Cumberland Lodge

Cumberland Lodge is a fascinating place. A twenty-minute walk straight up the Long Walk from Windsor Castle, this royal lodge has been home to a string of royal personnages, a military hero, and was the site of secret negotiations leading to the abdication of Edward VIII. Today, the lease on the Lodge is granted by the Queen, as it had been by her father George VI, to the King George VI and Queen Elizabeth Foundation of St Catharine’s. Founded in 1947 with the help of Amy Buller, te foundation permits students to attend academic conferences and retreats. When I attended one such conference (Feb. 2007), my attention was firmly focused upon the house and not the sociology lectures! The man who enjoyed the 2006-7 residency position offered some of us a wonderful tour of the house. Every historical point was accompanied by an personal anecdote. He indicated that during his tenure the extent to which the house was haunted became increasingly clear. He mentioned an Indian professor whose first words upon entering the Lodge were: what wonderful spirits inhabit this home. And ultimately, despite its very prestigious inhabitants over the years, Cumberland Lodge still retains its cozy familial atmoshpere.

The 1st duke of Marlborough died in the room pictured above (just to the right of the photo frame). The resident who guided the tour told of a haunting experience which he himself had only a few weeks before. After a water pipe had burst in the kitchen, he was forced to ring a plumber on an emergency basis. The fellow who arrived came came in the side door, at the far end of the house, and said: I'm a bit clairvoyant and I feel there are many spirits in this house. As he worked, they chatted about those spirits, and the resident asked if the plumber/clairvoyant would visit the drawing room; just to satisfy the resident's curiosity about the spirits; he's previously been told that the drawing room was the most haunted one in the Lodge. The plumber said sure, and after his work was complete, they set off down the long corridor (Fitzalan Corridor); the drawing room was at the extreme other end of the house from the kitchen. As they walked, the plumber began to express some reservations. They traversed the great hall, rounded the main staircase, and arrived in the anteroom outside the drawing room. The plumber said he probably shouldn't go any further; he felt odd. The resident said something to the effect of: well you've come this far, let's just go in. He proceeded to open the door, stepped in and moved to turn the lights on just as the plumber was stepping over the threshold. Just at the moment when the resident flicked the switch, the plumber had not yet completely entered the room, and all the bulbs in the chandelier exploded at once! My conjecture is that they woke the sleeping duke.

Marlborough, or John Churchill, was the famed general of heroic renown, who vanquished the Franco-Bavarian forces at Blenheim during the War of the Spanish Succession. His wife, Sarah the indomitable, was Mistress of the Robes, Groom of the Stole, Keeper of the Privy Purse, Ranger of Windsor Great Park, and generally the favourite of Queen Anne. History generally accepts that with her strong character she deftly kept the Queen, until the end of her reign, wrapped around her finger. The Marlboroughs were awarded the lease on the former royal hunting lands at Woodstock, Oxfordshire; where Vanbrugh was commissioned to build Blenheim Palace. Ultimately Sarah dismissed Vanbrugh and oversaw the completion of the vast palace herself. Despite Blenheim Palace, the Marlboroughs preferred their London house and their cozy home down the road from Windsor Castle; then known as either Byfield House, Great Lodge or Windsor Lodge; a compact and symmetrical house at the top of the road from Windsor Castle. When Sarah fell from favour she and the duke travelled throghout Europe, where his status as a Prince of the Holy Roman Empire, and his heroic stature, brought them the highest honours wherever they went. After Queen Anne's death in 1714, the couple returned to England. Despite a modest return to favour during the reigns of the first two Georges, they never regained the power which they wielded over the crown as they did over the last Stuart monarch.
Princess Marie-Louise of Schleswig-Holstein.
Cumberland Lodge's name is derived from the title of its first royal inhabitant: Prince William, Duke of Cumberland; second son of George II; in antagonisation of his detested older brother Frederick, Prince of Wales. He was appointed Ranger of the Great Park by his father. William was a military man, though not of the same stature as Marlborough. In fact, he acquired the unfortunate monicker: Billy the Butcher, or Butcher Cumberland; for the massacre underhis command of Scots at Culloden. William required alterations made to the Marlboroughs cozy little house, in order to accommodate the large retinue of a high-ranking prince. The lodge was considerbaly enlarged, and reconfigured; with the front door moved to the north front from the east. He introduced a menagerie at the Lodge, and spent most of his retirement there. When his father died, William became a confidant to his nephew; the young George III.

The next prince to inhabit the Lodge was again a Duke of Cumberland; Prince Henry Frederick; George III's youngest brother. Fatherless from a tender age, and coddled by his over-protective mother, Augusta, Princess of Wales, Henry grew up to be an insolent, petulant and all around spoiled brat. As a young man, he was involved in a scandal involving a married woman. he pushed his brother's patience to its limits when he secretly married a daughter of an Irish peer. This action prompted George III to push for the adoption of the Royal Marriages Act (1772); requiring the sovereign's consent to marriages of all members of the Royal Family. This act is still law, and was what precluded Princess Margaret from marrying her dashing captain. It was this Duke of Cumberland who introduced George IV, when still Prince of Wales, to Brighton; as well as to the more licentious side of life. For the young PoW, his uncle Cumberland's debauched circle provided the escape from his father's stuffy, rigid court. Uncle and nephew became quite close, the Duke being aware of Georgy's secret wedding to Mrs. Fitzherbert. Ultimately Henry's petulance and increasingly haughty mannerisms with his nephew meant that, for the sake of his dignity, the PoW distanced himself from his uncle. Henry preferred London to Windsor, but is known to have used the Lodge for hunting excursions and occassional celebrations.

Upon his younger brother's death, George III assumed the rangership himself (he was determined to keep the post in the Royal Family). Despite her constant demands of money (all refused), the King allowed the Dowager Duchess of Cumberland to remain in residence at the Lodge. She spent most of her remaining years, however, living abroad where her limited allowance spread further. After her death in 1809, George III began to make alterations to the Lodge with a view to using it as his own country retreat. The King engaged architect James Wyatt, of Stawberry Hill fame, who transformed the west front to the very fashionable gothic style. The King never had his country retreat due the advance of Porphyria; known as his madness. His son, Georgy, concentrated his efforts upon neighbouring Royal Lodge, which was built in the cottage orne style by Nash. While in the area, nash also undertook necessary repairs to Cumberland Lodge; completing work left unfinished my George III's seclusion at Windsor Castle. George IV used the Lodge as a guest house to Royal Lodge during Ascot Week. He also diverted the road leading to the castle (the Long Walk) at Snow Hill, where he erected a statue of his father (known as the 'The Man on the Copper Horse'). Throughout the 1820s the Lodge continued to be improved and updated (e.g. a water-closet in 1824). William IV offered the Lodge to his younger brother, the Duke of Sussex, who declined anyway.
Wyatt's gothic west front.
During the early reign of Queen Victoria, the Lodge provided accommodation to a series of court officials. It was her third daughter, and fifth child, Princess Helena (Lenchen to her family), who was to be the last royal inhabitant of Cumberland Lodge. Helena married Prince Christian of Schleswig-Holstein on condition that he assume the rangership and the couple remain in England. At first, the couple lived at Frogmore House, only steps from Windsor Castle, but the air there seemed to be detrimental to Helena's health. Victoria was not keen to let her move very far away from Windsor. In November 1869, Cumberland Lodge was ravaged by a strong fire which left Billy the Butcher's north-addition completely gutted. Queen Victoria arrived on the scene of the conflagration with her youngst children, and toured the burned-out building. At one point while touring what remained of the upper level, the Queen was 'pumped' upon and drenched accidentally. The fire meant that Lord Bridport, the latest court official to take up residence, was out. Victoria wanted the house rebuilt to the standards of the day, and of proportions fitting for a memeber of the Royal Family. Helena and her growing family took up residence in 1872. That year, Helena's younger daughter, Marie-Louise, was born at the Lodge; the first royal baby to be born there. In 1912, Helena undertook renovations which moved the main staircase to its current placement, installed electricity, as well as creating a second floor. Helena was well respected during her life for her charitbale work, especially for nursing and the YWCA. Living at Cumberland Lodge enabled Helena to spend part of every day with the Queen when both were in residence at Windsor. The Queen took an active interest in organizing the household staff at the Lodge, and would drive over from the castle to visit with Helena and her family. Helena died at Schomberg House, Pall Mall, in 1923; ending, for now, the use of Cumberland Lodge as a royal residence.
the back staircase.
The lease provided to the King George VI and Queen Elizabeth Foundation of St Catharine’s is valid only during the lifetime of the monarch who provided it. In other words, although not probable, there is still a chance that Cumberland Lodge revert to a royal residence during successive reigns. Although the house is closed to the general public, walkers can enjoy its exterior while walking through the Great Park.

a tiny taste of Montreal

Assorted Montreal: (from top to bottom) BOM Tower; Peel Metro Station; McGill College Avenue; Gare Centrale.

Frogmore House

Frogmore House is a really charming mansion steps away from the East Terace and private aparmtents at Windsor Castle, within the Home Park, and part of the Frogmore Estate. Today, the mansion is still used by the Royal Family, and is open to the public only twice a year. It's association with the Royal Family extends back to 1792, when the lease was purchased for George III's consort, Queen Charlotte. The Royal Family had owned the estate since the mid-sixteenth century, but had leased it out until Queen Charlotte's tenure. Among it's more illustrious tenants are the Duke of Northumberland, Charles II's mistress the Duchess of Cleveland, and Sir Robert Walpole's second son: Edward. Today, it's associations are mostly with Queen Victoria and her mother; both of whose remains occupy massive mausoleums in the grounds. Likewise, behind Victoria and Albert's mausoleum are interred the remains of several of their children and further descendants. This little graveyard, though visible from the path, is off limits to the public. In its grounds are the graves of the Duke and Duchess of Windsor, Princess Helena (who inhabited Frogmore House for a short period), and the longest-lived member of the Royal Family: Princess Alice, Duchess of Gloucester; amongst others.

Queen Charlotte first occuppied a smaller lodge nearby on the Little Frogmore Estate, called Amelia Lodge; after her youngest daughter. She combined the Little and Great Frogmore Estates in 1792, demolished Amelia Lodge, and established the house we know now as Frogmore. In those days the Royal Family lived in a series of lodges just to the south of Windsor Castle on the site where today the Long Walk begins (these lodges are no longer extant). For Charlotte, Frogmore was therefore a backyard retreat. She did not use the house as such, instead it was a sort of playhouse where she could amuse herself and retreat from court life. Here she dallied in the gardens, leading her daughters in a life of luxurious boredom. When the consort of the mad King passed away in 1818, after a cantankerous and bitter old age, Frogmore was passed to her second eldest daughter, The Princess Augusta. The furnishings were sold in order to provide some settlement to the Queen's surviving daughters. Princess Augusta kept Frogmore until her death in 1840, when the estate was officially annexed into the larger Windsor Estate. The next year, Queen Victoria gave her mother, the Dowager Duchess of Kent, Frogmore as her official residence. The old Duchess spent twenty years in residence, and turned the house from daytime retreat into a Victorian home. When both the Duchess of Kent and Queen Victoria's husband died within the space of a few months, the grief stricken Queen installed their remains in elaborate, quite grandiose mausoleums just west of the lake. Victoria spent many hours in the garden (especially at her little tea house, below) working on state affairs, and enjoying the peace the surroundings afforded her. When this venerable old Queen died in 1901, her remains joined those of her long-lamented husband and consort.

After Victoria, her grandson the Prince of Wales (future George V) occuppied the house with his wife Mary and their five children. Mary was an enhusiastic preservationist and did much to enhance the house and gardens. Queen Victoria's daughter Helena, The Princess Christian of Schlewig-Holstein occuppied the house between 1866-72. Prince Christian was the ranger of Windsro great Park, and a conditon of their marriage was the Helena remain in Britain near to ther mother. However, the low-lying position of Frogmore was not coducive to Helena's delicate constitution and she moved further into the Great Park to Cumberland Lodge. Frogmore House was opened to the public for the first time in 1990, on limited days in May; generally to coincide with the closest weekend to Queen Victoria's birthday (24 May).

FLYTOWER

'Flytower' was a delightfully subtle though monumental work by the artistic duo of Ackroyd & Harvey. The duo, consisting of husband and wife team Dan Harvey and Heather Ackroyd, were not intending to create a monument with the project; Heather said it was really in the subtelty of the work that she found its power. As a memeber of the team who helped to slather clay on the walls of the National Theatre's Flytower, and then embedded specially germinated grass seeds, I found the monumentality was in the preparation. And indeed, what a phenomenal process we as a team went through. Artists, actors, musicians, students all climbed the scaffolding over a grey weekend at the end of April 2007, and worked our way down to the ground as Dan and his co-waterers followed us with their sprays and splashes of water. For Heather and Dan, this was the largest scale project they had attempted to date. Aside from a church in north London which they turned inside out by planting all the interior walls with grass, the duo had also been known for manipulating photosynthesis in order to have images grow out from the clay base. Truly astounding work!
'Flytower' was part of an arts festival along London's South Bank, that saw dozens of casts of Antony Gormley along rooftops and on both sides of Waterloo Bridge. One even found its way atop the Flytower much to the annoyance of Ackroyd and Harvey. In the end, however, I feel Gormley's blatant presence atop 'Flytower' only heightened the project's elegant simplicity and powerfully evocative message(s). Here is Gormley, the archetype of celebrity artist, tres recherché, a la mode; working on a project which speaks volumes about him (not to dismiss any deeper connotations; I am only offering a cursory glance for comparison's sake). And here is a grass covered concrete block. My point is that, even without knowing how many people worked on either project, the one says me while the other says us. And that is precisely what Ackroyd and Harvey project through their work. They care about us, about our environment, and about the manner in which we treat our planet. These two are not fanatical do or die environmentalists, nor is it right to say they are Bolly Bolsheviks; they are two individuals who want to insert the germ of a thought into your mind. They want you to pause and reflect: why is that covered in grass? why grass? why is it so strange and compelling all at once? And then you walk away thinking about...well at some point your thoughts will return to that odd site and you'll continue to reflect.
The process was remarkably simple, if not arduous, and for some of us a bit back-breaking. Clay was mixed down on the NT's terrace, a bit of horse hair (in this case synthetic substitute) added for the roots to grip, and hoisted up a pulley to the clayers and seeders on the scaffolding. Clayers and seeders each worked on a space about two metres wide on the north and west sides of the tower. We started all the way at the top, wore construction kit and helmets (absolutely necessary for the taller of us, as nuts and bolts tended to cause head-pain; and were everywhere fastened keeping us in the air), and simply slathered the goopedy gunck all over the rough concrete; in two layers thick; so that your finger would squish it in slightly leaving a mark. We sat, kneeled and stood. The cleverer amongst us brought cushions, and one really clever northerner brought a fitness ball (causing me to salivate as my creeky knees strained to find a comfortable position). There was one frightening moment when one team memeber slipped on the wet, clay covered wood plank and her leg fell between the scaffolding and the wall. We lifted her out, and after the intial shock wore off everything carried on as before.

Once the clay was applied we patted handfuls of seed over the entire expanse. The seeds were brought from the depths of the NT's plant rooms. On the terrace on team member sat and tended the seeds; keeping them aerated and moist. They were pullied up to us, several greens bags per bucket on the hoist. We went through them fast. You might imagine how much seed is required to cover two such large expanses of wall; and how difficult it would be to make every single seed stik in place. There was run-off , and there were mutliple applications. Heather came around to see that everything was going well, and enough clay (not too little or too much) as well as seed was being applied. The seed supply was limited so we had to try and waste as little as possible in the fallout from our hands. We scooped it up from plywood boards arranged to catch the run-off. Still, weeks later when the grass had grown, it was a delight to find clumps of it sprouting from the most unusual places all around the terrace below. As we worked our way down over the course of three days, we grew increasingly sore and tired. It was hard work. But worth it. Imagine the sense of accomplishment one gets from planting what is essentially a vertical lawn. Astounding.

Once the major work was done, it was Dan who sat on the proverbial egg, as it were. The scaffolding remained in place for two weeks, during which time Dan was out watering at all hours; staying nearby the way a parent would. I walked over Waterloo Bridge several times to check the progress, waved at Dan on the roof, and tried to distinguish the rate of growth through the protective mesh. When the scaffolding did come down, depsite any intial beige patches, I was levelled. I knew that in most people's minds it would be the subtelty Heather talked to me about that would affect them the most. Yet, for me, all I saw was monumentality; and it struck me how everyday the monumental really is. You see, throughout the process, we team-members were so absorbed in the work that thoughts of gigantism were far from our minds. We were nonetheless amazed at what we were accomplishing, and that's the point. We had such fun, and so many laughs, made new friends and strengthened existing bonds, that in the end the mammoth scale was rendered subtle even to us who covered those massive walls in clay and seed with our bare hands.

The Royal Pavillion

Prinny, a.k.a, The Prince of Wales, later The Prince Regent, and even later HM King George IV, was really a charmingly spoiled little boy at heart, desperate for comfort and love; but also the sovereign of the British Empire, and quite a prolific royal builder.

George IV is remembered largely for his enormous contribution to art and architecture, even if during his life these pursuits put him at odds with parliament, and certainly his father when he was alive (and sane). He gave us Buckingham Palace, Windsor Castle's present form, the National Gallery, Carleton House Terrace, Regent's Street and Park, and embellished the Royal Collection of fine (if not exuberant) Regency furnishings. He also built (and demolished) his famous house at the foot of Regent's Street, Carleton House, and racked up enormous debts transforming it into the most exuberant display of interior decoration the era knew. And he gave us what was and is the greatest flight of architectural fancy any King or Queen has in British history: The Royal Pavillion Brighton.

The Pavillion began life as a relatively modest double-bow-fronted house along Brighton's fashionable promenade, the Steine, which was attracting royalty even before Georgey-Peorgy made his way down. In fact, in a bid to escape his parents' rather rigid court, and to evade his creditors for awhile, George first started venturing south to visit his uncle the Duke of Cumberland by the seaside. It was not long before George decided to purchase his very own 'beach hut' (put so well in Blackadder the Third). Here he could enjoy a liberated atmosphere amongst his own court, the company of his illegal wife Mrs. Fitzherbert, as well as the chance to promenade along the Steine being seen. However, his modest house with its two bows was not sufficient for a Prince of Wales, and Henry Holland was commissioned to enlarge the shack; an enfilade of reception suites along the Steine mapped out the plan for future embellishments. At the same time, The PoW bought the adjoining land beside and behind the house; and stables were erected to house his elaborate equipage.

It must be noted that the dawn of the nineteenth century was a period of architectural innovation and stylistic daring. Of course, the era is largely remembered for its plain white stucco terraces, but it was also a period when Strawberry Hill heralded in the intricate Gothic Style, and when Prinny's own Carelton House's neo-Classical exterior belied its lush hodge-podge interiors; which included gothic and oriental influences. Georgy was innovative of spirit, and fashion forward. As PoW, George also did everything he could to oppose his parents' court, from supporting Whig politics to encouraging extravagance in the arts. Certainly, nobody could accuse George III and Queen Charlotte of exoticism at their court or palaces. Thus, when John Nash was commissioned to carry out further alterations to the Pavillion, it was no ordianry building Georgy had in mind; rather, a fantasy-spired Mogul's palace. And that is just what George got.

By 1822 George had ascended the throne, and work in Brighton was completed. However, as King, George evolved into a less rebellious creature, and began towing the traditional Tory line. All the reasons for the Pavillion's extistence in his life ceased to be relevant. He was no longer the figurehead of the opposition, he was soveriegn majesty of all Britain and Empire. He no longer cavorted with Mrs. Fitzherbert; after the very public debacle of his marriage to Caroline of Brunswick he carried out rather public affairs with rather bourgeois ladies. His focus shifted from everything he cared for as Prince, and concentrated upon his legacy as King. His opulent headquarters as PoW, Carelton House, was demolished in 1827 in order to fund the aggrandizement of his parents beloved Buckingham house into a palace (much of the furniture from the former still resides in the latter). And, he set upon a major course of modernisation and embelishment at Windsor Castle. In his own way, George rose to the station of King and left his own distinct mark. And what of the Mogul's dream on the Sussex coast? Yes, it was still used to play a game of fantastic domesticity, and, after the death of his daughter Charlotte, gouty George spent lonely hours in his ground floor apartment lamenting times past. Brighton was no longer the fashionable seaside town. It was a growing town, and the Pavillion was already a tourist attraction. There was no privacy for a King who grew fatter by the hour, and whose vanity precluded any long forays into the public's view. Windsor became his new haunt, and his trips around the Great Park, stopping at Sand Pit Gate for Cherry Brandy replaced the fashionable promenades of his youth. It was in this castle, in the same Blue Room Queen Victoria would enshrine in memory of her Albert, that George IV died.

The Brighton Pavillion was an immediate bete noire; for a variety of reaosns. Georgy's successor was not of the same character as his brother; quite the opposite. William IV was a sailor, a duty-bound, hard working prince and King. He was a bit like stale old toast and porridge, to Georgy's haute cuisine. William was happy at Clarence House (built for him as Duke of Clarence) adjoining St. Jame's Palace and refused to live in the new Buckingham Palace. He was known to have visited the Pavillion as King, but it held no significance to him other than providing, perhaps, nostalgia of his visits to his brother. When he died, his successor Victoria made occasional visits to the Sussex coast, staying in her 'uncle King's' palace. However, as her brood of princes and princesses grew, and her own childlike exuberance subsided into a restrained Victorian reserve, her presence in Brighton became more and more incongruous with her position as Queen. Indeed, the Pavillion was never intended to be the home of a King, but rather was built as a representation of the oppositional forces at play in British politics; as well as within the Royal Family itself. Victoria, despite her balls at Buckingham Palace as a young unmarried Queen, quickly became the very centre of respectability for her nation. So, when funds were required to expand Buckingham Palace, the Royal Pavilion went up for sale.

The Brighton Improvement (Purchase of the Royal Pavilion and Grounds) Act 1850 was drawn up in order to facilitate a fair purchase price for the Town of Brighton, as well as ensure the Pavillion would not be demolished by speculators. The final purchase price was £53 000. Today, the Brighton Pavillion draws tourists from around the world. The palace is in a remarkable state of preservation. Despite the absence of Prinny and his court, walking through the Pavillion provides one with a remarkably intimate sense of the earliest decades of the nineteenth century. While opulent in its decor, it nonetheless retains a coziness one would expect from a vacation home. Again, despite its opulence, it is not pretentious, but simply representative a highly refined individual who had the means at his disposal to create a true fantasy land. What we glean of George IV's personality here is that he was an apparent pleasing combination of grand scale and intimate comfort!

Bay Street Sampler

Some of the Towers that dominate Canada's banking capital; Toronto
top to bottom: BOM Tower; Mies van der Rohe's TD Plaza; same; and CIBC's Commerce Court.

Polesden Lacey

The Honourable Mrs. Ronald Greville's home in the glorious hills of Surrey next to the town of Dorking represents all that was wonderful and glittering about the high Edwardian era. That being said, Poleseden Lacey relates a wonderful story of the possibilities in the English nation; from medieval gentry to theatrical elite; the 'little' yellow-ish stately home in the Surrey Hills.

A certain Lady Leslie, according to the National Trust's guidebook, would rather have had raw sewage in her drawing room than Maggie Greville. The Prime Minister A.J. Balfour described her words as honeyed poison. She was a woman of extremes; she was loved by some for her hospitality and fondness of young people; feared and hated by others for her brilliantly honed and sharpened wit. In an age of fearfully self-conscious aristocrats, Mrs. Greville's Scottish industrial background, and a seeming grasping approach to royalty, meant she was regarded by many as parvenu. After entertaining Edward VII at Polseden Lacey late in his reign (the King-Emperor's Royal Suite is not currently open to the public), Maggie became great friends with Queen Mary, and even took a motherly interest in Queen Elizabeth the Queen Mother (much of her jewellery was bequeathed to the then Queen {1942} and is now included in the Royal Collection). Mrs. Greville was a legendary hostess in her own time. Her parties and suppers were renowned for the high standard of excellence in their execution; her famous baby tongues (lamb) were reserved for occasions when royalty were present. With the alterations she made to Polseden Lacey (1906-1909), as well as her elegant posture and acerbic wit, Mrs. Greville personified all the refinement and hybrid-aesthetics that defined in part the Edwardian Era. She equally carried on the traditions of Polseden Lacey; achievement, aggrandizement, and accessible retreat from London.

The origins of Polseden Lacey can be traced to 1198, when one Herbert de Polseden was known to be selling land in the Surrey Hills. The Lacy family owned the estate late in the fourteenth century; the suffix 'Lacey' would not be used until the late sixteenth century. During the first half of the eighteenth century Polseden was owned by two self-made men named Moore. Arthur Moore was the Lord Commissioner of trade and planning, the director of the South Sea Company, and Comptroller of Army Accounts. His brother, Thomas, worked through the ranks to become paymaster of land forces abroad. Thomas left Polseden to Arthur's son, William, who considerably enlarged the house to include a great staircase and two galleries, along with other glorifying aggrandizements. At William's death Polseden was sold to another military family, The Welsh Gearys. After rising to the rank of Admiral in the navy, Francis Geary enjoyed fourteen years of retirement at Polseden. When he died his son leased the house to the first of its truly famous inhabitants: Richard Brinsley Sheridan.

Sheridan was a celebrated playwright, with shares in the Theatre Royal Drury Lane, as well as a gifted parliamentary orator. His career in politics was sponsored by none other than that 'other' Spencer girl, the illustrious Georgiana (pronounced in the Cavendish manner: zhor-zhayyna), Duchess of Devonshire. Polesden became for Sheridan a true country retreat, where he relished his role of country squire; entertaining on a grand scale for both friends and local inhabitants. When the opportunity arose, Sheirdan used the £8000 dowry his second wife brought him to purchase the estate (1797 / transaction completed 1804). His friends included the Duke of Wellington, Lord Byron, and The Prince Regent. Indeed, when Sheridan's finances took a turn for the worse, it was this group of friends who helped to lease him a house in Leatherhead while he oversaw the repair of his financial estate. Sheridan had grand plans for the rebuilding of Polesden, not achieving much more than the extension of the long walk during his lifetime.

After his death, Polesden was purchased by a wealthy stationer from Lincolnshire, who commissioned Thomas Cubitt (the developer of Belgravia, Pimlico and Brighton's Kemp Town) to demolish the house and rebuild it in the fashionable neo-classical style (1821-3). The new house comprised adjoining lodges and highly fashionable suites of furniture. It was reported that the total cost of the rebuild totaled £50 000 at the time (an enormous sum).

In 1853 Polesden wa sold to Sir Walter Farquhar, whose grandfather had been physician to The Prince Regent. Between 1902-5, Polesden belonged to Sir Clinton Dawkins before being bought by Mr. & Mrs. Ronald Greville. Margaret Greville used hte money she inherited form her father (the brewer William McEwan) to commission the finest architects of the day to create a comfortable, elegant and achingly refined nest to highlight her taste, talent (as a hostess), and royal connections. It was a matter of poised public relations. Those architects, Mewès and Davis, the Belgian-English partnership responsible for the Ritz Hotel, and prized for their Arts Nouveaux style, concocted a house of a sufficient dignity to house Mrs. Greville's growing collection of art and titled friends. At Polesden, the architects produced a refined hodge-podge of styles, from neo-Classical to Jacobean in such a way as to make them seem inseparable and completely natural. It was a comfortable style, nonetheless elegant and perhaps forbidding to some. Its inherent insouciance exudes an aura of confidence and, above all, wealth. Indeed, Mrs. Greville's larger than life portrait by Carolus Duran, dominating the Picture Corridor, is perhaps the exuberant exclamation point of the entire refurbishment.

And, Mrs. Greville's would be the last stamp to be imprinted upon Polesden Lacey. Upon her death in 1942, Margaret Greville bequethed her Mayfair townhouse along with Polesden Lacey, and her impressive collection of pictures, to the nation. In hindsight, it is Mrs. Greville's accomplishments as a hostess at Polesden Lacey (and elsewhere) that are remembered. However, late in her life Margaret Greville became an enthusiastic supporter of the Nazis. This was not uncommon amongst the wealthy landowners of Britain of the time as it represented to them the pinnacle of patriotism. Also, the wealthy assumed Nazis would not deprive them of their money and belongings the way Communists threatened (see the Mitford family saga for elucidation of the politics of the 1930s in Britain). She became friends with the German (i.e. Nazi) ambassador Joachim von Ribbentrop, and attended the Nuremberg Rally in 1934. In the end, however, as she lay in her bed at the Dorchester, frail with age, and bombs dropped outside in Hyde Park, she was heard to say that she had warned the Nazi plenipotentary minister: the Nazis may beat the English, but they would never beat the Scots. She died in that bed not long after. Despite these political transgressions, Mrs. Greville goes down in history as the woman who one morning had three kings sitting on her bed, and for giving us all the chance to wander through her treasure-trove named Polesden Lacey.

In the beginning was the verb...

I am an architecture enthusiast. Perhaps not to everyone's taste, I don't enjoy following the fashion of architecture. I am primarily an architectural historian. I enjoy the stories architecture has to tell us. Every bit of built fabric, from the teeniest nooks and crannies of urban pastiche, to the most expansive rustic courtyards spin yarns of how people lived, and reacted to their environments. This is essentially what this blog is about. Let the fun begin...