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The Painted Hall
It was meant to be a drop in visit on the way to the Pirates exhibition at the Maritime Museum in Greenwich. In fact, Fiona was so excited about the pirates she was completely unable to remember the name Greenwich – repeatedly declaring “We’re going to Pirates”.
But our quick sidebar into the Painted Hall morphed into the full day event.
Built as a dining hall for retired navy men, it was beautiful with paintings covering the wall and ceiling, recently restored, and now visible once again in all their patriotic glory. This restoration had been essential as the paintings had browned over the years. When the stains were analysed, they turned out to be predominantly … gravy. True. Showing that the historic diners both loved food fights, and despised high art. It is debatable what they felt about gravy.
This was just one of many stories that captured our attention, as they were regaled by Vincent, our delightful French tour guide.
The building was financed by private donation, listed with names and amounts on the walls. Queen Anne donated £6,472. This precise sum was taken from the controversial pirate, Captain Kidd.
Initially an authorised privateer, he went rogue and was eventually captured, hanged, his corpse displayed in a gibbet cage for months, while his possessions were transferred to the Queen. She passed them in their entirety for the building of the Painted Hall as “her” donation.
Anne herself endured 18 pregnancies, only one of which lived till 11 years – and then even he died. Finding a successor once she died proved problematic, as the government was fiercely anti-Catholic and would only allow a protestant to become king or queen. They worked their way through the list of those in line for the throne – through 57 Catholics – until finally they arrived at the 58th in line. This was George I – who became the first of the British Hanoverians.
George I was not ideal. He didn’t want the job. He refused to learn English. He didn’t like London and preferred Hanover. He was dour, controlling, and screwed around. But George had other qualities that made him ideal to qualify as a British King. He was a Protestant. And he had a legitimate son.
The succession was assured. Indeed, his direct descendants have sat on the throne ever since, including King Charles III – to whom I personally had to swear an oath of allegiance.
A son meant he also had a wife – Sophia the missing queen of England. She was beautiful and sociable, but their marriage was bitterly miserable. Eventually she had an affair with a rather fine looking Swede, Philip Christoph von Königsmarck. Philip tried to help her escape her husband, but he mysteriously vanished never to be seen again, presumed murdered.
With the Swede out of the way, George I grabbed Sophia and locked her up in a castle. For 32 years until her death. She was only 28. Yes, that’s the guy ordained by God to be the British king. To be fair to God, he did try really hard to get 57 others on the throne first…
My favourite story, however, was not about royalty but a real Greenwich naval pensioner called John Worley.
Immortalised on the ceiling with a long white beard and a white cape, he looks like a cross between Jehovah and Santa. In real life though, he was more a cross between a Tomte and a true old sea dog.
He worked in the Royal Navy for 70 years, and when he finally retired on a naval pension to Greenwich, he did not take kindly to the rules and bureaucracy. Refusing to go to chapel each morning, frequently drunk, and always swearing he put up with various punishments rather than comply – bread only meals, cleaning the latrines, wearing the special yellow ribbon of shame…But that didn’t stop him. At 96 years of age when he died, he was still getting into trouble – taking prostitutes back to his room.
