Thelma’s marriage to him was a disaster. Her sister Gloria also chose a man of her own. Another wealthy family with another spendthrift son: Reggie Vanderbilt. He had been married and divorced before and had two children whom he had provided for by putting money in a trust fund for them. Reggie’s mother, aware of her son’s position financially and his spending habits, gave the couple an allowance that would keep them very comfortably. Reggie was more than twice Gloria’s age, had been a heavy drinker and had a seriously damaged liver.
Apart from these trifles Gloria’s marriage turned out to be relatively happy and their daughter, Gloria Laura, was born in 1924. She too would inherit from the trust fund when her father died. Alice Vanderbilt bought her son and daughter-in-law a beautiful house in New York in which they could entertain and bring up the children in the way Vanderbilt children were supposed to be, very wealthy.
Thelma was able to divorce her husband with the help of her two sisters. She then went to live with Harry in Hollywood, where he had not managed to make his fortune. Thelma, always a promising dancer – in fact she had wanted to be a professional dancer from childhood – found work alongside Mary Pickford, though it did not seem to get her any further in her aspirations to be a movie star. She received a divorce settlement of US$100,000 (around $1 million today) when she came of age and used it to set up her own film production company, probably inspired by the one Mary Pickford and her husband Douglas Fairbanks had started. As head of her own production company Thelma could choose her own stars – and she chose herself. Co-stars included the well-known Clara Bow and Lionel Barrymore, amongst others. If she had persevered with the company and taken on new technology, gone into talkies, then maybe Thelma could have made a name in cinema. But she let her mother talk her out of it; she sold up and went to live with her sister in New York. It was there, at one of their many dinner parties, that Thelma met her second husband, Lord Marmaduke Furness, a widower. He was wealthy and an aristocrat, charming but also boring; his favourite hobbies were fox hunting and riding. Thelma detested horses: it should have been a warning to her.
Lady Thelma Morgan Furness
By their third date he had proposed and she had accepted. To be fair, though, Thelma did get a taste of what life with Furness would be like, as they began a sexual relationship as fiancées. They were married at a registry office in London in 1926 with only a few guests, two of whom were Consuelo and her husband Bernie.
Furness was away on business much of the time and he gave his wife a sports car so she could go gadding about the countryside. Then the truth about the fabulous, generous husband began to emerge. He was an alcoholic who got violent; he wouldn’t let Thelma have an allowance of her own, although she was allowed to buy lots of clothes and finery as long as it was charged to his account. And, worst of all, he hated children. He hated his own two from his first marriage in particular. His son tried to have as little to do with his family as possible and was at Eton most of the year. Averill, by the time she was 18 – and not very attractive – was the butt of her father’s cruel taunts. Both Thelma and Averill were in trouble when Averill’s debut into society failed to produce her a suitor. And to add another thing to his list of grievances against Thelma, she had not yet got pregnant.
Enter the Prince of Wales. He and Thelma met at a ball in 1926. Thelma hadn’t been long married to Furness. Edward found Thelma exotic and glamorous having come from Hollywood. He invited her and her husband to a jazz concert but Furness declined because of business commitments; Thelma later found that a ticket had been sent to her London address – and she went.
They drank champagne, talked and danced, drank more champagne, confided in each other and then went to bed together in a hotel. The next step was a weekend in the country. From then on Thelma would spend as much time as possible with her royal lover, which meant any time her husband was away.
In 1928 the Furnesses were set to go on an African safari, it was business for the husband and supposedly pleasure for his wife. The Prince of Wales was able to comfort Thelma with the promise that he would be in Africa at the same time, also on safari. He would send them an invitation to join his travelling party. Once again Furness declined the offer but was only too willing for his wife to go, where she could make useful contacts. Thelma enjoyed herself immensely while travelling with her lover, the only blight being the possibility she may be pregnant and would not know who the father was, her husband or her lover.
Furness was delighted to hear the news that his wife was expecting a baby, and she had a story readily prepared in order to explain any colouring the child might exhibit at birth – neither Furness nor Thelma were fair haired or blue eyed. Thelma did actually have some Irish ancestry and she would use that as the reason, although she had given nothing away that might let Furness suspect she had been unfaithful. The baby was a boy, much to his father’s delight – although he did not take any other interest in him – and he had dark hair like his mother.
Thelma’s life went along in a comfortable way. Her husband was frequently out of the country on business (or more likely gambling), she had her prince to keep her happy and her beloved older sister Consuelo, she had a darling baby boy and lived in luxury. Then something happened that was to ruin everything.
Enter Mrs Wallis Simpson. After having been introduced to Thelma by her sister, Thelma invited the Simpsons to a dinner party she was giving in honour of the prince’s return from an overseas trip. Nothing of any significance happened at the dinner – that was to come later.
It was Maria Dudley Ward who had met Mrs Kerr-Smiley towards the end of the war when she took shelter in her house during an air raid: Maria had met the prince there and become his mistress, then his dear friend in whom he often confided. Now here was Mrs Kerr-Smiley’s sister-in-law Wallis wanting Thelma to help her get an introduction at court. Thelma didn’t know it but Maude Kerr-Smiley did not like Wallis, did not trust her and thought she was just after her brother’s money. She was not going to introduce her at court. Thelma arranged for an acquaintance of her husband, who had performed the same service for her, to do it in return for a cash payment.
Thelma attended the presentation and the evening ended with a congenial supper at her own house for the Simpsons and the prince. The meal was reciprocated by a dinner at the Simpsons’. The friendship grew between Wallis and Thelma, and Wallis and the prince. The two women would spend time at the prince’s estate, Thelma feeling safe in the knowledge that if Furness were to get curious he would find his wife had a worthy chaperone and that the two of them were overseeing young women being presented as potential wives to the prince. Furness was busy having an affair of his own anyway, so was probably too wrapped up in his other woman to notice.
Thelma’s marriage finally ended in divorce. She had discovered her husband’s other woman and he in turn had accused her of having an affair with the Prince of Wales, although she denied it. He threatened to divorce her on those grounds. Her lawyers suggested she put forward the proceedings for divorce first and get an affidavit from an employee of Furness’s mistress to say she had seen the two in bed together. When Furness told his lawyers he’d push his claim through, they told him very decisively that he would be mad to involve the prince in any way.
When the divorce came through there was little money for Thelma and she lost custody of their son. Furness married his mistress as quickly as possible. The two young children from the mistress’s previous marriage, and Anthony, were looked after in a separate wing of the great house Furness owned and looked after by a series of nannies.
Thelma’s life took a downturn from then on. She was free to see the prince although she knew she could never be married to him, her son was banished from her and she had no money. To top it all, Wallis Simpson was becoming increasingly attractive to the Prince of Wales.
At the same time that Thelma was losing custody of her son, Gloria was battling for custody of her daughter. Gloria’s husband had died and his sister Gertrude Van
derbilt was trying to get hold of her brother’s little daughter. Gloria begged Thelma to help her through the emotional turmoil. Thelma obliged and set off for New York, promising the prince she would see him again as soon as she could.
While in America Thelma met a very handsome man, Prince Aly Khan, with whom a casual dance led to a brief fling. On her return to London Thelma found that photos of her with the prince had made it into the hands of Wallis Simpson, who had shown them to Edward with the purpose of turning him from his mistress. When Thelma asked to visit him Edward suggested they have a break from each other. Thelma drove to the prince’s estate only to find that her place at his side had been well and truly usurped by Wallis Simpson. And that was the end of the affair between Thelma Furness and Edward David, the Prince of Wales.
Thelma embarked on a relationship with Prince Aly Khan, although she knew it was no more than an extended fling. Finally, after a huge battle with Furness’s third wife over Anthony’s inheritance, Thelma returned to Hollywood to live with her widowed twin sister. She died in 1970 in New York.
Part 3
Mistresses of the
Aristocracy
THE MISTRESSES OF THE DUKE
OF DEVONSHIRE
William Cavendish became the 5th Duke of Devonshire when he was age 16. His father had died a rather embittered man, dismissed from his post as Lord Chamberlain by George III because of his leadership of the Whig party. The young king subsequently assembled his own government; one he thought he could trust.
William, on becoming Duke of Devonshire, was automatically catapulted into the middle of Whig politics; a position for which he had neither the interest nor the talent. It was remarked by some of his colleagues in the party that, although he looked the part, he did not have the aptitude and was well known for his indifference. The same indifference seems to have spread to the feelings he had for his first wife, Georgiana Spencer. Various sources suggest that he was a man who liked his women particularly attentive to his comfort, who pandered to his whims and who did not make great public waves, as she tended to do.
Whatever the secret to his charm, twice during his lifetime the duke had both a wife and mistress – the same wife but a different mistress. The second mistress was taken into the bosom of his family and became indispensable to both husband and wife in a genuine ménage a trois.
The three women presented here have stories that intertwine so it seems best to tell their stories together: Georgiana Cavendish, the Duchess of Devonshire (b.1757; d.1806); Charlotte Spencer (d.1778); Lady Elizabeth Hervey Foster (later Duchess of Devonshire) (b.1759; d.1824).
Georgiana was a beautiful, intelligent young woman who earned a reputation for being both a leader of fashion and a notorious gambler. Her life with her husband and his mistresses is a fascinating one.
Georgiana’s father was John Spencer, 1st Earl Spencer; her mother was Lady Margaret Spencer (née Poyntz). Georgiana, the eldest child of three, was her mother’s favourite and the two declared themselves best friends. Poor little Harriet who came along five years later was not so lucky, her mother pronounced her as an ugly baby and left it at that.
When she was 16 Georgiana was introduced to the 24-year-old Duke of Devonshire. After a brief interlude, in which the two young people were thrown together socially, the duke put forward his request to marry Georgiana. The offer was accepted and the date of the wedding set for Georgiana’s seventeenth birthday. The match was considered a very good one. The Spencers and the Devonshires were socially on a par and Georgiana was going to have a splendid dowry settled on her at marriage; the duke was good-looking and charming.
Georgiana’s wedding was an expensive affair. Her family spent a lot of money setting her up with wedding clothes and jewels, post-wedding clothes such as walking dresses, ball gowns, morning dresses, riding habits, stockings, gloves, hats, shoes (reportedly sixty-five pairs) and anything else that would help make her happy in her new home and enhance her beauty as a showpiece for her husband. Even though a lot of time and money went into the preparations, only five people actually attended the wedding itself.
What more could a 17-year-old girl want? One thing she certainly did not want was a rival for her new husband’s affections. Charlotte Spencer – and no, she was not related to Georgiana’s family – already had a strong hold on the duke’s heart.
Charlotte had been destined to become a milliner in London. Her father was a clergyman with a poor living who died when she was a teenager. Although she could have made a go of it in the city, her life took an abrupt turn for the worse almost as soon as she stepped off the coach. A common practice in those days was for parasitic men to introduce themselves to young country girls as they alighted in London. They offered to help them find accommodation and work or offered them love and marriage; the results were usually disastrous. Seduced and abandoned Charlotte found refuge with a wealthy old man who took her in and looked after her. On his death, which was not long after they began living together, Charlotte found he had provided for her in his will, leaving her enough money to become the owner of a hat shop, not just an employee in one. Charlotte was back on track with her career – until the Duke of Devonshire happened to pass by her little boutique and fall in love with her.
There were perhaps worse things that could have happened to her. The duke established Charlotte in a comfortable house with servants to wait on her, and he would come and make love to her. She may have even kept the management of her hat shop.
One woman’s happiness often seems to be linked to another’s despair. Charlotte had a baby girl, also named Charlotte, not long before the unsuspecting Lady Georgiana married William, the 5th Duke of Devonshire. It was no wonder that Georgiana found his embraces rather cold, as his heart was elsewhere.
Charlotte Spencer, the thorn in the new bride’s side, only lived another four years, but these may have been four too many for Georgiana who, although she never mentioned any names, must have been aware of the mistress’s existence. Georgiana herself was having trouble conceiving or carrying a child to full term. It would be nine years before she successfully gave birth. Therefore it must have been painful to know that her husband was enjoying fatherhood at another woman’s house.
When Charlotte Spencer died, Georgiana had no objections whatsoever to the arrival at her house of her husband’s illegitimate daughter. Little Charlotte became Georgiana’s sweetheart, the child she could not have herself. They decided to give the child her father’s Christian name, William, as a surname, altering it only slightly by adding an ‘s’ to the end. This was common practice at the time, giving a father’s name as a surname, keeping the blood ties linked while not acknowledging the relationship any more than could be avoided. In the case of Charlotte Williams, her story was that she was the orphan child of a distant relation of Georgiana’s.
Georgiana Cavendish
By the time Charlotte Williams had made her debut into the household of her father and so-called distant cousin, Georgiana had found another absorbing but expensive hobby. She had become a ruthless and compulsive gambler. She was the darling of society with her beauty and fashion, her wit and general affability. Her open friendliness and compassion for those less fortunate than herself earned Georgiana many friends in the lower classes as well as with her peers.
Probably in a bid to stem some of her hurt and loneliness, Georgiana had taken to the gaming tables, as much for social contact and to be admired and loved as for any other reason, but she was soon hooked on trying to win money. Unfortunately she lost more than she won, often exceeding her already generous allowance of £4,000 a year. The first time she found herself in real debt she applied to her parents for help. Her mother, always ready to stand by her eldest daughter, agreed to pay off the sum but only on the condition that Georgiana tell her husband about it. The duke’s reaction to his wife’s profligacy was extremely surprising. He paid her parents back in full and walked away, never mentioning the subject again; there was no admonishment, no outrage
. Georgiana must have felt as though she was invisible to such a cool husband.
One of the greatest influences on the young duchess’s life was meeting the politician Charles James Fox. He was 28 when they met in 1777 and not at all good-looking. His short, stout figure was not particularly suitable for the extravagant fashions he chose to wear, but he, like Georgiana, enjoyed attracting attention with his bizarre styles; changing his hair colour from one day to the next was one of his favourite pastimes. Charles was also a gambler and had run up debts that made Georgiana’s look petty.
Apart from being lively and entertaining Charles Fox gave Georgiana intellectual stimulation and a strong, supportive friendship. It was Charles who first got the duchess interested in politics. She became a devout campaigner for his party.
Elizabeth Hervey Foster
With motivation coming from several of her friends, including Fox, Georgiana wrote a novel, The Sylph, which was published anonymously in 1779 although it was attributed to ‘a young lady’. The contents were often autobiographical and dealt with a loveless marriage like her own.
During a visit to Bath, for health reasons, Georgiana made friends with a young woman of social standing, Lady Elizabeth Foster, née Hervey. Elizabeth was the daughter of a clergyman, not a poor one as Charlotte’s father had been but one who lived well beyond his means. As a younger son he had entered the Church, as was common for those being the third in line for inheritance, thinking it unlikely that he ever would inherit. At some point he was appointed the Bishop of Derry, although this did little to relieve the constant financial difficulties the family found itself in. It was as the daughter of the Bishop of Derry that Elizabeth in 1776 was married off to Irishman John Thomas Foster, a respectable man who did not feel the need for a dowry (the bishop, as a spendthrift, had nothing to offer the man who took his daughter off his hands). Mr Foster seemed to be a rather serious young man who was the opposite of his father-in-law, in money matters at least.
Other Women Page 7