1823
Back in England, on 12 May 1823, the materials of Wanstead House were sold to a consortium of builders for a paltry sum. Two days later, The Times reported:
Wanstead House was sold by auction on Monday last, for £10,000: one of the conditions of the sale binds the purchaser to clear everything away, even to the foundation, by Lady-day 1825 . . . The purchasers are Messrs Stannard and Athow, of Norwich, in conjunction with three other townsmen. The auctioneer announced to the company, by their request, that they intended to sell the whole in lots, large or small, to suit buyers, and they absolutely sold a pair of marble chimney pieces for 300 guineas before they left the room. Thus is sacrificed, on the shrine of extravagance and gambling, a mansion, which cost in its erection more than £360,000, and which has no equal in the county of Essex.
Messrs Stannard and Athow, builders from Norwich, were professional gentlemen who possessed the skills required to break up the building and sell it off in bits. Mr Stannard, an experienced surveyor, lived at the house for several months and was always on hand to offer help or advice to prospective buyers. The splendid Palladian architecture at Wanstead House was renowned, and connoisseurs of art had a unique opportunity to purchase a piece of the magnificent palace at a knock-down price. The builders wasted no time, and notices were placed in the newspapers advertising the sale:1
Wanstead House Essex, Thirty Days Sale
The materials of this magnificent and extensive building are now selling by private contract; and persons may be accommodated with every description of building material ( from the Cottage to the Palace) on the most reasonable terms, upon application to Mr Joseph Stannard, on the Premises.
Buyers had their pick of crafted stonework such as the grand staircase, stately obelisks and decorative stone urns intricately carved with ancient stories. The internal fixtures included the ornate marble fireplace from the Salon, adorned with a spread eagle; heavy wooden doors with gilt-edged frames; plus the beautifully hand-carved oak staircase. Colen Campbell’s elegant portico, supported by six Corinthian columns, drew a great deal of interest, particularly as the stone relief at the top was exquisitely hand-crafted. Notices announced that the portico would be sold at the third sale, on 1 July, ‘with delivery free to any place on the Thames between Westminster and Woolwich, including carting to the waterside’.2
Art lovers lamented the fact that the much-admired ceiling frescos could not be saved. They had been painted on plaster and were impossible to remove. William Kent’s wonderful representations would soon be reduced to dust: The Seasons (in the Grand Dining Room), Morning, Noon, Evening and Night (in the Great Hall) and Jupiter and Semele (in the Grand Drawing Room).
Hundreds of people attended the sale. Lord Tankerville and the Reverend Savill Ogle, of Newcastle, purchased four marble fireplaces for £426. Humble locals bought pieces of Wanstead House to ornament their modest homes. Prices were extremely reasonable: ‘The wainscot floors sold for about £5 per square foot; wainscot doors, with locks and joints, 2s to 2s 6d.’3
It took several months for the interiors to be ripped out and sold, by which time the company that had judiciously purchased the building had already doubled their money. As soon as the fixtures were sold, the structure was demolished – all that remained of the palatial palace was a pile of rubble. There were three million bricks in all, and Messrs Stannard and Athow managed to salvage everything. Anything they could not sell was taken to Norwich, where they could use it for their own building projects.
In keeping with the terms of the contract, every last stone was removed and, by Lady Day 1825, Wanstead House was entirely erased from the face of the earth. Even the foundations were excavated and bartered. All that was left of the gracious building was a hole in the ground. Once the house was obliterated, William could start hacking away at the pleasure grounds. Great swathes of ancient avenues would be chopped down and sold off as timber. Gardens that had once been compared to Versailles were trampled, torn and left in tatters. Sic transit gloria mundi, as one commentator noted – nothing lasts forever.
Back in Naples, Bulkeley was treating Catherine for depression. Despite all her troubles, the doctor found her to be ‘a lady possessing the most amiable disposition and the sweetest manners’.4 Catherine was a resilient woman, but she had endured too much and she shut herself away, mourning the loss of her mother. William was the model husband, staying at home with his wife and doing everything in his power to comfort her. As the months passed, Catherine’s spirits lifted as she watched the sky above Naples turn a searing blue, the warm air scented with orange blossom. Whenever she drove to the coast, she was charmed by the sunlit shores and sweeping views across the Bay of Naples. Her postilion always stopped at the same spot on the brow of the hill so that the stunning panorama of sea and mountains could be taken in at a glance. Gently lapping azure waters were dotted with white sails and the enchanting island of Capri lay to the right, with Vesuvius on the left puffing plumes of blue smoke onto the cloudless horizon.
Dr Bulkeley noticed that Catherine found great comfort in her children – she was consumed with love for them. During the daytime little Victoria went everywhere with her, and she often took the boys out in the afternoon, when they had finished lessons with their tutor, Mr Pitman. Catherine strolled along golden beaches, while the children paddled in the sea, poking about in rock pools or hunting for starfish and shells. Greedy little Victoria missed the French patisseries, but quickly discovered the marvellous icehouses serving delicious Neapolitan ice cream. Catherine was managing her money very well, and the additional income generated by her mother’s death enabled her to indulge in luxuries to make the most of her time in Naples. She loved taking boat trips and grew to enjoy sailing so much that she purchased her own pleasure barge.5 The bay shimmered like a sea of diamonds and from the water only the rooftops of Naples were visible through the foliage. Colourful tiles, tall steeples and glinting cupolas gave the air of an Eastern city. Catherine always felt a rush of pleasure as the wind swept up her hair or a cool spray of refreshing seawater splashed her face.
Life was idyllic. The apartments at the Cappella Vecchia were beautifully furnished with a terrace running along the back, lined with fragrant orange trees and Spanish jasmine. Sultry evenings enabled the Long Wellesleys to host intimate dinner parties on their scented veranda. Serenaded by accomplished Italian musicians or opera singers, guests enjoyed local delicacies such as succulent wild boar, tender Sorrento veal and iced watermelon.
Naples abounded with scholarly English residents, keenly interested in the excavations at Pompeii and Herculaneum. The British ambassador, William Hamilton, was a renowned antiquarian who became famous for bringing the Rosetta Stone to Britain in 1801.6 His minister, Sir William Drummond, was occupied with literary pursuits. Both academics had fastidious taste and refinement; they were ideal ambassadors, portraying a very favourable image of the English to the inhabitants of Naples. Hamilton, in particular, was such an enthusiast he could talk at length about the history of his vases and antiquities to anyone willing to listen for several hours.7
Hamilton and Drummond took a very studious approach to sightseeing and many newcomers preferred to seek out the droll Sir William Gell, an archaeologist of such renown that the government had granted him special facilities for sketching the excavations at Pompeii.8 His wit shone most brilliantly at dinner parties, where he enjoyed meeting distinguished visitors to Naples and recommending excursions for them. A comical gentleman, he had a penchant for the ridiculous and his tours were always filled with unlikely stories about ancient heroes. Catherine found his humour irresistible, particularly as he always delivered his ludicrous tales with such a grave expression. One evening, Catherine felt laughter bubble up from some forgotten place deep inside her, spilling out irrepressibly. The sound was strange to her ears and she realized, with regret, that it had been a long time since she had laughed out loud. What had become of the light-hearted, optimistic young woman she had once been?
Gell suffered from such severe gout that he had to be transported everywhere in a sedan chair, carried by bearers. Nevertheless, the painful malady never affected his good temper and he was always pleasant company. Unfortunately, even Gell could not cheer Catherine on the day she visited the Museo Borbonico, which housed the treasures found at Herculaneum and Pompeii. As people marvelled at the finest sculptures of antiquity, buried for centuries amid the ruins, Catherine was reminded of all her wonderful treasures at Wanstead House that had been sold off at auction.
Melancholy, however, passed quickly in Naples. The noisy, animated, friendly Neapolitan people enchanted Catherine. Whenever she went out with her children, people greeted the family warmly and there was always plenty to entertain them. Impromptu theatres sprang up in the streets and squares as applauding audiences crowded round tightrope walkers, puppeteers, musicians and dancers. Catherine’s days were filled with sunshine and laughter, but demons from the past still lingered beneath the surface, coming back to haunt her in the dead of night. Although she mourned the loss of her mother and the destruction of Wanstead House, she also felt strangely detached from it all. Gloomy England seemed a long way away from the glorious, sun-drenched world she had escaped to.
Catherine might well have passed a pleasant summer in Naples if her husband had not become embroiled in yet another scandal. On this occasion his behaviour was so outrageous, it resulted in a high-profile court case that would shock the British public and resonate throughout the nation for years to come.