The Death of Wellington – Long Live the Duke

An image of the arms of the Dukes of Wellington, shamelessly stolen from author Lesley-Anne McLeod‘s blog.
Thanks, Lesley-Anne!

On 14 September 1852 Field Marshal Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington, KG, KP, GCB, GCH, PC, FRS died both quite suddenly and peacefully at his rooms at Walmer Castle, Kent. It is hardly necessary for me to take up further room on this blog in extolling the myriad virtues, accomplishments and glories attached to the first Duke. There are a wealth of stories about his funeral, the largest ever held in London until that held for Princess Diana, in books, on the web, etc. Rather, I thought it might be interesting instead to turn our attention on this day to the man who became the second Duke upon his father’s death.

Lt.-General Arthur Richard Wellesley, 2nd Duke of Wellington KG PC (3 February 1807 – 13 August 1884), was the eldest son of the 1st Duke of Wellington and Kitty Pakenham. In 1853 he was made a Privy Councillor and a Knight of the Garter in 1858 and in 1863 he inherited the Irish title of Earl of Mornington from his cousin. In 1839 he had married Lady Elizabeth Hay, but they had no children, so at his death he was succeeded in his titles by his nephew, Henry.

Arthur was 45 years of age when his father died and while the Duke had been proud of both Arthur and his younger son, Charles, they never enjoyed what might be remotely called a warm family bond. The 2nd Duke was known to have said that his father often treated himself and his younger brother as “duffers.” There are many anecdotes that back up this fact, but I’ll use the following as being illustrative of the coolness between father and son(s).  When the 2nd Duke was still Lord Douro, he was in the Rifle Brigade and stationed at Dover, in which neighborhood his father also resided, at Walmer Castle, as Lord of the Cinque Ports. It was the Duke’s habit to invite all the officers quartered in the town to dinner at the Castle. On one particular occassion, the Duke invited every officer on the spot, with the exception of his son, prompting him to send his father the following note: “The Marquis of Douro presents his compliments to F.M. the Duke of Wellington, K.G., and would be glad to know why, alone among the officers of his regiment, he has not been invited to dinner at Walmer Castle.” The Duke replied by return of post: “F.M. the Duke of Wellington, K.G., presents his compliments to the Marquis of Douro, and begs to inform him that the reason why he was never invited to dine at Walmer Castle is that he never called there.”


Elizabeth, 2nd Duchess of Wellington (1820-1904) was born Lady Elizabeth Hay, a daughter of the eighth  Marquess of Tweeddale. One of her brothers was the ornithologist Viscount Walden, and another the Admiral of the Fleet Lord John Hay. She married Lord Douro in 1839 and was appointed Mistress of the Robes to Queen Victoria in 1861 by the Liberal Prime Minister Lord Palmerston, and continued in that rôle until 1868, serving through the governments of Lord Russell, Lord Derby and Benjamin Disraeli. She was again Mistress of the Robes in Disraeli’s second government, 1874 to 1880. Her husband died on 13 August 1884, and the Dowager Duchess survived him for exactly twenty years to the day, dying at Bearhill Park, Walton-on-Thames on 13 August 1904.

The second Duke of Wellington used to say to his old schoolfellow, the publisher Mr. John Murray : “I cannot write my father’s life, but I can at least see that the material is there for a biographer some day.” Accordingly, with praiseworthy diligence, he set to work and edited fourteen volumes of supplementary military despatches, and eight volumes of civil correspondence, bringing it down to the year 1832. Here, then, are thirty-four volumes, each containing, on an average, about six hundred and fifty closely printed pages—truly he were a bold man who should claim to have extracted all that is of moment from such a vast storehouse.

ln October 1882 the Duke was having trouble with his eyesight and wrote: “l avail myself of another hand kindly placed at my disposal, as l am not yet permitted to read or write. l dare say,  you will remember my sight was very indifferent when you were at Stratfield Saye. lt went on from bad to worse, until at last it became absolutely necessary that l should undergo an operation which I did a few days ago with perfect success.” The operation involved the removal of one eye, but the Duke retained his sense of humour throughout. Afterwards, the surgeon who performed the operation mentioned to the Duke that the eye would be preserved and kept for study. The Duke suggested that this might present a good opportunity for the doctor to make some extra money – by betting people that they couldn’t guess the distance between the Duke of Wellington’s eyes.

After Wellington’s death, the 2nd Duke of Wellington allowed the public to visit the principle apartments of Apsely House from 1853 onwards on written application. He made some alterations but the main rooms remained substantially intact until the 7th Duke of Wellington presented the house to the nation in 1947.

The 2nd Duke of Wellington uttered what are amongst the most poignant words in history when, upon realizing that he would soon be succeeding his illustrious father to the title, he was said to have remarked, “Imagine what it will be when the Duke of Wellington is announced, and only I walk in the room.”

MEET THE NINOTCHKA BAND

 

When I was in Bath a few months ago, I was fortunate enough to come across a violin player named Nik, who was busking outside of the Pump Room, playing a mean fiddle. Sandra Mettler and I sat on a bench, listening, for quite some time. I bought a CD off Nik and, once I’d returned home, I did a Google search and discovered that Nik is one half of the Ninotchka Band. As they describe themselves, “Ninotchka is a Gypsy, Klezmer and Irish folk duo from deepest darkest Somerset. In their performances, Nik Jovčić-Sas and Sydney Bull, take wild Gypsy dances and lighting fast Irish jigs and mix it all together with a signature infectious punk energy that has audiences stomping and hollering throughout the night. First discovered playing on the streets of Bath, they’ve now played a host of different venues and festivals including Avalon at Glastonbury 2017.”

I thought you might like to meet Ninotchka, as well, as their music is thoroughly stirring and unique. Click above to watch their video and find their CD here.

THE HORSE GUARDS OPEN HOUSE DAY

In light of our recent post on Sefton, we’re re-running this post on our visit to the Horseguards from a few years ago. 
One of the places Victoria and I were most anxious to visit on Open Houses Day in London was Horseguards. As you all know, neither Victoria nor I are strangers to Horseguards, but Open Houses Day presented a unique opportunity for us to finally see the Duke of Wellington’s office and desk, both of which are pretty much untouched since the Duke’s departure, though still used by the commanders through the years.
As you can see by the photos below, it was glorious day, so Victoria and I decided to walk to Horseguards from Trafalgar Square.

Approaching Horse Guards:  Big Ben in the Distance.

 

 Upon arrival at Horse Guards, we found that there was a bit of line to get in. Normally, we would have grumbled at the wait, but heck, when one is treated to a review and change of guards during the wait one would be an idiot to complain.

The Life Guards above, and the Blues and Royals below.

As it turned out Horse Guards was overwhelmed by the number of people who had turned out for tours of the building, so a young soldier in fatigues was handed a few sheets of historical notes and told to have at it. Thus, our tour began.

One of our first stops was the Cock pit, located below the stables.

Once our group was assembled within the confined space, our guide read from his notes, telling us about the history of cock fighting at Horse Guards – and how Wellington had allowed it to continue while serving as Commander in Chief of the Army.
“Ridiculous. Wellington would never have countenanced such a thing!” Had I just said that aloud? Apparently I had.
Our guide looked down at the notes in his hand. “But it says so right here,” he protested valiantly.
“I don’t doubt it. However I’m telling you that it’s rubbish. The Duke served as Commander in Chief of the Army from 1842 to 1852. Cock fighting had been banned in England well before that time (Cruelty to Animals Act 1835) and Wellington would not have flaunted the law, nor allowed his men to do so.”
Victoria laid a calming hand upon my arm. Oh, Lud, I thought, I have become that old woman. You know, the one who goes about correcting strangers and sticking her nose in where it don’t belong.

Eventually, we made our way upstairs.

Stairs to the first floor
Looking above
In the Floor, above: Seven Joined in One, referring to seven regiments of Household Division —
The Life Guards, Blues and Royals, Welsh Guards, Grenadier Guards, Scots Guards, Coldstream Guards, Irish Guards.
 Each regiment has its own ceremonial drum.
And then, before our very eyes was the entrance to the
Duke of Wellington’s office, wherein lies his desk.
Portrait of Queen Charlotte
Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington
 View from the Duke’s office of the forecourt and Whitehall
Once we were all in the room, our guide read from his notes and told us, “And above the door is a bust of Lord Palmerston.”
“Palmerston? That’s the Duke of Wellington,” Victoria said aloud.
“Look,” said our guide, turning his notes so that Victoria could see them, “it says Lord Palmerston.”
“I see that,” Victoria agreed, ” but I can assure you that it’s Wellington. She looked at me, “Isn’t it?”
I had decided not to say anything else on the subject after my outburst in the cock pit. After all, the majority of the people in the room with us wouldn’t know Wellington from Churchill if push came to shove. Nevermind Palmerston. Put on the spot now, I had to admit, in front of many pairs of staring eyes, that the bust was indeed that of Wellington. We moved on.
The dividing line between the parishes of St. Martin in the Fields and St. Margaret’s Westminster passes through the Horse Guards Building.
The Duke’s office fireplace, above.
 In the Duke’s Office, above and below, our fellow attendees
 The office window overlooking the parade grounds.
And last, but certainly not least, the Duke’s desk.
You can find a complete history of this desk and its origins in this article by retired Major Ian Mattison on the Waterloo 200 website. 
The plaque reads, “This table was habitually used by Field Marshal The Duke of Wellington K.G. during his tenure as Commander in Chief 1842-52. It was restored to this room by Field Marshal The Duke of Connaught, Inspector General of the Forces 1904.”
In the background, a portrait of George III
At the end of the tour, we left by a set of backstairs –

which provided a unique perspective of one of the guards on duty.

If you’d like to see Horseguards for yourself, along with many other historic sites, do think about joining one of our upcoming, London based tours. Kristine always does a Regency London walk during these tours, chock full of visits to historic sites – tour details here.

 

THE STORY OF SEFTON

SEFTON served with the British Army for 17 years from 1967 to 1984, coming to prominence when he was critically injured in the Hyde Park and Regent’s Park bombings of July 20, 1982. Eight soldiers on ceremonial duty were killed in two IRA bomb blasts. The first blast, in Hyde Park, killed two soldiers and injured 23 others and the second explosion, in Regents Park, less than two hours later killed six soldiers instantly and injured a further 24 people.

In the first incident a nail bomb in a blue Austin car was detonated as members of the Household Cavalry made their way to the changing of the guard from their barracks in Knightsbridge. Seven horses were killed or so badly maimed they had to be destroyed. Another device exploded underneath the bandstand in Regents Park as the Royal Green Jackets played music from Oliver to 120 spectators.

Regimental commander, Lt Col Andrew Parker-Bowles, ex-husband of Camilla Parker-Bowles, the current Duchess of Cornwall, raced to the scene of the first blast on foot. Arriving quickly he met a groom leading a severely wounded horse, Sefton. Blood gushed from a huge hole in the horse’s neck and Parker-Bowles instructed the groom to take off his shirt and stuff it into the wound. Unfortunately the groom had sustained his own injury in the bomb blast, a four-inch nail pierced the man’s hand. Another man sacrificed his shirt and helped staunch the blood flowing from Sefton’s neck. Sefton suffered 28 separate wounds to his body from the nail bombs. One 2 x 1 shard severed his jugular vein. Five four inch nails were implanted to half their length into his face, one spiked his back. His stifle and flanks were gored by searing shrapnel from the car. His right eye was burned and the cornea damaged. His rider, Trooper Pederson, injured too by the flying nails, when ordered to dismount, stood dazed, holding the valiant horse. Sefton underwent eight hours of surgery and became a media sensation and a household name. He was 19 years old at the time of the bombings and recovered sufficiently to return to active service and was subsequently awarded “Horse of the Year.”

Sefton pictured after making a full recovery with trooper Michael Pedersen, also injured in the attack.

Born in Ireland, Sefton joined the Army in 1967. He was 16 hands high and spent the early years of his army career as a school horse, teaching new recruits to ride.  in 1975, despite having socks and a blaze, he found his way into the Household Cavalry Mounted Regiment, which normally recruited only totally black horses. The Household Cavalry recorded that he was a horse of great courage and character. Trooper Pederson reported that Sefton responded so bravely when the bomb exploded that there was no chance of being thrown from him.

A watercolour painting done by the Duchess of Cornwall of Sefton for a 2011 exhibition War Horse: Fact and Fiction at central London’s National Army Museum.

In 1984, Sefton was retired from the Household Calvary to The Home of Rest for Horses in Speen, Bucks, and stayed there until July 9, 1993. He became incurably lame from the injuries he suffered and was put to sleep at the age of 30.

Sefton’s statue now stands at the Royal Veterinary College.

Sefton’s legacy remains through The British Horse Society Sefton Awards, set up in 1984, and there is the Sefton Equine Referral Unit, which is based at the Royal Veterinary College. Household Cavalry tradition dictates that horses’ names are re-used, which ensures that Sefton’s memory will live on.

A monument to the tragedy that killed 11 people and seven horses, injured Sefton and eight of his stablemates, was erected on the spot where the bomb went off in Hyde Park and daily the troop honors it with an eyes left and a salute with drawn swords.

The soldiers who lost their lives that day –

  • WO2 Graham Barker, 1st Battalion The Royal Green Jackets
  • Corporal Major Roy Bright, The Blues and Royals (Royal Horse Guards and 1st Dragoons)
  • Lieutenant Anthony Daly, The Blues and Royals (Royal Horse Guards and 1st Dragoons)
  • Bandsman John Heritage, 1st Battalion The Royal Green Jackets
  • Corporal Robert Livingstone, 1st Battalion The Royal Green Jackets
  • Corporal Robert McKnight, 1st Battalion The Royal Green Jackets
  • Bandsman George Mesure, 1st Battalion The Royal Green Jackets
  • Bandsman Keith Powell, 1st Battalion The Royal Green Jackets
  • Bandsman Laurence Smith, 1st Battalion The Royal Green Jackets
  • Trooper Simon Tipper, The Blues and Royals (Royal Horse Guards and 1st Dragoons)
  • Lance Corporal Jeffrey Vernon Young, The Blues and Royals (Royal Horse Guards and 1st Dragoons)

The seven horses of the Blues and Royals that were killed were:

  • Cedric
  • Epaulette
  • Falcon
  • Rochester
  • Waterford
  • Yeastvite
  • Zara

 

THE WELLINGTON CONNECTION – TENNIS

Illustrated London News, February 1, 1845

Many people may be surprised to learn that the Duke of Wellington was a keen tennis player – so much so that he had an indoor court built at Stratfield Saye, where he and Prince Albert played a few sets during Queen Victoria and Prince Albert’s visit to Stratfield Saye in 1845, which was reported in the Illustrated London News.

From A History of Stratfield Saye by the Reverend Charles Griffith, Jon Murray 1892:

“. . . On the west side of the road face of the mansion, to the right front, and This building, which is of full size, occupies the site and is built upon the old walls of Lord Rivers’ riding-school. . . At the termination of the university course of the Marquis of Douro, who was afterwards second Duke of Wellington, and of Lord Charles Wellesley, the father of the present duke, the first Duke of Wellington erected this building for the amusement of his sons. The first duke himself for some years frequently played, in the court, and his butler, Phillips, became one of the finest players in England of his day, successively beating all the best French players with whom he contended. . . ”

Tennis had been played in England since the middle ages and Henry VIII had a court at Hampton Court Palace. By the 1820s, the only London tennis court still in operation was the James Street court near the Haymarket. The members of this newly revived club invited the Duke of Wellington to join them in 1820, which invitation he gladly accepted. But other aristocratic families also partook of the sport –

From a letter written by Lady Holland, Holland House, 1st Jany., 1816 to Mrs. Creevey [in Brussels] –

“. . . According to the song, ‘London is out of town’ the country houses are overflowing. The love of tennis is come so strongly upon Lord Holland that he has persuaded me rather reluctantly to go once more to Woburn for 3 or 4 days, in order that he may play a few setts. The plea which makes me yield is that I believe exercise keeps off the gout.”

Woburn Abbey

The Sporting Magazine for February 1795 gives us the following description of the Woburn tennis courts – “THE Tennis Court and Riding House (with apartments between to dress in) forms a building 266 feet 8 inches long, and 49 feet 6 inches wide, the whole front of which is stone: The roof is a flat one, and covered with a composition of tar, chalk, etc., instead of lead. There are flues run along the walls, and under the pavement of the Tennis Court, to keep off the damps.”

Francis Russell, 5th Duke of Bedford

 

It was Francis Russell, 5th Duke of Bedford who improved Woburn Abbey, adding a Riding School and the Tennis Court, which would later quite literally be the death of him. It was while playing a game of tennis that the accident occurred which eventually proved fatal. He was struck by a ball; a lingering illness ensued, and he died on the 2nd March 1802.The editor of Horace Walpole: Lord Orford’s Letters to the Countess of Ossory, transcribes from the memoranda of Lord Ossory the following account of the death of Francis, fifth Duke of Bedford in 1802:— ‘On February 27th 1802, I went over to Woburn, hearing of the Duke of Bedford’s dangerous illness. There I found Dr. Kerr. …. The progress of the disease was not favourable, and the symptoms were very bad on Monday morning, till twelve; from that time till five or six, hopes began to revive; then they all vanished, and he was given over, and on Monday morning, March the 2d, about half-past eleven, he expired in a manner in Lord John’s arms.

“Thus died Francis, Duke of Bedford, with a sort of similarity of fate to his father, both of whom I loved with much affection and attachment.”

As lamentable as Francis’s death was, it almost had dire consequences for the beautiful Lady Georgina Gordon, who had been engaged to him. Her mother, the Duchess of Gordon, was not going to let the Dukedom of Bedford escape her, and after Lady Georgina had left off her mourning for her betrothed, she became engaged to his brother and successor, John, sixth Duke of Bedford, to whom she was married a year later. She went on to have ten children.

 

1816 Plan of Woburn Abbey – Wikipedia

 

But back to tennis . . . From Wikipedia – A plan of the house and “pleasure ground” at Woburn from Hortus Gramineus Woburnensis (1816), a book about horticultural experiments conducted at Woburn. The top is east. A: The house. The whole of the top (east) wing and the eastern end of the north and south wings have been demolished. B: Stable/service blocks. These survive and one now houses the Woburn Antiques Centre. C: The riding school and the real tennis court, which have been demolished. D: The long rectangle at the right of the southern service block is the sculpture gallery, which survives In 1816 the main entrance was on the eastern side of the house, and was reached via a grand arch between the riding school and real tennis court. After the demolition the West Hall in the centre of the West Front became the main entrance once again.

In his Arboretun et Fruticetum Britannicum: or, The Trees and Shrubs of England, Volume 2 (1838), John Claudius Loudon describes the grounds at Woburn and tells us that there is “a passage under the Cape heathery, which forms a portion of a covered way, leading from the mansion to the different objects of interest adjoining it; such as the green-house, sculpture gallery, tennis-court, Chinese dairy, plant-stoves and palm-house now erecting, and finally to the pleasureground, including the aviary, arboretum, salictum, grass-garden, American garden, etc.”

From Tennis by John Moyer Heathcote 1890, “In our own country the game was beginning to lose its popular character, although still played by the higher classes of society. Many old courts were abandoned or destroyed, and we hear of the construction of three only in the latter half of the century: the Duke of Richmond’s at Goodwood, the Duke of Bedford’s at Woburn, and the court in Tennis-court Road, Cambridge, erected in 1734, recently pulled down and replaced by the new buildings of Pembroke College.

“There is, however, no probability of the last age of this eventful history passing into mere oblivion, for the nineteenth century has witnessed a renewed and constantly increasing enthusiasm for Tennis, shown by the number of courts built by public and private enterprise, on improved lines, and equipped with modern requirements, and by the interest taken in all important matches.”

Whilst tennis is still played in England, alas, the courts at Woburn have, indeed, passed into oblivion. During the First World War parts of the Abbey, the riding school and indoor tennis court (now demolished), were converted into a temporary ward for wounded soldiers; some 2,000 patients passed through the Abbey Hospital.