Victoria Hinshaw – Page 48 – Number One London

A Funny Thing Happened at Apsley House

Honestly, you wouldn’t think that two grown, American women with quasi scholastic backgrounds could have such fun at Apsley House. Tell nearly anyone in the general population that you’re going to Apsley House, or The Wellington Museum, and they’ll begin to yawn – or give you odd looks. As did the cab driver who took us to the National Army Museum. “None of my business,” he said,”but do you mind telling me what your interest in the place is?” “The Duke of Wellington,” Victoria informed him. “Aha,” he said, apparently clueless, as he gave us odd looks in the rearview mirror.

Tell people that your visits to Apsley House have provided you with several good belly laughs and they’ll think you’re mad – it’s not the sort of place one automatically equates with hilarity. I’ve already shared some of these incidents in a previous post. During our last visit, Victoria and I had another funny experience, however this time it was more of the “odd” funny kind, rather than the belly laugh type.

Funnily enough, it was again in the Waterloo Gallery where this incident happened. (What’s up with that room?!) I was gazing out one of the windows that looks out over Hyde Park Gate, Rotten Row and the paved road in the Park. Then, I looked down and spied flowers. Standing on tip toe, I peered down to discover that they were pink roses, growing on bushes that stood in a narrow side yard of the House. I pointed them out to Victoria and later, in an off-hand manner, happened to mention to the docent that the Duke certainly had beautiful roses in his garden.

Well! You would have thought I’d said, “I’ve been sleeping with your husband for the past three years.” Or something equally as shocking. I cannot convey to you the outrage/offense/dismay, almost horror, my innocent remark about the rose garden occasioned.

“No, no,” the docent was quick to argue, “the Duke has no roses in his garden. Those roses are planted in Hyde Park not at Apsley House.”

Victoria and I glanced at one another. The docent’s adamant denials were decidedly odd. The roses were definitely not planted in Hyde Park. See the photo below – it’s dated, but the arrangement of the House, the Park and the Gate are unchanged today. Apsley House is at the right in the photo. The back of the side garden fronts the paved road of the Park. There’s no room at that location in the Park to plant roses.

“But the roses are right there, through that window,” I said, “you just need to look down to see them. They’re in this garden.”

“No, they’re not. They’re planted in Hyde Park!”

Hhhhmm . . . . I glanced around expecting to see White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland. Or perhaps Nurse Ratched. I decided to let the matter drop. You betcha. Never let it be said that I don’t know when to beat a retreat. Victoria and I sidled our way into the next room as un-obviously as we could and then began to whisper furiously to one another.

“What’s up with that? She’s telling me that I didn’t see with my own eyes what I just saw with my own eyes and expecting me not to argue the point.”

“I don’t know . . . that was the oddest reaction.”

“You saw the roses, right?”

“Yes! They’re right there, in the the side garden, big as day! In this garden. Not in the Park.”

“What’s up with that?”

“That was so strange . . . . “

“Listen, when we’re done here, we’re going around to that side of the house to see what’s there, okay?”

“Definitely! Even though I already know those roses are in this garden.”

Hhhhhhmmmm . . . so, of course, when we were leaving, Victoria and I hotfooted it over to the side of the House. And this is what we saw . . . .

And this . . . . .

as well as this . . . . .

What’s up with that?

Does the landlord forbid his tenants from growing roses on the property? Would the Duke of Wellington be breaking the lease and chancing eviction by growing roses?

Was one of the Dukes of Wellington once convicted of grievious rose abuse and thus all future Dukes of Wellington were subsequently prohibited from ever owning a rose again, on pain of incarceration?

Are they really contraband/prohibited/stolen/poisonous roses that are illegal to possess in one’s garden?

Surely it couldn’t be that this docent had never been to the west side of Apsley House and so was simply mistaken about the topography there?

Why were the docents’ denials so adamant, as if I’d accused the Duke of keeping a bevvy of under-aged harem girls out there in his garden instead of pink roses?

Honestly, what’s up with that?

Are You Stumped At This Victorian Term?

Victoria here…to tell you more about some of the wonderful sights Kristine and I saw on our recent visit to London. I had arrived a couple of days before Kristine and Brooke came, so I had the opportunity to do research at several libraries (see my recent posts). On Saturday morning, June 12, while I waited for the new arrivals, I took in several of the Bloomsbury gardens that participated in the London Open Squares Weekend.

I was particuarly intrested in gardens usually closed to the public and used only by the residents of the squares who have keys. You know the deal — they more restricted the use, the more I wanted to see it!

Bedford Square was one of those usually closed; I headed there first.

Much of the square is devoted to a lawn with graceful old trees. But as I followed two British ladies to show our tickets, one of them asked the official, “What is a Victorian stumpery?” For indeed the booklet that accompanied the weekend had extolled the excellence of Bedford Square’s Victorian Stumpery. And I was stumped. So I asked if I could come along with them to find the head gardener.

The three of us set off, laughing together at our mutual inability to understand the term though all of us had gardened for many years, as well as having visited scads of gardens, many world famous.

Here is the description: “Built between 1775 and 1786, Bedford Square is the best and most complete Georgian square in London. The elegant surrounding buildings, now mainly offices, were once fashionable town houses and have distinctive Coade-stone entrances.

The large oval garden at the centre is surrounded by iron railings and screened by encircling shrubberies and large plane trees. The garden has benefited recently from a programme of works with new benches and metal edging installed alongside the newly re-surfaced path that circumnavigates the whole garden. Newly planted areas of interest include a Victorian stumpery and pocket planting of a large variety of herbaceous plants. “

At last we reached the area and the gardener explained: when huge old trees were cut down, the stump was dug out, turned upside down and used as a planter. The three of us ladies looked at each other and burst into laughter. We were all thinking the same thing: who would do this incredibly difficult task? Certainly none of our husbands! This was a job that would definitely require a staff!! So probably not seen much these days.

But the effect is charming and the idea sound if you are either very strong or have lots of help. Because of all the shade, most of the plants were feathery ferns and other greenery. The plantings are lovely and replicate a deep old forest. One almost expects either some elves to appear — or Robin Hood himself.

Almost all the planting in Bedford Square has to be shade-friendly. And much of it will remain green in the winter, showing lovely red berries — which also brings birds. One of the delights of the London Squares, whether closed or open to the public is the sound of birds which seems to make the constant traffic sounds retreat far away.

Another interesting aspect of Bedford Square is the beauty of surrounding houses, just about as they were constructed in the late 18th century, though most are offices today, not homes, as is true of so many formerly perfect residential areas of central London. Boo hoo.

Here is one of the four houses in the center of each row. As you can see from the arched entryways, it was once two houses, with particularly lovely windows overlooking the square.

The mutual effect of the houses looking inward at the greenery and the effect of looking out of the square at the beautiful symmetry of the houses is marvelous. A triumph of urban architecture and gracious living.

The entrances of the darker brick houses are surrounded by white and crowned by a head in Coade-stone? Don’t know what that is? We’ll tell you about it one of these days.

Many of the houses around Bedford Square boast blue plaques indicating that a person of historical significance one lived here. Actually, almost all of them shoud be included in the list. Prime Ministers, scientists and artists all called the square home at one time.

I think I could bear living here. How about you? After all, I have to keep an eye on that Victorian Stumpery.

Sunday in the Park – Part Two

Victoria here, continuing with a report on our Sunday, June 13, as we tried to get to as many open square gardens as we could. We made a small detour on our trek from Markham Square to the next garden on our agenda in Belgravia. While we were walking up King’s Road in Chelsea, we came across a Jo Malone shop. Kristine is a devotee of their products and I had my introduction, so we had a brief shopping opportunity sandwiched among our gardens. I was amused by their shades with similar arrangements to their windows.

Properly lotioned and perfumed, we walked on to Eaton Square, that fabled location of Upstairs, Downstairs, exteriors filmed at 65 Eaton Place, appearing as 165 Eaton Place (which does not exist). The houses of Belgravia are beautiful, and almost entirely of this same or similar design of white stucco with balconies outside the principle floor. The neighborhood was developed on property owned by the Grosvenor family (Dukes of Westminster) in the 1820’s. It remains a posh district, though most of the houses are either embassies, offices and/or apartments. I could settle for one of the apartments, I think.

Here is the description from the Open Squares Weekend booklet: “Eaton Square is one of London’s premier addresses. Together with Belgrave Square, layout was started in 1826 by Thomas Cubitt (1788–1855) for the Grosvenor Estate. The gardens were named after Eaton Hall in Cheshire, home of the landowners, the Dukes of Westminster.”

One of the six separate squares was welcoming guests and we found it charming and beautifully appointed.

Planters, pools, lawns, many trees and flower borders all add to the comfortable effect.

I love contrasts, such as these plants show. Of course I don’t know their names, but the yellow-green against the orange and dark green is perfect.

Here a bower of clematis vines shade a bench. Perfect for an afternoon settling in with a good book. I would include a couple of pillows in my kit.

Would it be an English garden without roses? I particularly like these blush-tone beauties — again a perfect contrast to the dark greenery.

They had a Punch and Judy show for the special weekend visitors.

These children were more interested in photographing flowers and insects, though the butterflies seemed preoccupied.

The tree above is usually called a Plane Tree. You find these all over London (and many other European cities) because they seem to thrive on the polluted air in urban areas. In fact, one gardener told me that they had done even better when the air was filled with coal dust in the early 20th C. Plane trees are closely related to the North American Sycamore, aka Buttonwood.

Above, more views of Eaton Square.

Our next stop was Cadogan Place Gardens, again named after a prominent family in 18th C. London.
Here is the description: At the end of the 18th century this garden was originally known as the London Botanic Garden.

The severe storm in 1987 resulted in the loss of many large trees, which have now been replaced with a variety of ornamental trees, opening up the garden. The 300-year-old mulberry trees on the south lawn are thought to have been grown for the silk trade; an interesting mixed border is planted opposite the mulberries. On the east side, a walk running the length of the garden is being developed for spring interest, along with a fern garden.

Near the tennis courts, a water garden is partially hidden by black bamboo and willows, while the centre south garden displays the Hans Sloane Garden, created for the 2005 Chelsea Flower Show. William Wilberforce (1759-1833), campaigner for the abolition of slavery lived at 44 Cadogan Place.

A few flowers in Cadogan Gardens, above and right. The Cadogan name is pronounced, according to the official taking our tickets: Kuh-DUG-un.

Our next stop, and let me tell you, we were dragging by this time, was Belgrave Square, also part of the Grosvenor estate development of the 1820’s. Here is the description: A 4.5-acre private garden designed by George Basevi, first planted by Thomas Cubitt in 1826 and now restored to its 1867 layout. The latest element in this work has been the re-instatement in 2008 of the original viewing mound in the centre of the garden.

There are many trees, including large plane trees dating from the original plantings, and pergolas covered with wisteria and roses. The square also features a quiet garden, a play area for children and a tennis court.

The statuary around the garden reflects the international nature of the square and offers a rare chance to see a collection of modern figurative work. A 1998 statue of Sir Robert Grosvenor by Jonathan Wylder at the corner of Wilton Crescent features the quote from John Ruskin: ‘When we build, let us think we build for ever’.

The Belgrave Square garden committee seeks to balance the maintenance of the garden’s historic character with the needs and expectations of modern users and the preservation of the square for the future. The result is a garden which offers peace and tranquillity in a busy city and also provides a fun play space for local children.

By this time, I was yearning for a bench to rest my weary — well, which were in worse shape? My aching feet? My tired legs? Or my poor back? And it was almost five o’clock when the gardens would be locked up again. So we staggered into Wilton Crescent and flopped down on the nearest bench.

Wilton Crescent is surrounded by more of tho
se stately white stucco houses. If you look closely at the photo, you will see one of the metal sculptures of a tree that decorate the garden.

Here is the description: Wilton Crescent was an addition by Thomas Cundy, the Grosvenor Estate surveyor, to the original 1821 Wyatt plan for Belgravia. The garden was highly commended in the 2009 London Gardens Society Competition.

Right is another of the sculptured trees which make a dramatic contrast to the green shrubbery and must be quite pretty in winter too. We liked the neighborhood. And it was just a very short walk to our next adventure.

Here is the doorway of one of the houses we picked out as our possible pied-a-terre in London. But on second thought, that topiary on the left is a little crooked. Guess I’ll have to keep looking. But I’ll stay in this neighborhood so my local pub will be….

The Grenadier! Yes, our long and winding road through London gardens brought us through this little mews to the pub and the comfort of a nice chair and a cool brew. We were a bit early for our meeting with Carrie Bebris and her dad Jerry, so we sat around and talked to other patrons. Kristine got a chance to practice her French accents with a pair of travelers from Switzerland.

The sentry box seems to be only a storage shed, decorative as it is. It was too light to look for the ghosts. As if we had the energy left to find them! They never did make an appearance that evening, probably realizing we would only ask them for foot massages and back rubs.

Carrie and Vicky shared a hug in one of the two tiny dining rooms. Carrie and her dad Jerry were finishing up her research trip to Lyme Regis, Bath and environs with a couple of days in London. Carrie, author of the Mr. and Mrs. Darcy mystery series, is working on her next novel in which the Darcys will meet up with Captain and Mrs. Wentworth, of Persuasion fame.

Above, Carrie Bebris and her dad Jerry Morris

We were lucky to s
ecure a table since The Grenadier was packed. Not that it takes very many people to fill its two tiny dining rooms and taproom. We all four enjoyed the Sunday Roast dinner — beef with potatoes, bed and Yorkshire pudding. Yum!

Since the Grenadier is located quite close to the barracks where some of the Duke of Wellington’s troops were housed, it used to be filled with redcoats…but nary a one was there Sunday night. Above is the mounting block used by the Duke of Wellington after his visits to The Grenadier.

After dinner, we searched for the ghosts, but they eluded us.

There were lots of pretty flowers. But no ghosts.

We said good-by at the tube stop at Hyde Park Corner. Yes, that is Apsley House in the distance at the far right. Carrie and Jerry had tickets for a play at the Globe theatre the next night. Kristine and I had a day of shopping planned.

And lots more walking!

Sunday in the Park….London Style, Part One

Victoria here, with an account of our busy Sunday, June 13. London Open Squares Weekend was a surprise to us, discovered only a couple of days before we left for London, but it was a great opportunity to supplement our Artie Trail.

Kristine and I started our Sunday at the Queen’s Gallery, attached to Buckingham Palace where we visited the “Victoria and Albert in Love” exhibition that will take several blogs to describe in detail, but of course, no pictures allowed inside.

After we had our fill of the wonderful exhibit, we walked around Buckingham Palace just for the fun of it. Changing of the Guard was long over and the crowds small.

We passed the Diplomatic Entrance where one enters for the tour of the Palace later in the summer while the Royal Family are in Balmoral. I was lucky enough to go through the palace a few years ago. Amazing decoration, furniture and enough paintings to fill several huge museums. Truly masterpieces collected throughout the centuries.

You know what this is!

And this.

A lonely sentinel stands guard at the empty palace. The Royal Family were in Windsor for the Ascot Races.

Just in case someone wonders to whom this place belongs, this coat of arms should tell the story.

And this is a very bad picture of the memorial to Queen Victoria that stands in front of the Palace.

Here’s a better picture I found on a tourist site. It’s a different side.

A view of St. James Park from the Palace frontage as we walked to find a taxi to the next item on our agenda.

The National Army Museum stands just south of the Chelsea Hospital in Royal Hospital Road. This museum is devoted to the history of the Army. The larger Imperial War Museum in Lambeth Road (housed in the former Bedlam) has even more displays covering all the military.

To get us in the mood for the rest of the day in the Open Squares gardens, I just had to photograph some of the lovely geraniums outside the museum.

At right is the model of the Waterloo Battlefield constructed by Captain William Siborne which now sits in the Army Museum. It’s huge and has severa
l accompanying narratives to explain the sequence of action. Siborne worked on it for many years and his story is a fascinating one. But he made the mistake of crossing the Duke of Wellington by trying to reconstruct the battle logically when, the Duke said, it was not possible. Wellington is quoted as saying there was “no hope of ever seeing an account of all its details which shall be true.”

Many of the displays at the Army Museum show uniforms, medals, weapons, surgical instruments and camp equipment actually used at Waterloo. Kristine has already described the saw used to amputate Lord Uxbridge’s leg (he was later named Marquess of Anglesey) and the bloody glove the surgeon wore. On exhibit is the Duke of Wellington’s barometer that survived the Peninsular Wars and Waterloo. There’s more of the same…

One painting showed the army followers, sutlers selling provisions, the cattle driven along in its wake, and the many camp-followers. The label read, “Soldiers of both armies concentrated on trying to keep warm, dry, healthy and fed.”

When we had spent sufficient time in the gift/book shop and cafe at the museum, we set out to spend a few hours overcoming the horrors of war by looking at some gardens. One was just a few blocks from the museum in Chelsea.

Here is the descripton of Markham Square, usually open only to residents, from the Open Squares booklet: “The building of the original square was begun in 1836 on the site of the old orchard of Box Farm, owned by the Markham family who had had common rights since the ‘29th year of Elizabeth’. In 1935 the garden was laid out as a cherry orchard in celebration of the Silver Jubilee of George V.

After WW2, the square was redesigned in the style of a private country garden by the head gardener at the Royal Hospital. The garden is notable for its light, open aspects and unusual trees, none of which has been allowed to obscure the colourful borders.”

All above photographed at Markham Square.

Almost across King’s Road was Wellington Square, where Kristine is currently house-hunting.

On this note of “Pretty in Pink” we moved on to Belgravia and our dinner with Carrie Bebris. See Part Two. But just so you don’t think we were worn out yet, here’s a little picture of Victoria and Kristine exactly as we looked that day.

Too bad the artist* was unable to complete the garden vista on the right as he painted us consulting the local maps. And we didn’t even get our hems dusty!

*Sir Thomas Lawrence, who else?

Do You Know About The National Trust and the Royal Oak Society?

Victoria here…a loyal member of the Royal Oak Society for quite a few years. This is the U.S. organization that supports the National Trust in Britain. If you live in a major U.S. city, or visit one from time to time, you might find that one of the Royal Oak’s lectures could be on your agenda.

They bring historians, decorators, architectural critics and gardeners to the U.S. for programs in New York City, and several other cities, usually chosen from Boston, Philadelphia, Washington, D. C., Chicago, and Los Angeles. Sometimes Miami, Charleston, San Francisco and others. The programs I have attended are marvelous.

To learn more about the Royal Oak, click here. There are many other worthwhile activities, too. But the very best thing is that you are part of the British National Trust and you are admitted free to all NT properties, not to mention getting a discount at their shops.

Here is the connection to the NT. As you probably know if you are an Anglophile, the National Trust is a fantastic organization that works to protect the land and the heritage of Great Britain. I have this dream that someday I will get to all of the places run by the National Trust, particularly the stately homes.

While the NT is an exceptionally well run professional organization, with a wonderful list of publications, most of the guards/guides in the buildings are volunteers, well-trained, but nevertheless, volunteers. I have heard some wonderful stories from these worthy souls about their experiences — and most of them are only too glad to chat with guests, especially when they find out you are a member of the Royal Oak — then you are really someone special.

One day, a pal and I were at Sudbury Hall in Derbyshire which was used for many of the interior shots of Pemberley in the 1995 Colin Firth version of Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. There was a large display in the stable of costumes from the film. My friend and I walked slowly through the handsome rooms, reading about them in the guidebook and listening to the volunteer guides.

We reached a large bedchamber decorated in red satin. I turned to my pal and said, “Oh, this is the room where Darcy changed his coat!”

Well, the poor gentleman in charge of that room had heard that remark one too many times. “Madam!” he sputtered. “This is not only the room where Darcy (here his voice dripped with exasperation) changed his coat. THIS was the bedchamber of Queen Adelaide after her husband died. She lived in this house for part of her life and this was her room.”
He meant the wife of William IV who had a rather sad widowhood, not really welcomed to court by Queen Victoria’s Mama, who wished Adelalide far, far away to reduce her possible influence on the young Queen.

My friend and I tried not to giggle as we assured the gentleman that we appreciated his information and felt ourselves quite well corrected in our views. This was a gentleman who took his history seriously, not to be toyed with by movie fans.

Another funny story I heard from an NT volunteer guide was a Saltram House. She had been on duty during the filming of the Emma Thompson film of Jane Austen’s Sense and Sensibility. Her specific assignment was to protect the Chippendale sofas in the Saloon. They are too large and fragile to be moved, so one volunteer was needed at each of the pair to keep the technicians from draping their dirty cables and cords over the delicate satin upholstery. Every day. In addition, the guide told us that during the filming, the beautiful carpeting was rolled up and replaced temporarily by a painted floor cloth, which looks exactly the same in the film. Rolling cameras and all the crew could tramp around on the floor cloth to their heart’s content.

One of my favorite parts of being a Royal Oak/NT member is getting the annual guidebook to their properties and their quarterly newsletters, just packed with information I use to plan my next visits.

So hat’s off to the NT and Royal Oak — and everyone else who works so hard to keep Britain’s cultural history and precious unspoiled land available to all of us! Huzzah!!

Knole, Kent (left)

Bodiam Castle, Kent (below)