1 AUGUST 1896, Page 13

FISH AND FOWL AT HAMPTON COURT.

THE death of the great gold-fish in the central fountain at Hampton Court was recently recorded. It had reached a. weight of nearly 4 lb., and was probably the largest, and per- haps the oldest, fish of its kind in the country. The gardens and precincts of the old Palace are in no sense Dutch, though their improvement by William III. lends some colour to the idea. It was Versailles that the designers wished to imitate, both in the building and Its surroundings, and though the whole is DOW a paradise for wild birds, the first efforts of the renovators of the Palace must for a time have banished wild life from its vicinity. In the great flat of the Home Park, stretching for more than a mile to the south, the imitators of Versailles saw their opportunity for creating the long lines of convergent tree vistas and canals, leading as it were from all quarters of the earth to the foot of the Monarch's throne, which was their notion of the magnificent surroundings proper to a palace. They deliberately neglected the one natural feature of sur- passing beauty, the river Thames, which flowed by the Palace gates, and shut it off by walls and railings. Then daring more than one reign they devoted themselves to the develop- ment of the formal paradise within.

From their point of view the site had the advantage of that of Versailles. It was a natural plain, and the geometrical lines were not distorted, as at Versailles, by inequalities of ground. But the precincts of the ancient Palace, and the park adjoining, .contained something more directly useful to their purpose than any other natural advantage. By a strange chance, there wose almost opposite to what is now the main entrance of Sir Christopher Wren's Palace, abundant springs of pure water. That they should rise so close to the river is suffi- ciently remarkable, but their subsequent course was not less unexpected, for instead of flowing directly into the Thames, their waters traversed the whole length of the Home Park parallel to the river, and only joined it opposite the town of Kingston. This forgotten spring feeds all the artificial waters of the Palace, keeps them fall, bright, and sweet even in the present drought, and lends to the environment of park and gardens a lasting quality of freshness and refinement. In the semi-circular canal which skirts the formal garden to the .south, it bubbles up through the gravelly bottom where the ,curve is nearest to the river, and after filling the upper levels, slides into the "long canal" which stretches on to Kingston. The half-moon canal which divides the " pleasance " of the Palace from the park is perhaps the most beautiful boundary .of any formal garden in the country. Its inner margin is set with a triple line of lime-trees. These, left to Nature, and untrimmed, have attained the utmost beauty and perfection of growth, though the form and structure of each has approximated to that of its neighbour, giving a look of almost conscious unity to the ranks of trees. To the branches and bosses of the limes the birds have carried thousands of mistletoe - seeds, which have taken root -and grown in such abundance that the trees are covered with bunches of the plant, some limes carrying a score of mistletoes, sprouting from trunk and branches. They grow in almost equal abundance on the thorn-trees in Bushey Park. Something in the soil or air of this gravelly, loamy .flat, formed by some other agency than the floods which made the level riverside meadows, from which it differs both in soil and in the fact that it contains springs of water, must favour the growth of this parasitic plant. It is as plentiful as in the woods of Picardy. An unintended effect of the design and planting of the main garden is that the birds inhabit it in zones, corresponding exactly to the degree in which their species have established " commensalism " with man, whether King or peasknt. The walls of the Palace itself are decorated with ornamental monograms designed by Grinling Gibbons, and wrought in stone, with much " under- eutting." The interiors of these monograms are stuffed with sparrows' nests. Next to the walls, and extending to the arcs of lime-trees and the water, are yews, set in order among statues and beds of brilliant flowers. These are the homes of hundreds of thrushes and blackbirds. In spring two or even three nests may be found in a single tree. The limes them- selves are haunted by crowds of fly-catchers, redstarts, tits, And water-wagtails. The nuthatch and even the lesser spotted woodpecker also build there yearly. Beside and upon the .eanala are the nests of water-fowl both tame and wild. This

year's hot sun has produced an unusual crop of water-lily leaves and flowers. The former are so thick and solidly massed that the water-hens walk upon them like the broad. toed Japanese coots upon the lotus beds, and in the centre of one mass of floating lily leaves a water-hen has built her nest, which lies as open to the view as the lily flowers themselves. The ornamental semi - domestic water-fowl nest on the Park side of the canal. For their benefit exists the only distinctly Dutch contrivance surviving at Hampton Court. Small "duck-houses," either built of boards, or made each spring out of laurel-boughs, are set along the margin for the ducks and geese to lay in. This is a very old Dutch custom to protect the eggs of the water- fowl on the canals and lakes round the Dutch country-houses from the magpies which abound in the woods. There are no magpies to steal them at Hampton Court, but it has always been the custom to make " duck-houses " each spring, and the tradition probably dates from the days of William III. At midsummer the greater number of the water-fowl leave the garden-canal, and under the leadership of an old Chinese gander march off into the "long canal," where they lead a half-wild life until the winter. The swans, on the other hand, keep near to the gardens, except when they observe some un- lucky fisherman busy with his roach-rod. The fishing in the canal is free to the public since the opening of the Home Park, and the swans have discovered that "ground-bait" lying on the bottom and nicely soaked, is food which snits them exactly. A favourite perch for anglers is on the end of a railing which projects into the water. Thence they cast their ground-bait to the furthest length of the "swim," and, after a proper interval, begin to fish. At this moment the swans may be seen swimming up to share the sport. They know quite well that the fisherman cannot reach them, and that as long as he is perched on the rail he cannot pick up clods or stones to drive them off. Indifferent to his shouts and abuse, the swans sail majestically into the centre of the "swim," ascertain the exact lie of the ground-bait, and then, dipping their necks leisurely, consume it within ten feet of the helpless provider of the feast. Roach are the main source of sport in the Palace waters, but recently a 12 lb. carp was caught with the rod and line. This monster fish had been tempted with all the delicacies of the season — cherries, strawberries, and green-peas, as well as the standard baits for carp—but in vain. Then, by a happy thought, the fisherman remembered that he had not yet offered the epicure fish a new potato ! Selecting a small one, he boiled the vegetable, and it was appreciated. The carp sucked it down, and was hooked and landed. The outer zone of the Home Park is frequented by many of the rarer wild birds not commonly found in the neighbourhood of cities. At a distance of nearly a mile from the Palace, in the avenue of tall elms which runs parallel with the right bank of the "long canal," was the heronry which the birds deserted some thirteen years ago to build in Richmond Park. The herons constantly revisit the canals to fish, but have never nested since they first left. The greater part of the Home Park is bare of cover, without bracken. bushes or even scattered timber, except the remains of some five or six huge oaks, dating from before the days of Cardinal Wolsey. Yet at the present time numbers of partridges haunt the outskirts of the Park, spending their day between the open grasses and the enclosed paddocks near Kingston. Nearly thirty brace were recently flushed in the course of an evening stroll by the southern boundary.

Besides its artificial canals the park contains a natural feature specially attractive to birds, and not less remarkable for the rarity and beauty of the flowers which surround it. The springs which rise in the beds of the canals do not ex- haust the natural features round Wolsey's Palace. In the park itself is a long oval pool fed by everlasting springs, partly rising in its bed, and partly trickling in from some slight elevation in the ground. The overflow of its waters have formed a long line of soak and marsh in the direction of the Thames, never stagnant, but never reaching the propor- tions of a stream except in heavy rains. The length of the parent pool is some seventy yards, and this is covered from end to end with a thick growth of the rare water-villarsia. The golden flowers stand upright on stalks some three or four inches in length in groups like golden stars, their shape and colour reflected and inverted in the smooth surface of the

pooL While every other portion of the park is burnt brown after the late heats, the long line of the marsh is as green as emerald, set with masses of forget-me-not and marsh plants, and haunted by flocks of rooks, jackdaws, starlings, and finches, and by two or three pairs of sand-pipers, whose white breasts and whistling notes recall the stream-sides of Scotland. The spring from which the marsh descends rises to the south- west of the Queen's oak ; its name appears not in legend, but the keepers have christened it the "Cardinal's Well."