CHAPTER X

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KENSINGTON PALACE

When William III., "a great man in a little crazy body" as Leigh Hunt calls him, found that he could not stand the smoky atmosphere of Whitehall, he looked about for a place sufficiently near London for him to be near his Ministers, and yet should be rural enough to have clear fresh air. He found this spot in the village of Kensington, where he bought a suburban mansion, formerly the residence of the Earls of Nottingham. Here he at once began building, and laying out gardens in the formal Dutch fashion, employing Sir Christopher Wren to make the alterations to the house. While the King was in Ireland fighting against his father-in-law, James II., Queen Mary superintended the work, writing to her absent husband of the slow progress the builders were making, and how "the place made me think how happy I was there when I had your dear company." A road was specially constructed through Hyde Park, gravelled and lighted with lamps, for the convenience of the officers of State, who were obliged to visit the monarch in his country retreat.

Queen Mary did not long enjoy the pleasures of Kensington Palace, for in the winter of 1694, an epidemic of smallpox, which was raging in the neighbourhood, crept through the palace gates, and attacked the young Queen. Immediately she knew the terrible nature of her fate, the Queen, with her usual kind consideration, directed that all her ladies and servants who had not had smallpox should hurry from the palace, while she herself, having put everything in order, calmly prepared for death. King William could scarcely be persuaded to leave his beloved wife, even to lie down at night upon the camp bed arranged for him in the ante-chamber. Tears ran down the stern face which was seldom allowed to betray any emotion, and in the end, just before Queen Mary died, he was carried away from her bedside fainting. As he said to Bishop Burnet, "I was the happiest man on earth; and I am the most miserable. She had no fault; none: you knew her well: but you could not know, nobody but myself could know her goodness."

Eight years later, King William himself expired in the same palace, a man still in the prime of life, but worn out with illness and hard work to which his vigorous intellect had driven him. He was already far from well when he was thrown from his horse while riding in Hampton Court Park, and broke his collar bone. The bone was set at once, after which the King insisted upon returning to Kensington, against the advice of his doctors. Upon arriving at the palace it was found that the bone required resetting owing to the jolting caused by the bad roads. The King lingered for a fortnight, busy all the time arranging a coalition to curb the power of France, but on March 8 it was seen that he was sinking. Macaulay tells us that "when his remains were laid out it was found that he wore next to his skin a small piece of black silk riband. The lords-in-waiting ordered it to be taken off. It contained a gold ring and a lock of the hair of Mary."

Finding herself saddled with a debt of £4,000 still unpaid for the building alterations of her predecessor, Queen Anne contented herself with improving the gardens, leaving the palace untouched. But she added one architectural feature, the beautiful orangery designed by Sir Christopher Wren, standing near the north-east of the palace, a building famous for the beauty of its proportions and the delicacy of its detail. At one time it was much neglected and even ran the danger of being pulled down, but was happily preserved and carefully restored in 1898. The "dull woman with a dull husband," as Leigh Hunt bluntly summarizes Queen Anne and Prince George of Denmark, both died in the palace to which they were much attached, Prince George dying in 1708, six years before his wife.

Always a lethargic and weak-minded woman, Queen Anne's pleasures lay in eating and drinking, for she cared nothing for music or books, and would sit in silence for a long time among her friends. It was natural that such a woman should be ruled by the strong, imperious will of Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough, who for many years completely influenced the Queen. She, however, presumed too much upon this influence till a breach was effected, never to be healed. The last famous interview between the one-time friends took place in Kensington Palace. The Duchess had written asking for an interview at which she should merely state her case, the Queen not requiring to answer at all. This the stolid Queen obeyed to the letter, for not a word could the furious Duchess extract beyond "You desired no answer and you shall have none."

Under the first Hanoverian King, who never was able to speak the language of his new subjects, the Court at Kensington was extremely dull. But as George I. liked the quietness of the palace, he erected a new suite of rooms, and employed William Kent as the architect. To Kent we are indebted for the monotonous drab frontage which faces the Round Pond.

The last monarch to reside and to die in the palace was George II., the "petty German autocrat" who scorned England and delighted in snubbing his English courtiers, declaring, according to Lord Hervey, that no Englishman knew how to enter a room, nor any Englishwoman how to dress, nor English cooks how to prepare a dinner, nor English coachman how to drive, nor, indeed, were there any English horses fit to ride or drive. Queen Caroline, his much-enduring wife, devoted herself to the planning out of the gardens, which she laid out practically as we now see them. Uniting a collection of ponds she created the Serpentine, and was also responsible for the Round Pond and the Broad Walk.

George III. did not care for Kensington, much preferring his beloved Windsor, so that the palace became somewhat neglected, being only used by various members of the Royal Family. The Duke of Kent, the fourth son of George III., came to live there shortly after his marriage, the Princess Victoria being born on May 24, 1819, in the room which now bears a brass plate commemorating the fact. At the time of her birth there seemed small likelihood of the little Princess ever reaching the Throne, but her royal uncles having no children, it soon became obvious that she was the heir to the Throne of England. She herself, being brought up with scrupulous care by her widowed mother, did not know of her great future till the death of George III. The residents of Kensington soon became familiar with the sight of little Princess Victoria driving about in a donkey carriage or in a tiny chaise drawn by small ponies.

A few weeks after her eighteenth birthday, the Princess was awakened out of her sleep very early on a bright June morning. The Archbishop of Canterbury and the Lord Chamberlain had arrived at the palace, and their business could not wait. "We have come to see the Queen on business of state, and even the Queen's sleep must give way to that." Hastily putting on a dressing gown and slippers, the young girl went down, to be told by the Archbishop that her uncle and King was dead, and that she was now the Queen of a vast inheritance. Later on that same morning her first council was held in the palace, the scene depicted by Wilkie in his well-known picture. The young Queen was very dignified and self-possessed, turning to Lord Melbourne, the Prime Minister, when doubtful as to what she should do, but showing all through the trying ordeal a gentle sweetness that won upon all the lords present. She read her speech "in a clear, distinct, and audible voice, and without any appearance of fear or embarrassment," after which all the privy councillors came to kiss her hand and swear allegiance. When her uncle, the old Duke of Sussex, who was very infirm, came forward to kneel before her, she left her chair and came towards him, kissing him on the forehead. On July 13, the girl-Queen left the home of her childhood for Buckingham Palace.

Members of the Royal Family continued to occupy various apartments in the palace, the Duchess of Kent residing there till her death in 1861. Queen Mary was born there, her parents, the Duke and Duchess of Teck, living there for a short time.

After some years it was found that the palace was in a very bad state of repair, every part of the building wanting attention. So extensive was the dilapidation, that the question of pulling down the palace was seriously considered. Fortunately, however, the historic place was saved by Queen Victoria, who was anxious to preserve her old home. It was finally decided as a memorial of the Diamond Jubilee, to repair the building thoroughly, and to throw open the State Rooms to the public. The restoration was carried out most carefully, everything being saved that was possible; pictures were brought from Hampton Court, and the whole palace rendered much as it was in the days of its glory. At the present time it is serving as the temporary home of the London Museum.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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