Lucinda Gosling - Great War Britain: The First World War at Home

Although The Tatler catered for an upper-class readership, it was keen to emphasise its popularity with all classes of society, including, as here, troops at the Front. (Illustrated London News/ME)

I f there was anything to distinguish the summer of 1914 from any other it was the exceptional heat. As the mercury rose, The Tatler magazines staff worked through the suffocating heat. With the thermometer at goodness knows what, these lines are grudgingly contributed by a perspiring and waistcoatless staff, it informed readers. The office cat is undergoing a course of ice massage; life is very trying. But despite the uncomfortable working conditions, the magazine continued as usual, and it being the height of the Season, there was plenty on which to report. There were the usual preoccupations and highlights of that time of year speech day at Harrow; centenary cricket at Lords attended by the King, and Childrens Day at the exclusive Ranelagh club. Advertisements reflected the hot, lazy days of high summer golf balls from J.P. Cochrane, Whiteways famous Devon Cyders, Colgates Talc Powder available in violet and cashmere bouquet (delightful after bathing in the sea) and the Casino at Dieppe reminded potential customers that it was just five hours from London. Ostend, Queen of the Sea-Bathing Resorts, in Belgium was publicised as easily accessible by motor car from Paris or Brussels. The sensational murder trial of Madame Caillaux in Paris, accused of killing the editor of Le Figaro , was the talk of smart society, while the equally sensational ravishing Russian Ballet was performing at Drury Lane.

In its 8 July issue, there was a ripple of concern over the news that in Sarajevo, the heir to the Austrian Empire, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, had been assassinated along with his brave wife. Under the heading, Flutter and unrest in the diplomatic circle of the near-eastern powers, a page of pictures showed various ministers and ambassadors flitting from embassy to embassy in London. But it was one story of many, given as much space as the forthcoming boxing match between the French idol Georges Carpentier and Gunboat Smith or the tragic death of Sir Denis Anson, who had fallen overboard and drowned in the Thames during a nocturnal riverboat party, also attended by Lady Diana Manners and the eldest son of the Prime Minister, Raymond Asquith. In its Small Talk section, At Wimbledon, the American Norman Brookes had beaten four-times champion, the dashing Anthony Wilding, to win the championship while Mrs Lambert Chambers slugged her way to a seventh victory beating Mrs Larcombe in the final. The Tatler ran photographs of the two Titans of Tennis exhibiting remarkably similar jaw lines.

By the end of July, Gay and Glorious Goodwood the last great gathering of society swallows before dispersing to the sea, the stream and the moors, or the cure marked the end of the Season. Eve, The Tatler s gossip columnist, worried what she would wear in the heat, as Goodwood frocks get smarter and smarter, and really now theyre very much the same as the Ascot ones. Some Pictorial Consolation for the Perspiring Londoner was offered in the form of a page of pretty women in swimsuits, including a charming young German lady in a quaint costume pour la plage. Further on, a fashion spread suggested Burberry for ladies heading to the grouse moors of Scotland that August.

Due to being a weekly magazine, The Tatler was at a disadvantage when it came to reporting immediate news and when Britain declared war on Germany at midnight on 4 August, the Wednesday issue had already gone to press. Thus, inappropriately, its first issue of the war featured the benign subject of Princess Mary on its front cover, looking awkward and a little frumpy, but, significantly, with her hair up for the first time, prompting the caption to read, Our Grown Up Little Princess. Perhaps the only hint of the cataclysm about to erupt was a portrait of the popular Count Mensdorff-Pouilly, the Austro-Hungarian Ambassador in the same issue a great sportsman and a prominent member of the Jockey Club and two small sketches in the Letters of Eve column which commented on the growing military influences on fashion, though Eve seemed to think that if young men were to be called up for military service then it would more likely be to deal with the situation in Ireland.

Notable members of society, including Sir Herbert Tree and his daughter Iris, attending the inquest into the tragic death of Sir Dennis Anson and Mr William Mitchell during a nocturnal riverboat trip on the Thames. Other members of the party had included Lady Diana Manners and Raymond Asquith, eldest son of the Prime Minister. (Illustrated London News/ME)

It is only fair to point out that The Tatler was not alone in this blinkered view. Not far from The Tatler offices in Milford Lane, off the Strand, were those of The Sketch magazine, in Great New Street, on the north side of Fleet Street. The Sketch was a friendly rival and senior by eight years (launched in 1893; The Tatler in 1901). It also had the newly mature Princess Mary as its cover girl on 5 August, and its enthusiasm for girls in bathing costumes was even greater, with four whole pages of comely bathing belles shared with readers. Elsewhere, the actresses Phyllis Monkman and Eileen Molyneux were featured wearing a strapless gown and shockingly short skirts respectively, in photographs entitled: Costumes to be Recommended in Hot Weather. The Clubman column on the 29 July commented, somewhat petulantly, how the London Season had been spoilt by a combination of court mourning (for the Austrian Archduke), troubles on the stock exchange and militant suffragette activity. The Royal Horse Show a few weeks previously had been disrupted by protests, and museums and galleries were closing their doors to visitors in fright because of the potential damage that might be wreaked by the troublemakers. The previous week, the same columnist had written about the current shortage of men in the Regular Army, should any national emergency come suddenly upon this country. The next week, a photograph of the baby son of the Duke and Duchess of Brunswick (the daughter of the Kaiser) was published with the news that he, and any future children, would be styled Highness and designated a Prince of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. His uncle, described as our very friendly Crown Prince, the Kaisers heir, was pictured at a tennis tournament in Zoppot. Elsewhere, The Sketch ran a page of pictures on the lavish party held by Mrs Keiller, aka the artist Doll Phil-Morris, at her home, No. 13 Hyde Park Gardens. The theme of a Venetian masquerade required everyone to dress in masks and eighteenth-century gowns, and her commitment to authenticity led her to flood the terrace of her garden to replicate the Grand Canal and have a miniature Bridge of Sighs constructed to traverse the water.

As weekly magazines, both The Sketch and The Tatler , were at a disadvantage when it came to reporting immediate news. Their first issues of the war featured a photograph of Princess Mary on their covers, wearing her hair up for the first time. (Illustrated London News/ME)

This was the world of The Tatler and The Sketch ; a world of ballrooms and bazaars, duchesses and debutantes, royal babies, engagements, marriages, fashions from Paris and polo at Hurlingham. As the countrys social compasses, they reported on the smartest functions and the cream of society, casting a spotlight on those who had talent, influence, pedigree, power or simply a pretty face. In an entertaining blend of theatre, society gossip, royal doings, sport, fashion, motoring, travel and irreverent writing and opinion they paint a portrait of a gilded and glamorous elite, whose privileged lives were about to be shaken, damaged and, in some cases, destroyed by the outbreak of war. The Tatler and The Sketch had chronicled Edwardian society at play through a golden era for the upper classes. In August 1914, they turned to depicting society at war.