Lyndsy Spence - The Mistress of Mayfair: Men, Money and the Marriage of Doris Delevingne

Will you walk into my parlour? said the Spider to the Fly,

Tis the prettiest little parlour that ever you did spy;

The way into my parlour is up a winding stair,

And Ive a many curious things to show when you are there.

Oh no, no, said the little Fly, to ask me is in vain,

For who goes up your winding stair

can neer come down again.

Mary Howitt, The Spider and the Fly

First published in 2016

The History Press

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This ebook edition first published in 2016

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Lyndsy Spence, 2016

The right of Lyndsy Spence to be identified as the Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the authors and publishers rights, and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.

EPUB 978 0 7509 6965 9

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I should like to thank the following individuals for their help and support during the writing of this book: my agent Robyn Drury at Diane Banks Associates; Mark Beynon at The History Press; Kathryn McKee at the Cambridge University Archives; John Brennan at the Winston Churchill Archives; Richard Ward at the Parliamentary Archives; Sarah Malcolm at the Franklin D. Roosevelt Presidential Library; Will Cross for his various archived material and for his assistance with the Castlerosse divorce files at The National Archives; Sarah Williams for her help in navigating Ancestry.com; Cameron Leslie for his assistance with archived newspaper articles; Katja Anderson for her research assistance and information on Stephen Laddie Sanford; Janet Morgan for her helpful insights on Edwina Mountbatten, Doris Delevingne and Laddie Sanford; Anna Thomasson for her insights on the relationship between Edith Olivier and Doris; Alexandra Eldin-Taylor for kindly looking up references to Lord Beaverbrook and Doris; Helen Tyrell for the information on her Homan relatives; Cameron Bryant for sharing information and archived material on his Delevingne relatives; Andy Brill for sharing information on his relative, Enid Lindeman; Sofka Zinovieff for her permission to reproduce the photograph of Doris at Faringdon; Stephen Kennedy for his photograph of Doris and Paulette Goddard; Andrew Budgell, Meems Ellenberg and Kay Schuckhart for their thoughtful suggestions.

Its the good girls who keep diaries; the bad girls never have the time.

Tallulah Bankhead

Little is documented about Doris Delevingnes life. A fleeting presence in the biographies of others, her name is often associated with a scandalous anecdote or a witty aside. In the 1920s and 30s she was a woman who lived at the centre of things, yet she formed almost no attachments and maintained no ties. What is known about Doris is often misquoted, misconstrued or misreported, and nobody can say for certain where a fact originated, only that it has escalated throughout the years and in the pages of various publications.

Therefore the trail that remains from a life, that was in every way a cautionary tale, is scarce. Unlike other socialites and scandalous figures of the twentieth century, Doris was discreet in print. She made no boasts of her liaisons and she committed herself to no one, not even on paper. Her letters to powerful men (Winston Churchill and Lord Beaverbrook, for example) are locked away in archives, and they tell only one side of the story.

The most important man in her life was, undoubtedly, Valentine Edward Charles Browne, styled Viscount Castlerosse and exclusively known by his courtesy title. Although from different backgrounds, both Doris and Castlerosse found a kindred spirit in one another, and they were each motivated by money: their own and other peoples. To make sense of the connection they shared I have given Castlerosse his own two stand-alone chapters, as this book is very much his story too.

What we can be certain of is that Doris was unique. A nonconformist, she can neither be labelled a bluestocking, a flapper, a Bright Young Thing, or a bohemian. Her liberal attitude towards life, viewed as advanced in any era, was entirely her own. An ordinary girl who created a lifestyle of debauchery in pursuit of riches, she took life by the scruff of the neck and made no apologies for her outlook, or her behaviour.

In the last century her name was scattered like confetti, it appeared in the gossip columns at home and abroad, and it popped up in diaries and in letters Cecil Beaton, Gerald Berners, Peter Watson and Edith Olivier, for instance, shared differing opinions of this demi-mondaine. She was photographed for Vogue, was painted by Winston Churchill and Sir John Lavery R.A., and she was the muse for Noel Cowards Private Lives and Michael Arlens The Green Hat.

In todays world, where past socialites and old-world aristocrats have been brought to life as subjects in numerous biographies, Doris has lain dormant. By examining the limited sources that exist and the company that she kept, I hope I have, in some way, brought her to life.

A note on the formal titles used: to avoid confusion between Doriss friends who shared the same first names I have used formal titles to distinguish between the two: e.g. Lady Diana Cooper and Diana Guinness (later Mosley). Individuals such as Winston Churchill, Max Aitken (Lord Beaverbrook) and Cecil Beaton are referred to by their last names, including several others who were otherwise more recognisable by their last name rather than their first.

A note on the values: I have used the Bank of England inflation calculator to give the value of money in todays terms. Please see Notes for more information.

Theres nothing so dangerous as a headstrong girl who knows her own mind.

Daphne du Maurier, Jamaica Inn

Nobody could have predicted the type of woman Doris Delevingne would become. A temptress who stirred up high society between the wars, she was as notorious for her love affairs as she was for her charm and gaiety. Her nondescript life began in October 1900 in Streatham, the south London borough of Lambeth, where she was born Jessie Doris Delevingne, the eldest child and only daughter of Edward Charles Delevingne and Jessie Marian ne Homan. To avoid confusion with her mother, she would be known by her middle name, Doris. However, as she grew older, and bolder, she often listed her first name as the more elegant Jessica.