Most of us have probably read one or more accounts of living
in a castle or palace. Being fans of the Queen and the times, we watch television miniseries and movies draped with intrigue, lust and tapestries. When
we look at the documents in which the daily life of such places is detailed,
however, we might just be shocked.
Even the off-hand report of the historian William Lambarde,
regarding the restoration of the palace at Windsor, can be interpreted in
romantic terms
aboute the 17. Yeare of her most happie Reigne, she begann
with the Castle it selfe also, and not onlie restoared througheout the ruinous
Partes thearof to theire former Strengthe and Integritie, but also converted
foure sundrie Bridges, and a Tarrace of decayed Tymbre into so many new Woorkes
of bewtifull Stonne, adding besides a faire Stonne Gate at the rubbishe Gate,
and a most gorgeouse Chappel within the Palace it selfe; Things not less
profitable for Use, then plasante for the Eye.
The word “ruinous” is romantic so long as one does not have
to walk across rotted flooring. A “rubbish gate” can be read past quickly. We
would none of us be servants. Rubbish is an abstraction.
But, looked at so closely as to read the work orders for the
massive work project of 1570-2, we learn much much more about what it was like
to live at the palace — or any of the palaces, for that matter. First of all,
it was a place in dangerous and highly inconvenient disrepair.
We only have the space to cite a small number of the items
scheduled for attention. These we have
from
A brief declaracion of all suche wourckes as hath ben don
wthin the Castle of Windesore from the vjth daie of June, In the xij
th yeare of the rayne of or sov’aigne Ladie Queene Elizabeth [1570] unto the
laste of October in the xiijth yeare of her Maties raign [1571].
The list has been preserved in St. John Hope’s Windsor
castle; an architectural history, Part 1 (1913).
Although we visit the palace in the character of noble men
and women, sporting velvet doublets and beautiful flowing gowns, we likely will be pleased to read the likes of the following
work items.
Item the enlarginge of the scullerie that was to[o] little
and makinge new flores particons windowes and a Chimney and boilinge place to
the same and the bringing in of watr to yt.
Item alteracons and wourckes don in the seller as beating
downe the stone walls to make an arche, windowes, dors and a chimney, and the
making up of the same and making a dining place for the chief officers of the
sellar to sit in whiles they geve theire attendaunce.
The cellar has been redone in a more open format for the
better working conditions that it provides.
Edward VI had ordered the construction of a plumbing system
for the castle and grounds shortly before he died. There still were a few areas
needing to be connected, it seems. Of course, all water pipes were made of lead
at the time from which all adults and children took their water utterly innocent
of the implications.
The highest members of the Court had individual lodgings.
The rotting floors of the Lord Admiral’s lodgings needed addressing. One can
imagine what his experience of living at Windsor was until the repairs. The
details of the chambers of the vice-chamberlain are even a little more surprising.
The roofe over the seller gate wherin Mr Vicechamberlayne
lyeth the leade therof is so thynne and in so many places soddered that it
breaketh often, and raynethe thoroughe into the lodgings rottinge the tymber therof
must be newe cast.
His ceiling leaked like a sieve. The water had rotted the
timbers only making matters worse.
Elizabeth’s Maids-of-Honor lived dormitory-style with dividers
between their beds and bits of furniture. The repairs they too were promised
are not specified.
Many of the small details of a work-site manager’s descriptions
show us the most intimate details of the experience. Several mentions are made
of the need for a covering (called a “cradle”).
to stop all the scaffould and other decaied ho[le]s round
abowte the Castle, where the Choughes do breed wch are verie
hurtfull to the glasse windowes and noysome to the Castle in the absence of the
prince.
Choughs (i.e. crows) and pigeons nested in every available
niche and lived high off the crumbs and offal from the humans packed into the enclosure
nearly as tightly as themselves. Apparently, the birds being more at-large when
the Court left for another palace, the noise was especially deafening.
Among repair orders for the large towers on the grounds in
danger of collapsing at any moment were orders to repair nearly all of the
bridges. All of these were mostly made of wood and needed to be rebuilt with
stone. The Rubbish Bridge needed a wall to between it and the garden to keep it
from view.
The waie leadinge from the new gate to the Rubbish bridg [without
the castle] would be a mended and a wall brought up by the garden to enlinge [line]
the waye.
The wall was likely intended to block the smell as well as
the sight of rotting garbage. Again, this bridge was wood and needed to be
remade of “bricke and stone”. Once strengthened, the plan was to run another lead
water conduit along it, as well.
Among the choughs, the rotting timbers and leaking conduits,
there was special attention given to the tennis court. Tudors loved their
tennis.
The Tennis Courte would also be repaired bothe in pavinge
& bordinge. For the doinge whereof there would be [120,000?] bricke made
this next Somer and the earth would be cast forthwith.
Bricks, of course, must be baked.
To burne yt there would be doteres [feeble trees? doters?]
taken oute of Cramburne Braie woodd Bray neates and the great parke that dailie
fall downe and are windfalls. Or ells sertaine acres of woodd to be taken in
Cramburne and incopste for the preservacion of woodd wch dailie
consumethe.
England already running out of wood, special care was taken
to use as much waste wood as possible.
Again, these are only a portion of the work orders. Perhaps
the redecorating of the Queen’s various chambers will follow. By the
descriptions, it’s a wonder she survived to die a natural death.
Source: St. John Hope. W. H. Windsor castle; an
architectural history, Part 1 (1913). 267-270.
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