In Search of Tudor Ghosts

(On the driveway leading up to the main gates of Hampton Court)

Our one-day detour in England allowed us to explore one of the country’s grandest palaces—Hampton Court on the banks of the River Thames in Surrey. Llew handled the car we rented at Heathrow beautifully on the winding country roads of the village of Hampton, bringing us, merely twenty minutes later, to the red brick facade of this Tudor marvel of architecture.

Stopping at the Cardinal Wolsey Pub (above, appropriately named for the Palace’s original owner) and at the residence (below left) of Sir Christopher Wren, Father of Modern London, we arrived at the Palace gates on a particularly beautiful summer’s morning.

Time flew fast as we explored the Tudor courtyards (above left and at left) and hallways of this splendid home, the private apartments of notorious King Henry VIII and his six wives, and the Royal Chapel that has been in continuous use for the past 500 years with its magnificent pendant vaulted ceiling, reputedly the best one in Britain.

Particularly interesting for me were the vast Tudor kitchens (left) with a real fire burning in the hearth and the servants’ quarters with their intriguing nooks and niches. Wolsey’s apartments with their “folded linen” wood paneling, a form of wood carving peculiar to the Tudor periods, were also fascinating as I had never seen such intricacy before.

We moved then into the later seventeenth-century addition to the Palace carried out under the direction of Sir Christopher Wren through the commission of William and Mary (below left).

The difference in architectural styles was striking. We loved the Fountain Courtyard, the splendor of the royal bedrooms with their oil paintings, frescoes, and superbly carved marble mantelpieces, the work of Grinling Gibbons—which caused one ecstatic little visitor to run right into a fireplace and exclaim to his father, standing
nearby: “Look at the carvings, Daddy! Rich carvings!” What was remarkable about the acuteness of his perception and the aesthetic sensibility that was proclaimed by the statement was the fact that he was no older than three years!

Lords and ladies of the court dressed in Tudor and Elizabethan garb strolled among visitors in the courtyard and posed for pictures with us (above) as we made our way into the stunning formal gardens with their symmetrical yew-tree alleys, delightful perennial beds (the best I’ve ever seen–below) and the famous Maze in which visitors can lose themselves for hours.

We did not have the chance to test our own prowess at finding our way out because we had to rush off to board our flight from Stanstead to Salzburg. But our visit to Hampton Court Palace will remain forever indelible. As we walked back alongside the River Thames towards our car, I could just imagine Anne Boleyn in one of the barges that once skimmed upon that river as they transferred  the royal court from London to Surrey.

(With Chriselle outside the main gate of Hampton Court)

Bon Voyage!