Category: Kristine Hughes

On The Wellington Trail – Part One

Oh, joy – two weeks of all things Wellington coupled with chasing down and buying Artie-facts – bliss! Here’s an overview of what Vicky and I saw and did – individual posts on each to follow.

Of course, on this trip the Wellington Trail began at Apsley House. We were there within hours of my landing. And, yes, Vicky was telling the truth about the naked bicyclists (London World Naked Bike Ride). Honestly, what would Artie have thought?! Actually, Vicky and I were discussing it later that evening with a man at our local pub who told me that if I thought that Wellington would object to naked women riding past his house that I should have another think. It wasn’t, I told him, the women to whom I thought the Duke would object.

As we were getting into the cab headed to Apsley House, we were treated to our first Artie-dote. When I told the driver that our destination was Apsley House, he looked confused. “Number One London,” I added. “At the corner of Hyde Park and Park Lane.” “Oh,” replied the driver, “You mean the Wellington Museum.” No, actually, I meant Apsley House, but we got there just the same.

(By the way, try to find a photo of the London Naked Bike Ride that doesn’t have all the nasty bits on full view. It’s not easy)
 
 
But back to Apsley House and another most amusing Artie-dote. There I was in the Waterloo Gallery, the large picture gallery that was also used for the annual Waterloo Dinner, as well as for balls and concerts and such. Here, the Duke had installed an ingenious system whereby sliding mirrors hidden within the walls could be pulled out and across the windows at night, thereby reflecting candlelight throughout the room. Well, while we were there, one of the docents announced that it was time to pull the mirrors across the windows and that anyone who wished to could watch the operation. Closer I crept. You betcha. So did a couple standing nearby. Once the windows had been covered, the man said to his wife, “You know, those mirrors aren’t really made of glass at all. They’re made of steel.” “Really?” his wife asked, stepping in close in order to examine the mirrors. “Yes,” said the husband, “They’re made of steel and that’s why they called Wellington the Iron Duke.” I know, I know . . . . hysterical, right?
Continuing down the Wellington Trail, Vicky and I also visited Horse Guards, where Wellington’s office still contains his desk. Inquiries at the gift shop resulted in my being told that it’s not typically open to the public, hence I’ll have to write in advance for permission to view it before my next trip over. Still, it was nice to walk the cobbles on which Wellington’s boots had once trod. The view of the men in uniform wasn’t too shabby, either.  
 
The two windows above the three arches are Wellington’s office.

Vicky and I also visited the National Army Museum, which has wonderful Napoleonic/Artie/Waterloo displays – a full report on the Museum will follow. For now, you should know that one of the exhibits included the saw used to amputate Henry Paget/Lord Uxbridge/the Marquess of Angelesey’s leg (same guy, lot’s of titles), as well as the bloodied glove worn by the surgeon during the operation. (I don’t tell you this for it’s high gruesome content – it ties in to what’s coming up in Part 2)   
Vicky and I next went to the Victoria and Albert’s  Art in Love Exhibition at the Queen’s Gallery – again, a full account on that to come, as well. One of the first paintings hanging in the very first room you entered was the one below, by Winterhalter:
And then we went to Windsor to meet and the spend the day with Hester Davenport (oh, boy – wait till you hear this story!) We visited the Castle, where this picture hangs:
 
In between all of these Artie sightings, Vicky and I had gone to Ce
cil Court one morning. In the window of an antique shop called Mark Sullivan Antiques (at left), I spied a Staffordshire figurine of the Duke of Wellington (below). About two feet high. Hand painted. Staffordshire. . . . I gazed upon it with my nose pressed to the shop window. I pointed it out to Vicky and then we both gazed at it with our noses pressed to the shop window. I knew at that moment that it was destined to be mine. The sign on the shop door said they opened at 10 a.m. It was 10 a.m.
 
 
 
Vicky finally pulled me away from the window and we went next door to Storey’s, the print seller, and spent at least an hour looking at all of the cartoons and Napoleonic era prints until the owner took us downstairs to the room where they kept the Artie-facts. Here, Vicky found and bought a print of a scene of Viermo and I made my first Wellington purchase this trip, a hand colored portrait like the one below (mine is out being framed, so I can’t show it to you yet) By the time we’d left, the antique shop next door was still closed. Rats.
 
 

 

So Vicky and I toddled our way over to Covent Garden and Grosvenor Prints, where Vicky asked them to pull their file of fashion prints and I asked for the Artie-facts folder. We spent a good hour and a half going through our respective folios. Alas, I found nothing that I didn’t already have or that I coveted to distraction. . . . Until I came across a dinner invitation issued by the the Duke from Apsley House to Lord and Lady Cottenham. The invitation states that since the dinner was to be held on the day set aside for the observance of Her Majesty’s birthday, it might be convenient for Lord and Lady Cottenham to arrive dressed. (Unless, one supposes, they were thinking to participate in the Naked Bike Ride conveniently held on the Duke’s dooorstep). Yes, of course, I purchased the invitation and Vicky purchased some really lovely fashion prints.
One of the stops on our tour during Open Garden Week in London (again, more on that later) was the garden at Wellington Square. Vicky and I are now certain that this should be the location of our UK base. Not only are the houses and square gorgeous, but the address is perfect.
 
 
 
One of the Wellington sightings was made by Vicky, who went on her own to the Wallace Collection, a short walk from our London base. There, Vicky viewed and photographed a miniature of Wellington done by Jean-Baptiste Isabey. The Collection’s website offers the following background: After Napoleon’s abdication in 1814 he painted the Emperor’s former enemies, including Prince August of Prussia (miniature also displayed in this case) and the Duke of Wellington (1769-1852). The following year the Duke was to be the victor at the Battle of Waterloo, Napoleon’s final defeat after his return to France from exile on the island of Elba. The first meeting between Isabey and Wellington took place in Paris, but there were further sittings in Vienna when Wellington was one of the representatives at the congress which determined the future political composition of Europe. According to Isabey himself, when Wellington first came to his studio in Paris, he ‘treated me in a manner so unceremonious and British that I was obliged to refuse flatly the honour of painting his august features. When he realised that I had found him rude, he came again accompanied by the Duchess de Santa Cruz, and I consented to paint his portrait after all.’

The Duke, who during his long life was to sit for countless portraits, was often a generous patron but was also notorious for his often brusque way with artists. By adopting a low viewpoint Isabey has effectively conveyed the hauteur of his sitter. The Wallace Collection’s version of the original (now lost) miniature is dated 1818 and shows Wellington wearing some of his many decorations: the ribbon and jewel of the Golden Fleece, the Peninsular Gold Cross and the sta
r and badge of the Order of the Tower and Sword of Portugal. The splendid frame is decorated round the edge with the chain of the Order of the Garter and is surmounted by a trophy comprising a sword, a baton, two flags and a ducal coronet on a cushion; at the bottom is the letter W on a banner.
The miniature was bought by the 4th Marquess of Hertford, father of Sir Richard Wallace, at auction in Paris in 1852. Lord Hertford collected objects with Napoleonic associations, as many of the paintings and miniatures in this gallery demonstrate, but he was also deeply interested in the Duke of Wellington. His friend Colonel Gurwood was the Duke’s secretary. Both men are shown in a painting by Andrew Morton on display in the Front Hall of the Wallace Collection.
A photo of this painting taken by Vicky appears below.
 
Part Two of On The Wellington Trail coming soon . . . . . .

A Bird, a Tourist and a Camera

There once was a rather shy bird named Francois, who lived in a beautiful park by the Eiffel Tower. One day, Francois heard a pesky tourist coming closer, so he ducked behind some flowers.

Eh, it’s only another American lady with a camera, thought Francois.  
Francois decided that he might as well climb out onto the rock beside his lake and take a closer look.

Pish! Do ze tourists have nothing better to do? Why don’t zey go and sit by a lake instead?
Perhaps, thought Francois, if I turn my back on her she’ll get ze hint and go away.

Heh, what’s that? Ze lady says I’m a very handsome bird. . . allors, I am a handsome bird, non?
I am quite handsome from ze front . . .
and from ze left . . . . .
and also from ze right . . . . hey! Hey, American lady, where do you go? Francois has many good sides left, come back! You don’t want anymore photos of that stupid Tower. Come back, mon cher  . . . . . . . . !

Paris – Beyond the Eiffel Tower

An allee at Le Jardin du Plantes
Iconic view of Montmartre
Er . . . one of the bridges over the Seine.
More Montmartre below – we took a “Paris Walks” of the area.

This square in Montmartre is the last where artists gather. Many drawing tourist portraits.
Below is a snap of a random woman in front of a gorgeous, flower clad restaurant. Oh, and a street sign.

Our first glimpse of Notre Dame
A Notre Dame spire.
The Louvre and Notre Dame
We caught the tail end of the bird and flower market near Notre Dame when we arrived on Sunday.
Above are photos of a typical Parisian sidewalk cafe and . . . er . . . . a really pretty building we saw during our cruise down the Seine.

Yes, Virginia, There is an Eiffel Tower

Okay, alright, I admit it – the Eiffel Tower exists. And I became as enthralled by it as everyone else, as evidenced by the multitude of photos included here. Brooke and I were allowed only a fleeting glimpse of the Tower during our taxi ride to the hotel. Next day, we boarded one of those hop on, hop off, double decker tourist buses and set off on a tour of Paris. At one point, we rounded a corner and there, in all it’s glory, was the Eiffel Tower. As Brooke remarked, actually seeing it in person, and rather unexpectedly, takes your breath away. These are photos from my camera – and I hardly took any snaps at all, leaving the bulk of that duty to Vicky and Brooke. I can only imagine how many images of the Tower Brooke has on her camera. Without a doubt, we have 360 degree views of the Tower. From every angle. At any time of day or night. Wallpaper anyone? As promised in my previous post concerning the Eiffel Tower, I apologise to the French people for ever doubting it’s existence. 

Back in the U.S. of A

Kristine here, back in the land of television shows in English and computer keyboards with all the keys where they should be. I did try to post while in France, but honestly, it was too frustrating. As Vicky has posted, once she is also back in the States we’ll be posting blogs and pics of our trip, but for now I’ll give you the highlights of the Wellington tour once Vicky and I parted ways. Vicky and Ed left us on Sunday morning, Battle of Waterloo day, in order to make their cruise connection. Brooke and I went on with the tour to the re-enactment site.

When we’d visited the day before to see the military camps, La Belle Alliance and Hougemount, someone had asked me if I were going to walk to the top of the Lion’s Mound, the great man-made hill erected to commemorate the Battle and I responded, emphatically, no. It’s an almost verticle hill with many, many steps to the top. Well, dear reader, never say never. It turns out that there were so many visitors to the battle that if you’d stayed on the ground, you’d never see a thing, being five or six deep in a crowd of spectators. It was absolutely freezing on the day, and had rained the day before so Brooke and I bought commemorative Waterloo blankets (not kidding) and began the long climb up the mound. We got about half way there and found ourselves spots from which to view the action. Once you left the stairs, you had to crouch down in order to walk to your place, the slope is so steep. Also, it’s covered in slippery grass, with no footholds to speak of. Talk about harrowing. Brooke later told me that she’d never before actually seen terror in anyone’s eyes as she had when she was helping me to our place. The fact that people above us kept losing their personal items – cameras, umbrellas and such – and that these kept rolling down the hill past us did not offer us much comfort. At last we found purchase, digging our heels and butts into the hillside in order to gain a bit of purchase, and settled in for the show. . .

And what a show it was. It was absolutely thrilling to be in the thick of the Battle, so to speak. The  formations, the cannons going off, the rifles being fired, the smoke enveloping the field as mounted calvary cantered across the field, all of it was fabulous. And to add to the authenticity of the thing, it began to bucket down rain. So now I’m precariously perched on the side of the Mound, watching the battle, holding an umbrella over us and trying to film the Battle. It was at this point that Brooke told me she wasn’t into Wellington as much as I was and this was all more of a sacrifice than she was prepared to make and that she was going down the pub to wait for me in the dry, with a drink. Thank God one of fellow tour members, an exceedingly nice man who was a retired police detective from Surrey, was with us and able to help me back down the Mound at the end or I’d still be sitting at the Battlefield.

Vicky and I took masses of photos all along the way and we promise to post them soon – shots of the military camps, the battle sites and lots of re-enactors in various uniforms. I also took much video – including footage of “Wellington” on horseback, galloping between regiments – and if I can figure out how to edit these, I’ll be posting them in the near future. It’s grand to be back and we look forward to sharing our trip via our posts here soon.