Our Time With the Duke of Wellington

As I mentioned in a previous post, I purchased a rather large hand colored engraving of the Duke of Wellington at Storey’s in London and had it shipped home. A bit later, Victoria found a smaller version of the exact same print at Gray’s Antiques Market, which enabled us from then on to complete the rest of our Wellington tour with Wellington.

I must say, Victoria and I found the Duke to be everything we’d ever imagined – and more.

After first meeting up with him, the Duke took Victoria, Brooke and myself for a drink at The Golden Lion pub, St. James’s. Who knew he was such a two fisted drinker!? And the stories he told us . . . he is funny. There was one anecdote the Duke told us about Prinny that involved a dwarf and a footman. That Prinny – what a card! I’d relate the story to you here, but Victoria feels it’s a bit too racy for public consumption.
Afterwards, the Duke took us to dinner on St. James’s Street, at an upscale venue called  Just St. James. Of course, we were given a window table with views over the Street when the hostess realized that we were with the Duke of Wellington. However, on the way down the Street towards the restaurant we had passed a venerable building with a uniformed doorman out front. Victoria stopped before him and asked, “What is this building?” Well, honest to Betsy, the man refused to answer. He just looked at us with the tiniest of smiles and kept mum.

Then, Victoria asked, “It’s Boodle’s Club, isn’t it?”
Reluctantly, the man answered, “Yes, madam, it is.”
“Ha! I knew it,” said Victoria, taking the smallest step closer to the man. “Can we come in?”
“Certainly not!”
“Well,” Victoria allowed, “it was worth a shot.”
Of course, we could have pulled out the Duke of Wellington and gained admittance, but we decided to keep him in our back pocket, so to speak.
His Grace insisted upon we ladies ordering dessert and, though we demured, we did eventually order a gorgeous cheese plate and fresh English strawberries and cream. And an Irish coffee. And a glass of port.
The Duke also escorted us to many of the lovely garden squares we visited, and to the Lansdowne Club for cocktails.
We made a visit to Horse Guards, where the Duke was pleased to find that everything was still ship shape and Bristol fashion. And from there we went to the Grenadier Pub, where we three hoisted a few pints.
We asked the Duke about the mounting block outside the pub, purported to have been his. “Rubbish!” he exclaimed. “I’ve never needed the aid of a mounting block to mount my horse and still less a paltry sort of mounting block like that one!”
 
His Grace grew a tad sentimental at seeing Windsor again, what with it’s connections to Queen Victoria. When we asked the Duke if he also remembered George IV with fondness, he replied, “Not so much.”
Though he was the most charming of companions, I must say the Duke was chomping at the bit to get back to his old stomping grounds in Brussels.

The Duke (with description and price tag intact) arrives in Brussels.
The Duke visits the British Monument to those who fell at Waterloo at a cemetary in Brussels. The poor man . . . . it was a very touching moment.
The Duke was disappointed that the building that had been the site of his Brussels Headquarters was being  refaced. Progress, he sighed philosophically,  marches on.
The Duke with two of his fans. On the right is Jeremy Black author of many history books including this one below:
We first visited the French encampment . . .
where the Duke was not amused.
Finally . . . . we and the Duke reached Waterloo and the first thing we did was . . .

to eat lunch. Oh, and have a drink. Thus fortified, we headed for the Battlefield,
where the Duke spent some time checking out the artillery.
Here we are near the site of the Duke’s greatest victory.
Even in the nastiest weather, the Duke prevailed.
And was pleased to see that his troops were still capable of pitching a demmed fine tent.
And so our time with the Duke came to an end. Victoria and I will always look back with fondness on our tour with the Duke of Wellington, the sites we visited and the many good times we shared. Having completed many campaigns in his time, the Duke was a real trooper where travel was concerned and planned our outings with military precision. Not to mention the fact that, as a gentleman, he always insisted on picking up the tab. You’ve got to love it.

The Battle of Waterloo: The Video – Part Three

At the end of the Battle, Michael, a fellow tour mate, helped me down off the Mound and we proceeded to the pub mentioned earlier for a well earned coffee and fortifying brandy. On our way there, we were fortunate enough to get up close to the battlefield and witness some dashing derring-do by men on horseback, which I’ve edited in to the video below.  What the woman beside me was cackling about, I’ve no idea. Anyway, this is what I saw:

The Battle of Waterloo: The Video – Part Two

Though the rain continued to pour down and a Frenchman on a loudspeaker insisted on narrating the entire bloody Battle (and although people persisted in standing up in front of me and blocking the view), I remained in position on the confounded Mound and stayed to finish filming the action. Actually, it was at about this point that my daughter left me to the elements and hightailed it down to the nearby pub. However, in my guise as your intrepid reporter, I manned my post, aimed my camera . . . and this is what I saw:

 
 

The Battle of Waterloo: The Video – Part One

The morning of the Battle dawned authentically – cold, wet and rainy. Arriving at the site, I watched the troops forming up. With grey skies above, the troops were subdued, yet on alert. In the distance, drummer boys beating out a battle dirge could be heard.
Drawing closer to the field, I encountered that most
dangerous of combat conditions . . . . .

Crowds of rubberneckers with cameras! Alas, your intrepid reporter could not resign herself to being left four or five deep behind the crowd. It was imperative that I find higher ground and a better vantage point. But where? Where could one find a spot that would afford a birdseye view of the Battle?
Hmmmm, let me see . . . .
Gulp.
WWWD (What Would Wellington Do)?
Gulp.
Left with no choice in the matter (I could just hear His Grace’s sneering tone should I chicken out at this juncture) I took my life in my hands (not exaggerating) and climbed to a precarious perch upon the Mound. In the rain. With thunder rolling.
And this is what I saw:

Exploring the Battlefields at Waterloo

Remember the situation in March, 1815. The victorious Allies were still carving up the map and dancing their hearts out at the Congress of Vienna. When they learned of Napoleon’s escape from Elba and his intention to re-establish his empire, the Allies designated four armies to prevent this.  One was British and Belgian-Dutch with some German elements, commanded by Wellington, pictured above.
After Napoleon’s first abdication, much of the cream of the British forces had been sent to America to fight in what became known as the War of 1812, but actually continued until after the Peace Treaty was signed in December 1814. The Battle of New Orleans, which took the life of the Duke of Wellington’s brother-in-law General Sir Edward ‘Ned’ Pakenham (1778 – 1815) and hundreds of others on both sides, did not occur until January 8, 1815, beause news of the Treaty had not reached America. Drawing: Death of Pakenham

After he reached Paris, Napoleon’s plan was to march north from the French border to Brussels, defeating the Allied troops stationed around Brussels led by Wellington and the Prussian troops who were moving west from Germany toward a rendezvous with Wellington.  Napoleon planned to prevent that meeting by keeping the two Allied armies apart. The plan of Wellington and Blücher was to meet up and defeat the French forces. At right, Prussian Field Marshall Gebhard Leberecht von Blücher.

The first battle was Quatre Bras (pronounced something like Ka-tra-BRA, meaning Four Arms), a strategic crossroads village. The road from the French border north to Brussels here crosses the east-west road from Germany to the coastal ports. At left, Quatre Bras today.

The English arrived here on the morning of June 16 and met French forces sent by Napoleon and led by Marshal Ney. As more and more Allied troops arrived, Wellington was able to hold off the French.

Meanwhile, at Ligny, near Fleurus in present day Belgium, the Prussian forces were beaten by the French.  Right, the battlefield  at Ligny where the Prussians were defeated.
Above, the monument at Fleurus honors three French victories. The 1815 victory at the nearby village of Ligny over the Prussians was the final victory of Napoleon’s career on June 16, 1815. Two days later, so to speak, he met his Waterloo!
Another sign at Quatre Bras.  On the next day, Saturday, June 17, 1815, Wellington and his troops withdrew, fighting off the French, to the north. Blücher had moved his army to Wavre, north of their defeat at Ligny. Wellington wanted to stay even with Blücher so they could join up

 to fight the French with their combined forces.

Several monuments to the Prussians are found around the area.
Below is the courtyard of La Belle Alliance, where Blücher and Wellington met after the battle on the evening of Sunday, June 18, 1815. They agreed that the Prussians should chase the fleeing French back to the border and into France. Meanwhile, Wellington would rest his troops for a day or so before joining in the pursuit. For most of the day, the British-Netherlands-Hanoverian troops had held out against the French until the Prussians arrived on the Western flank of the battle. At this point the British troops drove back the French Imperial Guard and it was soon a rout.  
above two pictures, La Belle Alliance
The nearby Victor Hugo Monument. There are many insightful accounts of what happened at Waterloo. Hugo’s is NOT one of them.  I guess Hugo (1802–1885) found it difficult to believe that Napoleon was defeated. He wrote, “Waterloo! Waterloo! Waterloo! Morne plaine!” which translates as “Waterloo! Waterloo! Waterloo! Dismal plain!” 
 This is our first view of the Waterloo battlefield. As you can see, the day was sunny and bright, but that didn’t last. It was just the opposite 195 years ago. It poured rain all night and left both armies cold, wet, and hungry. Wellington’s troops were drawn up looking in the direction of this picture. Napoleon’s army was on the opposite side of the valley to the south. 
All morning the Allies waited for the attack, but the French were waiting for the ground to dry out a bit. The mud made it almost impossible to move cannons, but the weather improved a little by the opening salvo about 11:30 am. 
 This is the famous Lion Mount, a memorial to the Prince of Orange on the spot where he was wounded. It was created from 10 million cubic feet of earth, scraped from the battlefield. The Prince was a sort of second-in-command to Wellington, but most British historians feel he was too young and inexperienced to have contributed much.  
When the Duke of Wellington saw the Lion Mound (constructed from 1824-26), he complained, “They have ruined my battlefield.”   In this view, we were walking toward the cafes, visitor’s center, panorama and the Lion Mound, which is also near the tree under which Wellington directed most of the battle.
As you can see, by our second and longer visit to the actual battlefield, it had darkened up with rainclouds. In another blog, we cover our visit to the encampment of the French re-enactors at Caillou, the small farmhouse in which Napoleon spent the night of June 17-18.
Here we all are trying to duck out of the rain at the site of the Battlefield Welcome center, Panorama, and cluster of restaurants. Wonder if the Zebra Crossing would have helped or hindered Wellington’s operations.
The actual village of Waterloo is a few miles north. The building in which Wellington spent the night before the battle and in which he wrote most of his Waterloo dispatch afterwards is now a museum. Right, more views of the restaurants, etc. at the battlefield.
In the souvenir shop, at least they had a copy of the book in English, but it was rather begrudging
about Wellington’s victory over Napoleon.  Must have been translated from the French!
Kristine is entirely annoyed at the lack of Wellington memorabilia — Napoleon (the loser) on the other hand, was everywhere. Busts, action figures, key chains, tee shirts, you name it, Napoleon’s face was on it. Bah, we said. Remember who won.
We had to take shelter from occasional showers in these tents set up for text panels explaining the battle, but there were so many people crowded in them we could not read them in any sort of reasonable order.
This sign reads, in four languages (German, French, English and Flemish): “The French cavalry charges.  Welcome to the site of the famous Battle of Waterloo. This is the place where, on Sunday 18 June 1815, nearly 180,000 men confronted each other for over ten hours with more than 35,000 horses and with 500 cannons firing. We are on the site of the main English line of defence, established by the Duke of Wellington, over more than 3 km. Starting at 16.00 and coming from the south, it was mainly here that seven or eight charges of more than 8,000 French cavalrymen, led by Marshal Ney, poured through for two hours under the fire of the allied infantrymen without nonetheless succeeding  in breaking the English defence squares. Each of these squares consisted of around 600 men, in three ranks, shoulder to shoulder, and all pointing their muskets and bayonets toward the outside.”
Like most of the postings around Waterloo, it doesn’t actually say the Allied forces won and the French lost, does it?
Saturday afternoon, under threatening skies, we walked diagonally across the final section of the battlefield in the waving wheat. I am sure the horses and marching columns of men mowed it down quite effectively on Sunday.
People risked life and limb to get the best shot!
Above and below, the current state of the remnants of the sunken road that ran alongside the battleground and caused trouble for the French cavalry.
The Hussars conduct reconnaissance of the battlefield on Saturday. The weather was no better on Sunday, the day of the actual reenactment.  But at least it was, in some part, historically accurate.
Here are a couple of suggestions for further reading on the Battle of Waterloo.  If you are a fiction fan, the account in Georgette Heyer’s novel An Infamous Army was once used as a text at the British military college Sandhurst.
The final Sharpe adventure is excellent, and the account of the battle is reasonably accurate if you remove Sharpe from the action, in a sense.
The late Elizabeth Longford wrote a two-volume biography of the Duke of Wellington. In the first of these, The Years of the Sword, there is an excellent account of the battle.
Of course there are hundreds of books about the Battle of Waterloo, the Peninsular Wars, the Napoleonic Wars, the Congress of Vienna, etc. etc. as well as websites, blogs and films.  I haven’t fnished it yet, but I also recommend the book by the expert who accompanied our Waterloo visit, Jeremy Black of the Univerity of Exeter, UK.
To conclude, here is the painting of Waterloo after the battle by Joseph Mallord William Turner RA (1775–1851). It hangs in the Tate Britain in London and portrays the horrors of the aftermath, the wounded and dying men and horses, the mud, the searching and grieving friends and relatives, the scavengers, the essential darkness.