When Prince Henry returned to England in July after his mission to Japan, he had several months free with no employment. He was appointed a personal ADC to the king, but since he had no regimental duties he was placed on half pay of eleven shillings and one penny per day.58 With Beryl now free of all strings and the prince himself at a loose end, the couple were able to be together a great deal and were anything but discreet. According to journalist James Fox, when the prince took her to the races Beryl tied ribbons in HRH’s racing colours to her dog’s collar, and the prince hired a pony cart drawn by a Shetland pony and sent cartloads of white flowers to the Royal Aero Club in Piccadilly where Beryl had been staying since she left Mansfield.59
Beryl introduced Prince Henry to her circle of friends at the London Aeroplane Club60 and he decided he would like to learn to fly. This caused ripples of concern in royal circles because neither Prince Henry nor his brother Prince George (who also wanted to learn to fly) held commissions in the RAF and it was felt that there might be some criticism if they were to learn in RAF machines. Eventually however a private aeroplane was purchased in which both princes were taught. Prince Henry subsequently soloed in 1930.61
Meanwhile Beryl’s royal romance had begun to cause Mansfield such embarrassment and annoyance that he could no longer tolerate it. Towards the end of 1929, acting on the advice of his elder brother, Sir Charles, he approached his solicitors in London armed with the packet of love letters, and advised them that he intended to divorce Beryl, citing Prince Henry as correspondent. Although the Markham family believe that a petition was actually lodged, there is no evidence that this is so, and Cockie Hoogterp, whose brother Ulick was Keeper of the Privy Purse at the time,62 says that her brother told her that it merely reached the stage of a threat. Beryl, questioned in 1986, remained as discreet as ever, and claimed it was all so long ago she could not remember. The solicitor who, according to the present Sir Charles Markham, handled the matter for Mansfield, died on the very day that I contacted him.63
What is known is that Sir Charles Markham (Mansfield’s elder brother and the titular head of the Markham family) was hastily summoned to the palace to be interviewed by Queen Mary, who told him very severely that it would not do. ‘One simply could not cite a Prince of the Blood in a divorce petition.’64 However, Mansfield was understandably reluctant to maintain his wife when she was seen everywhere with the duke, and the pair provoked almost constant gossip in society. His response therefore was that unless some satisfactory settlement could be reached, and quickly, he was going ahead with the divorce proceedings with the implication that the prince would be charged with enticement and Mansfield would sue for appropriate damages.65
The law in England at that period did not cater for amicable divorces. Apart from desertion, adultery was the only acceptable way out of an uncongenial union. Under the rules of play, the gentleman concerned usually provided the evidence in a situation where a woman (usually met only once for this specific purpose, which was known as collusion) would be seen by hotel staff who were prepared to swear that the two had spent the night together. The problem with this arrangement was that unless the wife was proven to be ‘the guilty party’ the husband had, necessarily, to continue to support her, and this Mansfield was clearly not prepared to do.
It is not difficult to imagine the concern and distress that Mansfield’s decision caused the queen. A divorce case involving the prince would have caused an almighty scandal. Further, the implication was that after the divorce, Beryl would be free to marry Prince Henry – indeed in such a situation he would have been almost obliged to consider marriage to her. The prince was third in line of succession to the throne, and such a possibility must have lurked heavily behind all the discussions. Divorce still carried the stigma of social disgrace in England and it was inconceivable that the action should be allowed to continue. And of course it did not.
The conjectures about the actual amount settled on Beryl by the palace, so that she would no longer represent a financial burden to Mansfield, have been many and various. That such a settlement was made has never been in doubt. Various pieces of documentary evidence were produced by interviewees during research for this book, which showed that Beryl received an annuity from 1929 until her death, and this annuity is traceable to a single source.66
Informants close to palace circles had actually discussed the matter with members of the royal family, and Cockie Hoogterp confirmed that her brother told her of the matter.67 In the main, though, informants requested anonymity, and in one case, though the informant did not specifically ask for anonymity, it would be irresponsible to divulge the name.68 A woman friend who had looked after Beryl’s financial affairs during her illness some years ago told me of her ‘surprise that the monthly amount was so small, given the speculation I had heard over the years…everyone thinks she got a fortune out of it.’69 Cockie Hoogterp’s brother Ulick, who as Keeper of the Privy Purse must have been involved in the transaction itself, told her that Queen Mary had insisted that a sum of £15,000 be set aside for the matter. The Markham family were sure that £10,000 was the sum involved. Many other informants stated that they knew the full story – the amounts varying in each case from £10,000 upwards, and one well-placed informant suggested it was nearer £30,000.
It is clear that gossip and speculation over the years are responsible for the fog of misinformation that surrounds Beryl’s story. Many thought that Beryl was on the Civil List70 but this is not so. Others thought she had been bought off with a substantial capital sum and annual payment, on condition that she never returned to live in England. Again, incorrect. After Beryl’s death in 1986, through the kindness of Beryl’s executor, I was privileged to have sight of the contract.
Cockie Hoogterp’s recollection of events was in fact very nearly accurate. The capital sum involved was £15,000 – a generous sum in those days – but it was Prince Henry himself, not his mother, who provided the money. The trust was administered by a firm of solicitors but although the prince is not named in the contract (which is signed by Beryl and a solicitor), a handwritten note dated 1939 on the back of the document makes it clear that it was Prince Henry who had provided the necessary funds.
The capital sum was used to create a trust based on bonds with a fixed-rate return, providing an annuity which was paid into Beryl’s account each year from December 1929 until her death in 1986. The annual figure that Beryl actually received appears modest by today’s standards, though it would have been quite sufficient to maintain a certain style in 1929, particularly in Kenya, where doubtless those most nearly concerned with the prince’s reputation heartily wished she would return with utmost speed. In 1982, during a period of severe financial hardship, the annual amount was increased temporarily. The informant who thought the initial capital sum was £30,000, an old and much-loved Kenya settler, stated: ‘It was increased from £2000 a year…and you don’t starve on £2000 a year, do you?’ But in fact it was something less than half that sum (about £750) and inflation had reduced its value to a level which, with the greatest care, might provide for the running costs of a modest car.
The arrangement did not cease on any subsequent marriage entered into by Beryl, and it was for the entire period of her life. No formal conditions of any kind were imposed, though it is possible that some verbal promises were made. At any rate it meant that Mansfield was absolved from maintaining Beryl ever again.
When shortly afterwards, the Prince of Wales arrived in Kenya for a second royal safari he told Cockie von Blixen (formerly Birkbeck) that he was delighted by the affair between his brother and Beryl. Until then, Prince Henry had been held up by the king and queen as a shining example, and he himself was seen as the black sheep, so far as his relationships with the opposite sex were concerned.71
Beryl herself, when I interviewed her in 1986, did not wish to discuss this matter, although she was completely frank about other aspects of her life story. She said she did not remember anything at all about the arra
ngement, only that she did receive money from ‘some nice person in England’. However she was happy to talk about Prince Henry. ‘He was such fun. I think he liked me because I was so different to all the others’ – an understatement of classic proportions! When Beryl’s remarks were repeated to a friend in England who knew the couple in 1929, the friend retorted, ‘God bless her! Is that really what she said? No wonder he liked her if she thought he was fun. She was probably the only person who did…He was a frightful bore.’72 But actually Beryl was not the only person who thought so. Beryl’s executor recalled being told by a fellow officer of the prince that as a young man ‘Prince Henry was full of charm and fun. He was very popular with the ladies, not because of who he was, but because of what he was.’ He certainly cut a popular figure among the hunting fraternity at Melton where his dashing riding and open friendliness is remembered to this day.73
Presumably some pressure was brought to bear. Both parties would have no doubt been advised that their relationship, if it were allowed to continue at all, must become more discreet. In February 1930 Beryl returned sadly to Kenya – not, apparently, at her own wish. ‘Beryl came out here on Friday,’ Tania Blixen wrote on 28 February, ‘…she had arrived in Nairobi the day before and was very unhappy and depressed. I can hardly believe that everything is as she describes…Anyhow she is stranded out here now, parted from her child and with hardly any money, in a kind of exile, and feeling very lonely and miserable, even though she is so young and light-hearted that I am sure, sooner or later, she will find something to live for. I have invited her to stay here during the races, she is obliged to come down here as she has several horses running, and she says people glare at her and are so unpleasant in Nairobi that it is frightful for her to be there. In spite of all her experience she is still the greatest baby I have known, but there is more in her than in most of the people who pretend to be so shocked at her now.’74
From this letter it is clear that Beryl’s version of the events of 1929 absolved her of any responsibility for the divorce. Patently this is a biased view. Mansfield had been suspicious for some time of her relationship with the Prince and after the royal safari he could have been in no doubt that his worst suspicions were confirmed. It is hardly surprising that he had subsequent doubts about the paternity of his son. Did Beryl really not know that in behaving in such an irresponsible manner she was putting her second marriage in danger? Surely she must have realized that Mansfield could not tolerate such a situation. It seems, from Tania’s comments, almost as if she was surprised at his reaction, and thought he had behaved irrationally.
For two months Beryl worked at the training establishment which was gradually being taken over entirely by her father, and moped around Kenya. To Tania’s surprise she received a telegram on 30 April asking her to meet Beryl for lunch at Muthaiga. ‘When we met I heard to my astonishment that she was on her way back to Europe, had to leave the same day for Mombasa to catch the Italian boat on the 1st. Considering she only came out on the 1st of March [sic] this seemed an extraordinary plan, but unfortunately a stupid man came up and asked to join us for lunch so I couldn’t find out what made her take this step. Perhaps it is the Duke of Gloucester who cannot do without her any longer, and in itself I suppose it is a better idea for her to be at home in England than out here. If he is going to support her for a lifetime, the way her miserable husband has arranged things, then they can at least enjoy each other a little.’ One shares with Tania annoyance at ‘the stupid man’ who has robbed us for ever of the chance of discovering what Beryl obviously wished to confide.
During the summer the friendship between Beryl and Prince Henry flowered again, but despite the disquiet that had been caused, he was never a major figure in her emotional life. Beryl liked Prince Henry for himself, and probably also enjoyed the privileges that went with the position of a royal mistress; and when the affair finally ended she was sad and rather lonely, but not heartbroken. In fact, so far, she had never enjoyed a relationship with a man who ‘really mattered’ to her. Even her marriages to Jock and Mansfield never achieved the importance that she later gave to much shorter-lived relationships, because neither man gained her whole-hearted respect. In some indefinable way they failed to measure up to her personal view of the ideal man, which was her father.
Late in 1930 Beryl returned to Kenya. Friends claim that she subsequently told them she had been advised that she would forfeit her annuity if she continued to live in England, though she would be allowed reasonable visits to see her son. This may or may not be true. It seems unlikely, but I have found no evidence either way.
Beryl was now twenty-eight years old. Sophisticated and elegant, she had other less definable qualities including her appealing smile: halfway between a brave boyish grin and the shy half-smile of a little girl anxious to please. Throughout her life, this apparent vulnerability awakened protective instincts in those around her.75 She was at the height of her magnetic charm and the man who was attracted to its full force was Denys Finch Hatton.
CHAPTER FIVE
1930–1931
For some years, whilst she had been friends with the now immortalized couple Tania Blixen and Denys Finch Hatton,1 Beryl had hero-worshipped Denys.2 She was a constant visitor to Tania’s house, drawn to the couple’s intelligent, mercurial fantasy world and their sensual enjoyment of music and literature. Perhaps because Beryl had been little more than a child when they first knew her, Tania never saw her as a threat to her relationship with Denys. It is clear from the tone of Tania’s letters that until 1930, at least, she and Beryl were friends, indeed they had considerable affection for each other.
Ingrid Lindstrom, possibly Tania’s closest friend in Kenya, has been quoted as saying that ‘Tania did not really like women.’3 During research for this book, the same thing was repeated about Beryl. Yet despite these reports it seems that Tania and Beryl were able to find a level of friendship and there is almost a maternal perception in Tania’s remarks about her.
During interviews in the spring of 1981 Beryl remembered only that Tania ‘…was very difficult to get to know. She kept herself very private. But she had lovely things…I enjoyed going there, but not at the end.’ Of Denys she said, ‘He was a wonderful man, quite brilliant. Intelligent and very well educated. He was a great hunter and a great, a tremendous personality.’4 Here was a man who measured up.
Accusations have been levelled that Beryl was responsible for breaking up Tania’s now much publicized love affair with Denys. This is highly unlikely. It is now well known that things between the couple had started to go wrong as far back as 1928 as a result of Tania’s jealousy and possessiveness, and Denys’s desire to remain free. The situation had come to a head when Tania discovered that her former husband Bror and his second wife Cockie had accompanied the royal safari which Denys had organized. There were fierce arguments which Tania described briefly in her letters home, where she justified her stance saying that it was ‘against the law of nature’ for Denys to be friendly with Bror Blixen in the circumstances.5 Obviously much was said which was not reported, for according to Tania’s biographer, Judith Thurman, it was from this moment that the relationship between the couple began to cool.
Beryl’s return from England occurred when Denys and Tania’s love affair was to all intents and purposes at an end. Denys had moved into a friend’s house in Nairobi and Beryl rented a small bungalow at Muthaiga which had once been shared as a pied-à-terre by Denys and Lord Delamere and was only a short walk from Muthaiga Club.6
Denys has been described as having a catalytic effect on the lives of those who came into contact with him. In his relationship with Beryl however, he played a pivotal role for he shaped the child-woman, and encouraged her to educate herself. Nevertheless their relationship was not limited to that of teacher and pupil, any more than his relationship with Tania had been when he taught her mathematics and Greek. When Beryl arrived back in Nairobi – sent home it would seem, from what she told friends, almost like
a naughty schoolgirl – she was ripe for a love affair with the man she had admired for so long. ‘She wasn’t just in love with Denys, she was mad with love for him…’ a friend stated. Her relationship with Prince Henry had been ‘a playful one’ – a romp that both had enjoyed. But her feeling for Denys was far removed from her light and skittish affection for Prince Henry. For the first time she felt the passionate stirrings of the greatest emotion. The suffocating surges of blood; the heart literally missing beats; and the heady surge of joy at knowing her feelings were returned, at least in some measure, by the adored Denys.
Tania (Karen) Dinesen had arrived in East Africa in January 1914 at the age of twenty-eight to marry her cousin, Baron Bror von Blixen-Finecke. She had previously been deeply in love with Bror’s twin brother Hans but her feelings were not reciprocated and in order to escape the unhappiness of constantly seeing Hans she spent two years travelling around Europe. In 1913 after her return to Denmark, and in the teeth of family disapproval, her engagement to Bror was announced. The family liked Bror; indeed with his open friendliness he was a man it would be difficult to dislike. He was handsome and rugged, with fair hair, strong features and fierce blue eyes, but ‘He looked down benevolently and lasciviously upon womankind and had been raised to believe that the entire world existed, as did the fish in his streams and the game in his woods, for his pleasure.’7
Straight on Till Morning Page 13