A TOUR GUIDE IN ENGLAND: DAY 3 – PART ONE

Diane and I began Day 3 with a cab ride to Sloane Square, where we met authors Louise Allen/Melanie Hilton and Beth Elliot for a visit to the Chelsea Physick Gardens. As some of you may know, Beth writes Regency romance and Louise writes Regencies, as well as several non-fiction books, including Walks Through Regency London and To The Field of Waterloo: The First Battlefield Tourists. I had mentioned to Melanie that I wanted to pop in to the Royal Chelsea Hospital in the hopes of visiting the site that once held Ranelagh Gardens, above. Melanie came prepared with research notes and a map and off we set – 
The four of us headed out of Sloane Square and down the King’s Road. 
It was fairly slow going, as we were chatting and stopping to take in 
architectural details along the way. 
Unfortunately, once we’d gotten to the Hospital, we discovered that the Ranelagh Gardens site was inaccessible, as the site was being prepared to host the Royal Chelsea Flower Show, opening in a few days time. Beth, Melanie and I decided instead to visit the Hospital’s Museum, while Diane was otherwise occupied, below. 
We found this portrait of the Duke of Wellington in the entrance hall, 
along with French Eagles, such as the one below. 
Back outside, we stopped for a photo before heading to the Physick Garden:
Left to right: Beth, Melanie and Diane. 
Part Two Coming Soon!

ONCE AGAIN WEDNESDAY: Prinny's Fete Honoring the Duke of Wellington

On July 21,1814 the Prince Regent held a Fete in the temporary rooms in the garden of Carlton House to honor the Duke of Wellington. The first of the two thousand guests began to arrive at nine o’clock. They were received at the grand entrance by equerries who conducted the guests to the fanciful rooms and tents on the garden front of Carlton House.

John Nash built a series of temporary rooms and buildings in the garden at Carlton House to house the fete. The illustration at right depicts the side garden in 1820. A polygonal ballroom one hundred and twenty feet in diameter with a tented roof was the main feature. The room was brick with a leaded roof. The interior of the ballroom was designed to give the impression of summer light, airiness, and festivity. It was designed to replicate a huge bell tent so the umbrella shaped ceiling was painted to resemble muslin. The upper walls and ceiling were then hung with gilt cords and tassels to further the resemblance to a tent. Muslin draperies covered the walls. They were swagged open to reveal mirrors hung on the walls. The ballroom was illuminated with twelve sparkling chandeliers. A pair of flower covered temples had been erected in the polygonal ballroom to screen the bands. A covered promenade hung with draperies and rose colored cords led to a Corinthian temple. Inside was a marble bust of the Duke of Wellington by Turnerelli placed on a column in front of a large mirror engraved with a star and a capital letter W. Another covered walkway hung with green calico displayed transparencies representing such subjects as the “Overthrow of Tyranny by the Allied Power”. Elsewhere in the garden were supper tents and refreshment rooms hung with white and rose curtains and with regimental colors printed on silk.

The Regent himself appeared in his field marshal’s full dress uniform wearing his English, French, and Prussian orders. He had long wished to be made a field marshal of the British army, but his father had steadfastly refused on the grounds that since George was the Prince of Wales and several of his brothers were pursuing military careers they should hold some honors he did not. Now, as Prince Regent, George could suit himself. The fete was a great success. Even the Queen stayed until half-past four and many guests were still there at dawn.

It’s interesting to note that only a few days before the fete, George IV had much more on his mind besides the upcoming festivities – Princess Charlotte and he had come to loggerheads regarding the question of where she was to live. The following account is from George IV: Memoirs of His Life and Reign by Hannibal Evans Lloyd, though this is just one of a hundred accounts of the episode:

The differences between the Prince Regent and the Princess of Wales caused his Royal Highness some pain on account of the Princess Charlotte, who on several occasions took part with her mother in opposition to his wishes. This led to some very remarkable transactions. Determined that she should be more immediately under his own eye, in the year 1814, on the 12th of July, the Prince Regent visited Warwick House, and informed the Princess Charlotte that he was come to dismiss all her household, and that she must immediately take up her residence in Carlton House, and from thence go to Cranbourn Lodge; and that five ladies, whom he named, amongst whom were the Countess Dowager of Rosslyn, and the Countess of Ilchester, were in the next room in readiness to wait upon her. After some expostulation on the part of the Princess Charlotte, the Prince remaining firm and resolute, she appeared to acquiesce in his determination; but pleading a wish to retire for a moment, to compose herself before she was introduced to the ladies, she was permitted to do so; and whilst the Prince was engaged in close conversation with Miss Knight, a lady of the Princess Charlotte’s household, she, in an agony of despair, privately left Warwick House, and throwing herself into a hackney coach, in Cockspur-street, drove to Connaught House, the residence of her mother. Here she found that the Princess of Wales was gone to Blackheath. She despatched a servant to meet her; and threw herself on a bed, exclaiming, “I would rather earn my bread, and live upon five shillings a-week, than live the life I do.” Before the Princess of Wales arrived, the Archbishop of Canterbury went to Connaught Place, to fetch the Princess Charlotte away; but Sicard, a faithful servant of the Princess, refused to admit him.

As soon as the discovery of the flight of the Princess Charlotte was made known to the Prince Regent, he sent for the ministers, and a council was held at the Foreign Office, and also at Carlton House. The Archbishop of Canterbury not succeeding in the object of his mission to Connaught House, the Duke of York was afterwards sent with a written message from the Prince, containing her father’s commands to bring her to Carlton House.

On the arrival of the Princess of Wales from Blackheath, she drove immediately to the Parliament House, and eagerly inquired for Mr. Whitbread, who was absent; she then inquired for Earl Grey, who was not in town; and, disappointed, she hastened to her own house in Connaught-place, and had an affecting interview with her daughter, with whom she continued till three o’clock in the morning. Soon after this time the Princess Charlotte was conveyed, by the Duke of York, to Carlton House; having been previously informed by Mr. Brougham (who had been sent for by the Princess of Wales), that by the laws of the land, she must obey her father’s commands. Period.

So, aside from that, Princess Charlotte, how’d you enjoy the fete?

Originally published 7/21/10

A TOUR GUIDE IN ENGLAND: DAY 2 – PART 3

After our visit to the National Portrait Gallery, Diane and I once more decided to wander aimlessly through our favourite City. We soon came across Godwin’s Court, above, located off of St. Martin’s Lane. Built around 1630, it was originally called Fisher’s Alley and lately, it stood in as Knockturn Alley in the Harry Potter films. Coincidentally, Cecil Court, where Diane and I visited Mark Sullivan Antiques earlier in the day, stood in for Daigon Alley in the films, as well. 
But Godwin’s Court is not a film set, it exists as you see it above day in and day out, which is what I love about London. There are pockets of centuries old history to be found almost around every corner, if one knows where to look. See the sign below.
Above is Seven Dials, once one of the worst areas of London and a true rookery and one that Dickens was familiar with. Seven streets intersect here, warehouses abounded and many of the taverns had interconnecting basements through which thieves and ne’er do wells could escape the clutches of the law, such as it was in the 18th and early 19th centuries. 
Above and below, further peeks into the City’s 18th century past. 
After a while, we found ourselves in Charing Cross Road and in the same block as the few remaining antiquarian and second hand bookshops that survive here. When writing blog posts, I often forget that  people I do not know, people who are younger than myself and people who haven’t been to London may be reading my posts. I assume that others know as much about the things I write about as I do, and so I often forget to include bits of history or back stories to the places I feature. I do not want to do that here. This I must tell you – if you haven’t read a book called 84 Charing Cross Road, you must rectify that immediately. Set just after WWII, the book covers the relationship in letters between a bookseller in London and a customer in New York who places requests for books via mail. There is also a movie of the same title starring Anthony Hopkins and Ann Bancroft which you are perfectly free to watch, but I urge you to read the book first and see the film afterwards, rather than watching it  instead of reading the book. 
After a good browse, during which I found but a single title and that for my mate Ian Fletcher, rather than for myself, we continued our stroll. 
The entrance to The Ivy restaurant above and the stage door of the St. Martins Theatre, below. 
Neither of us having seen The Mousetrap before, Diane and I decided to take in a performance and it was a hoot – a murder mystery set in an isolated English country house sometime in the 1940’s, Agatha Christie’s Mousetrap is the longest running play in history. Afterwards, we returned to our hotel for dinner and indulged in ribeye steaks, chips and pinot noir. 
The perfect end to a truly perfect day. 
Day Three Coming Soon!

ONCE AGAIN WEDNESDAY – Mr. Phillips's Auction Offices – Part Two

As we have seen in the previous post on this topic,  Phillips’s royal connections were impressive, but one of the Phillips auctions that has gone into the annals of London social history is that of the contents of Gore House and the belongings of its occupants, Lady Blessington (at right) and Count D’Orsay. The Times of Monday May 7,1849 tells the story. On page sixteen at the head of the fourth column are two advertisements, in the first of which Mr. Phillips of 73 New Bond Street offers for sale by auction ‘ the improved lease of the capital mansion ‘ known as Gore House’ (a full description of the property follows); in the second ‘Mr. Phillips begs ‘to announce that he is honoured with instructions from the Right Hon. the Countess of Blessington (retiring to the continent) to submit to ‘ sale by auction, this day May 7, and 12 subsequent days, at 1 precisely each day, the splendid ‘ Furniture, costly jewels, and recherche Property ‘ contained in the above mansion,’ and so forth, and so forth, to the extent of some eighteen or twenty lines.

During the three days prior to the sale ‘twenty ‘thousand persons’ are said to have visited the house; the estimate seems large. Thackeray wrote Mrs. Brookfield that he had ‘just come away from a dismal sight; Gore House ‘full of snobs looking at the furniture.’ There were present a number of ‘odious bombazine ‘ women’ whom he particularly hated. Also brutes who kept their hats on in the kind old drawingroom ; ‘ I longed to knock some of them off, and ‘say, ” Sir, be civil in a lady’s room.”‘ A French valet who had been left in charge, and with whom Thackeray talked a little, saw tears in the great novelist’s eyes. Thackeray confessed to Mrs. Brookfield that his heart so melted toward the poor man that he had to give him a pound; the heart in question was always melting, and the purse was invariably affected.

In his Literary Life and Correspondence of the Countess of Blessington, Richard Robert Madden, a close friend of the Count and Countess, provides the following description of the sale:

In April, 1849, the clamours and importunate demands of Lady Blessington’s creditors harassed her, and made it evident that an inevitable crash was coming. She had given bills to her bankers, and her bond likewise, for various advances, in anticipation of her jointure, to an amount approaching to £1500. Immediately after the sale, the bankers acknowledged having received from Mr. Phillips, the auctioneer, by her order, the sum of £1500, leaving a balance only, in their hands, to her credit, of £11. She had the necessity of renewing bills frequently as they became due, and on the 24th of April, 1849, she had to renew a bill of hers, to a Mr. M , for a very large amount, which would fall due on the 30th of the following month of May; four days only before ” the great debt of all debts” was to be paid by her.

In the spring of 1849, the long-menaced break-up of the establishment of Gore House took  place.  Numerous creditors, bill discounters, money lenders, jewellers, lace venders, tax collectors, gas company agents, all persons having claims to urge, pressed them at this period simultaneously. An execution for a debt of £4000 was at length put in by a house largely engaged in the silk, lace, India shawls and fancy jewellery business. Some arrangements were made, a life insurance was effected, but it became necessary to determine on a sale of the whole of the effects for the interest of all the creditors. Several of the friends of Lady Blessington urged on her pecuniary assistance, which would have prevented the necessity of breaking up the establishment. But she declined all offers of this kind. The fact was, that Lady Blessington was sick at heart, worn down with cares and anxieties, wearied out.

In the spring of 1849, the long-menaced break-up of the establishment of Gore House took place. Numerous creditors, bill discounters, money lenders, jewellers, lace venders, tax collectors, gas company agents, all persons having claims to urge, pressed them at this period simultaneously. An execution for a debt of £4000 was at length put in by a house largely engaged in the silk, lace, India shawls and fancy jewellery business. Some arrangements were made, a life insurance was effected, but it became necessary to determine on a sale of the whole of the effects for the interest of all the creditors. Several of the friends of Lady Blessington urged on her pecuniary assistance, which would have prevented the necessity of breaking up the establishment. But she declined all offers of this kind. The fact was, that Lady Blessington was sick at heart, worn down with cares and anxieties, wearied out.

For about two years previous to the break-up at Gore House, Lady Blessington lived in the constant apprehension of executions being put in, and unceasing precautions in the admission of persons had to be taken both at the outer gate and hall door entrance. For a considerable period too, Count D’Orsay had been in continual danger of arrest, and was obliged to confine himself to the house and grounds, except on Sundays, and in the dusk of the evening on other days. All those precautions were, however, at length baffled by the ingenuity of a sheriff’s officer, who effected an entrance in a disguise, the ludicrousness of which had some of the characteristics of farce, which contrasted strangely and painfully with the denouement of a very serious drama.

Lady Blessington was no sooner informed, by a confidential servant, of the fact of the entrance of a sheriff’s officer, and an execution being laid on her property, than she immediately desired the messenger to proceed to the Count’s room, and tell him that he must immediately prepare to leave England, as there would be no safety for him, once the fact was known of the execution having been levied. The Count was at first incredulous—bah ! after bah ! followed each sentence of the account given him of the entrance of the sheriff’s officer. At length, after seeing Lady Blessington, the necessity for his immediate departure became apparent. The following morning, with a single portmanteau, attended by his valet, he set out for Paris, and thus ended the London life of Count D’Orsay.

The public sale of the precious articles of a boudoir, the bijouterie and beautiful objects of art of the salons of a lady of fashion, awakens many reminiscences identified with the vicissitudes in the fortunes of former owners, and the fate of those to whom these precious things belonged. Lady
Blessington, in her ” Idler in France,” alludes to the influence of such lugubrious feelings, when she went the round of the curiosity shops on the Quai D’Orsay, and made a purchase of an amber vase of rare beauty, said to have belonged to the Empress Josephine.

” When I see the beautiful objects collected together in these shops, I often think of their probable histories, and of those to whom they belonged. Each seems to identify itself with the former owner, and conjures up in my mind a little romance.” Vases of exquisite workmanship, chased gold etuis enriched with oriental agate and brilliants that had once probably belonged to some grandes dames of the Court: pendules of gilded bronze, one with a motto in diamonds on the back—’ vous me faites oublier les heures’—a nuptial gift: a flacon of most delicate workmanship, and other articles of bijouterie bright and beautiful as when they left the hands of the jeweller ; the gages d’amour arc scattered all around. But the givers and receivers, where are they? Mouldering in the grave, long years ago.

” Through how many hands may these objects have passed since death snatched away the persons for whom they were originally designed. And here they are, in the ignoble custody of some avaricious vender, who having obtained them at the sale of some departed amateur for less than their first cost, now expects to extort more than double the value of them. …” And so will it be when I am gone,” as Moore’s beautiful song says; the rare and beautiful bijouteries which I have collected with such pains, and looked on with such pleasure, will probably be scattered abroad, and find their restingplaces not in gilded salons, but in the dingy coffers of the wily brocanteurs, whose exorbitant demands will preclude their finding purchasers.”

The property of Lady Blessington offered for sale was thus eloquently described in the catalogue, composed by that eminent author of auctioneering advertisements, Mr. Phillips:

” Costly and elegant effects, comprising all the magnificent furniture, rare porcelain, sculpture in marble, bronzes, and an assemblage of objects of art and decoration, a casket of valuable jewellery and bijouterie, services of rich chased silver and silver gilt plate, a superbly fitted silver dressing case, collection of ancient and modern pictures, including many portraits of distinguished persons, valuable original drawings and fine engravings, framed and in the portfolio, the extensive and interesting library of books, comprising upwards of 5000 volumes, expensive table services of china and rich cut glass, and an infinity of valuable and useful effects, the property of the Right Hon. the Countess of Blessington, retiring to the Continent.”

On the 10th of May, 1849, I visited Gore House for the last time. The auction was going on. There was a large assemblage of people of fashion. Every room was thronged; the well known library saloon, in which the conversaziones took place, was crowded, but not with guests. The arm-chair in which the lady of the mansion was wont to sit, was occupied by a stout coarse gentleman of the Jewish persuasion, busily engaged in examining a marble hand extended on a book—the fingers of which were modelled from a cast of those of the absent mistress of the establishment. People as they passed through the room poked the furniture, pulled about the precious objects of art, and ornaments of various kinds, that lay on the table. And some made jests and ribald jokes on the scene they witnessed.

It was a relief to leave that room: I went into another, the dining room, where I had frequently enjoyed, ” in goodly company,” the elegant hospitality of one who was indeed a ” most kind hostess.” I saw an individual among the crowd of gazers there, who looked thoughtful and even sad. I remembered his features. I had dined with the gentleman more than once in that room. He was a humourist, a facetious man—one of the editors of “Punch,” but he had a heart, with all his customary drollery and penchant for fun and raillery. I accosted him, and said, ” We have met here under different circumstances.” Some observations were made by the gentleman, which shewed he felt how very different indeed they were. I took my leave of Mr. Albert Smith, thinking better of the class of facetious persons who are expected to amuse society on set occasions, as well as to make sport for the public at fixed periods, than ever I did before.

In another apartment, where the pictures were being sold, portraits by Lawrence, sketches by Landseer and Maclise, innumerable likenesses of Lady Blessington, by various artists ; several of the Count D’Orsay, representing him driving, riding out on horseback, sporting, and at work in his studio; his own collection of portraits of all the frequenters of note or mark in society of the Villa Belvedere, the Palazza Negrone, the Hotel Ney, Seamore Place, and Gore House, in quick succession, were brought to the hammer. One whom I had known in most of those mansions, my old friend, Dr. Quin, I met in this apartment.

This was the most signal ruin of an establishment of a person of high rank I ever witnessed. Nothing of value was saved from the wreck, with the exception of the portrait of Lady Blessington, by Chalon, and one or two other pictures. Here was a total smash, a crash on a grand scale of ruin, a compulsory sale in the house of a noble lady, a sweeping clearance of all its treasures. To the honour of Lady Blessington be it mentioned, she saved nothing, with the few exceptions I have referred to, from the wreck. She might have preserved her pictures, objects of virtu, bijouterie, etc. of considerable value; but she said all she possessed should go to her creditors.

There have been very exaggerated accounts of the produce of the sale of the effects and furniture of Lady Blessington at Gore House. I am able to state on authority, that the gross amount of the sale was £13,385, and the net sum realised was £11,985 4s. When it is considered that the furniture of this splendid mansion was of the most costly description, that the effects comprised a very valuable library consisting of several thousand volumes, bijouterie, ormolu candelabras and chandeliers, porcelain and china ornaments, vases of exquisite workmanship, a number of pictures by first-rate modern artists, the amount produced by the sale will appear by no means large.

The portrait of Lady Blessington, by Lawrence, which cost originally only £80, I saw sold for £336. It was purchased for the Marquis of Hertford. The portrait of Lord Blessington, by the same artist, was purchased by Mr. Fuller for £68 5s. Landseer’s celebrated picture of a spaniel sold for £150 10s. Landseer’s sketch of Miss Power was sold for £57 10s. Lawrence’s pictures of Mrs. Inchbald were sold for £4 8 6s.

The admirable portrait of the Duke of Wellington, by Count D’Orsay, was purchased for £189, for the Marquis of Hertford. This picture was D’Orsay’s chef-d’œuvre. The Duke, I was informed by the Count, spoke of this portrait as the one he would wish to be remembered by in future years. He used frequently, when it was in progress, to come of a morning, in full dress, to Gore House, to give the artist a sitting. If there was a crease or a fold in any part of the dress which he did not like, he would insist on its being altered. To use D’Orsay’s words, the Duke was so hard to be pleased, i
t was most difficult to make a good portrait of him. When he consented to have any thing done for him, he would have it done in the best way possible.

The sale of the pictures, plate, and jewels did not a little towards cancelling Lady Blessington’s debts. Her portrait by Lawrence and that of Wellington by D’Orsay were bought by the Marquis of Hertford and may be viewed by the curious, the one in the Wallace Collection, the other in the National Portrait Gallery. Everything was scattered and the house was put for a time to inglorious uses, being turned into a restaurant run by famed chef, Soyer, during the Great Exhibition of 1851. Later it was entirely swept away. Now the Albert Memorial Hall occupies a part of the site.

A TOUR GUIDE IN ENGLAND: DAY TWO – PART ONE

Diane Gaston and I began our first full day in London with a gentle stroll through the area around our hotel. Walking London, with no destination in mind, is a favourite pastime of mine, as one never knows just what one might see. 
Can you hear me now?
Interesting rear elevations and roofs of buildings, above. 
Would love to see what’s in that domed turret room, wouldn’t you?
Yes, of course I thought of the Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Westminster Abbey
This Ben needs no introduction.
Too bad it was so early in the day and this pub was still closed. 
Will have to return and have a poke about. 
“Look, Diane, Cockpit Steps. Let’s take them and see where they lead.”
They led us to Birdcage Walk!
We backed up a few steps so that I could take a look at Queen Anne’s Gate. In his diaries, James Lees-Milne relates that he and a friend were walking here just after a bomb had been dropped on the nearby Guard’s Chapel during WWII. Miraculously, all the houses in the Gate survived unscathed except for most windows. What’s the significance of Number 36? Until 2004, it was the headquarters for the National Trust but has been bought and renovated more recently. Read about it here
Back in Birdcage Walk, we saw the Chapel James Lees-Milne had written about, which took a direct hit from that bomb that shattered windows in Queen Anne’s Gate. The bomb hit on a Sunday. During church services. 141 people, including the Chaplain, were killed. Heartbreaking. 
Before long, we’d arrived at the Palace, our home away from home, where there was a large crowd gathered. Something must be going on, thought I. I wonder what it is?
“Excuse me, officer, but can you tell me what’s going on?”
Honest to God, the cop looked at me like I had two heads and said, “Changing of the Guard, madam.”
More of Day Two coming soon!