William III
The practical author of the palatial landscape in The
Netherlands and England 1672-1702
William III
The practical author of the palatial landscape in
The Netherlands and England 1672-1702
Merel Haverman 10359427
Supervisor: mw. dr. Hanneke Ronnes Second reader: Prof. dr. Rob van der Laarse
Master thesis Heritage and Memory Studies University of Amsterdam
Faculty of Humanities February 2018
Content
Introduction ... 2
William III: soldier, hunter and cultural patron ... 4
Research, outline and method ... 6
Chapter I ... 9
‘First we shape our buildings and afterwards our buildings shape us’- Winston Churchill ... 10
Norbert Elias and Versailles as model of power ... 11
Architecture, ceremony and the ‘Politics of intimacy’ ... 12
Architecture and privacy ... 13
Conclusion ... 16
Chapter II ... 18
The development of the Orange-Nassau Court ... 19
Frederik Hendrik and the new standard of court architecture in The Netherlands ... 25
Conclusion ... 34
Chapter III ... 36
William’s building activities in the Republic 1674-1688 ... 37
The organisation of William’s court ... 47
Form follows function ... 53
Conclusion ... 56
Chapter IV ... 58
William’s movements and building activities between 1689 and 1702 ... 59
Combining courts ... 67
Your place or mine? ... 73
Balancing power, ceremony and privacy at the Anglo-Dutch court ... 75
Conclusion ... 83
Conclusion ... 85
References ... 89
Appendix A ... 94
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Fig. 0.1. William III by Sir Godfried Kneller, 1690. (Courtesy Royal Collections)
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Introduction
‘…and [we] went even before the afternoon to satisfy our curiosity to a certain extent, by
witnessing the palace of this famous excellent royal seat, built by order of the great William,
King of Great-Britain and Stadholder of these United Netherlands, to be a memorial… 1’
- Theodorus Beckeringh (1712-1790) on his visit to Het Loo in 1740
The Stadholder-King William III (1650-1702) was brought up during the Golden Age, a time celebrated for its wealth, innovation and cultural development. Together with his wife Mary Stuart II (1662-1694), whom he married in 1677, William oversaw significant political and cultural change throughout his reign as Stadholder of Holland, Zeeland, Utrecht, Gelderland and Overijssel in The Netherlands from 1672 onwards, and as King of England, Ireland and Scotland from 1689 until his death in 1702.2 The most tangible reminders of his reign are the many buildings he either built, rebuilt or decorated with lavish gardens and interiors. At the end of his life, he had around seventeen palaces, country retreats and hunting lodges scattered across the two countries at his disposal.3 Some of which are destroyed, to a certain amount preserved or either, as in the case of Het Loo, restored to its ‘former’ glory. It is on these buildings that I will be focusing in this thesis.
Over the centuries, royal structures have been appreciated and admired in different ways: as examples of a certain architectural style, but also as symbols of the monarchs that had lived there. Two of William’s creations in The Netherlands -Soestdijk and Het Loo- are currently open to the public, of which only Het Loo, open to the public since 1984, claims to display the domestic lifestyle of William and his wife Mary.4 It is questionable to what extent Het
1 Beckeringh 1895: 364.
2 Haley 1988: 39-49, Maccubbin & Hamilton-Philips 1989: 3-4. The political consequences of the Glorious Revolution, including the move towards a parliamentary democracy, is generally considered as the most significant legacy of the reign of William.
3 William had inherited the castle at Breda and Buren and the seats at Dieren, Rijswijk, Honselaarsdijk, the Binnenhof and the Old Court from his father. The houses of Soestdijk, Het Loo, Kruidberg and Huis ten Bosch were bought by William between 1674 and 1684. After his coronation, the houses of Richmond, New Market, Windsor Castle, Whitehall, St. James’s palace and Hampton Court came into his possession. He purchased the house at Kensington in 1689.
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In 2017, it was announced that both palaces will be undergoing major renovations in the coming years and will be closed to the public in the course of 2018. The plans for Het Loo consist of much-needed maintenance work, an expansion to provide more space for temporary exhibitions and public facilities, and the improvement of the interior layout of the forty royal rooms in the corps-the-logis to have a more ‘logical arrangement’. The palace will open to the public again in 2021. The plans of Soestdijk are more controversial. In June of 2017, it was announced by the government that the palace was to be sold to the MeyerBergman Erfgoed Groep and, according to their plans, Soestdijk will be partly converted into a hotel and into a ‘forum for innovation and entrepreneurship’ with exhibition spaces dedicated to highlight ‘the innovative strength and outstanding
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Loo properly replicates the couple’s domestic lifestyle, as William and Mary share the space with other former occupants.5 The presentation at Het Loo leads visitors through several furnished period rooms, each representing the function and style of one of the many occupants of Het Loo. It does, however, lack the overall coherence of style and lifestyle; as well as a deeper understanding of the principles and motivations lying behind the interior planning of palaces. In Great Britain, William and Mary face similar competition by sharing the musealized spaces at Hampton Court and Kensington Palace with previous and future occupants.6 Even collectively, as tourist heritage sites, the palaces evoke only a fragmentary image of the domestic lifestyle of its past occupants. One wonders if William and Mary would recognize it as their former residences at all.
Rob van der Laarse, professor of Heritage Studies at the University of Amsterdam, has pointed out that palaces are complex places with a cultural biography that reflects the dynamics of material change as well as the dynamics of our memory.7 The palatial landscape carries traces of past life, but it is human activity that ultimately gives meaning to those traces. The biographical approach can be used as a tool to bring insight into these dynamics and its actors.8 For a proper understanding of William’s domestic lifestyle, the past rather than the present must be investigated, stripping away the layers of history and appropriation of present-day authorship by starting on a blank page. With this thesis, I strive to further
achievements of the Kingdom of the Netherlands’. Although according to its buyers the estate will be developed with full respect for its context, it will not be opened as another museum celebrating the (architectural) legacy of the House of Orange-Nassau. (See plans on the renovation of Het Loo
https://archief.paleishetloo.nl/en/renewed-and-renovated/ and for Soestdijk
http://www.madebyholland.nl/en/our-promise/)
5 In the current display each room in the palace has its own ‘occupant’, which determines the style and function of the room and accordingly the narrative. The routing is not always chronological and some of the rooms are reconstructed at different places. For example, Queen Wilhelmina’s (1880-1962) office and salon were allocated to other locations in the palace. For further discussion on the reconstruction and musealization of Het Loo see Ronnes, H. ‘Authenticiteit en authenticiteitsbeleving: de presentatie en receptie van museum Paleis Het Loo.’ KNOB Bulletin, vol. 109, nr. 5 (2010): 190-199.
6 Despite being responsible for major undertakings in the rebuilding of Hampton Court and Kensington, William and Mary, when it comes to the presentation and popularity of the palaces, ‘live’ in the shadows of the people who lived there either before or after their reign. For instance, Hampton Court is more often associated with king Henry VIII (1509 – 1547) than William and Mary, whilst Kensington nowadays is most famous as the beloved home of princess Diana (1961-1997).
7 Laarse 2010: 158.
8 Kolen & Renes 2015: 21- 48. Jan Kolen and Hans Renes present in their chapter the history of landscape biography in academic writing and an overview of key issues and approaches within landscape research. A key publication within the landscape research was the essay ‘The Biography of Landscape’ (1979) by Marwyn Samuels, in which he used the term ‘biography’ to refer to the particular role of individuals in the shaping of landscape. By ‘reading’ the landscape as biography its main goal is, according to the authors, to ‘explore how landscapes have been transmitted and reshaped form prehistory to present, viewing landscape at each point in time as the interim outcome of a long-standing and complex interplay between agency, structure and process’ (p. 28).
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deepen an understanding of the mechanisms behind William’s houses. Therefore, the main research objective is the negotiation of social space at the court of William III in relation to his life’s history.
William III: soldier, hunter and cultural patron
William proves to be an interesting subject due to his dual position as both King of England, Ireland and Scotland and as stadholder of the Dutch Republic. This meant that William was, besides serving both countries, in charge of two households, two courts and two court entourages.9 Although extensive accounts have been written on the courts of William’s predecessors and successors, both in England as well as the Netherlands, little is written about life and etiquette at the court of William.10 Publications and biographies on William foremost centre on his military and political accomplishments, where especially the ‘Glorious Revolution’ of 1688 can count on quite some literary and academic exposure.11 In 1988-89, three hundred years after the Glorious Revolution, more reflection and perspective was offered on William and Mary’s architectural legacy; research and publications followed on the ‘Anglo-Dutch’ gardens (Hunt & De Jong 1988), the cultural and historical background of the buildings of the king-stadholder and his courtiers (Spies & Raaij 1988), the decorative arts (Baarssen et al. 1988) and power and patronage (Maccubbin & Hamilton-Phillips 1989). These publications all contributed to studies of William and Mary’s court in connection to their architecture and art patronage, but most of them mainly presented the different palaces
9 The precise definition of the word court and what it entails is still part of modern debate. The various meanings of the word can all be traced back to the primary meaning of ‘an open space enclosed wholly or partially by buildings, walls or fences’. Scholars have argued that the meaning of the court surpasses its architectural connotation and could include in the largest sense the government or current ministry. Historian John Adamson sums this up in his introduction on the ancient-régime court, stating that in the period between 1500 and 1750 the court was much more than its buildings and occupants and entailed ‘a far larger matrix of relations, political and economic, religious and artistic, that converged in the ruler’s household’. See for a discussion on the subject: Asch 1993, Duindam 1994, Adamson 1999.
10 See for example the following publications: England: Barclay, A. The Impact of King James II on the
departments of the royal household (1994), Bucholz, R. The Augustan Court. (1993), Aylmer, G. The King’s servants: the civil service of Charles I (1974), Aylmer, G. The Crown’s servants: Government and Civil Service under Charles II (2002). Netherlands: Delen, M. Het hof van Willem van Oranje. (2002), Keblusek, M. &
Zijlmans, J. Princely Display: the Court of Frederik Hendrik of Orange and Amalia van Solms in the Hague. (1997). Bruggeman, M. Nassau en de macht van Oranje: De strijd van de Friese Nassaus voor erkenning van
hun rechten, 1702-1747. (2006).
11 A quick look at the recent published publications and biographies on William III demonstrate this focus on his political and military ambitions over his architectural ambitions (or legacy). In the beginning of this century two biographies were published under the titles by Troost, W. William III, the Stadholder-King. A political
biography. (First published in Dutch in 2001), Claydon, T. William III. Profiles in power. (2002). Last year, two
books were published on William’s invasion of England (Bosman, M. De roofkoning. Prins Willem III en de
invasie van Engeland. (2016)) and his life-long rivalry with King Louis XVI (Panhuysen, L. Oranje tegen de Zonnekoning. De strijd van Willem III en Lodewijk XIV om Europa. (2016)).
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as centres in their own right, looking only at the English or Dutch palaces, without providing a decent comparative study.
William’s grandfather, Frederik Hendrik (1584-1647), from who William inherited a fair amount of buildings in The Netherlands, was well-known for his love of building and architecture.12 He reportedly stated ‘let us talk of war no longer, let us talk of building and planting’.13 Although William, like his grandfather, invested large amounts into his architectural enterprises, architectural historian Simon Thurley argues in one of the few Anglo-Dutch comparative studies of William and Mary’s palaces that for William ‘architecture was a servant not a master’, furthermore stressing that he was ‘first a soldier, second a huntsman and only third a husband and cultural patron’.14 The latter would arguably also apply to Louis XIV (1638-1715), King of France and William’s lifelong rival, although it would most probably be presented in a different order.
Thurley is not the only one unimpressed with William’s art patronage. The English art historian Horace Walpole (1717 – 1797) went so far as to write that William III:
‘contributed nothing to the advancement of arts. He was born in a country where taste never
flourished, and nature had not given it to him as an embellishment to his great qualities. He
courted Fame, but none of her ministers.’15
Others too argue that William’s Dutch background, being ‘bred in a domesticated and small-scale environment’, was one of the reasons why he never flourished as patron in the arts and architecture.16 Moreover, they argue that William preferred creating private, comfortable and ‘homely’ and ‘pleasant domestic’ houses rather than contemplating ‘baroque dream palaces’.17 Historians Stefan van Raaij and Paul Spies attribute the weak role of William and Mary as patrons of the art to their disinterest in absolute power in England and the Republic.18 They state that the belief that William took no interest in the arts is based on a ‘wilful misunderstanding’. According to Raaij and Spies, ‘arts was not his only passion, for his major purpose in life was to achieve a balance of power in Europe’ and William showed a similar
12
Ronnes 2006: 22, Thurley 2009: 1.
13 Ronnes 2006: 22. Translation by Hanneke Ronnes. 14 Thurley 2009: 1.
15 Walpole 1888: 201. 16
Haley 1988: 38, Harris 1989: 233, Tinniswood 1998: 88. Historian Adrian Tinniswood argues that the royal building projects in the Republic tended to be ‘small-scale and restrained’ as the political situation of the Republic would oppose princely displays of power.
17 Harris 1989: 233, Janssen-Knorsch 1990: 289, Thurley 2009: 6. 18
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passion for hunting and Mary was keen on collecting porcelain.19 Historian J.R. Jones concluded in his essay on ‘The Building Works and Court Style of William and Mary’ that William’s greatness lies not in his building activities, but his personal –military- actions.20 Interestingly, this focus on their hobbies and achievements is reflected in the Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam. In the introductory text of the room dedicated to William and Mary, William is praised for his military and political successes and Mary is mentioned as being ‘partial to delftware’. The only remark on their architectural ventures is that they mirrored Louis XIV’s court style with the help of the French designer Daniël Marot (1661-1752).
Fig.0.2. The display of porcelain, paintings and furniture in room 2.22 'William and Mary' at the Rijksmuseum Amsterdam. (Courtesy Rijksmuseum)
Research, outline and method
From the above discussion and a further exploration of literature it becomes apparent that when it comes to a study of the architectural and historic legacy of William and Mary, their role as cultural patrons is often defined and marginalized by their hobbies, political legacy and the influence of Louis XIV’s Versailles.21 Although William’s palaces and gardens have received a considerable amount of attention, this attention has predominantly been of a descriptive nature and especially directed towards his gardens.
19 Raaij & Spies 1988: 167. 20 Jones 1988: 10.
21 Especially Het Loo and Hampton Court are considered as William’s answer to Versailles. See for example: Tinniswood 1998 : 88, Jenkins 1994 : 9, Baarsen 1988 : 12, Jackson-Stops 1988: 36, 40.
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Following the archaeological, anthropological and social studies, material culture as evidence of social processes is now increasingly attracting the interest of (art) historians.22 More and more scholars nowadays look beyond the discussion of architecture in relationship to art history and rather think of them as social objects. Thomas Markus states in Buildings and Power that ‘everything [i.e. form, function and spatial structure] about a building has social meaning’.23 Archaeologists Stefan Larsson and Tom Saunders argue that architecture is a powerful tool for the ‘deliberate projection and display of social conventions and ideas’.24 According to them, architecture and space are therefore meaningfully constituted, ‘being actively empowered with a multiplicity of messages’.25 In his dissertation on the palaces of the 17th and 18th century, Historian Samuel John Klingensmith argues that life at court could be distinguished in three spheres: the public, the private and the social, each of them represented in the architectural planning of royal residence, and, therefore, by focusing on this physical backdrop insight could be provided into the lifestyle of nobles.26
With this research, I review William III as the author and shaper of the palatial landscape during his reign in The Netherlands and England by researching how he negotiated social space in relation to his life’s history. The point of departure of this research is the hypothesis that buildings embody the social and cultural meanings of those who constructed and/or inhabited them and that it is, therefore, possible, by studying his architectural activities and the designs and layouts of the buildings, to obtain insight in William’s life. What was his motivation to (re)built houses? Did he have a preference for certain houses? What exactly were the characteristics of his court and how did it change over time? And last, but not least, is there a difference visible between the structure of the houses during his years as stadholder (1672-1689) and his years as Stadholder-king (1689-1702)?
These questions will be answered in four chapters. The first chapter will provide a theoretical framework on the relationship between architecture and (court) life through a discussion of the concept of social space and notions of power, ceremony and privacy. The second chapter examines the building activities of William’s predecessors in The Netherlands between 1530 and 1650. The third and fourth chapter deals with the organisation of the court and the
22 For example, the work of Klingensmith 1994, Thurley 2004 & 2009 and the research network PALATIUM [see: http://www.courtresidences.eu/index.php/home/].
23 Markus 1993: XX.
24 Larsson & Saunders 1997: 81. 25 Ibid.
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building activities during William’s life as stadholder and as Stadholder-king. Finally, the conclusion of this thesis will offer the findings pertaining to the research question and will further reflect on the potential meaning of these results regarding the status of William as a builder.
For this research, extensive use was made of the available primary documentation besides the existing literature on the subject. Luckily, of most of William and Mary’s houses, especially the ones in The Netherlands, furniture inventories survived, which proved to be helpful in clarifying room designations of courtiers and family members and in understanding the principles behind the planning (and building) of palaces. Architectural plans helped to form a picture of the layout of his palaces, even though no detailed plans from during his reign survive.
Other sources, such as diaries, travel accounts, memories and letters, which helped to deepen the understanding of past lives, were of major importance to this thesis. Specifically, the diaries of William’s secretary Constantijn Huygens Jr. (1628-1697), written during the first nine years of William’s reign as King of England, has proved useful into gaining insight of William’s movements, his dealings in art and political tensions. Also of value are the remnants of ‘Anglo-Dutch’ life at the court of William presented in the memoirs of Queen Mary, Bishop Burnet, John Evelyn’s diary and William’s correspondence with Hans Willem Bentinck. To enable a further recounting with this past, this thesis introduces the voices of contemporary visitors to the houses of William to retrieve an idea of how their palaces were perceived during their lives. Not only do they often point out the details that impress them in their diaries and travel journals, but their writings also tell us whether the court architecture and interior décor produced the intended effect.
Historian Hugh Murray Baillie concluded in his essay on the etiquette and planning of Baroque palaces that ‘by treating palaces not as empty architectural shells but as machines for living in […] some light may be thrown on to specific problems of architecture’.27 Knowing that only the use of plans and inventories did not provide enough insight, the last words of his essay ‘it may be possible, in the words of Marc Bloch, out of anecdotes to write history’ denote the challenges in the pursuit of insight of social architecture.28
27 Baillie 1967: 199.
28 Ibid.
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Chapter I
Meaningful architecture
‘The average person, dependent on his senses and unable to reason, is incapable of comprehending the majesty of the king. But through the things that meet the eye and in turn activate the other senses, he receives a clear, if imprecise, idea of this majesty, or power and authority. We see, then, that an impressive court with its ceremonies is not something
superfluous, much less reprehensible.29– Christian Wolff, 1721
In this excerpt from Vernünftige Gedanken von dem gesellschaftlichen Leben der Menschen, the German philosopher Christian Wolff (1679-1754) touches upon the importance of the visual representation of the court. Louis XIV, the famous Sun King, had expressed a similar attitude in his memoirs from 1666.30 Even William’s court architect Christopher Wren (1632-1723) had observed that ‘architecture has its political use’.31 Thus, the outward appearance of the court, be it through clothes, ceremonies or architecture, was not just about its splendour and magnificence, but also its ability to convey a message of power and hierarchy. The tricky thing about such a claim is that rulers rarely left explicit statements on what their exact intentions were for building and designing their houses and gardens. Thus, in the end, it often comes down to a matter of judgement from others, past or present, on what that message might have been. For example, the houses of William III were often criticized by foreign travellers for their modest appearance. In their eyes, his houses were more suited for a stadholder or prince than for a king.32 ‘Go big or go home’ seems to have been set as the standard for rulers in the age of absolutism.
In an age that carried such opinions on what court architecture should entail, it should be expected that form and function have a special connection. When it comes to an
29 As cited in Klingensmith 1994: XVI.
30 ‘The people are gravely mistaken who imagine that all this is mere ceremony. The people over whom we rule, unable to see to the bottom of things, usually judge by what they see from outside, and most often it is by precedence and rank that they measure their respect and obedience. As it is important to the public to be governed only by a single one, it also matters to it that the person performing this function should be so elevated above the others, that no-one can be confused or compared with him; and one cannot, without doing harm to the whole body of state, deprive its head of the least mark of superiority distinguishing it from the limbs.’ As cited in Elias l983: 116-117.
31 As cited in Tinniswood 1998: 7.
32 See for example the travel accounts and diaries of the brothers Bovio (Brom 1915:123), John Evelyn (Bohn 1862: 354), Farrington (Farrington 1994:81), John Locke (Strien 1989: 224-225), Joseph Shaw (Shaw 1709:10), Henry Sidney (Blencowe 1843: 43), John Talman (Strien 1989: 259).
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understanding of the relationship between architecture and (court) life, elite structures (such as castles, palaces and country houses) become complex pieces of landscape and material culture. This chapter explores the relationship between architecture and (court) life through a discussion of the concept of social space and notions of power, ceremony and privacy. As considerable research pertaining to this has been done concerning Versailles, the palace of William’s rival Louis XIV, this structure will be used to demonstrate some of the notions mentioned above.
‘First we shape our buildings and afterwards our buildings shape us’- Winston Churchill33
Space is a loaded and complex term and in social theory a crucial concept. For example, a room or hall refers to a fixed physical location within a structure, but space can include larger or smaller areas within or without a fixed physical entity. Furthermore, space does not have to be observable or physical and can exist temporally.34 The French social theorist Henri Lefèbvre had an extended theory on the concept of space and looked at space both as the locus and the outcome of social action. He stated that (social) space is a (social) product, not a ‘mere collection of things’.35 His theory altered the conception of space as a mere container and emptiness between objects to something that could be studied on a social scale: space is to be understood in an active sense as an intricate web of relations that are continuously produced and reproduced.36
Space is perceived as a medium for action and is both the producer and product of social relations.37 Social actors, individuals and groups, use space to establish, confirm and strengthen their own positions in society. Space, therefore, reflects power structures.38 These social relations are often materialized in the form of specific spatial structures, but also through values and meanings assigned to and actions performed in specific places.39
Spatial structures, such as buildings, houses etc., are the setting, the medium and the outcome of social agency.40 They materialize the social relations that take place in them and are
33 As cited in Parker Pearson & Richards 1994: 2. 34 Clifford 2013: 19.
35 Schmid 2008: 27-29. Lefebvre’s book The Production of Space was first published in 1974. 36
Schmid 2008: 41, Predovnik 2014: 13-14. 37 Larsson & Saunders 1997: 80-81.
38 Tilley 1994: 11, Hansson 2009: 435, Predovnik 2014: 14. 39 Predovnik 2014:14.
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modified continually as the actions that constitute them change.41 According to Amos Rapoport, the built environment embodies the social values and cultural conventions of a society that develops it and it is thus culturally constituted.42
The relation between the spatial form and social agency is mediated by meaning: ‘people actively give their physical environment meaning, and then act upon those meanings’.43 A further discussion then often centres on the question which one of the two has primacy over the other: does form follow function or function follow form?
Norbert Elias and Versailles as model of power
A court in the sixteenth and seventeenth century was not only a luxury but also a necessity. It fulfilled several functions; as means of protection, confirmation of power and rank, but also as an instrument to enhance the prestige of one’s court.44 With the monarch, noblemen and personnel of the household all living together under one roof, life at court had to be organised. Ceremony, etiquette and protocol were introduced to bring order out of this chaos.45
Sociologist Norbert Elias has paved the way for many researchers looking into the subject of life and ceremony at the early modern court with his pioneering work Hofische Gesellschaft or The Court Society that was published in 1969.46 He wondered how it was possible for monarchs to ‘domesticate’ the nobility and he looked at the court as an instrument of social control with a focus on the court of Louis XIV at Versailles and French society.47 For Elias, ceremony provided the context in which this could be explained, where from morning to evening the processions, rituals and elaborate ceremonies, such as the lever and coucher, signified power and rank between the ruler and its courtiers.48 Defending once status and standing asked for constant effort to abide by society’s standard and had to be reinforced on a daily basis through ‘outward appearance’:
41 Parker Pearson & Richards 1994: 3. 42 Rapoport 1990.
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Parker Pearson & Richards 1994: 5. 44 Adamson 1999: 7-8, Delen 2002: 16. 45 Adamson 1999: 8-9, Delen 2002: 16-17.
46 Asch 1991: 2-3, Bucholz 1993: 1, Duindam 2009: 539. Although his work was later criticized, it still remains the foundation for many scholars researching life and ceremony at the court.
47 Asch 1991: 3 [footnote 7]. As Asch noted in his introduction on the court and household ‘it must be emphasized at this point that Elias himself never claimed that the history of the French court was a model for all early modern European courts’.
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‘An elaborate cultivation of outward appearances as an instrument of social differentiation, the display of rank through outward form, is characteristic not only of the houses but of the
whole shaping of court life’.49
Social relations between the King and courtiers and the representational character of the architecture were closely related to one another. Comparing the houses of the nobility of Versailles, Elias points out that their status is not only manifested in their particular role during ceremonies but also in the different ways their houses were built. Courtiers were expected to build according to their status and position on the social scale and not in any way surpass the pinnacle of this hierarchy: the palace of Versailles.50
Historian Adrian Tinniswood stated that Versailles, build between 1669 and 1684, with its baroque architectural structure and gardens used to symbolize and glorify the Sun King’s absolute power, became the standard by which all other royal building projects were judged.51 According to him, Versailles evolved as the popular court style of the 17th century as it clearly portrayed the power of the absolute monarch. This was true for not only the decorative idiom of Versailles but also its mode of life with strict etiquette and ceremony.52 The connection between power and architecture becomes apparent when other courts start to adopt and borrow the style of the ‘Versailles model’ for the sake of its associations and as a means to legitimize their own power.53 Power is therefore embedded in architecture through associations with power, in this case, Versailles, which determined style.
Architecture, ceremony and the ‘Politics of intimacy’
Architecture can be understood as an instrument of power through its external appearance and constructed landscapes, but the power relations can also occur within the palaces. Historian David Starkey argues that the planning of palace buildings produced a ‘more binding framework for behaviour than any ordinance’.54 Proximity to the ruler was crucial for ambitious courtiers and to gain and control access to the monarch became, in the words of Starkey, ‘politics of intimacy’.55
49 Elias 1983: 62-63. 50 Elias 1983: 43, 55, 80, 114. 51 Tinniswood 1998: 106. 52 Baarsen 1988: 12. 53 Tinniswood 1998: 7. 54 Starkey 1987: 2. 55 Starkey 1987: 13.
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The idea of ceremony and etiquette in relation to architecture was first developed in Baillie’s essay ‘Etiquette and the Planning of the State Apartments in Baroque Palaces’ in 1967. The origins of this essay resulted from a remark made by one of his colleagues, stating that a German eighteenth-century palace was ‘built in imitation of Versailles’. The plan of the palace appeared to bear no relation to Versailles and Baillie noted that ‘very few, if any’ of the palaces he had visited conformed to the patterns of Versailles.56 Versailles might have been copied in style, but not necessarily in architectural planning. In his essay, Baillie compared the room planning of the courts of Spain, Germany, France and England to see how it gave expression to and both helped to define its underlying (political) structures.
Depending on the court, access to the king was dictated according to a temporal or spatial scale. In France, one’s status (or the monarch’s favour) determined how long they could spend time with the ruler. The elaborate court rituals such as the ‘Lever’ and ‘Coucher’, in which during the proceedings entitled courtiers each played a particular part, were the focal point of the court.57 The state bedchamber functioned more as an audience room and therefore became the focal point and centre of the architectural plan. To reach the bedchamber one only had to traverse the ‘Salle des Gardes’ and one ‘antichambre’.58 At the same time in England, the access to the king was measured to what extent one was permitted to pass through the enfilade of rooms with at the end the most exclusive and intimate spaces of the ruler (the bedchamber and closet). Architecture could thus represent power in spatial terms, by controlling the movements of visitors through permitting or denying them access in the sequence of rooms.
Architecture and privacy
Elias stated that for royals there was no such thing as the ‘private life’, since their status, which nobility obtained by birth, was, in fact, a public function.59 The concept of privacy was according to Elias a late and essentially bourgeois invention. This is certainly interesting considering William and Mary’s situation, where scholars often refer to their preference for a ‘private’ way of living and William’s longing for privacy.60
56 Baillie 1967: 2. 57 Baillie 1967: 190. 58 Baillie 1967: 199. 59 Elias 1983: 52. 60
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The concept of ‘privacy’ in architecture is a complicated matter. Archaeologist Matthew H. Johnson argues that privacy is a ‘social idea and thus variable’ and a desire for privacy should therefore not be seen as a normal, consistent or natural attribute of human life, as it can differ from person to person, culture, location and time.61 Ronnes provides in her book Architecture
and Elite Culture a helpful overview of the wide variation of views on privacy, of which a
few of the main points will be discussed below.62
Most of the debate focuses on the origins of privacy and if it is a modern concept or not. To uncover a sense and ‘desire’ for privacy is not that easy. According to various scholars, a linear perception of privacy is manifested in the material layout and enclosure of social spaces.63 The broad shifts occurring in the development of the spatial closure of the house are presented as evidence for a growing need of privacy, which entails the move away from multipurpose rooms as the large open hall towards closed off architectural features, such as separate bedrooms, corridors, servant quarters.64
Ronnes argues that in elite architecture one room in particular appears to have had a quintessentially private nature: the closet. The first indication of the closet as a private space is demonstrated by its position within the apartments. The royal apartments consisted of multiple rooms ranging from the more public spaces at the beginning towards the more private spaces at the end. Jib-doors and private staircases could be used by the sovereign and the courtiers close to him to avoid the public rooms and go directly into the more private spaces of the palace. The closet was in this sequence of rooms regularly the one room that lay furthest away from the entrance, hence being part of the inner, most private, realm of the king’s apartment.65 The fact that they frequently had no windows also contributes to the idea of the closet as a private space.66 Her analysis of ego-documents further supports her claim. From a range of anecdotes in journals and memoirs, Ronnes noticed that the closet was used by individuals to isolate and distance themselves from their company for activities that required a ‘private environment’. These activities vary from ‘our’ William III locking himself
61 Johnson 2010: 102. 62 Ronnes 2006: 121-143. 63 Ronnes 2006: 123, 131. 64 Ronnes 2006: 122-123, 131, Johnson 2010 : 100.
65 Ronnes does state that a remote or isolated position not always determines the private nature of the room as some might have been used for public events (Ronnes 2006: 142).
66 Ronnes 2006: 134, 143. Although houses in the second half of the seventeenth century later contained a number of closets, this did not take away the fact that some of them were still used for private purposes.
15
up to be alone and cry, to others using it as a place to read and write or for ‘personal business’ and ‘religious reflections’.67
The regulation of access thus relates to both power and privacy issues. Rapoport defines privacy as ‘[t]he ability to control interaction, to have options, devices and mechanisms to prevent unwanted interaction, and to achieve desired interaction’.68 Controlling the access to certain rooms was a way to regulate the boundaries between the sovereigns’ public and private life. Within palaces, the conduct of the public and private sphere became increasingly directed by written instructions. The ‘Bedchamber Orders’ from James II, and to some extent those of William III, is one example of this conduct as these included elaborate instructions about ‘keeping the door to his room locked and as to who was to be allowed a key’.69 These regulations varied from court to court as etiquette and the boundaries between the public and private lives of the ruler dictated the function and use of the room.70 This also explains the variance in plans between the French and English court. For the English king, the bedroom was at the end of the enfilade and part of the more private spheres, while for the French king it was the centre of court ceremony and thus in the centre of the sequence of rooms.71
Not only can a distinction between the public and private be made within the palace, but also between the different types of palaces. As Sarah, Duchess of Marlborough remarked ‘I used to run from court and shut myself up […] in one of my country houses, quite alone’.72 Country houses, hunting lodges and banqueting houses especially, became ‘refuges of privacy’.73 Not just the owners but also travellers would dwell on the function of country houses as a retreat and as a private space. The Huis ten Bosch, one of William’s houses near The Hague, was often noted for its seclusion and function as a retreat. Banker Francis Child (1642-1713) wrote in 1697 that it ‘was only designed for a pleasure house for the Princes of Orange to retire to when they had a mind to be more private and free from buzzing of courtiers or rather a place to please nature in; if so, it is a heavenly place for it’ and physician John Northleigh (1657-1705) stated a few years later that ‘The Seat and Situation seems calculated for a place of the sweetest Retirement, and the most pleasant sort of Solitude’.74
67 Ronnes 2006: 134. 68 Rapoport 1972. 69 Baillie 1967: 175, 180-181. 70 Baillie 1967: 176. 71 Baillie 1967: 199. 72 As cited in Ronnes 2006: 136. 73 Ronnes 2006: 136. 74 Strien 1998: 196, Northleigh 1702: 27.
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Controlling access, the use of closets and country houses all represent the different levels that aimed to separate the private from the public. Depending on the court, a system of more or less public and private spaces was in place. This did not, however, follow a binary opposition between the two, but rather shows that there were ‘various shades of privacy’ that could be distinguished and maintained on different levels.75
Conclusion
Space is perceived as a medium for action. The underlying premise is that space, or more precisely spatial structures, are simultaneously the outcome and medium of human action. Thus, it is both a producer and product of social relations. Our social actions define and redefine the meaning and value of space. In conceptualizing the relationship between architecture and society, architecture must not only be seen as a means of expression and representation, but also as a tool for communication. Spatial organization, or the layout of (elite) structures, enables architecture to shape space in ways that reflect and often structures social action.
There are several features that are central to the study of space in relation to court architecture: power, privacy and control and access. Elite structures, such as palaces and castles, became places of exchange where interactions were regulated by etiquette, protocol and ceremonial, which reinforced the status of the ruler and hierarchy at the court. Consequently, the space and form of the palace served as the structure and composition of the court.
An important connection between social life and architectural space was the movement of the courtier in relation to the ruler. In this, access and control are two essential notions as the regulation of movement and access (to the ruler) are both an expression of power and privacy. What concerns us is the spatial component to express these notions. Elite structures, as the sites of socially defined interactions and relations, determine where and how these notions are articulated.
75
17
Fig. 2.1. Detail of the NOVUS XVII INFERIORIS GERMANIAE PROVINCIARUM TYPUS [The Seventeen Provinces of the Netherlands]. Printed by the House of Blaeu in 1642, dated 1608. 1. The Hague [including New court, Old Court, Huis ten Bosch], 2. Rijswijk, 3. Honselaarsdijk. 4. Castle at Breda, 5. Castle at Buren, 6. Hunting lodge at Dieren.
1 2 3 4 5 6
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Chapter II
House(s) of Orange-Nassau
Court and palaces before 1650
Before ascending the English throne in 1689, the court of William III is characterized by most scholars as modest and unique.76 This can be ascribed to the diminutive size of the court, but also to the unique position of the House of Orange-Nassau in early modern Europe. In contrast to other countries where monarchy was the norm, the House of Orange-Nassau was a princely court within a republic.77 It was not defined by a unity of court and state administration and the sphere of the private court was separated from the political sphere.78 Thus, in a political sense, the position of the House of Nassau-Orange did not rival that of other European rulers. The head of the House was a prince, not a king, with the exception of William III, and obtained an atypical position as stadholder over regional states in The Netherlands. A stadholder was traditionally a representative of the Spanish Crown in the Burgundian Netherlands, but by the seventeenth century, the holder of the position was the head of the military and a servant of the sovereign states. Over the centuries, the position of the House of Orange-Nassau in The Netherlands could be described as ambiguous with the lack of a clearly defined rule.79 Some members of the House came as stadholder close to a monarchical position, whilst others disappeared in the background.
Despite their relatively limited position in the politics, the House of Orange-Nassau had already gained quite some royal prestige before William III ascended the English throne. Although the story of the rise of the House of Orange-Nassau has predominantly been told through their military actions, these actions were enhanced by an active and crucial engagement with material culture that fully asserted the status and right of the House to predominance in The Netherlands.80 To gain a better understanding of William’s court and palaces, this chapter explores the development of the court and palaces under his predecessors of the House of Orange-Nassau before 1650.
76 Jones 1988: 2, Israel 1999: 119, Duindam 2009: 547, Panhuysen 2016: 124. 77
Israel 1999: 199. 78 Mörke 2007: 231.
79 See for more on the position and politics of the House of Orange-Nassau in The Netherlands and Europe: Schilling 1991, Frijhoff 1997, Mörke 1997, Israel 1999 and Duindam 2009.
80
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The development of the Orange-Nassau Court
After the death of William III, an English biographer wrote 'I will not take upon me to extend the antiquity of the House of Nassau so far back as the time of Julius Caesar'.81 The biographer referred to the mentioned name of Nassau in Caesar's first book of Commentaries but thought it was rather ‘presumption than truth’.82 Like the English biographer, I shall not go into the remote origins of his ancestry, but it can be said that the House of Nassau had been established for quite a few centuries before the birth of William III. The intricate story of how the House of (Orange-)Nassau rose to power usually starts with William I (1533-1544), also known as William the Silent, the nobleman who led the Dutch revolt against Spain and has often been credited as the ‘founding father’ of the Dutch nation and the House of Orange-Nassau. The title and possessions of Orange were bequeathed to him by his paternal cousin René de Châlon (1519-1544), who had acquired the title and status of Prince of Orange in 1538 on the condition that he would take the name of Châlon-Orange.83
However, in terms of land and revenues, the House of Nassau had from the fifteenth century onwards already slowly moved ahead of other aristocratic families and had surpassed other rival lineages, like Egmond, by the early sixteenth century, according to historian Jonathan Israel.84 As an example of the early splendour and power of the Nassau Court, Israel refers to Henry III of Nassau (1483-1538), father of René de Châlon. Henry held as Chamberlain and as close confidant of Charles V (1500-1558) an important position at the Spanish Habsburg court and was married to the rich well-connected heiress Mencia de Mendoza (1508-1544), his third wife, in 1524.85 The court of Charles V was not very sedentary as he continuously travelled between the different residences of his empire. With a court constantly on the move, the spatial arrangement of the court was rather flexible. Power and status at court were measured by the distance of one’s lodgings to that of the Charles II. The importance of Henry at the Spanish-Habsburg court is reflected in the instructions of the Marshall of the Household that Henry should get lodgings near Charles whenever he was present at court.86
With his return to The Netherlands in 1530, art and architecture had to emphasize his important status. Henry commissioned a series of eight valuable tapestries to celebrate nine
81 Anonymous 1705: A 4. 82 Ibid. 83 Israel 1999: 120. 84 Israel 1999: 119. 85 Wezel 1999: 57-61. 86 Delen 1997: 22.
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generations of Nassau nobles, which he took with him on his travels to impress other nobles.87 The series, known as ‘Genealogy of the House of Nassau’, did not begin in Roman times or with the first recorded ancestor, but with Adolf of Nassau (ca. 1255-1298), who was elected King of Germany in 1292, and ended with Henry himself.88 Historian Paul Rijkens has argued that by showing off his (royal) ancestors in this particular way, the series can be seen as a positioning statement by Henry that suggested a princely standing and hereditary dynastic continuity.89
Fig. 2.2. One of the sketches for the tapestry series 'Genealogy of the House of Nassau' by Bernard van Orley, ca. 1530. Depicted Otto II of Nassau (ca. 1305 - ca. 1351) and his wife Adelheid of Vianen (?-1376). (Photo Sotheby's New York)
Furthermore, Henry made plans to turn the castle of Nassau at Breda into a Renaissance palace with two courtyards and open galleries after years of contemplating several renovations.90 This new building project started around 1536 under the supervision of Italian architect Thomas Vincidor de Bologna.91 The choice to build a classic Italian Renaissance palace was not an odd one as this ‘new style’ had already been embraced by Charles V and
87 Israel 1999: 199.
88 Wezel 1999: 74, Delen 2002: 489. Frederik Hendrik had copies made of this wall-covering series of tapestries in 1632 and expanded the series to include the current members of the House of Orange-Nassau.
89
Rijkens 2015: 65.
90 Wezel 1999: 95. According to Gerard van Wezel, Henry made these plans around 1528 based on his correspondence about the ongoing renovations and reports of dilapidation.
91 Schellart 1965: 17. The castle of Breda came into the House of Nassau’s possessions when Engelbert I of Nassau (c. 1370-1442) married Johanna of Polanen (1392-1445) in 1403.
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other European courts during the construction of their palaces. Therefore, some scholars argue that the style was in general rather chosen for its associations with power and status than for aesthetics and artistic reasons.92 The complex was unfinished at Henry’s death in 1538, with only half of Bologna’s design completed.93 Although no inventories or plans survive from that period, Gerard van Wezel has reconstructed the palace based on later inventories and a number of other sources. The lodgings of the court were situated on the first three floors of the north wing and part of the east wing. Each suite consisted of three main rooms: a hall, chamber and wardrobe. The most important lodgings were located in the north wing, these were not only larger but also encompassed another smaller wardrobe and a communal closet. Henry’s lodgings, consisting of a sequence of three rooms, were situated on the first floor of the north wing next to the great hall. From the great hall, one entered the first room of his apartment, which therefore had probably a more open character, followed by another room, probably the bedchamber, a closet and a small wardrobe.94 Unfortunately, due to a lack of written or visual sources from before his death, it is hard to establish, except for its layout, how these spaces regulated human interaction.
Fig. 2.3. Detail of the castle of Breda as depicted on the inside of a lid by Elias Marcus, c. 1600. (Photo Rijksmuseum)
From a fugitive to a fixed and stable court
According to scholar John Adamson, Louis XIV’s famous ‘Versailles model’ of the court, where Versailles became an independent and autonomous structure removed from the capital,
92 See discussion in Wezel 1999: 95-107. 93 Delen 2002: 67.
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and accommodating both the royal household and administration, was rather ‘the exception than rule’ as most courts usually had their principal residence in an established urban environment, generally the major city of the realm.95 Whilst The Hague is now known as the court city of The Netherlands, this had not always been the case. Prior to The Hague, members of the House of (Orange-)Nassau took up residence in Breda, Brussels and Dillenburg. Nevertheless, the start of a ‘stable’ or ‘established’ court, which according to Israel entailed a ‘fixed centre of influence and patronage, as a complex of buildings and collections, and as a focus of protocol and ceremonial’, is often linked with the official move of the House of Orange-Nassau to The Hague in the early 1590s.96
William the Silent also followed a semi-nomadic lifestyle. For a large part of his life, he had no fixed residence and his itinerary took him and his court mostly to his main residences in Breda, Brussels and, later on, in Antwerp and less frequently to more distant ones.97 Although they might differ in size and grandeur, in use and purpose they were roughly equivalent in status. Historian Marie-Ange Delen emphasizes tradition and a certain level of continuity in her dissertation on the court and court culture of William the Silent, but she also acknowledges the turmoil and restlessness of his court, which next to the peripatetic nature of his household was mainly caused by his political and financial situation.98 During his exile between 1567 and 1574, when the provincial states of Holland, Utrecht and Zeeland appointed William as their stadholder as an act of revolt, several cities, including Delft, Leiden and Middelburg, felt responsible for the housing of William.99 These cities had set up so-called, often temporary, ‘Prinsenhoven’ (Prince’s Courts) for the stadholder. The Prinsenhof at Delft was one of these houses were William took up residence and became memorable as the place where William was assassinated in 1584.100
95
Adamson 1999: 11. 96 Israel 1999: 121.
97 Schellart 1965: 31-37, Delen 2002: 66, 11-117. William married the richest heiress of the country, Anna of Egmont (1533-1558), Countess of Buren, Lingen, Leerdam etc. in 1551. Through this marriage, William obtained, alongside the title of Lord of Egmont and Count of Buren, many domains and estates, including the residences and castles at IJsselstein, Buren, Leerdam, Maarheeze (Cranendonck), Sint Maartensdijk, Grave and Vredestein. Later on, William I bought land, including the neglected castle of Sandenburgh, and acquired in 1581 the marquisate of Veere and Vlissingen.
98
Delen 2002: 62-118, 486-491. 99 Delen 2002: 64, 111-114.
100 Delen 2002: 113. The city of Delft had converted a former monastery into a residence and gave the furnished Prinsenhof to the stadholder as a present on the occasion of the christening of his youngest son. Here he lived the last eighteen months of his life,
23
Despite his many inherited and acquired possessions scattered across The Netherlands, the architectural activity of William himself was in comparison with his predecessors very limited and unpretentious. According to Delen, William did not necessarily lack interest, but rather ‘time and quiet’ to let his court develop into a ‘cultural point of orientation’.101 Together with the high costs of the Revolt, it comes as no surprise that William did not commission a series of tapestries like Henry III or initiated a complex or decorative building programme. From what we know, William made some adjustments to the castle at Breda by closing off the open galleries, rearranging some of the rooms and adding a wooden gallery to the structure between 1552 and 1555.102 The magnificence of his household was proclaimed rather by his hospitality and lavish banquets than through any architectural activity.103
After the assassination of William in 1584, his son Prince Maurits (1567-1625) succeeded his father as stadholder of Holland and Zeeland in 1585 and later on, he also became the stadholder of Utrecht, Gelderland and Overijssel in 1590 and Groningen in 1620, despite the fact that the title was not inheritable. Together with his step-mother Louise de Coligny (1555-1620) and his younger half-brother Frederik Hendrik, Maurits moved to The Hague in the early 1590s. He settled in the very modest living quarters at Het Binnenhof, which were traditionally placed at the disposal of the stadholder of Holland, while Louise and Frederik Hendrik took up residence at the Old Court, also known as Noordeinde.104 Het Binnenhof was distinct from the other spaces inhabited by the House of Orange-Nassau as the building itself was the property of the States General, and therefore not only entailed the living quarters of the stadholder, but was part of a larger complex of buildings that housed the meeting hall of the States General and that of the States of Holland.105 Although Maurits remains one of the lesser-documented patrons of the Orange-Nassau court as more attention has been paid to the military and masculine aspects of his court, he also showed a keen interest in maps, architecture and fortifications.106 Maurits improved the gardens and the living quarters of Het Binnenhof with the addition of a five-storey tower at the corner and had plans made to build a whole new palace there in the Italian style. These were, however, never executed.107
101
Delen 2002: 489.
102 Wezel 1999: 13, Delen 2002: 67-68. 103 Israel 1999: 120, Delen 2002: 488-489.
104 Schellart 1965: 83, Delen 1997: 22. Noordeinde was first leased and in 1595 purchased by the States of Holland for Louise and her court. In recognition of William’s service to the nation, Noordeinde was gifted to the family in 1609.
105 Israel 1999: 121.
106 Israel 1999: 125, Broomhall & Van Gent 2016: 85, 89. 107
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Fig. 2.4. The Princes of Orange and their families riding out from the Binnenhof by Hendrik Ambrosius Pacx, c. 1623-25 (Courtesy Mauritshuis, The Hague)
In addition to the commission of artworks and the rebuilding and renovations of the existing buildings, ceremonial aspects and display of courtly life that reflected the representation of the House of Orange-Nassau as a ruling dynasty were not neglected. Where at other courts in Europe the difference between dynastic ceremonies such as baptisms, marriages and funerals, and state ceremonies were barely relevant, these ceremonies revealed the two separate roles of the House in Dutch society: as prince or count and as stadholder. Dynastic ceremonies provided myriad opportunities to manifest the House itself as a powerful dynasty separate from the republican system.108 Scholars predominantly argue that the structure and traditions of the Orange-Nassau court were a reflection of the Burgundian court, whilst only a few point to the influence of the Habsburg court in their public ceremonies. Especially the use of departments such as cuisine, chambre, and écurie, (table, chamber and stable), as well as the emphasis on the dining ceremonies in court ordinances by the House of Orange-Nassau, are seen as typical features of a Burgundian court.109 Historian Jeroen Duindam disagrees, stating that structure of the Orange-Nassau court followed the main European court standard with these departments rather than labelling it as a Habsburg or Burgundian influence.110 By and
108 Mörke 1997, Duindam 2009: 552-553, Janssen 2009: 300-301.
109 Mörke 1997: 60, Frijhoff 1997: 15-16, Delen 1997 & 2002, Janssen 2009. 110
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large, the Orange-Nassau repeatedly seemed to keep up with broader international trends in court culture, although no system was fully copied. Differences remained because of strict personal taste and different political and economic situations.
The court of the House of Orange-Nassau at The Hague was initially still quite modest, the court, especially under the rule of stadholder Frederik Hendrik between 1624 and 1647, grew steadily in physical terms as well as in its international standing.111 Despite the fact that both Maurits and Frederik Hendrik were for the most part not actually controlling policy, both historian Olaf Mörke and Israel point out that the House of Orange-Nassau became a true and needed asset to the States General in the business of interaction with foreign diplomats and other powers.112 For the States General, the grandeur and ceremonial prominence of the Orange-Nassau court not only asserted their own status but also that of the Dutch Republic, which they regularly supported financially.113
Frederik Hendrik and the new standard of court architecture in The Netherlands
Under Frederik Hendrik and his wife Amalia von Solms (1602-1675), some major architectural changes began to be introduced in The Netherlands. After a long period of neglect due to decades of war, Frederik and Amalia were able to invest enormous amounts of time, attention and of money on building, rebuilding and extending the court in and outside The Hague. Israel argues that this architectural activity was a reaction to the increased international status and prestige of the House of Orange and a general expansion of Frederik Hendrik’s and Amalia’s court.114 Not only was more accommodation needed, but money was especially
111 The move to a higher international position was due in part to the high-profile strategic marriage alliances to ruling houses of England and Brandenburg planned by Frederik Hendrik and his wife for their children. (Israel 1999: 129, Broomhall & Van Gent 2016: 40-43).
112
Israel 1999: 122, Mörke 2007: 233. 113 Tucker 2000: 96.
114 Israel 1999: 128-129. A seating plan from Maurits’ days as stadholder suggests that he had a permanent household of at least 135 to 140 people, whilst under Frederik Hendrik and Amalia the household had counted at least 250 people (Mörke 2007: 230).
Fig. 2.5. Detail of portrait of Frederik Hendrik, Amalia of Solms, and their three youngest daughters by Gerard van Honthorst, c. 1647 . (Courtesy Rijksmuseum)
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put towards the construction of larger, grander houses with more impressive interior decoration to reflect the new status and prosperity of the Orange’s court as well as its ‘refined taste’.115
Between 1621 till his death in 1647, he would build the palaces of Honselaarsdijk and Huis ter Nieuburch, rebuild the Binnenhof and Noordeinde in The Hague and renovate the castles at Breda and Buren.116 According to Israel and Mörke, the grandeur and triumph of Frederik Hendrik and Amalia’s court reached its zenith in terms of architecture and style in the decoration programme of Huis ten Bosch.117 This summer retreat was commissioned by Amalia von Solms ‘for her recreation’ and construction started in 1645.118 After her husband’s death in 1647, Amalia decided to dedicate the palace to him, filling the ‘Oranjezaal’ from top to bottom with paintings depicting the glorification of the late Prince and the House of Orange-Nassau dynasty more broadly. In this way, Amalia demonstrated not only the cultural but also the political importance of the Orange-Nassau’s building scheme.
115 Israel 1999: 129.
116
Slothouwer 1945.
117 Mörke 1997: 230-237, Israel 1999: 129.
118 Slothouwer 1945: 183. The document that granted Amalia permission to build Huis ten Bosch clearly expresses its function as a summer retreat: ‘tot hare recreatie, exercitie ende oeffeninge te veranderen soo in plantagie als betimmeringe, soo sy t selve t 'haerder vermaeck dienstich soude vinden’.
Fig. 2.6. Cross-section Oranjezaal at Huis ten Bosch by Jan Matthysz., 1655. (Courtesy Koninklijke Verzamelingen The Hague)
27
As Frederik Hendrik was the first stadholder to build on such a scale, much scholarship has been devoted to his architectural activity, including the influence of his buildings on the development of Dutch classicism, his involvement and interest in art and architecture.119 When it comes to his interest and knowledge of architecture, historians also refer to his education in mathematics, which included subjects such as architecture and fortification, his collection of literature and documentation on architectural theory, and his secretary Constantijn Huygens Sr. (1596-1687), who had knowledge of the theory and principles of classical architecture.120 It is clear from Frederik Hendrik’s correspondence with Huygens Sr. that he was closely monitoring the progress of his palaces and gardens, while giving directions and making changes to the design, and that he was also interested in other building activities, as Huygens noted on the 4th of June 1639: ‘[a]fter dinner, he spends time by looking at the designs for my house in The Hague, and other matters relating to architecture, one of his favourite pastimes’.121
Inspiration and influences of French, English and German courts were integrated into the design of the interiors, exteriors and gardens for the old and new residences of the stadholder.122 This is evident from the use of concepts such as symmetry, proportionality, rationalism and decorum.123 The adoption of ‘foreign’ styles and influences is not strange considering the fact that Frederik Hendrik was partly raised at the French court and had visited the German and English court multiple times. Furthermore, he had hired French architects to work at the palace of Honselaarsdijk and Huis ter Nieuburgh and the French-Swedish architect Simon de la Vallée (1590-1642), who had previously worked at Palais du Luxembourg, was the first to be appointed official court architect to the stadholder in 1633.124 The influence of the French classicist style and theory was particularly strong but was after 1635 forged by the court architects Jacob van Campen (1596-1657) and Pieter Post (1608-1669) into a ‘quieter’ classicism.125
119 Slothouwer 1945, Ottenheym 1997, Tucker 2000.In recent years, more research has concentrated on the art patronage & displaying strategies of Amalia: Fock 2005, Broomhall & Van Gent 2016, Beranek 2017.
120 Slothouwer 1945: 25 -26, Ottenheym 1997: 105-107, Tucker 2000: 90, 96-96. 121
Ottenheym 1997: 106. 122 Israel 1999: 129-130. 123 Tucker 2000: 86.
124Baarsen 1988: 12, Ottenheym 1997: 105, Tucker 2000: 90, 96. 125
Baarsen 1988: 12, Ottenheym 1997: 108, Israel 1999: 128. According to Ottenheym, this change of style took place around 1635, when Jacob van Campen started to work on Honselaarsdijk. Van Campen was initially only involved with the interior design of Frederik’s palaces, but later worked as an architect on the renewal of Noordeinde. Pieter Post took over his work in 1640 and held an appointment as official court architect to the stadholder from 1645 onwards.
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The impact of French and Italian architectural theory is particularly noticeable at the newly constructed palaces at Honselaarsdijk and Rijswijk. The classical details, monumental staircases, symmetrical interior layouts and the ‘axis of ceremony’ as core principles of the design of the new palaces were entirely in line with the theoretical models of palaces and country houses as shown in the influential publications and treaties on architecture by Jacques Androuet I Du Cerceau (1510-1584), Sebastian Serlio (1475-c. 1554) and Andrea Palladio (1508-1580).126 For example, parts of these palaces appear to have been directly copied from designs published by Du Cerceau and Honselaarsdijk was very similar in plan to the Palais de Luxembourg in Paris.127 The main block of Honselaarsdijk was connected to two pavilions by galleries that made up three sides of a courtyard. A colonnade and gallery closed the fourth side. French influences are also visible in the design of Huis Ter Nieuburgh at Rijswijk, but instead of a courtyard, it consisted of two remote pavilions linked by galleries to a central block that contained the principal rooms. The compact, centrally planned, Huis ten Bosch with the octagonal central hall with to either side lodgings for Frederik and Amalia was inspired by designs of Palladio and Serlio for the suburban princely residence.128
Furthermore, a new apartment system, made up of the traditional French sequence of
antechambre, chambre, cabinet, and garderobbe, was introduced at the Dutch court.
Although we had already seen a sequence of four rooms at Breda, now the interrelationship of the various rooms had developed into a fixed pattern, in which the sequence of rooms served a number of fixed purposes in the reception ritual.129 This French arrangement of rooms was already incorporated in the plans for the new buildings, but in the 1630s, both the castle at Buren and the living quarters of the couple at Het Binnenhof were also renovated and redecorated to include this new standard of living. A new gallery and two new apartments were created at Buren, while at Het Binnenhof another extension was built to enlarge the living quarters with new, private, apartments.130
126 Ottenheym 1997: 106, 121-123, Tucker 2000: 86-88. These publications were part of the Orange-Nassau library collection in 1686, although the exact date of their acquisition cannot be ascertained.
127
Tucker calls in her article attention to other possible sources for the building; including the Italian influences in the classical details, the use of a dominant pediment in the centre of the building, segmental and triangular windows and the building’s reversed orientation. Moreover, according to Tucker, the features such as the octagonal towers, consistent classical details, brick building materials and moat can be seen as an architectural nod to the stammschloss of the Nassaus in Breda. (Tucker 2000: 88)
128 Loonstra 1985: 23, Ottenheym 1997: 121-123. 129 Fock 2005: 25-27.
130 Ottenheym 1997: 105, 110. The renovation at Het Binnenhof also included the addition of a new monumental staircase to enter the improved living quarters in a stately manner
29
Fig. 2.7. Plan of Palais du Luxembourg by Salomon de Brosse, 1615. (Courtesy Bibliothèque National de France)
Fig. 2.8. Model VIII from Livre d'architecture by Jacques Du Cerceau, 1559. (Courtesy Bibliothèque National de France)
Fig.2.11. Detail of bird's-eye view of Honselaarsdijk by Balthasar Florisz. van Berckenrode, c. 1635- 1645. (Courtesy Rijksmuseum)
Fig. 2.9. & 2.10. Survey of Honselaarsdijk before the renovations (L) and proposed renovations of 1644-1646 (R) by Pieter Post, 1646. (Courtesy National Archives The Hague)
