If you love military history, Regency architecture, or simply want to walk through rooms where history was made, Apsley House is unmissable. This magnificent Bath stone mansion was home to Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington, the man who defeated Napoleon at Waterloo and became Prime Minister twice.
Step inside Apsley House to discover how Britain’s greatest military hero transformed a Georgian London townhouse into a palatial shrine to his victories, filled with treasures gifted by grateful monarchs from across Europe.
Practical Information
The Iron Duke and Number One London
Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington (1769-1852) was brilliant, complex and impossibly heroic. Born in Dublin, he began his military career in 1787 and spent decades fighting in India, Spain and France. His victory over Napoleon at Waterloo in 1815 made him the most famous man in Europe.
The house itself was originally built between 1771 and 1778 by the fashionable architect Robert Adam for Lord Apsley, the Lord Chancellor, who gave the house its name. Located at Hyde Park Corner, adjacent to the toll gates at Knightsbridge, it was the first house encountered by visitors entering London from the west. This earned it the popular nickname “Number One, London,” though this was never an official designation.
Richard Wellesley, Arthur’s elder brother, purchased the house in 1807. Together with his French wife, Hyacinthe-Gabrielle, he lavishly furnished and decorated it, employing James Wyatt to make alterations. But by 1817, the couple had separated, and Richard faced bankruptcy.
Enter the Duke of Wellington. After his triumph at Waterloo, Parliament voted to gift him £700,000 to build a new “Waterloo Palace” worthy of the nation’s greatest hero. Instead of commissioning a new building, Wellington submitted an anonymous bid to buy Apsley House for £40,000, helping to resolve his brother’s financial difficulties whilst securing himself a fashionable London base for his growing political ambitions.
Wellington extensively renovated the house in two phases and, in 1830, bought the freehold from the Crown for £9,532. After his death in 1852, Apsley House passed through successive Dukes of Wellington.
In 1947, the 7th Duke gave the house and its most important contents to the nation, whilst retaining the right to occupy part of the building. The Wellington Museum Act 1947 preserves this right for as long as there is a Duke of Wellington. Today, the 9th Duke retains an apartment in the northern half of the ground floor.
What Makes Apsley House Special
Apsley House is one of the last surviving great aristocratic townhouses in central London open to the public (Spencer House is another). Unlike country estates, which have survived in relative abundance, almost all of the grand London townhouses that once lined Piccadilly were demolished to widen Park Lane.
This was never intended as a family home. Instead, it was Wellington’s public face, a grand showcase designed for entertaining heads of state, hosting political dinners, and displaying the spoils of his military victories. The rooms are opulent, theatrical, and designed to impress.
The house is pretty much as Wellington left it. This includes not just the architecture and decoration, but the arrangement of paintings on the walls.
Inside Apsley House
If it’s your first visit to Apsley House, I recommend starting with the small but excellent exhibition in the basement. Here, you can learn more about the Duke of Wellington, and some of his personal effects are on display. These include items associated with his funeral (e.g. death mask, ticket), his false teeth (made from human teeth) and spectacles.
Your entrance ticket includes an excellent multimedia guide, and you can choose between a highlights tour or one focusing on the house’s artworks. There are also helpful information panels in most rooms, and large-print guides to borrow.
I started with the Museum Room on the ground floor, which has been a museum since the 2nd Duke opened it to the public in 1853. This is essentially Wellington’s private treasury, crammed with porcelain services, gold and silver objects, and elaborate gifts from grateful European monarchs.
The Prussian service depicts military scenes from Wellington’s campaigns. I found the vases extraordinary, considering the artists never visited the scenes.
The centrepiece is the Egyptian Service made for Joséphine Bonaparte in 1809 to mark her divorce from Napoleon, later given to Wellington by Louis XVIII of France. The symbolism of owning Napoleon’s ex-wife’s divorce china is not lost on anyone.
Egyptian service
Look also for the massive Waterloo Shield, inspired by Homer’s description of Achilles’ shield, with Wellington in the centre and his ten major campaigns in the surrounding reliefs.
Reaching the Entrance Hall, Antonio Canova’s colossal nude statue of Napoleon as Mars the Peacemaker stopped me in my tracks. Napoleon himself commissioned this statue – never a self-effacing sort – but after his defeat, the Prince Regent bought it and presented it to Wellington.
The irony of the victor displaying a heroic nude statue of his vanquished enemy in his hallway is deliciously provocative. The floor had to be specially reinforced to bear its formidable weight.
Climbing Wyatt’s magnificent wrought iron staircase, I reached the first floor, where the principal rooms are located. On my last visit, the first room housed a small exhibition of Dutch masterpieces from the Wellington Collection.
The State Dining Room was where Wellington held his annual Waterloo Banquets every 18 June, bringing together officers who had fought in the battle. The room displays the centrepiece of the Portuguese Service, a magnificent silver and silver-gilt dinner service presented to Wellington in 1816 by the Portuguese Council of Regency.
From here, you walk into the Striped Drawing Room, created by Wyatt in 1820 from three smaller rooms. This is where Wellington’s guests would relax before or after dining.
Its walls are hung with red-and-cream striped silk, influenced by the Napoleon Room at Malmaison (the former home of Empress Joséphine), and lined with portraits of military figures from the Peninsular and Waterloo campaigns. It’s Wellington’s personal hall of fame.
Among the portraits are three full-length works by Thomas Lawrence, including the iconic portrait of Wellington. The Iron Duke’s dress uniforms are displayed in a case in the centre of the room. He famously dressed in civvies in battle but would wear these fine togs at his annual dinner.
Duke of Wellington, Thoams Lawrence (1814)
- Duke of
Wellington’s military uniform
The Yellow Drawing Room retains its original Adam marble fireplace but was redecorated in the fashionable 1820s colour scheme. Stop to take a look at Canova’s Ideal Head and the Annunciation by Marcellus Coffermans, but the artistic star of this room is Danae by Titian.
Yellow Drawing Room
Ideal Head, Antonio Canova (gifted in 1818)
Annunciation, Marcellus Coffermans
(active 1549-1578)Danae, Titian (1553)
But the pièce de résistance is the Waterloo Gallery, where I spent the most time. Completed in 1830, this double-height room runs 90 feet along the west front of the house, with seven enormous windows overlooking Hyde Park. The windows have sliding shutters fitted with mirrors, inspired by the Galerie des Glaces at Versailles.
It is one of the great palatial interiors in Britain, and where Wellington held his Waterloo Banquets after 1830, seating 74 guests instead of the 36 who could fit in the State Dining Room. Queen Victoria recorded in her journal attending the banquet in 1842, noting that Prince Albert went in uniform.
The paintings displayed here are extraordinary. After the Battle of Vitoria in 1813, Wellington captured 165 paintings from the baggage train of Joseph Bonaparte, Napoleon’s brother, who had been installed as King of Spain. When Ferdinand VII was restored to the Spanish throne, Wellington offered to return them. The king told him to keep them as a gift from Spain for liberating his country.
The collection includes masterpieces by Velázquez, Rubens, Correggio, van Dyck, Murillo, Goya and many others. Wellington and I share a favourite: Correggio’s Agony in the Garden.
Other highlights include Velázquez’s Water Seller of Seville and Pope Innocent X, a copy of the portrait hanging in Galleria Doria Pamphilj in Rome.
Waterseller of Seville, Velazquez (1620)Pope Innocent X, Velazquez (1650)
The Piccadilly Drawing Room features Robert Adam’s original elaborate plaster ceiling, frieze and marble chimneypiece, though the colour scheme reflects the 1820s refurbishment. The romantic theme suggests this may have been intended as a ladies’ drawing room in Adam’s original design.
Why I Love Apsley House
What makes Apsley House so special to me is that it shows us how Britain celebrated its greatest military hero. This is not a modest man’s modest home. It is a palace built from gratitude, filled with treasures that represent the thanks of an entire continent.
Every room tells the story of his campaigns, his victories, and his place in European affairs. This London historic house is a three-dimensional autobiography, written in stone, gilt and oil paint.
But there’s also something deeply human about Apsley House. Wellington walked through these rooms and dined at these tables.
The annual Waterloo Banquets weren’t just ceremonial occasions; they were gatherings of men who had survived the most famous battle in European history. As the years passed and the survivors dwindled, those banquets must have become increasingly poignant.
Where Strawberry Hill House represents Gothic fantasy and Marble Hill embodies Palladian restraint, Apsley House is Regency grandeur at its most triumphant. This is power, victory and gratitude made manifest in architecture and art.
About Bridget
Bridget Coleman has been a passionate traveller for more than 30 years. She has visited 70+ countries, most as a solo traveller.
Articles on this site reflect her first-hand experiences.
To get in touch, email her at hello@theflashpacker.net or follow her on social media.