A Visit to the Australian War Memorial

A belated Happy New Year to you!    I hope you all had a pleasant holidays.  For my part, getting back from a month in Australia just before Christmas, and catching up with church and family, meant that I was a bit pooped for a while, but I've had some time to sort through my travel photos and thought that those of you who have never been there would appreciate these images from my trip to the Australian War Memorial.  There are far better pictures on the website, but here are a few.

My partner Joy and I spent December 7, our last day in Canberra, touring the Memorial, which is both a monument and a museum.    I was warned that a day would not be enough time to see it all, and they were right, but we saw enough of it to be deeply moved and impressed.

We arrived early enough in the day that we had the Commemorative Courtyard almost to ourselves.   It is both somber and peaceful, as this photo of the Pool of Reflection under a flawless summer sky suggests.  The domed structure is the Hall of Memory.

The gallery of names, mostly from the Great War, lines one long wall.  A second gallery takes up from the Second World War to the present.  People have placed crepe poppies beside the names of relatives.  Over 102,000 names from all of Australia's wars are preserved here on the bronze walls.

The view from inside the Hall of Memory looking across the courtyard.

From the front steps, looking down the length of Anzac Parade with the Australian Parliament buildings (old and new) visible in the far centre.   One of my enduring memories of Canberra will be its elegant design and these long, sweeping views.

I loved this statue depicting one of the iconic figures of the Gallipoli, John Simpson Kirkpatrick, who landed with a Field Ambulance unit at Anzac Cove and spent the last four weeks of his life evacuating the wounded until he was killed in May 1915.   He was widely known at Anzac as "The Man With the Donkey".

This statue, honouring Australia's war dogs and their handlers, was incredibly moving and reduced Joy, a dog lover with a huge heart, to quiet sobs.

The star of Anzac Hall is this Lancaster bomber, surrounded by large multimedia panels that tell the story of the Australian contribution to Bomber Command.  

Of course I patted the Lanc as I walked underneath it.

There are some lovely Great War aircraft preserved here, including this German Albatross.  Like Canada, Australia's aviation industry has its roots in the aircrew who returned from the Great War, including the founders of Quantas Airlines.

There are some skillful dioramas, including his portrayal of the fighting above and below ground at Lone Pine at Gallipoli.

Australians on the Western Front.  Note the tank in the centre background.

If I am ever fortunate enough to go back to Australia, I will make another pilgrimage here.  There were many exhibits that I barely had time to see, such as the moving account of the Diggers in the Pacific War in places like the Kokoda Trail, which is as much an Australian Iliad as is Gallipoli.  

We ended our day observing the closing ceremony, when the Memorial honours one Australian service member who died in action.  The wreaths laid by the photo of this young lad are from family members, given a place of honour in the brief ceremony, and by members of the diplomatic staffs from the many embassies in Canberra.  Each day's event can be viewed online here.

Standing in the galleries, as a brilliant sun began to set, and listening to the unfamiliar but lovely words of Australia's national anthem, will be an abiding memory.  

"Advance Australia Fair".

MP+

Dux Bookstorum

 

 

This little souvenir is coming home with me from Boston today.   I was strolling around Harvard Yard yesterday, taking in a beautiful early spring day and trying not to get into the selfies taken by (mostly) Chinese families.    I was sort of hoping I wouldn’t stumble across the Harvard University Bookstore, and I didn’t, but off a little side street I came across Raven Used Books (23 Church Street if you’re ever in Cambridge, Mass) and this jumped off the military books shelf.   For $6.95, I thought it a bargain.    It can sit on my rules shelf and perhaps help inspire by Dux Rohirrim project.   Nice to have for the illustrations if nothing else.

The running trails and the Charles River were both busy.

The object of my visit, the beautiful Anglican monastery of St. John the Evangelist, a 1920s era Romanesque building that brings back happy memories of Italy.

As a word of advice to those thinking about visiting a monastery, try and make sure that you stay when it’s pizza night.  The cauliflower and goats cheese pizza was heavenly.

Blessings,

MP+

"We Shall Go to Erfurt": In the Steps of Napoleon

  "We shall go to Erfurt. I want to come back with the freedom to do what I want in Spain; I want to be very precise with Russia regarding our involvement in the Levant. Prepare me an agreement which will satisfy the emperor Alexander, one which above all must be directed against England and in which I shall be at ease regarding the other points. I shall help; we shall not want for prestige.”  Napoleon to Talleyrand

 In my last post I promised a few photos of sites associated with the  1808 Congress of Erfurt, an event that we would describe today as a summit meeting.   Napoleon was looking for a free hand in Europe, and trying to impress Tsar Alexander.  It didn’t work out, because as you know, Napoleon and Alexander never exactly became BFFs.  There’s a good summary of the meeting here.

One of the venues we saw was the Kaiseraal, a concert venue which was used by Napoleon to impress his guests.   The Comedie Francaise was summoned from Paris to stage no less than sixteen plays and performances during the Congress (all series, the Emperor did not want trivial comedies and dramas).  Napoleon complained of the expense of this “mass levy of thespians”, but felt that it was worth it to awe the kings of Europe with France’s glory.  While I was able to sneak into the lobby, and mug with a mannequin of Napoleon in the lobby (fortunately that picture is still on Madame’s camera), I wasn’t able to see anything else.

 

In later years, Paganini and Liszt both performed here.  As you can see from this link, the Kaisersaal is still a pretty swish place today.

Much of the conference took place at the Governor’s Palace in Erfurt.   The building  is actually two, a Baroque-era building on the left and a Renaissance era building on the right (I hope I remembered that correctly), joined in the centre by a newer entrance hall.  Besides Tsar Alexander and the other VIPs of the day, Napoleon and his court would have passed in and out of here, including Soult, Lannes, Berthier, and Davout.  Today this building is used by the government of the German province of Thuringia, so the only people we saw passing in and out were youngish looking bureaucrats.

It was here that Napoleon had his famous meeting with Goethe, Germany’s secular saint of literature and culture.   It’s interesting to think that Napoleon wanted to impress Goethe.  It’s hard today to imagine any world leader going out of his or her way to impress, say, a Nobel prize winning novelist.  I guess cultural legitimacy was as important to Napoleon as political legitimacy was.   Napoleon also wanted to display military legitimacy, and some of his best regiments (6th Cuirassiers, 8th Hussars and of course the Old Guard) drilled and took part in reviews and inspections during the Congress.  A few years later, after the Battle of Nations, these once proud regiments would straggle through Erfurt on their way to the Rhine, little more than a gang of thieves, scandalizing Napoleon (and no doubt the locals) with their conduct.

Speaking of Goethe (and who doesn’t speak of him?), the great man of letters was also a bureaucrat, responsible for managing the important east/west road that went through Erfurt.   He often stayed in this building next store to the Governor’s Palace.

As you can see, Germans still think of Goethe as kind of a big deal.

One more Napoleonic tidbit for you before we bid “Auf wiedersehen” to lovely old Erfurt.  Madame and I were strolling in a lovely park not far from our apartment, when I noticed my map showed something called the “Muffling denkmal” in the same park.   We found this little structure off in a corner.  Why here?   Wikipedia, always a good source for scholars, says that this hero of Waterloo died on his estates near Berlin, but the editor of an early translation of his memoirs reports that the estate was near Erfurt.

The great man, sporting some fine sideburns.   He looks like he was a pugnacious sort of fellow, making me think that the actor in the film Waterloo didn’t quite do him justice.

 

Finally, you may be asking, what were the hobby stores in Erfurt like?   I only saw one.  Didn’t go into it. But what a lovely street, with a ubiquitous church at the end of it.    In Canada we whine and moan about taxes, and consequently many streets in newer developments are built without sidewalks.   I gather the same is true of America.   The Germans don’t seem to have a problem paying for lovely, walkable streets.

Auf wiedersehen!

A Visit to the Citadel Petersberg, Erfurt, Germany

Madame Padre and I returned this weekend after ten all too brief days in Europe, where I was attending a conference.   We decided to make it into a holiday, despite Mdme having just received her first session of chemotherapy.  Her doc assured that she would have no problems,  despite having just had minor surgery to implant a shunt for the delivery of one of her drugs.   Go have fun while you can, doc said, and Mdme, always the feisty one, took up the challenge.  By and large she did beautifully, managing to do quite a bit of walking and sightseeing with plenty of rest periods where she sipped the excellent German coffee and I sipped beer.   A win win, I thought.

My conference was in the Thurnigian town of Erfurt, a medieval university town whose most famous alumnus was Martin Luther.   Erfurt was in the old DDR, and so most of the local residents over 30 speak little English. The town appears to be off the normally traveled tourist routes, which is a pity because Erfurt is a gem of a town  The old town centre survived the war largely intact, and after unification a ton of money was poured into the place. Today it looks clean and unspoilt.   We found lots to do for our week there.

Erfurt has a long association with the Napoleonic Wars.   Most well known is the Congress of Erfurt in 1808, when the Emperor tried to to charm Tsar Alexander into giving him a free hand in Europe.  I have some photos of sites associated with the Congress which I’ll save for a later post.  Today I thought I would offer some photos of our trip to the Citadel Petersberg, which is apparently the best-preserved Vauban-style fortress in an urban area of Europe.

Erfurt’s medieval walls no longer survive, except for this specimen that Mdme. is examining on a disappointingly cold and overcast day.  

 

Map of the medieval walls showing the 17th century Citadel at the top left.  One doesn’t see much English in signs and museum placards in this part of Germany.

The Petersberg Citadel dates from the late 1600s.   It was built on a sizeable hill that dominates the town, and which was occupied by Benedictine monastery.   After the Treaty of Westphalia, Erfurt became subject to the Elector of Mainz, who was given permission to build the citadel.   The Elector employed an Italian architect, Antonio Petrini, and the fortress was finished by 1702.  So, it’s initial function wasn’t to protect Erfurt so much as to oppress the people of Erfurt.   I have all this from the Wikipedia entry thanks to Google Translate, or from history sites such as this one.  One can get tours of the Citadel thanks to Thurinigia Tourism, but they are only offered in German, so my visit was very much self-directed according to scraps gleaned over the internet.  Here’s a few of the Kiiian Bastion, one of the first works to be completed.

Approaching the main gate from the side.   The glass structure visible in this shot is a modern restaurant, which commands an excellent view of Erfurt and the surrounding countryside.

Mdme. Padre kindly demonstrates the height of the walls of one of the bastions.

Just to rub the noses of the burghers of Erfurt in it, the arms of the Archbishop of Mainz are prominently displayed in many places. Erfurt became part of the Kingdom of Prussia in 1802.  The Citadel was slowly improved through the 18th century, and again by the Prussians.

 

In 1806, following their defeat at Jena, a horde of demoralized Prussian soldiers sought shelter in Erfurt.   They were soon followed by Murat’s cavalry, which routed the Prussian rearguard.  Mollendorf, the hero of Leuthen and Torgau, had been wounded at Auerstadt and could not hold the Prussians together.  The Citadel’s commander surrendered to Murat, one of the few times surely when a fortress surrendered to a  force of cavalry.  A sad end to the career of this hero of Prussia.  Mollendorf was captured, and later this old soldier received the Legion of Honour from the Emperor.  

A view of the Peters Gate, the entrance to the Citadel.   The structure on top is modern, and as far as I could tell is used by a local youth group.  The Citadel has no military function today.  Some of the buildings are used as apartments, others for offices, and some are unused and in disrepair.  Sadly, there was no military museum or interpretive centre that we could see.

 

A view of the fortifications flanking the approach to the Peter’s Gate.  With determined troops holding this place and shooting out from these loopholes, storming the gate would have been a painful proposition.  I’m inclined to agree with the author of the Wikipedia article on the surrender of Erfurt:  “Historian Francis Loraine Petre remarked that Erfurt was the first of a series of ‘pusillanimous capitualtions’ by Prussian fortress commanders”.

 

 

 

Standing in the Peter’s Gate looking out.  You can see the two churches on the lesser hill which dominate the Domplatz, the large square at the heart of Erfurt.  Both churches date from the 12th-13th centuries and are absolutely stunning inside.

 

The Peter’s Gate from the inside, showing the portcullis still in place.

 

The Benedictines were kicked out in 1803, and their monastery of St. Peter and Paul became the garrison chapel, the Peterskirche.  It must have been a lovely church in its day, but sadly now is a hulk.  This sculpture survives from happier days - I am guessing it is at least 14th century.

 

Some of the buildings inside the fortress have been restored since the unification of Germany, and some have not.   This is one of the barrack buildings they haven’t gotten around to yet.  It’s interesting to reflect on the troops that would have lived here and paraded in front of it.   Oudinot’s Old Guard would have gone through their paces here to impress Tsar Alexander during the Congress of Erfurt.   Since then, Prussians in the 1800s and Friekorps, Wehrmacht and DDR troops have all been based here.  Today the presence is all civilian.

 

I’m not smart enough to judge the provenance of this artillery piece, but it looks Napoleonic at least.  It is parked in front of the Commandant’s residence, which today, from what I can tell, houses the Thuringian provincial government department that oversees monuments and historical sites.   During World War Two the commandant’s house was the site of a military court.   Political and military prisoners were detained in the Citadel, and today a monument exists to the unknown deserters of the Whermacht.   At least fifty of these were executed in the Citadel.  Another layer of history:  today the Citadel houses the state office responsible for administering the records of the the secret police, the Stasi, from the DDR days.

 By early 1813, Napoleon’s troops were fortifying the Citadel, which was a good idea, because Erfurt became a target after the Battle of the Nations, not too far to the east at Leipzig.  The Erfurt garrison commander was General de Brigade Alexandre Dalton, who refused a demand for surrender from an army of Austrians, Prussians and Russians under Nollendorf.  Dalton’s troops were evicted from the town of Erfurt, which caused much rejoicing among the burghers.   This painting by the mid 19th century historical painter Peter Janssen shows an actual episode, the locals destroying a wooden obelisk built in 1811 in Erfurt’s Angerplatz to honour Napoleon.   Judging from the painting, it wasn’t that sturdy an obelisk, not one of your quality stone jobs.

 

This postcard shows an initial scene of the siege, with the fortress and the heart of Erfurt under shellfire.   The obelisk in the centre right is your genuine stone version, and not the one in the previous image.  It is still there today.  The wooden buildings at the foot of the Citadel are gone now and the square, the Domplatz, is much more open today than it evidently was in 1813.   The two churches on the right, the Cathedral Beatae Virginis (left) and of St. Severis (right) are intact, but the spires on the Peterskirche in the Citadel (right) are gone.

 

Dalton’s garrison abandoned the town and retreated into the Citadel, where they held out until May of 1814, when they were ordered to surrender by the French government.  Looking at the fortress, it’s easy to see why they held out.I saw this framed print on the wall of a cafe on the Domplatz and photographed it.   You can see what a protracted siege it was.  The ruined buildings in the postcard are gone, and have been replaced by extensive dugouts and bomb proofs once the siege lines were established.

This picture from the walls of the Citadel shows what a commanding view the defenders enjoyed, and why all those dugouts were necessary.

 

There is a book on the 1813-1814 siege of the Citadel by a Frank Palmowski.  It is, unfortunately, only in German.  I picked it up in a bookstore in Erfurt, thought about whether the 20 euro price would be an incentive to learn German, and decided, sadly, to leave it behind.  Perhaps German readers may know more about this story, but I found it a fascinating piece of Napoleonica.   If you are ever in the part of Germany, I encourage you to visit this charming little town.

MP+

A Trip To West Virginia and Harpers Ferry

Last week Madame Padre and I got away to West Virginia and stayed at a cabin we found on a travel website called VRBO.  I say cabin but really it was like a hotel, with all the comforts one could want, including wifi and abundant views of the hills covered in fall foliage, at least, when the clouds lifted.   The local countryside has numerous places like this one, set off winding and hilly dirt roads.   Each place, it seemed, had abundant “No Trespassing” signed posted, so when I went for runs, I was always careful to stay on the road.

 

There was a always a hill to run up.

 

 

 

We chose WV because it was half way between our house in Ontario and Kay’s brother and sister who live in the US South.  We arrived a day ahead of them, and went into the nearby town of Berkeley Springs, a pleasant artsy kind of place, which just happened to having a parade to kick off the start of its apple butter festival.   Kay loves a parade.  there were tons of local politicians out campaigning and they all came to offer us pamphlets and sales pitches.  It was very convenient to say that we were from Canada, which got some odd looks.

 

These lovely ladies had something to do with nature.

 

 

And these people were all dressed up as various kinds of apples.   I’m not sure what the cat in the background is all about. 

 

 

As you can see, after 9-11, small US towns have gotten a lot of money for their first responders.

 

 

I have no idea.

 

 

Making apple butter in the town square. 

 

 

After a few days of rain we had a good day and I couldn’t resist suggesting that we go nearby Harpers Ferry for the day.    I was pleased that Kay’s siblings seemed to think it was a good idea, and they had a pretty good day.   This is the second time in a year that I’ve been to a US National Park, and I have to say that the NPS staff do a very fine job.   An NPS ranger gave us an eloquent and polished lecture on the John Brown Raid - he would have been a credit to any university history department.

Part of the preserved town from the Civil War period.  Between the war and the occasional floods that would go half way up these buildings, the folks here had a pretty rough go of it.

 

 

A machine shop with the sort of equipment that was used at the US government armoury.   My brother in law is a mechanical engineer and he was quite intrigued at the idea that this sort of shop could assemble rifles out of any  of standardized mass-produced parts, rather than making each rifle separately.

 

The site where the Firehouse, the site of Brown’s last stand, was originally located.  St. Peter’s, the Catholic church on the hilltop was built before the ACW to minister to the many Irish labourers who worked in the area.  The priest, Fr. Costello, often flew the British flag from the church to protect it from fighting during the several occasions that Harpers Ferry changed hands.

 

 

The firehouse, which was known afterwards as John Brown’s Fort.   In one of those odd details about the Civil War, Robert E. Lee and J.E.B. Stuart led the US Marines that stormed the building and captured Brown.  The building itself has been moved quite a few times since, including once all the way to Chicago for an exhibition, and isn’t exactly in its original condition.  African-Americans treated it as something of a shrine after the ACW. 

 

 

I tried a bottle of the local beer at lunch.   It was pretty rough stuff, I suspect it was made out of coal. 

 

 

I love rivers - Harpers Ferry is where the Potomac and the Shenandoah rivers come together. 

 

 

Harpers Ferry is surrounded by mountains.   Once you stand there and look around for a few minutes, you can understand why the place surrendered during the Antietam Campaign.  Once Jackson got control of the surrounding heights, and got his guns up on them, it was pretty much all over. 

 

 

Get a battery up there and the town’s in trouble.

 

 

It would be an amazing place to tromp around and try to suss out the two day battle that led to the Union surrender.   I’d like to go back and do that one day.   It would also be amazing to try and hike the distance from Harper’s Ferry to the Antietam battlefield , following the route that A.P. Hill’s division took to make its save the day arrival late in the day.  That would be about 17 miles of fast marching to do it in the time that the rebs did.

Highly recommended if you have never visited this part of the country, especially if you want to see a place where the Civil War started, at least before it started officially at Fort Sumter.

Cheers,  MP+