Edward VII

by Catharine Arnold

  Just before Daisy’s eighteenth birthday, she was summoned to Windsor Castle, “that I might be inspected as a future daughter-in-law.”23 This was an alarming prospect for even the most sophisticated young ladies, with a dismal protocol that dictated that the guests spend three-quarters of an hour shivering in a drafty corridor before dinner at eight-thirty. Dinner was “served with hot haste” as Lord Rosslyn, a favorite of the queen, did his best to amuse her.24 The dinner was also significant for another reason. It was here that Daisy first encountered Bertie, her senior by twenty years. Daisy said nothing of this first meeting in her memoir, apart from the fact that Bertie had inherited his mother’s “ingenuous, charming smile.”25 After dinner, Queen Victoria, who reminded Daisy of her old nurse, came over to talk. “How did I like the idea of coming out? Was I fond of music or of drawing?”26 This interview was an ordeal, as the agonizingly shy Daisy struggled to respond to the queen’s questions, despite the fact that these were softened by the gleam of the rare smile.

  In December 1879, Daisy celebrated her eighteenth birthday with a magnificent ball at Easton Lodge. Daisy would not, of course, be officially “out” in society until she had been presented at court, but this lavish occasion would mark her debut as one of the most beautiful and sought-after heiresses of the day. The ball was so magnificent that a top hairdresser was brought down from Knightsbridge, London, to attend to the wigs of the footmen.27

  The following February, Daisy was invited to visit Prince Leopold at Claremont, his country estate, in the hope that the meeting might lead to the longed-for proposal. And indeed, “one afternoon, the Prince opened his heart to me,” Daisy breathlessly confides. But the prince did not say the words that Daisy had expected to hear. Instead, Prince Leopold confessed that he was in love with someone else, and that he had guessed how Brookie felt about Daisy, and indeed how Daisy felt about Brookie. It emerged that Prince Leopold had fallen in love with the German Princess Helena of Waldeck-Pyrmont, a kindly young woman celebrated for her warm heart, keen intelligence, and charitable work.28 Prince Leopold offered to explain this all to his mother, the queen, and to ensure that Daisy would be able to marry Brookie. Daisy and the prince talked for hours, telling the footman who attempted to come in to pull down the blinds and light the lamps to come back in ten minutes. The poor footman was left to come and go for over an hour while Daisy and Leopold made their plans.29

  The following day, although it poured with rain, Daisy and Brookie went out for a walk together. “Under a large umbrella, on the muddy road between Claremont and Esher, he proposed to me” wrote Daisy. “And I accepted.”30 When they returned to the house, Prince Leopold was waiting at the front door, full of genuine delight at their happiness. There was just one problem: as it was considered inappropriate for young ladies to become engaged before “coming out,” the engagement must remain secret.

  In March 1880, Daisy was presented at court in a gown of silver tissue.31 Daisy was that rare thing, “as rare as any oiseau bleu a great heiress and a great beauty. Only those who were alive then know the magic that word held for the period. I was physically fit, unspoilt, and I adored dancing.”32 Daisy’s parents rented 7 Carlton Gardens (now part of the Carlton Club) and Daisy was fêted, feasted, courted, and adored, in one continual round of gaiety. Daisy attended balls thrown in her honor where she floated through “fairy palaces, where lovely beings in diaphanous frou-frous of tulle or chiffon swayed in the grace of the rhythmic waltz … [which] never failed to make me thrill and pulsate in an abandonment of young ecstasy.”33

  At this point, Queen Victoria believed that Daisy was still potential daughter-in-law material. So did Disraeli, Lord Beaconsfield. But in May 1880, against the wishes of her mother, Daisy officially rejected Prince Leopold as a potential suitor. When Daisy’s engagement to Brookie was announced the following month, the queen was angered by the news, as indeed was Disraeli, disappointed to see his matchmaking thwarted. But Prince Leopold also got his own way. He married Princess Helena in 1881 and they enjoyed a brief but happy marriage before Leopold’s untimely death in 1884.

  When Daisy developed measles that summer of 1880, the wedding was postponed until the following April. On a day welcomed by one guest who declared that “Henceforth, this beautiful Daisy will flourish by a brook-side”34 the couple were married at Westminster Abbey. The streets leading from 7 Carlton Gardens to the abbey were lined with hundreds of well-wishers, celebrating “the most brilliant wedding of a dozen seasons.”35 Guests, including the Prince of Wales and Prince Leopold, who had volunteered to be Brookie’s best man, crushed into the abbey from the choir to the door. Daisy had no less than twelve bridesmaids, whose names read like a digested version of Burke’s Peerage.

  A day later, the bride and groom were commanded to dine with the queen at Windsor Castle, and, as was the custom at that period, Daisy was required to wear her wedding dress, “orange blossom and all!”36 for her first official dinner as a married lady. The shy bride was already mortified with self-consciousness by the time the queen asked if she could take a spray of orange blossom from Daisy’s corsage as a souvenir.37 But Queen Victoria went out of her way to be kind to the young newlywed, saying “many charming things about the beauty of my frock.”38 Indeed, so charmed was the queen that she asked Daisy to have a photograph taken of herself wearing her wedding dress.39 Daisy had clearly made an excellent impression on the queen, despite her refusal to marry Prince Leopold.

  However, this genuine goodwill on the part of the queen was severely tested the following year. Daisy and Brookie were invited to dinner and to spend the night at Windsor Castle. Headstrong Daisy, who planned to go hunting, tried to postpone the engagement, reminding the queen that Brookie would be away fishing in Ireland. Daisy’s objection was batted away as the excuse it so obviously was, and Daisy was instructed to attend the dinner on her own. Daisy was furious, as she had a horse running in the Essex Hunt races the following day, and she had planned a morning’s fox hunting first. The train times between Windsor Castle and Essex were prohibitive, and it seemed impossible to get away from Windsor in time to attend the hunt meet at eight o’clock in the morning.40

  Carefully, Daisy made her plans. The dinner at Windsor was to be a quiet affair, just six guests with the queen and Princess Beatrice. The custom was that the following morning, guests would depart from Windsor on a specific train, with a lord-in-waiting to see them off. As this train would leave too late to allow Daisy to arrive at the hunt meet in time, Daisy rose early and put on her hunting clothes, including her coat of “pink,” “a fashion innovation of my own.”41 Hunting “pink,” the distinctive red jacket worn on the hunting field, was reserved for men. Women habitually wore black, with a black top hat. By dressing in a coat normally worn only by male riders, Daisy revealed a characteristic streak of vulgarity. She had ordered a carriage to take her to the station to catch an earlier train, much to the irritation of the lord-in-waiting, “Lord C,” who stumped downstairs yawning to see her off, scandalized by this breach of protocol and Daisy’s pink hunt coat. Daisy caught her train on time and had a “splendid day’s hunting” before heading off to the Essex races, where her horse won the cup.42 But Daisy’s escapade had not gone unnoticed. The queen, always an early riser, had glanced out of her window that morning to see Daisy clamber into her carriage in her bright pink coat. The queen was less than impressed. “How fast! How very fast!” she muttered to her lady-in-waiting.43 The queen’s verdict was prescient.

  As the hunting jacket reveals, Daisy was not the sort of wife to bow to convention. Strong-willed, beautiful, impulsive, Daisy had only one person to please in her life, and that was herself, and she soon took up her place in what she referred to as “the social pageant” in a characteristically lavish and flamboyant manner. In 1882, Daisy and Brookie settled at Easton Lodge, as its attractions rivaled those of Brookie’s more modest Warwick Castle. At Easton, “we entertained shooting-parties and friends … my husband was one of the best shots of
the day.”44 The couple also rented a furnished house in London for the season. Daisy moved with ease between the two main groups of society, the court set and the less conventional world of high bohemia. At Lord Wharncliffe’s house in Curzon Street Daisy socialized with Lord Leighton and Edward Burne-Jones, Millais, Watts, and Whistler.45 At Lady St. Helier’s literary salon Daisy met the poets Tennyson, Browning, and Matthew Arnold. Sarah Bernhardt became a friend and was invited to perform Hamlet at Warwick Castle, while another new acquaintance was Lady Florence Dixie, née Douglas, daughter of the 8th Marquis of Queensbury. A headstrong and intelligent woman, Florence enjoyed walking her pet jaguar in Kensington Gardens and later served as a war correspondent during the Boer War, one of the first women to embrace this dangerous occupation. Daisy had moved into a world where the normal rules of social behavior did not seem to apply, but this was something of an illusion. Many of those who were drawn, mothlike, to the glittering world of society had their wings burned, and Daisy would be no exception.

  Chapter Fourteen

  THE HEART HAS ITS REASONS

  He looked at me in a way all women understand.

  —DAISY, COUNTESS OF WARWICK

  From the start of her married life, Daisy regularly witnessed the courtly dance of romantic affairs played out against the backdrops of grand country houses, and longed to be part of it, regardless of Brookie’s feelings. There seems to have been a certain acceptance on Brookie’s part that Daisy was a force of nature who made her own rules. Brookie’s real passions were hunting, shooting, and fishing,1 although given the opportunity, he possessed a keen eye for the ladies. Daisy loved hunting, too, but she found shooting and fishing desperately dull. However, being married to a sporting man was not without its advantages. Brookie’s love of field sports meant that the couple were invited to numerous shooting parties at remote country houses.

  It was in this milieu, as a married woman, that Daisy saw exactly how her contemporaries conducted their affairs. Indeed, it appeared to Daisy that an affair was almost de rigueur, as long as both parties remained discreet. Unfortunately, discretion was one quality of which Daisy was almost entirely devoid.

  Determined to have a little fun of her own, and realizing that country house weekends were the ideal opportunities to bag a lover, Daisy began to cast around for a suitable man for the role. But finding the right individual proved to be more difficult than Daisy expected. On one occasion, Daisy experienced the thrill of “a certain Lord X” professing undying love for her,2 and was very much attracted to him in her turn. But one night at a party Daisy overheard Lord X address Lillie Langtry as “my darling” as he draped her cloak around her shoulders, following the gesture with a request for an assignation. Utterly furious, Daisy resolved that she would never look at Lord X again.3 However tedious the country house circuit might be, Daisy had her standards.

  The Prince of Wales himself should have met Daisy’s exacting criteria in these early days of Daisy’s marriage. Bertie had already made one visit to Easton Lodge, and Bertie and Daisy met again at Eastwell Manor, Kent, home of Bertie’s brother, the Duke of Edinburgh, at a ball thrown in Bertie’s honor. Daisy wore “a ruby velvet dress, en princesse, which was much admired,”4 she recalled, although in hindsight she admitted that it might have been a little dowdy. “The Prince asked me to dance, and sat out a long time talking with me in a corridor, but he doubtless found me shy or stupid, for he spent most of the evening with Mrs Cornwallis-West, then in the zenith of her beauty.”5 Patsy Cornwallis-West was also in the zenith of her affair with Bertie, which is perhaps why Bertie did not trouble Daisy with his advances.

  Having provided Brookie with three children, Daisy succeeded in sticking to her marriage vows, despite her headstrong and impulsive character, until the fateful day when she met Lord Charles Beresford. A close friend of the Prince of Wales, Charlie Beresford was the practical joker who had turned off the oxygen in Louis Battenberg’s cabin while he was belowdecks “inspecting the facilities” with Lillie Langtry.6

  Despite his catastrophic impact, Charlie Beresford appears only once in Daisy’s memoirs. Daisy recalled an incident when she was sitting at Easton Lodge in a large tent that Charlie Beresford had brought back from the Sudan. Daisy’s guest was Sir Donald Mackenzie Wallace, a distinguished linguist and foreign correspondent with The Times, and Daisy had asked if he could translate the writing on the tent walls. Sir Donald shook his head and replied: “You would not sit long in this tent if you knew what is written on these embroideries. I cannot possibly tell it. I might tell it later on to your husband and a few men; I cannot translate it here and now.” Daisy never did get to find out what the embroidery on the tent said. Apparently the text was “too obscene.”7 This brief reference gives no indication of the role played by Charlie Beresford in Daisy’s life.

  Lord Charles Beresford (1846–1919) was Bertie’s former naval aide-de-camp, a decorated war hero, and fourth lord of the admiralty. The son of an Anglo-Irish marquis, Beresford was hugely popular with the British public, who referred to him as “Charlie B” and “John Bull” on account of his pet bulldog. By the age of thirty-seven, Charlie Beresford was as outrageous as ever, much to the discomfort of his long-suffering wife, Mina. Older than Charlie, and physically unprepossessing, Mina had resorted to cosmetics to improve her appearance. This included false eyelashes, one of which was ripped off by a small child who mistook it for a butterfly.8 Exposing a nasty streak, Daisy took great pleasure in humiliating Mina. Daisy loved to recount the terrible occasion when she and Mina drove out in an open carriage and a gust of wind blew off Mina’s hat, taking with it her wig.9

  Charlie Beresford had been a frequent visitor to Easton Lodge from the early months of Daisy’s marriage. London gossips claimed that Charlie Beresford was “positively ‘bewitched’ by” Daisy within weeks of their meeting,10 while Daisy seemed equally smitten with Charlie. Within three years of Daisy’s marriage, they were lovers, much to poor Mina’s consternation.

  Daisy had fallen spectacularly in love, despite the fact that Charlie was fifteen years older. Charlie Beresford was a celebrity, with his irrepressible high spirits, his war record, and the charm that preceded him into the room: it was said you heard the voice before you saw the man. Their affair unfolded with the momentum of an Elinor Glyn story, and with a conclusion more astonishing than anything that the romantic novelist could have imagined.

  As we have seen, Daisy was accustomed to getting her own way. So it was that one morning, while the Beresfords were staying at Easton Lodge, Daisy strode into Mina’s bedroom and told her that she was planning to desert Brookie, abandon their three children, and elope with Charlie.11 Mina’s response to this extraordinary disclosure was measured. Mustering all the hauteur of which she was capable, Mina retorted that “the circumstances of the affair” were already well known in society,12 and that she had no intention of relinquishing her husband. More significantly, Mina said that she was not prepared to sacrifice her husband’s career on such an insane scheme and she was taking Charlie home immediately.

  If Daisy was devastated by this outcome, it came as something of a relief to Charlie Beresford. Charlie’s infatuation with Daisy was fading fast, and any lingering sentiments he may have had were destroyed by Mina’s allegations that Daisy was “not content with his attentions alone.”13 Charlie seemed anxious to move on and consign his relationship with Daisy to the past.

  But not so Daisy. Upon hearing, in 1886, that Mina was pregnant, Daisy flew into a rage. There could be no possibility that the father was anyone but Charlie. Betrayed by her lover, and with his own wife! With insane disregard for her own reputation, Daisy sent Charlie a furious letter, demanding that he leave Mina and join her on the Riviera. In addition, Daisy claimed that Charlie was the father of her oldest daughter, Marjorie, and that he had no right to father a child with his wife.14 This behavior was scarcely calculated to win Charlie back, but as far as Daisy was concerned, Charlie belonged to her, and not to Mina Beresfor
d.

  In a twist of fate, it was not Charlie who opened the letter when it arrived. As Charlie Beresford was away at sea, his mail was opened by a trusted member of the household: Mina.15 Once again Mina demonstrated an impressive level of composure. She immediately passed the letter on to George Lewis, the top London solicitor who was so skilled at keeping controversial cases out of court. Lewis was the obvious choice for a woman of Mina’s social standing. Mina Beresford instructed Lewis to write to Daisy, informing her that the letter was now in Lady Beresford’s possession, and warning her to cease and desist from any further contact with his client. Daisy’s response was predictable; she penned a furious reply to Lewis, claiming that the letter was hers and demanding it back. Lewis responded that, legally, the letter belonged to Charlie Beresford, to whom it had been addressed. Lord Beresford had surrendered the letter to his wife, who had now lodged it with her solicitor, George Lewis.16

  Infuriated by the machinations of these irritating wives and pettifogging lawyers who stood in her way, and facing the prospect of ruin if the matter became public, Daisy realized that there was only one person she could turn to. Only one man had the power, the contacts, and the chivalry to come to the aid of this damsel in distress: Bertie, the Prince of Wales.17 Daisy was by now on good terms with Bertie, dined regularly with him, and had met him at Ascot and Goodwood. More significantly, Daisy was aware that Bertie was sympathetic and wise concerning affairs of the heart. Confident that Bertie would act on her behalf, Daisy wrote to the prince and asked if he would see her.

  Bertie responded immediately, and summoned Daisy to Marlborough House. It was late in the evening, and he received her in his oak-paneled study, a snug, masculine room dominated by an enormous desk littered with books and documents. Daisy, her deep blue eyes brimming with tears, confessed her affair with Charlie Beresford and her impulsive letter to Mina and begged Bertie to come to her aid.