A Collection of Arcs de Triomphe (none of them in Paris) Part 1: Pre 1900

Triumphal Arches - What is and What is Not

This is the third iteration of this post. The original, published 01/04/2014, was ‘Four Arcs de Triomphe (none of them in Paris). The second, 29/06/2018, included newly collected arches, but also omitted Lutyens’ India Gate from the earlier post on the grounds it was a War Memorial, not a Triumphal Arch.

Defining a Triumphal Arch is difficult. Some arches called Triumphal have no associated triumph, and then there are Monumental Gates and War Memorials which can look very similar.

Although retaining the title, I have chosen a new and more inclusive definition for these posts (there are now two of them, this one and post-1900). For the purposes of this blog an ‘Arc de Triomphe’ is an arch with no structural purpose. This definition includes war memorials built in arch form – like the India Gate mentioned above and also Monumental Gates as long as they were built to be symbolic i.e. not city gates built as part of a wall, even if the wall has long gone. Another qualification of inclusion is that I have been there and taken the photograph.

Almost all modern arches owe a debt to the Parisian Arch, because it was (almost) the first modern Arc de Triomphe; but it was not, of course, the original. Like so much in Europe, Triumphal Arches are a Roman idea.

Classical Arches

None of my modern arches are in Paris, so none of my classical arches are in Rome.

In order of construction they are:

Hadrian's Arch, Gerasa, Jordan

Built 129 CE Visited 10th of November 2019

Jordan

There site of Gerasa (modern Jerash) in northern Jordan has been inhabited since prehistory. The city, though, was founded by Alexander the Great who breezed through in 333 BCE, or by one of his successors. The Romans arrived in 63 BCE and Gerasa became part of the Roman Province of Syria. Set in a relatively fertile area, with iron-ore deposits nearby the city could not but thrive. In 106 CE it became part of the Province of Arabia and became even richer thanks to the Emperor Trajan's road building programme. The start of the 2nd century saw much new building and a new grid plan, and then the honour of an imperial visit. Trajan, who had been responsible for much of Gerasa's recent prosperity, died in 117, so it was Hadrian who made the visit in 129, and thus the Triumphal Arch bears his name.

Hadrian's Arch, Jerash/Gerasa

The Arch of Marcus Aurelius, Tripoli

Built 165 CE, Visited April 2006

Libya

We visited Libya in 2006, the home of two well preserved/restored Roman arches. The Arch of Marcus Aurelius in Tripoli was built to commemorate the victory of Marcus's adopted brother, Lucius Verus, over the Parthians. It seems a thin excuse for building an arch so far away from the events, but perhaps he felt in need of a monument.

The Arch of Marcus Aurelius, Tripoli

The Arch of Septimius Severus, Leptis Magna

Built 203 CE, Visited April 2006

The ruins of Leptis Magna lie 130 km east of Tripoli. Septimius Severus, Rome’s only African emperor, was born here in 145 CE. He became emperor in 193 and ruled until he fell ill attempting to conquer Caledonia, and died in York in 211. He is honoured by an arch in Rome commemorating his victory over the Parthians (it seems Lucius Verus failed to finish them off) and this one in his home town.

The Arch of Septimius Severus, Leptis Magna

The Modern Link

Napoleon in a Toga, Bastia

France

After the Romans, triumphal arches went out of fashion until the days of Napoleon who rather fancied himself as a latter day Roman emperor. The wonderfully camp statue below is in Bastia the capital of northern Corsica. Napoleon was born in Ajaccio, the capital of southern Corsica – is it possible that Bastia was taking the mickey out of their rival’s favourite son?

Napoleon in a toga, Bastia

Planning the Paris Arc de Triomphe started in 1806 but it was not completed until 1836 by which time some of the shine had come off Napoleon’s triumphs. That did not deter the Parisians, nor indeed many others, as where Paris led the rest followed. St Petersburg has one (1829), as has New York (1892) and Mexico City (1938). London hopped on the bandwagon early, the Wellington Arch in Green Park dates from 1826 - though before I began researching triumphal arches I had never heard of it.

Modern Arches pre-1900

For 20th and 21st Century Arches, see Part 2

So, in order of construction....

The Corinthian Arch, Stowe, Buckinghamshire

Built 1765 Visited 30th July 2014 and subsequently

United Kingdom

The Napoleonic era may have re-invented Triumphal Arches, but my first example is an outlier. Built 4 years before Napoleon was born, it was a product of the 18th century fascination with everything classical, even when they misunderstood the context.

The Temple Family became rich from sheep farming. In 1683 Sir Richard Temple started building the first Stowe House. His son, who married into more wealth and became Lord Cobham started work on the garden. Over the next few generations as they married into more and more wealth, and acquired more names and more titles, they built one of the finest houses and the finest garden of its type in England.

And a great garden needs a great entrance. The Corinthian Arch was built in 1765 at the end of the long drive.

The Corinthian arch at Stowe, photographed from half way down the drive

Visiting great gardens was popular in the 18th century, but the casual visitor did not enter through the arch, they were diverted via the family’s New Inn. The same is true today, the road swings right to the National Trust car park behind the (not so) New Inn. Once inside, you can approach the arch on foot.

The Corinthian Arch, Stowe

The arch represents a triumph over the ‘little people’ – anybody who had less money than the Temples – which was just about everyone. Arrogant and high handed they kept on spending and in 1848, four generations after they had been the richest family in the country, Richard Plantagenet Temple-Nugent-Brydges-Chandos-Grenville (I said they collected names!) eventually spent them into bankruptcy. The rest of the British aristocracy smirked quietly.

Arcul de Triumf, Chişinău

Moldova

Built 1841 Visted 24th June 2018

The modest capital of Moldova has an appropriately modest triumphal arch, 13m high and sporting a clock that would not look out of place on a railway station.

Arcul de Triumf

There were 12 Russo-Turkish Wars, the first 1568-70 and last World War One which ended the Ottoman and Russian Empires. Designed by Luca Zauşkevici the arch commemorates the Russian victory in the 1828-9 version of this fixture. It was built to house a 6.4t bell made from melted down Ottoman cannons originally intended for the cathedral bell tower (the predecessor of the one in this picture), but it would not fit. It strikes the hour with a rather unmusical ‘dunk’.

Arc de Triomf, Barcelona

Spain

Built 1888 Visited 29th March 2008

A whimsical piece of modernista architecture with Islamic-style brickwork, Barcelona’s Arc de Triomf was designed by Josep Vilaseca and built in 1888 as the entrance to the Barcelona World Fair.

Arc de Triomf, Barcelona

The arch represents no military triumph, real or imagined, and the sculpture on the front frieze is called Barcelona rep les nacions (Barcelona welcomes the nations). It was a marginal inclusion under the previous criteria, but I felt it represented an altogether healthier expression of national (in this case Catalan) pride than any of the other Arcs de Triomphe.

Bluebells in Dockey Wood and the Pitstone Windmill

A Spectacular Display of Bluebells and a Venerable Windmill

30/04/2016

Dockey Wood

Buckinghamshire

We headed south to Buckinghamshire to help celebrate our daughter’s birthday and it was her idea to visit Dockey Wood.

Late April/early May is bluebell season, and there are colonies in most woodlands, but in Dockey Wood they are particularly spectacular.

Bluebells, Dockey Wood

The wood is part of the National Trust’s Ashridge Estate which straddles the Hertfordshire/Buckinghamshire border on the dip slope of the Ivinghoe Hills, covering 20km² of woodland, common land and chalk downs.

Normally the public has free access to the whole estate and controversy has surrounded the NT’s decision to make a small (£3) charge for entry to Dockey Wood for this and next weekend, after which the bluebells will be gone. I can appreciate their reasoning; the woods are understandably popular at this time of year and the numbers need managing.

Bluebells, Dockey Wood

The charge applies form 10am to 4pm. We turned up at 4.30 as the car park was emptying and paid nothing – and the woods were far less crowded.

Bluebells, Dockey Wood

This blog is about places rather than people and welcomes visitors from all over the world, most of whom do not know me personally. Perhaps, then, it is an inappropriate place for a family photograph, but I like this one and so may the substantial minority of visitors who are 'family & friends'.

Family photo, Dockey Wood

01/05/2016

The Pitstone Windmill

The conjoined villages of Ivinghoe and Pitstone lie to the north of the hills and Pitstone Windmill sits in a field nearby.

You are now entering Pitstone

We strolled there in watery Spring sunshine that was pleasantly warm - at least in sheltered spots. Windmills are, unsurprisingly, built where there is wind and on the open ground we felt a steady breeze with a keen cutting edge.

Pitstone Windmill and Ivinghoe Beacon

Built in 1627, though parts of it might be older (and the restored parts younger!) the mill was originally also owned by the Ashridge Estate. Seriously damaged in a storm in 1902, the ruin was sold to a local farmer in 1922 who donated it to the National Trust in 1937. Renovation began in 1963 and was carried out by a group of volunteers.

Pitstone Windmill

It is a post mill, the upper wooden section designed to rotate on a central post to catch the best wind. Although the milling machinery inside is kept in working order, the wooden section can no longer turn.

Pitstone Windmill and the wheel that once helped it turn

Ivinghoe is a short distance away across the fields, the 13th century church of St Mary being the most obvious landmark.

Ivinghoe

Update 14/05/2016

Windmill Day 2016

The 14th of May was Windmill Day and along with out grandson and other children, parents and grandparents of the local school - not forgetting the staff, who turn out (unpaid) on a Saturday as teachers so often do - we went to see Ben the Windmill, as he has been christened and had a look inside.

Two sets of millstones, Pitstone Windmill

Belts and gear, inside the Pitstone Windmill

The post on which the mill used to turn to face the wind

West Wycombe

A Post Intended to be about the Village, but Sir Francis Dashwood Took it Over

Introduction

Buckinghamshire

I think I can legitimately boast that I have done a bit of travelling. Recent journeys are detailed in this blog but there were many more in the decades before blogs - or the internet - existed.

But it was not always like this. I was born in 1950 and for many years holidays meant two weeks with my grandmother in Porthcawl on the South Wales coast. The drive from Iver in Buckinghamshire to Porthcawl, Google tells me, is 157 miles and takes 2½ hours. Back then, when there was no Severn Bridge (it opened 1966) and no motorways, the journey was 180 miles and took over five hours.

From 1951(ish) to 1958 my father owned a grey Standard Vanguard, very similar to this one
(Credit to Wikipedia and Redsimon for the picture)

The first of several bottlenecks was High Wycombe. Just beyond the town on a bare hilltop above the village of West Wycombe was a church with a large golden ball perched on its tower. My mother would mutter something about the 'Hellfire Club' in an appropriately disapproving manner and then say, 'We must go there someday.'

The Hellfire Caves

We never did, but now, over half a century later, I have. The church is still there, though trees have grown up to partially hide it, the road through West Wycombe is still designated as the A40, though it is no longer a trunk road, and the child who bickered with his sister in the back of a Standard Vanguard went grey long ago.

St Lawrence's Church is now hidden by trees, but the golden ball is still there

The Hellfire Caves, lower down the hill, were built between 1748 and 1752. A run of bad harvests threatened starvation and Sir Francis Dashwood, the 2nd Baronet Dashwood, who owned pretty much all there was to own in West Wycombe, saved the day by personally paying the destitute to mine chalk and flint to rebuild the road from West Wycombe to High Wycombe.

Humanitarian as his motives may have been, it would have been cheaper and easier to use the hillside as a quarry than to laboriously scrape out 500m of tunnels linking some seven or eight chambers. And why finish it with a Gothic entrance?

Entrance to the Hellfire Caves, West Wycombe

Sir Francis Dashwood and the 'Hellfire Club'

Like many rich young men of his time Sir Francis Dashwood finished his education with a Grand Tour. Between 1726 and 1731 he visited Italy, Russia and the Ottoman Empire and earned a certain notoriety, not least by attempting to seduce the Tsarina Anne while in Russia. He developed an interest in the religious practices of classical time and a profound disrespect for the Catholic Church.

The Hellfire Caves
500m of tunnels laboriously hacked out by hand

In 1746 along with John Montagu, 4th Earl of Sandwich (and the man who first stuck a slice of meat between two pieces of bread) he founded the Knights of St Francis of Wycombe, dedicated to the veneration of Bacchus and Venus. The knights met at Medmenham Abbey a little way along the Thames from West Wycombe, and seemed to enjoy dressing up, mock rituals and of course the more practical applications of the worship of gods of wine and love. Gentlemen were encouraged to bring lady guests who should be 'of cheerful, lively disposition, to improve the general hilarity '(wanton scarlets, I'll be bound).

In time the club became known as the Hellfire Club. Stories of Black Masses and Satanic rituals began to circulate but they were probably just stories, the members merely had a healthy interest in sex and alcohol (drugs and rock 'n' roll not yet being available). With their understandable aversion to record keeping it is not known who participated in these meetings, but references in correspondence suggest John Wilkes, the radical journalist and politician, was associated with the club, as were engraver William Hogarth and American polymath and diplomat Benjamin Franklin.

To reach the club room guests had to cross an underground stream, the River Styx
Hellfire Caves, West Wycombe

The association of the Hellfire Club with the Hellfire Caves is problematic. It is believed that one or two meetings may have taken place there but much of the association with the caves was made later and probably to promote tourism. But the question remains: ‘Why build the tunnels and the entrance?

Deep in the caves the Hellfire Club is still in session - at least in effigy

I am far from averse to a boozy dinner, but walking through the caves on a warm summer's day was a decidedly chilly experience and I would hesitate to accept a dinner invitation which came with the instruction 'wrap up warm'. A roaring fire might solve the problem, but I doubt the caves have sufficient ventilation. The alcoves off the dining hall were allegedly curtained off for amorous activities but although they could be made comfortable, if not spacious, they could not be made warm, a serious disincentive to the removal of clothing. I suspect, though this is only my hunch, that Sir Francis Dashwood built the caves with his club in mind, but found they did not suit.

West Wycombe Hill

We left the caves and warmed up by climbing West Wycombe Hill.

Lynne climbing West Wycombe Hill

On the way we had a view down the dead straight road to High Wycombe built using the contents of the caves. I suspect it has been rebuilt several times since and the traffic lights are probably not Georgian.

The long straight road to High Wycombe built by Sir Francis Dashwood

We could also see West Wycombe Park, the home of Sir Francis Dashwood.

West Wycombe Park

The Dashwood Mausoleum

On the top of the hill is the Dashwood Mausoleum. Built in 1765 it was financed by a bequest from a friend and is a vanity project if ever there was one. The satirist Paul Whitehead, who had been Club Secretary, left his heart to Sir Francis Dashwood when he died in 1774. The incinerated remains were kept in an urn in the mausoleum, until they were stolen in 1829 – a gift for promoters of tourism who then claimed that his ghost haunted the caves.

The Dashwood Mausoleum, West Wycombe Hill

St Lawrence's Church

St Lawrence's Church behind the mausoleum was built, also by Sir Francis Dashwood, in 1761 though there had been religious buildings on the site since the 7th century. Questions were asked at the time why he should build a church at the top of the hill for the benefit of a village at the bottom of the hill, but it still functions as an Anglican Church, even though a more convenient alternative was built in the village in 1875. The golden ball, 8ft in diameter, can seat six, though what six pople might do in there is a mystery. It is, though, currently closed and I was disappointed to see it was in such poor condition.

St Lawrence's Church, West Wycombe

Lunch in West Wycombe

It was lunchtime, so we descended to the village in search of sustenance. Many of West Wycombe’s buildings, which were constructed between 200 and 400 years ago, are owned by the National Trust and have not been modernised, at least externally.

West Wycombe

The high street is busy and full of parked cars so my photographs do not do it justice. Inevitably it has been used as a film set, most notably in the Importance of Being Ernest in 2002 (Colin Firth, Rupert Everett, Reese Witherspoon) and as Cranford in the television series of the same name.

West Wycombe

Lunch in the George and Dragon, an 18th century coaching inn, was a half of IPA from the Rebellion microbrewery in nearby Marlow and an omelette. It was pricey, as might have been expected, but my bacon and goat's cheese omelette was excellent, the softest and fluffiest I have eaten in ages.

The George and Dragon, West Wycombe

West Wycombe Park: The House

West Wycombe Park was donated to the National Trust by Sir John Dashwood, the 10th Baronet, in 1943, though the Dashwoods retained ownership of the contents. Sir Edward Dashwood, the 12th Baronet, still lives there.

The house is approached through parkland surrounding an artificial lake. In 1698 the estate was bought by Sir Francis Dashwood, the 1st Baronet (and father of ‘Hellfire’ Francis Dashwood) who demolished the existing manor house and constructed the forerunner of the current house. The younger Sir Francis, inspired by his travels in Italy, rebuilt it. It took him 60 years and consequently ‘...encapsulates the entire progression of British 18th century architecture from early idiosyncratic Palladian to Neoclassical...’ (thanks, Wikipedia). It looks a bit of a dog's breakfast to me (noted architectural critic as I am not) with stands of trees cunningly concealing imperfections in symmetry.

The front of West Wycombe Park (which appears to be round the back)

I also have a feeling that houses should have a front and a back and the main entrance, whether you are important enough to use it or not, should be at the front. The entrance to West Wycombe Park feels like it is round the back, though which is back and which front is open to debate.

Lynne sits in the entrance, West Wycombe Park

The guided tour was conducted by a venerable lady who might have been patted on the head as a child by Sir Francis Dashwood himself and seemed to remember every member of the family since. It is a very liveable house, for its date, many of the rooms are manageable in size and unusually well lit.

The ceilings, painted by Giuseppe Bornis, are direct copies from Italian palaces, mainly the Palazzo Farnese in Rome, while the entrance hall ceiling is a replica of a ceiling in Palmyra that had impressed Sir Francis when he visited Syria on the Grand Tour. It is a sad thought that, given the current situation in Palmyra, these copies may be all that survives.

There is some corner cutting: the marble walls of the entrance hall are marble effect wallpaper and, as at Stowe House, the ‘marble’ columns are scagliola.

West Wycombe Park: The Grounds

Like the village, the house and grounds had often been used as a film set. Austenland was filmed here in 2012 as was the forthcoming Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. It has also featured in Downtown Abbey.

The house is surrounded by acres of well-tended greensward dotted with extravaganzas like the Temple of Music on an island in the lake….

Temple of Music, West Wycombe Park

…. and the Temple of Venus. I can only speculate about what Sir Francis intended to do in the cavern beneath the Temple, but it is a dark and dank space, so I expect he did it somewhere else.

Temple of Venus, West Wycombe Park

West Wycombe Park is a less ambitious version of Stowe, its approximate contemporary. The house is much smaller, the gardens have fewer pseudo-classical monuments and the view of the house across the lake is barely Championship compared with Premier League Stowe

West Wycombe Park across the lake
(this is the back, which looks like a front, maybe?)

The Dashwoods, though wealthy, were paupers compared to the Temples of Stowe, but the Temples ran through their fabulous wealth and in three generations went from being richer than the king to the biggest debtors in the land. They were also notoriously arrogant and when they fell few mourned. The Dashwoods have had their ups and downs but they are still here.

I rather like Sir Francis Dashwood. He may have been a rake and a libertine, but he also found time for a serious political career. In 1747 he introduced a bill for poor relief by the commissioning of public works. The bill failed, but he put his money where his mouth was, tunnelling out the Hellfire Caves to save the people of West Wycombe from penury, and he was credited with other humanitarian acts. He was a disastrous Chancellor of the Exchequer for a year in the 1760s but was later a more successful Postmaster General.

For me to criticise a man who enjoyed a good dinner and a glass or three of wine would be immensely hypocritical – and at a time of stifling social conventions when marriage was a business deal, I would not want to judge his horizontal recreations too harshly.

Fun guy - Sir Francis Dashwood in Hellfire Cub Regalia
by Adrien Carpentiers

This post was supposed to be about West Wycombe, but it has almost entirely been about Sir Francis Dashwood, but then he was West Wycombe and to a certain extent he still is. He was a fun guy, but he had his caring side and I am sure he would be pleased, and probably amused, that the villagers he helped in their time of need, today live in a village notable for its affluence.

Buckingham and Stowe

A Trip to Buckingham Waylaid by the Glorious Insanity that is Stowe

To Buckingham

Buckinghamshire

My parents moved to Buckinghamshire when I was five and stayed there fifty years, so it might seem surprising to those who do not know the county that I had never been to Buckingham. Buckinghamshire is long and thin and we lived in the south, a stone's throw from what was then Middlesex and is now Greater London, while Buckingham is in the far north, and there was just no reason to go there; it is not on the way to anywhere, it lost the title of 'county town' to Aylesbury in the eighteenth century and with 12,000 inhabitants it is hardly a major centre of population.

By chance our daughter lives near Aylesbury (a town of little charm where even the duckling connection is only historic) so whilst cat sitting we decided now was the time to visit Buckingham - it was only twenty miles away.

Our arrival was inauspicious, a new suburb under construction south of the town will apparently require an inordinate number of roundabouts and the road works were tedious. Then there was a deviation in the town centre where a road was closed for repairs.

Stowe

Whether Stowe is part of Buckingham is a moot point - the approach road starts within the town but the long straight drive quickly reaches parkland and heads straight for a Corinthian Arch. Disappointingly the road swings right instead of passing beneath it.

The approach to Stowe's Corinthian Arch

The New Inn

In the eighteenth century fashionable people travelled the country to see grand gardens and Stowe, as the National Trust slogan runs, is ‘Gardening on a Grand Scale’. Viscount Cobham was proud of his great estate and wanted to show it off, so in 1717 he built the New Inn to accommodate visitors. Fashions change and the New Inn closed in 1851, but it has recently been restored and now looks as it might have done in its heyday.

Lynne at the New Inn, Stowe

The Corinthian Arch

Beyond the modern reception area, we joined the path behind the Corinthian Arch, and walked down Bell Gate Drive to the estate.

The Corinthian Arch, Stowe

The arch is one of my collection of pre-1900 Triumphal Arches. Click here for that post.

Stowe and the Ups and Down of the Temple Family

From the (not noticeably octagonal) Octagon Lake there is a magnificent view down over the water and up across the sward to Stowe House. This is a garden of landscapes rather than flowers, and over three generations the greatest landscape gardeners of the age, including Capability Brown, spared neither expense nor effort in transforming natural countryside into a fake natural countryside matching the fashions of the day.

Lynne, the Octagon Lake and Stowe House

The Temple family made their money from sheep farming. In 1571 Peter Temple leased the Stowe estate and by 1584 his son could afford to buy both the estate and manor house. The Temples became baronets and grew wealthier and in 1683 Sir Richard Temple started to build the current Stowe House. Like the garden it was worked on over several generations by the greatest architects of the day, including Sir John Vanbrugh and Robert Adam.

His son, also called Richard, was a soldier and politician. He became Viscount Cobham and married into even more wealth. Lord Cobham created the garden, though work continued for a generation or two after him. He was the richest man in England, richer than the king, so cost was no obstacle.

The lakes and walkways are populated by shrines, monuments and temples in classical style. Between the Octagon and Eleven Acre Lakes a cascade is crossed by a bridge bearing an artificial ruin. Ruination can result from malice or neglect and a well preserved ruin, like a Cambodian temple (neglect) or Glastonbury Abbey (malice), is always of interest, but I dislike purpose built ruins. Two have previously appeared in this blog; the chocolate teapot that is Mow Cop and the small temple on the Sandon Estate which is undoubtedly regarded as an aesthetic highlight by the grazing sheep. To me, these say 'more money than sense' and are grounds for questioning the taste of the builder.

The Ruin on the Cascade, Stowe

On a circuitous route to the house we passed the rotunda which houses a copy of the Medici Venus. Much of the garden involves fakery and copies, though occasionally it rises to the heights of 'derivative'.

The Rotunda, Stowe

For two generations the owners failed to produce heirs and the estate passed from uncle to nephew. This, and the family’s tendency to enrich itself by marrying heiresses and collecting their money, titles and names led, in the mid nineteenth century, to Stowe being owned by Richard Plantagenet Temple-Nugent-Brydges-Chandos-Grenville, 2nd Duke of Chandos and Buckingham. While marrying into wealth and climbing the ranks of the peerage from Baron to Viscount, then Earl and finally Duke, they spent as though money were infinite and earned a reputation for arrogance which was unhelpful when the wheels came off. Four generations after Stowe’s owner was the wealthiest man in England, the 2nd Duke of Chandos and Buckingham was the country’s biggest debtor owing £1.5 million. (Well over £100 million by today's standards). An auction of the house contents in 1848 raised a paltry £75,000 so he skipped off abroad leaving the house to deteriorate.

Stowe School and Stowe House

By the 1920s it was facing demolition, but was saved by JF Roxburgh who wanted to found a school and needed a building. Most of the country's great 'public schools' - which are of course not open to the general public - are old foundations; Stowe is probably the only twentieth century foundation among them, but it has been a remarkably successful venture. Well known 'Old Stoics' include David Niven, Richard Branson and George Melly.

Stowe House

The school has outgrown Stowe House, though additions have been sympathetic, but it still uses the old building so only a few rooms are open to the public – Stowe School was closed for the summer, but they were hosting several summer schools.

The Old Library, Stowe House

The Old Library remains a school library. The old books went in the sale of 1858, but the restocked mahogany bookcases still line the walls and look down in bemusement at the reading lamps and laptops of modern library life. The ceiling has been recently returned to its former glory with more gold leaf than we have seen since Mandalay.

The ceiling of the Old Library, Stowe House

The music room has good views over the park and some interesting murals. I do not know who painted the beings with dragon's hind legs, a woman's upper body and wings, but when he decided to balance a vase of flowers their heads did he not think this might be a step too far?

Music Room murals, Stowe House

The Marble Saloon is said to be the masterpiece of Vincenzo Valdrè (I thought I had never heard of him, but I had been looking at his paintings on the ceiling of St Patrick’s Hall in Dublin Castle only a month before). The columns are scagliola made to look like Sicilian jade and the statues are plaster replicas of 'the sort of statues that would have been here'. The design is 'inspired by' (does that mean 'copied from'?) the Pantheon in Rome, but the Marble Saloon is elliptical instead of circular.

The Marble Saloon, Stowe House

This shape caused enormous problems for the builders of the dome and added even more expense - but money is no object to those on the fast track to bankruptcy.

The Dome of the Marble Saloon, Stowe House

The Temple of Ancient Virtue, Captain Grenville's Column and the Temple of British Worthies

Back outside we walked through the park, past the Temple of Easy Ancient Virtue…

The Temple of Ancient Virtues

… and Captain Grenville's Column - there are columns to allsorts of odds and sods dotted around the landscape -….

Captain Grenville's Column, Stowe

…...and down to the Temple of British Worthies, a curving roofless exedra displaying busts of the good, the bad and the ugly. The eclectic selection involves several monarchs (including Alfred the Great - who seems to be stalking us at the moment - and Elizabeth I as the token woman) a couple of pirates (Raleigh, Drake) one or two genuine greats (Shakespeare, Newton) and some who induce the question 'who he?' The name of eighteenth century Whig politician Sir John Barnard has not come winging down the centuries.

Lynne (who is not worthy) [Oh yes I am! L] and the Temple of British Worthies, Stowe

The Gothic Temple and the Palladian Bridge

…Continuing towards the river we caught sight of this monstrosity.

The Gothic Temple, Stowe

…Called the Gothic Temple it was designed by James Gibb in 1741, right at the start of the Gothic Revival. I doubt any Goth, original or revived, would recognise it, though it does seem to foreshadow Hollywood gothic. It is smaller than it looks from a distance and is available as a holiday let - a strange but interesting place to stay.

…Returning to the river we crossed the Palladian Bridge, which has featured in many costume dramas as well as on National Trust membership cards, and made our way back to reception for a cup of tea and a sandwich before making the short drive back into Buckingham.

The Palladian Bridge, Stowe

It is impossible not to be impressed by Stowe, but perhaps not in the way the builders intended. It was the product of great effort and expense over several generations by people who had a lot of money, little sense and even less taste. It is well worth a visit, but is best not taken too seriously.

Buckingham

Nearby, Buckingham's small centre is largely Georgian. In 1725 fire destroyed a third of the town and provoked much rebuilding.

The White Hart, Buckingham

Market Square and Gaol/Museum

The market square has several jarringly modern shop fronts but is dominated by the town gaol. The gothic-style building was erected in 1748 and paid for by Viscount Cobham. The rounded front was added by George Gilbert Scott in 1839. Sir (as he became in 1871) George Gilbert Scott was a local boy who made good and designed, among much else, the Albert Memorial.

Buckingham Old Gaol

Having lost the status of ‘county town’ it was hoped the refurbished gaol would help keep the county assizes in Buckingham, but they followed everything else down the road to Aylesbury.

The gaol was later used as a police station, a fire station, an armoury, an antiques shop and a café before becoming the town museum in 1993. The cells now house an interesting exhibition covering local history, rural life and the Buckinghamshire Military Trust.

The cells, Buckingham Old Gaol

On the ground floor around the worryingly small exercise yard, once open to the sky but today rather hot under its modern roof, is an exhibition of the life and times of Flora Thompson, writer of, among other things, Lark Rise to Candleford. The book, and to a lesser extent the recent television series, was partly autobiographical. Flora Thompson was born Flora Timms (the heroine of Lark Rise was called Laura Timmins) in 1876 in the hamlet of Juniper Hill (fictionalised as Lark Rise) just 8 miles from Buckingham. Candleford is based partly on the larger village of Fringford, and partly on Buckingham. The exhibition includes a collection of costumes from the show.

Flora Thompson's typewriter

Buckingham Chantry Chapel

George Gilbert Scott also designed Buckingham’s workhouse, which has been demolished, and made 'improvements' – as was the Victorian wont - to the church and to the fifteenth century Chantry Chapel, the oldest building in the town. A chantry chapel is one built and endowed for the purpose of saying masses for the dead to speed them through purgatory. It is now a Quaker meeting house and part time second-hand book shop and cafe. Manned by volunteers its opening hours are limited, indeed it closed fifteen minutes before we got there.

The Chantry Chapel, Buckingham

So now I have been to Buckingham. Stowe apart, there is not much to see, but I am glad we made the effort - and the town has some pleasing corners.

A pleasing corner of Buckingham

Just out of the picture to the right is a modern terrace, built in the same red brick and designed to blend in with the older buildings (an idea that never crossed the planners minds in nearby Dunstable).