bosom of the silver Thames," and partly in the building we are about to visit :

"Close by those meads, for ever crown'd with flowers,
Where Thames with pride surveys his rising towers,
There stands a structure of majestic frame,
That from the neighb`ring Hampton takes its name."
Rape of the Lock, canto iii,

But it is too late for us to visit Hampton Court to-day. We will therefore step over to the Swan at Thames Ditton, and appease what old Homer calls "the sacred rage of hunger," which we may there do very satisfactorily. The house is nicely situated, affording capital views over our river; the host is commendable, the fare good, and the cook skilful; and the little village will afford an agreeable stroll while dinner is preparing. No Thames rambler will desire a better or more suitable inn; to all Thames anglers it is well known, and is, as it deserves to be, a leading favourite. The village contains a park or two, and some good houses; and there are some pleasant walks in the vicinity. The church is a large irregular building, both old and picturesque, but without anything particularly interesting to the antiquary or student of ecclesiastical architecture.

At Thames Ditton, the river Mole, of which some account was given in a former volume, falls into the Thames.

VOL. II.

E

СНАРТІ

CHAPTER XX.

HAMPTON COURT.

MOST visitors allow themselves to be carried through the avenues of Bushy Park straight to the gateway of Hampton Court, and then, with as little delay as possible, commence the tour of the apartments. But in so doing they do amiss. That way is not the best way. The judicious visitor will take a more leisurely course.

He will approach it, as we shall, from the Surrey side, and if he come in a carriage he will not fail to alight at the foot of the crazy-looking bridge which connects Hampton Court with East Moulsey. Right pleasant and refreshing it is, on a bright summer's day, to linger awhile "with heart at ease," on the crown of the old wooden fabric, and admirably does it prepare the mind for the banquet which is in store for it. On both sides of the bridge are views of considerable beauty. Looking up the river, you have a luxuriant prospect of the valley of the Thames, upon whose placid surface rest a number of well cultivated islets; and through the foliage so abundantly spread around peers out many a lowly, and more than one lordly roof, and from many a chimney curls up the light smoke, gracefully contrasting with the dark hue and heavy forms of the trees, till it loses itself against the hazy sky; while in front Moulsey lock

and weir, with the wide sheet of water rushing over it, impart strength and motion and a picture-like completeness to the view. On the right, looking down the stream, "the silent Mole" creeps stealthily into the broad bosom of the Thames ;-but the quiet rusticity that rendered the view below so pleasing is quite destroyed by the sheds and terminus, and long straight cutting of the railway just formed. On the left are seen the hall, and turrets and gables, with the battlements and multiform projections, and variously grouped and carven chimney-shafts of "Royal Hampton's pile," partly hidden by the venerable elms, and backed by other majestic trees beyond. The irregular mass of the older palace looks picturesque wherever seen; from this spot, as the varying outline is still more broken by the noble trees, and the dull red brick of which it is constructed is rendered more effective by contrast with the dusky green of their foliage, its impressiveness is greatly heightened; and even King William's straight and formal addition has its formality somewhat

relieved.

And while gazing upon these roofs, how busily will the teeming fancy repeople the royal pile, as the memory runs over its history, and recals the tenants who have followed each other in this caravansary, from its early glories in the days of its builder, "the o'er-great Cardinal," till, in the strange lapse of events, it is now the Palace of the People!

Of none of our palaces could so rich a domestic history be written as of this. There are now scattered in memoirs and letters, materials in abundance for relating all that concerns it, with almost Boswellian minuteness-and with almost Boswellian interest also. But of course that is not to be

thought of here.

The matter of volumes cannot be compressed into half a dozen pages.

The first palace is of the time of Henry VIII. In the Domesday Survey the manor of Hamntone (as it is there spelled) is stated to belong to Walter de St. Waleric, and "the whole value to be thirty-nine pounds. The right of fishing and laying nets in the Thames is estimated at three shillings. Early in the thirteenth century, the manor and manorhouse were bequeathed by the pious widow of Sir Robert Grey, to the Knights Hospitallers of St. John of Jerusalem. In their possession it remained till Wolsey induced the prior of that order to grant him a lease of it, for the purpose of erecting a mansion on the site. About 1515 the KingCardinal commenced the building of his palace, and in a few years it was so far completed as to allow him to make it his residence.

The stately style in which it was built, says Stow, "excited much envy ;" and the manner in which contemporary writers speak of it, sufficiently confirms his assertion. But the splendour with which Wolsey surrounded himself here, and the haughtiness with which he treated those who came to him, were still more provoking to the old nobility, who looked with little complacency on the " upstart priest." Skelton (whose poetry ought to be familiar to those who would know the real manners of that period), in his bitter satire on Wolsey, Why come ye not to Court?' written, as Mr. Dyce conjectures, about 1522, affords a pretty strong proof of the current feeling. Addressing the nobles, Skelton says—

6

"Why come ye not to court?—

To which court?