The Waterloo Banquets — Part Two
Robin James
With the Duke’s many visitors and well-wishers departed from Apsley House, preparations for the Waterloo banquet were complete. Throughout London many began to make the journey to Hyde Park Corner to witness the beginning of the event and take part in the celebration of Napoleon’s defeat and the return of peace to Europe.
The Waterloo Banquets could not be held without a collection of the finest dinnerware. Fortunately for the Duke of Wellington, the level of celebrity that he enjoyed after Waterloo meant that gifts of enormous value were heaped upon him by grateful monarchs and wealthy private individuals. The Wellington Collection is home to several dinner services, all of which are special enough to entertain a visiting monarch. At the Waterloo Banquet, several of these were used in conjunction with one another to achieve the maximum visual impact. A gold service that had formerly belonged to the Duke of York was used, as well as the enormous set of silver plate given to Wellington by the King of Portugal. The silver centerpiece from this service (now in the Dining Room) was also used, and at approximately nine metres long this would have provided a remarkable setting for the dinner.
The Portuguese centrepiece in the Waterloo Gallery, 1970:
Apsley House, Hyde Park Corner
Apsley House: Exterior and surrounding area
collage.cityoflondon.gov.uk
The Russian torcheres which stand in the Waterloo Gallery are made of 1,250 kilograms of Siberian porphyry. Their dramatic presence was increased by their placement in the room, with the dining table fitted around them due to their enormous weight. This gave the appearance that these massive columns of stone were part of the table’s decoration. Have a look at Salter’s painting and you can see this arrangement.
The importance of ‘spectacle’ strongly influenced the setting of these banquets. The Waterloo Gallery had been designed to amaze Wellington’s visitors with a high ceiling adorned with delicate plaster decoration and meticulous gilding. The collection of paintings from the Spanish Royal Collection, the vast mirrors on the gallery’s western side and the trappings of the banquet itself all served to impress upon guests to Apsley House that the Duke of Wellington was a man of great acclaim. His impressive reputation required such a venue as Apsley House, as it was fitting for the victor of Waterloo to live in such luxurious surroundings. Although Wellington never built his ‘Waterloo Palace’ to rival Blenheim, his London residence was well suited to reflect his fame. Additional items were brought to the Waterloo Gallery on the day of the banquet. The room was further decorated with three golden candelabra, a gift from the citizens of London, and the Prussian dessert service completed the exquisite, international layout. It has been suggested that Wellington’s decision to display services from multiple nations at the Waterloo Banquet was politically motivated. The Duke himself was a staunch conservative who had supported Castlereagh’s goals for the Congress of Vienna. The main table may have deliberately represented the European continent and the network of alliances that held it together.
The sideboard, however, featured works designed and commissioned in Britain. The most impressive of these was surely the Wellington Shield. Commissioned by the merchants and bankers of London, this vast and impressive piece of metalwork celebrates Wellington’s life and achievements. The central scene shows Wellington on horseback surrounded by officers and looming symbolically over a defeated man. This man can be assumed to be a Frenchman, as a regimental eagle lies beside him. He may perhaps represent Napoleon, or Napoleonic France itself. After the battle, many began referring to Wellington as the ‘saviour of Europe,’ which suggests that he was given considerable credit for the conclusion of the wars with France. To represent him as the individual who finally brought Napoleonic France to surrender seems in keeping with popular opinion. The shield can be seen in Salter’s painting at the left-hand side of the image, accompanied by two candelabra designed to evoke trees laden with the fruits of victory. These can be seen in the Museum Room at Apsley House, and include some strikingly well-crafted examples of soldiers from Wellington’s years of service. His campaigns in numerous fields are reflected, as these candelabra feature both Indian and Portuguese soldiers in addition to the various divisions of the British Army. The cumulative impact of all of these gifts, combined with the interior decoration of the Waterloo Gallery itself will have left no doubts in the minds of Wellington’s guests that they were in the presence of a great man.
The Waterloo Gallery with the dining table set for a banquet (lithograph by Joseph Nash, 1853):
Whilst a fortunate few were able to witness the preparation of the Duke’s banquet, this opportunity was limited to the upper circles of society. The vast majority of the citizens of London would have to be content with watching from outside the house, as the carriages of Wellington’s guests pulled up to the gates. It was certainly the case that many Londoners chose to do so. In fact, on some occasions the crowd grew so large that it would have completely blocked Piccadilly if the Metropolitan police had not been forced to intervene. Carriages of the nobility could be spotted within the crowds, as all were keen to witness the momentous occasion when the guests began to arrive. As the guests’ carriages passed Apsley House’s iron gates, the men who stepped out were met with cheers according to their popularity among the crowd. There were those whose popularity never dwindled and were met with the loudest cheers every year, such as the Marquis of Anglesey, King William IV or Prince Albert. Many Waterloo veterans were seen amongst the crowds wearing their uniforms and Waterloo medals, so Wellington’s second-in-command could be expected to be cheered enthusiastically. Despite the exclusivity of the banquet itself, the 18th of June remained very much a day of national celebration and pride. It has been suggested that the continuing popularity of the battle of Waterloo throughout the 19th century was connected to the military hegemony of Britain during this period. Waterloo may have provided a moral justification for British dominance, as well as strengthening the peoples’ national identity. As the guests entered the house, they passed the band of the Grenadier Guards. These men stood awaiting the arrival of the banquet’s royal guests who typically arrived last, after 7pm. As they made their way up the steps, the band struck up the National Anthem (or the Coburg March, for Prince Albert). This must have been received very well by the gathered crowds.
Dinner began at around 8pm. This is roughly the same time that Wellington ordered his general advance at the battle itself, and the battered army of Napoleon accepted its defeat. This fact was probably not lost on those who attended both the battle and the banquet. There is only one surviving menu from the Waterloo Banquets, and this shows that it was certainly a sumptuous affair. Although this menu is likely to differ from other years and the format may not be the same, it gives us a really vivid account of what the guests would have enjoyed. Something that is rather surprising is Wellington’s own preference for food. He was a man with enormous wealth, and a very highly paid French chef. However, the food he chose to eat is (in comparison to what was served at the Waterloo Banquet) very simple. Food such as boiled meat and rice seems to have been among the Duke’s favourites. The Waterloo Banquet began with two soup options. In 1839, the guests had turtle or ‘spring’ soup. I have not been able to find a recipe for ‘spring’ soup but if anyone does know then please do tell me! The soups were followed by four options of fish course.
The menu is very continental in style, and this is unsurprising given Wellington’s undeniable love of France. He was introduced to French culture at a young age when he was sent to the military academy at Angers. Later in his life he remained in Paris after his victory at Waterloo, and he certainly would have had plenty of opportunity to sample the best food France had to offer. Undoubtedly his success on the battlefield would yield invitations to every party around. After the fish courses were finished, the servants would then bring out twenty-four entrees. These feature a range of meat, with an emphasis on fowl. This was certainly not a vegetarian-friendly menu. The next course featured four roasts, four removes and four ‘flying removes.’ These ‘flying removes’ were served very rapidly, as two featured souffles and had to be eaten quickly to be best appreciated. The last course featured twenty-four entremets (which translates to English as ‘desserts’). During the meal, music would be provided by the band from the adjacent drawing room. I can only imagine the organisation, efficiency and skill required to serve so many portions of food at a very high standard to so many men on an exact schedule. Wellington’s chef definitely seems to have earned the £150 a year that he was paid.
After the dinner, the toasts began. These took the form of short speeches that were occasionally interrupted by cheers from the other guests. These toasts were distinctly hierarchical in nature. The first was given to the sovereign, or to Prince Albert in the later years. This is what Wellington is shown doing in Salter’s painting, as he has risen from his seat. The composition of the painting is intended to draw the eye of the viewer towards Wellington. A shadow on the wall behind the Duke and another on the carpet in the foreground converge on his position in the painting, and highlight his importance. Salter has probably chosen to depict this stage in the evening for artistic convenience. The time for speeches was a less formal part of the banquet, and as such the guests have begun conversations in small groups and have been able to move themselves away from the table a little. This allowed Salter to make sure every man’s face could be seen in the final composition. After the sovereign had received their toast, they would then in turn propose a toast to Wellington. At this point the room would undoubtedly erupt into enthusiastic cheers. Wellington would make his own toasts to acknowledge the veterans of Waterloo. These began with one for his army, followed by specific references to separate branches such as the cavalry, the guards, the line infantry, the artillery, his own staff, and the engineers. It has been said that the Prussians were traditionally toasted last, perhaps as the first Prussians had arrived at the battle at roughly 2:30pm. This is not to say that their efforts on the day of the battle were ignored by Wellington. He certainly recognised the contribution of the Prussian Army to the eventual victory. It is unfortunate that Field Marshal Blucher did not survive long enough to attend any of the Waterloo banquets. Blucher had been 72 years old at the battle of Waterloo, and died in 1819. Had he lived until 1822 I am sure that he would have received an invitation. Additional toasts were made to those who had recently returned from Imperial service. One officer, Sir Harry Smith was toasted by Wellington in 1847. He later said of the event that it was:
… one of the proudest of my life. To have my health thus flatteringly proposed by the great captain of the age, while surrounded by many of his gallant and veteran generals, and among so large an assemblage of my old comrades, so famed for deeds of arms, is an honour which I would scarcely aspire to.
After the conclusion of the banquet and speeches, the guests would withdraw to one of Apsley House’s drawing rooms for tea, coffee and more informal conversation than might be had at the dinner table. The layout of the first floor reflects the function of the residence. The four large drawing rooms provided ample space for guests before and after banquets, and it was a house very much designed for entertaining on a large scale. The banquet was usually concluded by 10 or 11pm. This may not mean the end of the evening, however. In 1838, Wellington and several of his guests made the short trip to Buckingham Palace for an evening ball hosted by Queen Victoria. It is plausible that there may have been events to go to after the banquet every year.
Despite the closed nature of the evening’s proceedings, information did reach the newspapers. The banquet attracted a great deal of national attention and the Times, with information fed to them, published very detailed accounts of the banquets each year. With each passing year, the popularity of the banquet amongst the people of London actually grew, despite the fact that the battle of Waterloo itself was drifting further and further out of living memory. Londoners flocked to Hyde Park corner in their hundreds to witness the guests arrive, and many more read about the event in the newspapers the next day. If you follow the link below, you can see a lovely engraving from a similar article in the Illustrated London News of 1847. Here the instantly recognisable Wellington has again risen to address his guests with toasts and celebrate the occasion as he had already done more than 20 times before.
Robin James
