Hampton Court Palace

This week has been wonderful. Last weekend I met a fabulous assortment of “big names” in the field of medieval and Renaissance textile and costume research (more on that later!) and during the week Tom took off work for family adventuring, making the most of the boys’ half term break. Monday we went to Hampton Court Palace, Tuesday we left Weyland at preschool so that we could experience the International War Museum, Wednesday we saw Brave in the movie theater (an unusual treat for us), Thursday we spent a quiet day at home, and today the older boys and I returned to Hampton Court Palace.

We had a fantastic time. Hampton Court Palace is mostly about Henry VIII (especially now, when the recreated crown just went on display last weekend) which is early Tudor enough that I have a natural affinity for the place, but a nagging fear that I’m dragging my kids along on my adventure. But Tallis asked to go back there again. He asked to go back. Those not living with him probably cannot understand the magnitude of that request; we did something historic and unique to England and he liked it enough to want to do it again. I think the only other repeats he’s requested since arriving involved food.

Monday we began by taking our first train trip. The half hour ride was made more engaging by an impromptu game in which we “collected points” for things we could spot out the windows: one for a train, two for a bridge, five for a bus, ten for a church. We debarked to a day both crisp and beautiful: the bright blue sky, the swan landing on the water as we crossed the bridge, the deep red  ivy on the wall, the ornate and varied brick chimneys on the palace, and dozens of other things delighted me.

The kids went first to the historic maze, and all enjoyed running up and down its paths. A little game of tag in the gardens went fine with a morning snack, but when grouchiness impeded our ramble we realized that we’d have to stop for lunch. We left the palace to eat at Pizza Express, a much higher end joint than the name would imply, which wins great approval from our children because its kid’s menu comes with not only a pizza and dough balls, but ice cream and a bambiccino — steamed whipped milk sprinkled with cocoa powder. The adult options are worthy of repeat visits, too.

After lunch, we joined in the costumed living history activities, and the kids joined forces with the English courtiers to “play spy”. I left them with Tom and checked out the chapel with Weyland, and smiled fondly at the portraits in the gallery. Weyland delighted me by identifying Elizabeth of York in the copy of the Whitehall portrait as “Mommy”.

All three boys decorated crowns, dressed in the loaner “gowns” the palace provided, and tried out the children’s audio tour, though we made little progress through it before the next living history scene we wanted to join. (One packing failure: my camera stayed home. My smartphone can’t take good photos in a dim castle.) While I made crowns Tom  checked out galleries about Mantegna’s Triumphs of Caesar and the young Henry VIII, but when we finished enjoying the theatrics in the Great Hall and had to leave — the palace was about to close! — it felt as if we had hardly begun to explore.

I still feel that way, as our return today deepened our experience more than it broadened it. The train ran smoothly, the weather was nearly perfect, the maze hadn’t rearranged itself at all (which Tallis proved by leading us through unerringly on his first try) and the living history experience was even more magnificent now that we knew what to expect.

Museums and historic sites all over London advertise special  half term activities, but those at Hampton Court are unlike any I’ve ever enjoyed. Seven costumed interpreters play out one day in August 1546, when the ailing Henry VIII welcomes French ambassadors to his court, hoping to sign a peace treaty. The degree to which the youthful audience is included in the script amazed me and delighted my children so much that almost all that we did today was to participate in this reenactment.

We joined an English gentleman and his lady wife, relatives of the deceased but still lauded third wife Jane Seymour, in the courtyard to greet the two noble Frenchmen, heralded in fine style by the costumed musician. The Spanish Ambassador was hanging around, cracking snide jokes but downplaying his presence. The entourage moved into the Great Hall, and then the Great Watching Chamber, where we met Henry VIII and his sixth wife Catherine Parr.

During a lull while the actors retreated for negotiations, the boys discovered the game Fox and Geese. We played it quite a while before meandering down the hallway toward the next reenactment, pausing only to enjoy the portraiture and pose Garrett in the Page’s Room.

When the French unexpectedly demanded the return of Boulogne (a place on the continent that Henry’s troupes captured at great cost) the peace seemed derailed and we were treated to one of Henry’s famous tempers.

After lunch the boys, having noticed that the spying parties split and followed three different actors to interrogate different suspects, wisely selected an alternate adventure to the one they enjoyed last time. On Monday they asked the French Ambassadors about the reason for the changed demands, but today they asked Princess Mary what she knew of the whole affair. When the spies convened in Henry’s council chamber to advise the king, Tallis boldy reported the findings of his contingent: Princess Mary knew that the Spanish ambassador opposed the peace accord, and yet told no one.

Soon after, the children again called on Mary and found her fretting. Her lineage, half English and half Spanish (her mother was Henry’s first wife Catherine of Aragon), made her suspect, since it was logical that her kinsman the Spanish emperor might wish to disrupt peace between France and England. The English courtier summoned from their number advisers for the king. Henry truly asked them about how to repair relations with his daughter, listened to their suggestions, and spoke with feeling about the complexities of being a king. My children, now comfortable with the actors and with scenario, were of course sitting in front and quite vocal.

After an awkward attempt at reconciliation between Henry and Mary, we proceeded to the Great Hall where the children rehearsed a masque. Garrett and Tallis participated in this on Monday, too — they had been in the chorus and had danced the simple celebratory Pavane. Today they knew to volunteer more enthusiastically, and Garrett got picked for one of the main rolls: Saint Denis. The story was simple, told in rhymed verse by one of the Frenchmen: Saint George (England) and Saint Denis (France) were friends but when a terrible worm (dragon) showed up it cause such a stink by farting that each country blamed the other and seemed near to war. Saint George and Saint Denis rode out looking for the worm, but it hid until Saint Denis challenged it to a farting contest. The contest went fine until Saint Denis soiled himself (as you know, when you work hard at farting, you “risk the follow through”). Saint George rode to his friend’s aid, put his sword “where the sun don’t shine” and the worm, full of gas but unpleasantly plugged, exploded. This play was a PERFECT level of potty humor for most of the children in attendance. Tallis again joined the chorus and dancing. Henry entered wearing his fantastic jeweled crown, a peace was worked out — the French agreed to pay a great sum for Boulogne — and the play was performed.

This whole story took the entire day — we arrived just after the palace opened and left as they were closing. Today I brought my camera, but due to the complexities of our still not having all our furniture, the computer that has the photos does not have internet. I will have to share pictures later.