Category: Kristine Hughes

DINNER WITH THE DUKE OF WELLINGTON

“How do you feel about going to Philadelphia in November?” I asked Hubby one day back in September.

“Philly? Why do you want to go to Philly?” Hubby asked in return.

Channeling the wide eyed, innocent look often adopted by Lucy Ricardo, I answered, “Oh, I thought we could spend a few days in the city and then a couple of days visiting your family.”

“My family? Oh, no. Uh uh,” Hubby said, narrowing his eyes at me. “You’ve got something up your sleeve. There’s something British going on. Who’s going to be there, the Queen? Prince Charles?”

“The Duke of Wellington.”

“That’d be some trick.”

“Not Artie. The 9th Duke of Wellington.”

“There’s a 9th Duke of Wellington?”

“Long live the Duke.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. What exacty are you talking about?”

“The Duke of Wellington will be giving a lecture for the Royal Oak Society at the Union League in Philly on November 19th. There’s a dinner afterwards. We can spend two days in Philly and then drive into the suburbs to see Laura and Terry and Mike.”

“Okay, I’m in.”

Now it was my turn to narrow my eyes at Hubby. “There’s a dinner afterwards. After the lecture. By the Duke of Wellington.”

“Heard you.”

“The dress is business formal.”

“What does that mean? I don’t have to rent a tux, do I?”

“No. But you do have to wear a suit. Tie. Dress shoes.”

“I do have suits, you know. And dress shoes.”

“So . . . . you’ll go with me?”

“Yeah, I’ll go.” Who was this masked man?

“Let’s try your suits on and see which one fits best.”

“We have two months! There’s no rush. I’ll try them on closer to the day.” Ah, now I recognized him. Hubby. Really, I couldn’t push Hubby about the suit. He’d just agreed to sitting through a lecture, after all.

“Er, do you know how to address the Duke?”

“Huh?”

“Should you meet him face to face during the evening, do you know how to greet him? I mean, you can’t say ‘Hey, how you doing, man?’

Hubby rolled his eyes. “Save it. Whatever it is you want me to say, save till closer to the day. I just hope it won’t be anything as weird as the wedding vows you made me say. What was that again?”

“I pledge thee my troth.”

“Yup. That’s the one. My troth. Whatever that is. And I still don’t believe that anyone else pledges their troth when they get married, even if they are British. I don’t have to bow or anything, do I?”

“Only if you want to.”

“Well, I don’t. Are we going to eat dinner tonight, or what?”

And so I waited until two weeks befor the day before broaching the subject of suits with Hubby again. Obediently, he went and got his two black suits from the closet. After dusting them off, I held one out to him. “Here, try this one first.”

 Hubby donned the pants and then the jacket. “Well?” he asked. “It fits.”

“Yes, but who does it fit?”

“Waddya mean?”

“You look like you’re wearing your grandfather’s clothes. Your really big grandfather. Look how much material is in the sleeves. Arnold Swarzenegger could get his arm in there with yours. Try the other one on. Please.”

He did. And it fit like a glove. The sleeves were perfect, the length, as well. Like a glove. There is a God.

“Right. That’s the one. Take it off and I’ll bring it to the cleaners.” And so I did. And then I went to pick it up from the cleaners on Monday. I handed my ticket over and the girl behind the counter started the clothes carousel going round and round. And round. And round again. And then one last time for good measure.

Coming back to the counter she said, “Er, it’s not here.”

I blinked at her. “My ticket says it would be ready two days ago.”

“Oh, it’s ready. It’s checked in on the computer as having been cleaned and returned to us, but it’s not where it should be.”

I stared at her a moment before saying, “My husband has an important dinner on Thursday. We’re going out of town, with his suit, on Wednesday. He. Must. Have. That. Suit.”

“Look, if you give me a few hours, I promise I’ll go through every single garment we have here and try to find it. It’s here, it just wasn’t put in the proper place.”

Aside from losing my mind, or pitching a fit, I had no choice but to agree to this. There was no way in the world Hubby was wearing his grandfather’s suit to meet the Duke of Wellington.

When I called back, I was told that Hubby’s suit was given to the wrong customer. They had been calling and leaving messages on the customer’s phone, but hadn’t heard back yet. I took a deep breath and tried to calm down. WWAD? For the uninformed, that stands for What Would Artie Do? Breathe. Think. Calmly. I could rush Hubby out of the house and into a menswear store. I could even buy him a new suit. But there would be alternations needed. Inevitably. Alterations that would take more than a day to turn around. It was Monday. We were flying out on Wednesday. As I had no Marshall Blucher in reserve, you’ll understand that I then allowed myself to panic.

“We’ll keep trying to reach the customer,” the girl at the other end of the phone said.

In the end, and in a close call to rival that at the Battle of Waterloo, the customer did return their calls, the suit was delivered to the dry cleaners and I went to pick it up. With about four seconds to spare.

So, Hubby and I arrived in Philly, with the suit, and the next day – the day of the dinner – turned out to be a rainy one. We’d planned on doing a few museums and walking the City, but now had to regroup. It occurred to me that Philly, like most larger cities, might have a Big Bus Tour. The doorman at hotel confirmed that this was so and even arranged for the tour operator to send a courtesy van to pick us up at the hotel and deliver us back after the tour. We were able to see the sights in comfort and warmth.

Betsy Ross’s House above and below.


The “Rocky” steps above. 
After the tour, we returned to the hotel in order to get dressed for the Wellington Lecture. 
“You look nice,” Hubby said.
“Do you think?” I asked. “I feel like I should either be holding menues and asking ‘how many in your party?’ or standing at the front of an airline cabin pointing out the emergency exits. Business formal, indeed.”

So, after drinks in the hotel bar, Hubby and I headed outside the hotel to get a cab. None to be had, we were told by the doorman. Huh? Apparently, Philly cabs were overloaded due to the rain. Huh? It rains in London. It rains in Manhattan. There are still cabs. We had fifteen minutes to get to the Union League. Long minutes ticked by with no cabs in sight. I could not believe that I was going to be late for a lecture I’d waited months to attend because of rain. The words “a horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse” ran through my mind, but I didn’t think Hubby would appreciate the similarity.

“We should walk,” I said at last.

Hubby looked at me as though I’d suggested getting naked and dancing the samba in the street. “Don’t be crazy.”

“We are going to miss the Duke of Wellington,” I hissed in response. “The Duke of Wellington.”

It was at this point that we were approached by a man. “I understand from the doorman that you need to get to the Union League. Get in. I’ll drive you there.”

I looked over to see that he had a private car. “Really?”

“Yes. Come on. I’m an Uber car. Get in.”

We got in. We drove the five blocks and got to the Union League with seconds to spare. I gave the driver a twenty dollar bill and am still remembering him in my nightly prayers.

Reader, we were in time for the Wellington Lecture. Words, I trust, are not necessary.

I suspect that the lecture series was prompted by the fact that The Duke of Wellington has reworked and expanded a book called The Iconography of the Duke of Wellington which was written by a former Duke in 1935. The new coffee table book, Wellington Portrayed, was on sale and you can rest assured that I bagged myself a copy.

When I reached the Duke at the front of the line, I handed him our Number One London card. He was seated at a table, he looked at the card and then looked up at me, taking note of the Wellington miniature I wore on my lapel.

“It’s our blog. We’ve been doing it for about four years. All things Wellington, all the time.”

“Really?” I couldn’t tell if this was a good really or a cease and desist really.

“Yes. And we did a Duke of Wellington Tour last year and went to all the sites associated with the Duke, including Apsley House and Stratfield Saye.”

“Did you visit Walmer?”

“Yes, Your Grace. And Horse Guards.” The Duke made no comment, but did sign my copy of his book.

And he deigned to take a photograph with his most loyal flight attendant. 

AT AUCTION: SELECTED ITEMS FROM HOOTON PAGNELL HALL

All the magic of an English Country House sale will come to town when Bonhams auctions the selected contents of Hooton Pagnell Hall in London on Tuesday 1 December.

View the video of the history of Hooton Pagnell Hall and it’s collections here. 



Hooton Pagnell Hall is one of Yorkshire’s most important and oldest country houses with a history stretching back to the Doomsday Book. It has been home to the Warde family for more than 300 years. Over the centuries successive generations have added their stamp and the house is a treasure trove of objects.

Now the current owner and ninth generation of the family to live at Hooton Pagnell Hall, Mark Warde-Norbury, has decided to sell a selection of the contents. As he explained to the arts journalist Philippa Stockley writing in the winter edition of Bonhams Magazine: “we have five grand pianos and six grandfather clocks. We have to clear some things out in order to move forward.”
“This sale has everything you’d expect from an English Country House sale”, says Bonhams Director of Valuations, Harvey Cammell. “An important view of Windsor Castle, for example, by the renowned watercolourist Paul Sandby; a gruesome – and still functioning – man trap used in the 19th century to deter poachers; a truly remarkable Pietra Dura marble chest inlaid with exquisite birds and vases of lilies brought back from the Grand Tour; and correspondence from the Lady with the Lamp – Florence Nightingale – and the Iron Duke himself the Duke of Wellington.”

Among the most fascinating items are letters to the explorer and scientist Edward Wilson who reached the South Pole with Captain Scott in 1912 only to die with the rest of the party on the return journey. The owners had a close association with Wilson through his brother who was the Hall’s estate manager. A poignant letter to him from Julia Warde-Aldam wishing him a safe return, sent after his death but before the news of the tragedy was known, is included in the sale together with rare first editions of the polar expeditions of Scott and Shackleton.

Julia Warde-Aldam was also at the center of Hooton Pagnell Hall’s role during World War I when, like so many country houses, it was converted into a hospital and convalescence home. Several items in the sale attest to that melancholy period in the Hall’s history none more so perhaps than the crewel work bedspread made for her by a grateful patient with the words: ‘LOVINLY WORKED FOR MRS WARDE-ALDAM BY LK BEGUN IN 1913 FINISHED IN THE YEAR OF PEACE 1919.’ Mrs Warde-Aldam received many gifts at this time including a large stuffed crocodile.
The sale consists of more than 600 lots. It will be held at Bonhams Knightsbridge on 1 December and available to view there from Saturday 28th November.

Details of items mentioned in the text:
Windsor castle from the Thames with figures in the foreground by Paul Sandby (1730-1809), £40,000-60,000.
An Italian 17th century ebony, pietra dura and specimen marble cabinet, £20,000-30,000.
Warrant document signed by the Duke of Wellington, £200-300.
Handwritten letter from Florence Nightingale, £400-600.
First edition of Scott’s Last Expedition, 2 vol., including correspondence from Edward Wilson, £2,000-3,000.
Scott’s The Voyage of the Discovery, 2 vol., £1,000-1,500.
Ernest Shackleton, The Heart of the Antarctic. Being the Story of the British Antarctic Expedition 1907-1909, 3 vol., £8,000-12,000.
South Polar Times, vol. 1-2 edited by Shackleton, £5,000-7,000.
A 19th century iron mantrap, with eighteen inch jaws and a tilting footplate, £400-600.
An early 20th century crewel work bedspread, £400-600.

IS IT JANUARY YET?!

Each year, it seems as though time speeds up at the end of September. Before we know it, Halloween is upon us and before you know it, we’re shopping for Thanksgiving turkeys and then its on to Christmas shopping, tree buying and decorating and suddenly it’s New Years Eve. Caught up in the warp speed of time myself, I’m not trying to rush things further, but really – is it January yet? There are so many good things coming to telly that it’s hard to be patient.

Of course, topping the list as my personal favourite is the Sherlock Christmas Special. Not only will Sherlock, John, Mrs. Hudson and Mary return, but they’ll be in Victorian London – Huzza! The holiday special, The Abominable Bride, will air on Friday, January 1, 2016 in both the US and the UK – Happy New Year, indeed.

From an October 24, 2015 RadioTimes article:

Sherlock creators Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat have a history of taking the titles of original Arthur Conan Doyle stories and putting a spin on them. A Study in Scarlet became A Study in Pink, The Sign of Four became The Sign of Three and the Empty House became The Empty Hearse. Meanwhile, they’ve also given cheeky nods to cases that are mentioned in passing by the original Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson but were never actually written, such as the giant rat of Sumatra and the Aluminium Crutch.
What they haven’t done is put the two together – until now…
As Mark Gatiss told us when he revealed the title of the Victorian-themed Sherlock special, The Abominable Bride, at London ComicCon on Saturday, it’s inspired by Holmes’s throwaway reference to the case of “Ricoletti of the club foot and his abominable wife”.
The mention comes during the Sherlock Holmes short story The Musgrave Ritual, which begins with Holmes sorting through some old case files with Watson.
“Here’s the record of the Tarleton murders and the case of Vamberry, the wine merchant, and the adventure of the old Russian woman, and the singular affair of the aluminium crutch, as well as a full account of Ricoletti of the club foot and his abominable wife,” says the detective.
And that’s pretty much that, meaning that we know almost nothing about Ricoletti and his wife – beyond the fact that he had a club foot and she was, apparently, abominable.

It looks fabulous, as you’ll see for yourself by watching the official trailer here.  So nice to know that the game will soon be afoot once more.

Next up is the final season of Downton Abbey airing in the US on Sunday, January 4, 2016. As the photo above demonstrates, everyone’s got their coats on, but where are they all going? It appears that we’ll have to wait and see.

You’ll find a fabulous five minute long video compilation of the best of the past five seasons ending with a teaser for the final season here.

The cast members become emotional as they discuss filming the final scenes in this clip.

If you need to need to be reminded of why we love the Dowager Countess, watch this. 

PBS offers a slideshow of photos highlighting scenes from the final season here.

And if you can bear it, watch the Downton Abbey Final Episode Trailer here.

Finally, Ricky Gervais will return as host of the 73rd Annual Golden Globes on January 10, 2016 which, depending on your personal preference, can either be a good thing or a bad thing. As Variety reported:

“We’re excited to have Ricky Gervais back to host the most enjoyable awards show of the season in his own inimitable way,” said NBC Entertainment chairman Robert Greenblatt in a statement. “Disarming and surprising, Ricky is ready to honor — and send up — the best work of the year in film and television. Fasten your seats belts.”
Gervais, who hosted the Globes for three consecutive years from 2010-2012, will take over for co-hosts Tina Fey and Amy Poehler, who also saw a three-year stint.
The Emmy-winning star of “The Office” and Netflix’s “Derek” had previously sworn off hosting the Globes again after his controversial jokes, which included a dig at Jodie Foster’s sexuality, raised a few eyebrows at the Beverly Hilton ceremony.
“Actors aren’t just loved here in Hollywood, they are loved the world over,” he said in 2012, holding one of his trademark pints of beer. “You could be a little Asian child with no possessions and no m
oney. But you could see a picture of Angelina Jolie and you’d think, ‘Mummy!’”
Gervais later responded to the backlash by saying, “I’ve told my agent to never let me be persuaded to do it again though. It’s like a parachute jump.”
But his final hosting stint drew mostly positive reviews and nearly 17 million viewers, which NBC noted in its press release.