Moments and Memorization

Alas, I am alone in Merry London without a husband, but it is all for a good cause. Andrew has gone to the Windsor area to perform in a Christmas show that embodies the horror that is "The Office Christmas Party", and no, we are not talking about Dwight and Michael from The Office. (Humerous and unconfortable though it may be.) I wish him well and know that if I had kept him here for no good reason that I would be going against everything that he stands for as an artist:struggle.
However, letting my travelling partner go had left me with a rather troubling dilemma: We had tickets to go on a late night host walk of Hampton Court Palace, and I was not going to get rid of my ticket. Enter Matt: our voice over House mate who is a pretty cool bloke and occasionally refers to me as 'mate'. (Yes, he's Australian - not trying to wisk me away from Andrew!)
So Matt was able to join me on my night out ghost hunting - and all I can say is: WOW.

The trip started off with leaving from Waterloo station (Waterloo, couldn't escape if I wanted to!) and arriving around 7 p.m. at Hampton Court. By the way: the sun sets close to 4:10 p.m. at the moment - so 7 p.m. is DARK! The tour began in front of the main doors into the Palace; we couldn't go through them as there was a large archaelogical dig going on but that was not our focus. Our gaze was drawn towards a tiny window in the far right of the building, overlooking where the moat once was. It is the room through that window that a family was staying in Victorian times. The family kept on complaining of hearing a whirring sound late at night. On inspection a door was uncovered that had been walled up, and inside was a room with a solitary spinning wheel - the source of the noise. Historians researched to find the last known resident of that room to be Sybil Penn, the nurse/guardian to Edward, only ligitimate son of Henry the 8th. Sybil Penn became part of Elizabeth l entourage until she died of small pox around 1562. She was buried in a chapel nearby in Hampton. However, the church was hit by lightning and her grave was one of the ones disturbed. since that time (late 1800's I believe) sightings of Sybil have been regular amongst staff and those who work along the Thames river.

Our next stop was the Great Hall of Henry VIII - an amazing piece of work by day or night. Along the sides are 6 or 8 (of a set of 10) tapestries that are valued as the world's most expensive tapestries. About 80% of the work is done in gold or silver thread. There is also a spot on the ceiling that shows the original paint and design - but only visible at night with a flashlight. Here we were told how every sighting is investigated and how many of them have a very dull reality to them. One night a guard was walking through the palace, doing their rounds. They came into the Great Hall and shone their torch along the walls to make sure everything was fine. As the torch light hit the far end of the room the guard saw the ghostly white outline of a woman in a nightown - and promtly fled the scene. As our guide told the story he moved his torch along the wall - and low and behold as it shone on the far side of the room we saw the vision for ourselves. However - upon inspection the anomaly is revealed to be refracted light from the hidden system protecting the tapestries. Proof that one should always find a reasonable explaination before assuming it's ghosts.

Onto the next room - Henry's audience chamber where he would be greated everyday when leaving his personal chambers by people asking for favours and money. Here we sat in the dark (with only torchlight) yet again - on benches as we were told about the Haunted Gallery - the rooms beyond this one. It is considered to be so for these reasons: Henry the VIII took as his fifth wife the young Catherine Howard (cousin to his second wife Anne Boleyn). Historians place Catherine as young as fourteen to as old as seventeen upon her marriage to the fifty year old King. She had at least one affair that we can confirm - possibly two - and when Henry found out she was placed under house arrest in Hampton before being moved into Syon House and subsuquently the Tower of London to be executed on February 13th 1542. There is however one day where we believe that Catherine escaped from her guard at Hamtpon Court only to run down the gallery and bang on the door of Henry's private chapel, pleading for mercy. She was promptly dragged back to her rooms and it is rather obvious that she did not receive the requested mercy. Grace and favour residents have reported hearing hurried footsteps alongside the gallery as well as strange occurrances with the door that we know to have lead to Henry's private chapel. One statistic is clear: of all the places that people have fainted in and around Hampton Court Palace there is one spot that has four times as many reportings as any other: and that is front of the very door that Catherine would have banged upon. With this our guide then told us that each of us would go - one by one or in pairs - into the Haunted Gallery lit only by candlelight. My heart started racing. I'm not joking - I had Matt feel my pulse and it was pounding, my hands and feet began to sweat and I was filled with the anticipation of wanting to run and wanting to see what was there in the dark. One by one people were pointed to the door, and about halfway down the group it was our turn. Matt and I went through the door into a long corridor lit only with the occasional candle light. I put my hand to almost any doorknob I could see, wondering if I might be hit with a spark telling me I had the right door. As I moved halfway down this one corridor a chill passed through me. I turned my head to the right and there on the wall was the darkened portrait of Henry, gazing down towards me. I couldn't see the face, but the stance was unmistakable - how odd that while passing this particular painting I should feel the chill.

Onwards and around a corner - and suddenly - like a light going on in your head - I knew I was in the actual part of the gallery that was supposed to be haunted. There was nothing marking it, nor the door that we were looking for, it was not different from the other corridor in style or decor or lighting - it just felt different. I couldn't pinpoint which door was the right one, but Matt did find the broom closet - literally. At the end of the hall we joined the rest of our group as we waited for the other half to finish their walk.

Other stories that we encounted are as follows:

1. A private apartment that the historical chefs use when they are staying at Hampton to prepare the 'historically accurate meals'. Their front door has three bolts to lock it. During one stay they returned to the apartment to find the door unlocked and wide open. When this happened a few days in a row they decided to have someone lock it from the inside as well, place a chair up against it and leave by climbing out one of the windows. Upon their return that evening the door was again unlocked and open and the chair halfway down the front hall.

2. A staircase where the figure of a woman in a nightgown carrying a candle has been spotted many times. Tradition has it that it is the ghost of Jane Seymour who died at Hampton 12 days after giving birth to Henry's son.
3. A room where a private resident decided to place the framed portraits of the actors from a popular BBC show portaying Henry VIII and his six wives. On at least two occasions the portraits have been found on the floor in the middle of the room, their frames smashed and broken

And of course the crowning glory:

In 2003 during the middle of the day (11:45 a.m) a strange occurrance happened three days in a row. Security was first alerted the first day when an alarm went off. Someone had opened the fire doors in a more remote part of the Palace. Upon arriving at the scene they found the fire doors closed, and so they suspected (it being mid-day) that a member of the public had decided to use them as an exit point. Upon inspecting the CCTV cameras there was no one caught on film either opening the doors, heading towards the doors on the inside of the palace or away from them on the outside of the palace. (I say away as there is no handle on the outside of the door and on the inside it is a push bar to open the door.) The same thing happened the following day at the exact same time and spot. On the third day it happened again, but when they reviewed the tape that day they caught what has been now named 'Skeletor'. (Google or Youtube it if you like.) On the tape it shows the doors flinging open in unison. Eight seconds later a figure appears in the doorway and proceeds to close the doors. The figure as a pale face and is clothed in 'clothing of the period of VIII' as put by some. Our group stood outside these fire doors in the dark night air, and as we were told what the guards found really odd about the occurrences - the doors flung wide open! Except standing on the other side was one of the other guides - just doing his job well and giving us all a good start. As we entered the palace through the doors we were able to see that there was no where for someone to hide off camera and that the doors did need a great deal of force to open them up. Ghost? Or an elaborate hauxe to convince tourists to come on these late night tours?

Either way it was a brilliant night out.

On to other things - I am memorizing my script every day in anticipation for rehearsals this week. Nothing much to tell there as it's well - memorizing words off of a page -oooh, exciting...

In terms of part time jobs - I am still catering and this past week I have served the Duke/Earl of Wessex - three times. He's a decent bloke, fairly normal and has been kind enough to laugh at me at least twice and values my advice. The story behind it is this: I was serving a private party he was holding at Frogmore House and most of the attendees were Canadian. I was speaking of the wonder that is Ice Wine when HRH came into our group and agreed with my taste in liquor. I don't know if that means that my tastes are expensive or if his are cheap...

From that point on in the evening he and I had good repore, so that when it came to the moment that I accidentally dropped an (empty) cup of coffee rather close to him, he was able to bring some humour to the situation. To those in my family who think this might be a step up - please stop dreaming, it's just that of all the Royals, Wessex is the most down to earth.

And so back to memorising...