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| Windsor Castle - The Quadrangle |
I have been to Windsor many times
before, but somehow visiting the castle was something that was always left for
another day. Not enough time, too late in the day or the children were too
small and they would have had no patience for a lengthy visit. So it was
something jotted on my ever-growing ‘bucket list’. But earlier in
November I had the great pleasure of not only visiting, but also spending the
day there in excellent company. Thanks to Catherine Curzon from ‘A Covent
Garden Gilflurt’s Guide to Life’ and to Mr Arturo Ramirez, who is one of
the fortunate people who have Windsor Castle entrusted to their care, the tour
was very much like a ride on the magic carpet, as we were guided by Mr Ramirez
and had the privilege of hearing countless precious snippets from the castle’s
long history.
I was so taken with the wonderful
experience that a few days later I visited again. I must admit that I would
happily loiter for hours in a historic place examining artefacts or waiting for
that elusive people-free photo. This time I did not have to wait too long. It
was a weekday and at times it felt like I had the place all to myself.
Sensibly, indoor photography is not permitted, but countless images are
available for research and personal use on the Royal Collection Trust
website. So thankfully I will not have to
rely just on my memory to catalogue all the gems I have seen. Such as the burnous
currently displayed in the Grand Vestibule. It was taken from Napoleon’s
fleeing coach, after the battle of Waterloo – a flamboyant garment, bright-red
with golden trimmings, that amongst other things served to dispel the myth of
Napoleon’s stature and prove that the cartoons of the time were largely
propaganda, and he was in fact around 5’6” in height.
A great many artefacts were
displayed elsewhere, in the Drawings Gallery, as part of the ‘Waterloo at
Windsor’ exhibition. Watercolours showing the personages of the day; the
site of battles; the crowds gathered in 1816 at the Bullocks Museum in London,
where Napoleon’s captured carriage was exhibited for a while. More fascinating
still, the original letter
of surrender that he had sent the Prince Regent from Rochefort on the 13th
of July 1815. In that brief note, Napoleon declared that he had terminated his
political career and had determined to throw himself on the hospitality of the
British people and claim the protection of their laws, from ‘the most
powerful, most constant and the most generous’ of his enemies.
As we know, the flattery did not
serve him well. By the time the letter was delivered, Napoleon was already on
his way to St. Helena. Perhaps the Prince might have responded differently had
the letter reached him sooner. Or perhaps not. In the decade of ‘Peterloo’
there was more than enough tension in Britain without the added powder keg of
having the former emperor settled in some English country-house.
We are never to know if the letter
of surrender conveyed mere flattery or genuine thought, but I still chuckle at
the anecdote showing that it was not Napoleon whom the Prince Regent regarded
as his very worst enemy. The story has it that, when the then King George IV
was told that his worst enemy was dead at last, he had exclaimed ‘Is she, by
God!’ – he was referring to his estranged wife.
I am one of those people who would
find more familiar faces in the large canvas depicting Queen Caroline’s trial
than in any images of modern-day parliamentary proceedings, so it was no
surprise that of all the treasures displayed at Windsor Castle it was those
with links to the Georgian period that had my full attention. Such as the small
but deeply moving exhibit in one of the display cabinets in the Grand Vestibule:
a small silver locket containing the very bullet
that killed Admiral Lord Nelson and which, Mr Ramirez told us, still has
remnants of golden braiding from Lord Nelson’s epaulette embedded in its
surface.
Then there was the story of the Waterloo
elm, a towering tree that Lord Wellington’s command post was set
beneath. After the battle, the spot had become one of pilgrimage, and the tree
a target for souvenir hunters, so much so that the owner of the field, heartily
sick of having his crops trampled over, had decided to cut it down. As
serendipity would have it, at the time the site was visited by Mr John
Children, an antiquarian from the British Library, who was travelling with his
daughter Anna. He persuaded the farmer to allow Anna to sketch the tree in
situ, then bought the timber and
brought it to Britain to entrust it to the skill of Mr Thomas Chippendale the
Younger, who fashioned the Waterloo
Chair. It is currently on
display in the King’s Drawing Room – an exquisite piece ornamented with
allegoric carvings and an inscription devised by the Earl of Mornington, the
Duke of Wellington’s elder brother, whereby the Waterloo Chair was
dedicated to King George IV, ‘liberator
of Europe’.
So much to see, so many treasures! The Sèvres ‘Table
of the Great Commanders’ (La Table des Grands Capitains) commissioned by Napoleon. His writing desk.
The exquisite Rockingham
Service, ‘probably the most
ambitious porcelain service ever made by a British factory’ (Windsor Castle Guide p.36) commissioned by
King William IV but only finished in time for Queen Victoria’s coronation. King
George IV’s statue, its design largely chosen by the sitter due to a flattering
well-turned calf. And in the semi-state apartments the bright and colourful
Crimson Drawing Room, fully restored to its Georgian splendour. We see it now,
we are told, just as King George IV would have seen it, not faded with the
passage of time but in all its new and glittering brilliance – the colours
vibrant and fresh, the gold leaf decorations glowing – its restoration to its
original glory one of the fortunate outcomes of the devastating fire of 1992.
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| Windsor at Christmas |
I could not resist the temptation of going back to Windsor for the third time
in as many weeks, to see the Castle decorated for the festive season.
There is a gorgeous Christmas tree in the Crimson Drawing Room now, a towering
giant in St George’s Hall – very nearly as tall as the hall itself – and in the
Octagon Dining Room there is a delightful homage to Queen Charlotte, King
George III’s queen, who had introduced the Christmas traditions of her native
country at the royal court of England. It is sometimes mistakenly believed that
we owe the Christmas tree to Prince Albert, Queen Victoria’s consort. The novel
custom did indeed take root throughout the land during Queen Victoria’s reign,
as everyone was keen to follow in the footsteps of a dearly loved royal couple,
but it was Queen Charlotte who first introduced it, by having a yew tree placed
in a tub in her drawing room, which she decorated with sweetmeats flavoured
with cinnamon, cloves and nutmeg. Two hundred years later, there is a large
branch set in a tub in the Octagon Drawing Room, its decorations reminiscent of
Queen Charlotte’s: beautiful little ornaments cleverly crafted from cinnamon sticks
and dried oranges and limes.
In the nearby State Dining Room, originally intended as George IV’s
private one, we are treated to an exquisite display of Regency dining
splendour, of glittering epergnes and elaborate pyramids of glazed fruits and
berries, looking delightfully real to the unsuspecting eye, and from a display
board we learn of the plum broth served to the Royal Household for Christmas
1815, made of 90 lbs of beef, 38 lbs of veal, 78 lbs currants and as many lbs
of raisins, to which spices, “cochinile”, prunes, Lisbon sugar, butter and no
less than 50 eggs were added.
I am very tempted to scale down the recipe and try it out, but since
the maths might be a challenge I should have a fallback option for Christmas
dinner :)
Have a wonderful Christmas, however adventurous your cooking, and do
visit Windsor Castle decked in its seasonal splendour if you get the chance!
