Lady Almina and the Real Downton Abbey: The Lost Legacy of Highclere Castle Read online

  Copyright © 2011 by 8th Countess of Carnarvon

  Reader’s Guide copyright © 2013 by Random House LLC

  Excerpt from Lady Catherine, the Earl, and the Real Downton Abbey copyright © 2013 by The Countess of Carnarvon

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Broadway Books, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  www.crownpublishing.com

  BROADWAY BOOKS and its logo, B D W Y, are trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  Originally published in hardcover in Great Britain by Hodder & Stoughton, a Hachette U.K. company, London, in 2011.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available upon request.

  ISBN 978-0-7704-3562-2

  eBook ISBN: 978-0-7704-3563-9

  Cover design by Laura Klynstra

  Cover photography: © Highclere Castle Archive

  Author photograph: © Tobi Corney Photography

  v3.1_r1

  For my husband and son, who I adore,

  and my beloved sisters

  Contents

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter 1: Pomp and Circumstance

  Chapter 2: Welcome to Highclere

  Chapter 3: Almina, Debutante

  Chapter 4: A Triumph for Her Ladyship

  Chapter 5: Life Downstairs

  Photo Insert 1

  Chapter 6: Dressing for Dinner

  Chapter 7: Edwardian Egypt

  Chapter 8: The Passing of the Golden Age

  Photo Insert 2

  Chapter 9: The Summer of 1914

  Chapter 10: Call to Arms

  Chapter 11: Paradise Lost

  Chapter 12: War Heroes

  Chapter 13: Hospital on the Move

  Chapter 14: Death in the Trenches

  Photo Insert 3

  Chapter 15: The Dark Times

  Chapter 16: The Promised End

  Chapter 17: From War to Peace

  Chapter 18: Another Glittering Season

  Photo Insert 4

  Chapter 19: ‘Wonderful Things’

  Chapter 20: Lights Out

  Chapter 21: Inheritance

  Epilogue: Almina’s Legacy

  Acknowledgements

  Transcripts

  Picture Acknowledgements

  Bibliography

  Reading Group Guide

  An Excerpt from Lady Catherine, the Earl, and the Real Downton Abbey

  Prologue

  This is a book about an extraordinary woman called Almina Carnarvon, the family into which she married, the Castle that became her home, the people who worked there, and the transformation of the Castle when it became a hospital for wounded soldiers during the First World War.

  It is not a history, although it is set against the exuberance of the Edwardian period, the sombre gravity of the Great War and the early years of recovery after the conflict.

  It is neither a biography nor a work of fiction, but places characters in historical settings, as identified from letters, diaries, visitor books and household accounts written at the time.

  Almina Carnarvon was an enormously wealthy heiress, the illegitimate daughter of Alfred de Rothschild. She was contracted in marriage to the 5th Earl of Carnarvon, a key player in Edwardian society in Britain. His interests were many and eclectic. He loved books and travel and pursued every opportunity to explore the technologies that were transforming his age. Most famously he discovered the tomb of Tutankhamun with Howard Carter.

  Almina was an unbelievably generous woman in spirit and with her money. She was a guest at some of the greatest royal pageants, until – as it did for so many people – the First World War transformed her life, involving her in running hospitals instead of great house parties and showing her to be an adept nurse and skilled healer.

  Highclere Castle is still home to the Earls of Carnarvon. Via its television alter ego, Downton Abbey, it is known to millions of people as the setting for a drama that has thrilled viewers in more than a hundred countries around the world.

  Living here for the past twelve years, I have come to know the bones and stones of the Castle. My research has revealed some of the stories of the fascinating people who lived here, but there is so much more. My journey has just started.

  The Countess of Carnarvon

  1

  Pomp and Circumstance

  On Wednesday 26 June 1895, Miss Almina Victoria Marie Alexandra Wombwell, a startlingly pretty nineteen-year-old of somewhat dubious social standing, married George Edward Stanhope Molyneux Herbert, the 5th Earl of Carnarvon, at St Margaret’s, Westminster.

  It was a lovely day, and the thousand-year-old white stone church was crowded with people and overflowing with gorgeous flowers. Some of the congregation on the groom’s side might perhaps have remarked that the decorations were a little ostentatious. The nave had been filled with tall potted palm trees whilst ferns spilled from the recesses. The chancel and sanctuary were adorned with white lilies, orchids, peonies and roses. There was a distinct touch of the exotic, combined with the heady scents of English summer flowers. It was an unusual spectacle, but then everything about this wedding was unusual. Almina’s name, the circumstances of her birth and most of all her exceptional wealth, all contributed to the fact that this was no typical Society wedding.

  The Earl was getting married on his twenty-ninth birthday. His family and title were distinguished and he was slim and charming, if somewhat reserved. He owned houses in London, Hampshire, Somerset, Nottinghamshire and Derbyshire. His estates were grand; the houses were filled with paintings by the Old Masters, objects brought back from trips to the East and beautiful French furniture. Naturally he was received in every drawing room in the country and invited to every party in London, especially where there was an eligible daughter or niece for him to meet. Though they would doubtless have been gracious on such a special occasion, there must have been some inwardly disappointed ladies in the congregation that day.

  He arrived with his best man, Prince Victor Duleep Singh, a friend from Eton and then Cambridge. The Prince was the son of the ex-Maharaja of Punjab, who had owned the Koh-i-Noor diamond before it was confiscated by the British for inclusion in the Crown Jewels of Queen Victoria, Empress of India.

  The sun poured through the new stained-glass windows, which depicted English heroes across the centuries. The ancient church, which stands next to Westminster Abbey, had recently been refurbished by Sir George Gilbert Scott, the pre-eminent Victorian architect. The church was, in fact, a quintessentially Victorian blend of the traditional and the modern. It was the perfect setting for this marriage of people who came from such different sections of society, but who were each in possession of something the other needed.

  As the organist, Mr Baines, struck up the opening chords of the hymn ‘The Voice That Breathed o’er Eden’, Almina, who had been waiting in the entrance porch, took her first steps. She walked slowly and with as much calm and dignity as she could muster with all those eyes upon her, her gloved hand resting lightly on that of her uncle, Sir George Wombwell. There must have been nerves, but she was excited, too. Her soon-to-be-husband’s brother-in-law, Lord Burghclere, had remarked that she was something of a ‘naïve damsel’, but also that she appeared to be ‘head over ears in love’ and could barely contain herself in the weeks and days leading up to her wedding day.

  Perhaps she too
k some comfort from the knowledge that she looked exquisite. She was tiny, just over five foot tall, with blue eyes and a straight nose framed by glossy brown hair elegantly styled high on her head. Her future sister-in-law, Winifred Burghclere, described her as ‘very pretty, with an immaculate figure and tiny waist.’ In the language of the time, she was a veritable ‘Pocket Venus’.

  She wore a small wreath of orange blossoms under a veil of fine silk tulle. Her dress was by the House of Worth, of Paris. Charles Worth was the most fashionable couturier of the age and was known for his use of lavish fabrics and trimmings. Almina’s dress was made of the richest duchesse satin with a full court train and draped in a veil of lace caught up on one shoulder. The skirts were threaded with real orange flowers and Almina was wearing a gift from the bridegroom: a piece of very old and extremely rare French lace that had been incorporated into the dress.

  The whole ensemble announced Almina’s show-stopping arrival on the public stage. She had in fact been presented at Court by her aunt, Lady Julia Wombwell, in May 1893, so she had made her debut, but she had not been invited to the highly exclusive, carefully policed social occasions that followed. Almina’s paternity was the subject of a great deal of rumour, and no amount of fine clothes or immaculate manners could gain her access to the salons of the grand ladies who quietly ruled Society. So Almina had not attended all the crucial balls of her debut season, occasions that were designed to allow a young lady to attract the attentions of an eligible gentleman. Despite this, Almina had nonetheless secured a husband-to-be of the highest order, and she was dressed as befitted a woman who was making her ascent into the highest ranks of the aristocracy.

  Eight bridesmaids and two pages followed Almina: her cousin, Miss Wombwell, her fiancé’s two younger sisters, Lady Margaret and Lady Victoria Herbert, Lady Kathleen Cuffe, Princess Kathleen Singh and Princess Sophie Singh, Miss Evelyn Jenkins and Miss Davies. All the bridesmaids wore cream silk muslin over white satin skirts trimmed with pale blue ribbons. The large cream straw hats trimmed with silk muslin, feathers and ribbons completed a charming picture. The Hon. Mervyn Herbert and Lord Arthur Hay followed, dressed in Louis XV court costumes of white and silver, with hats to match.

  Almina had known her bridegroom for nearly a year and a half. They had never spent any time alone, but had met on half a dozen occasions at social gatherings. It was almost certainly not enough time for Almina to realise that the frock coat the Earl had been persuaded to wear on his wedding day was quite different from his usual casual style.

  As the young couple stood in front of the altar, the massed family and friends behind them represented a glittering cross-section of the great and the powerful, as well as a smattering of the rather suspect. On the right-hand side sat the bridegroom’s family: his stepmother, the Dowager Countess of Carnarvon and his half-brother the Hon. Aubrey Herbert, the Howards, the Earl of Pembroke, the Earls and Countesses of Portsmouth, Bathurst and Cadogan; friends such as Lord Ashburton, Lord de Grey, the Marquess and Marchioness of Bristol. The Duchesses of Marlborough and Devonshire were in attendance, as were Lord and Lady Charteris and the greater part of London Society.

  Lord Rosebery, the ex-Prime Minister, was a guest. He had travelled to Windsor Castle just four days previously to give his resignation to the Queen, who then asked Lord Salisbury to form a government. Queen Victoria, who had been a recluse for many years, was not present, but she sent greetings to the young couple. Her connection with the Carnarvons was long-standing: she was godmother to the Earl’s youngest sister.

  The bride’s family and friends were rather different. Almina’s French mother, Marie Wombwell, was born Marie Boyer, the daughter of a Parisian banker. It would have been easy to conclude, observing the two, that Almina had inherited her vivacity and style from Marie. Sir George Wombwell, brother of Marie’s late husband, had stepped in to give Almina away. The Wombwells were seated next to many representatives of the most influential and fabulously wealthy of the newly ennobled mercantile classes. Here were Sir Alfred de Rothschild, Baron and Baroness de Worms, Baron Ferdinand de Rothschild, Baron Adolphe de Rothschild, Lady de Rothschild, Mr Reuben Sassoon, four other Sassoon cousins, Mr Wertheimer, Mr and Mrs Ephrusi, Baron and Baroness de Hirsch. Both Marie and Sir Alfred had a great many friends in the theatre and the celebrated prima donna, Adelina Patti, now Madame Nicolini was also a guest.

  As Almina contemplated her destiny, standing in front of the group of illustrious churchmen who had been drafted in to officiate at her marriage, her hand in that of her new husband’s, she might well have felt overawed or nervous at the thought of married life. Perhaps she caught her mother’s eye and was reminded of just how far she had come. But then again, she must also have been conscious of the fact that with the marriage contract the Earl of Carnarvon had signed with Alfred de Rothschild, she was protected by a level of wealth so stupendous that it could buy respectability, social acceptance and access to one of the grandest and best-connected families in late-Victorian England. Almina went into St Margaret’s the illegitimate daughter of a Jewish banker and his French kept woman, but she emerged, to the strains of Wagner’s bridal march from Lohengrin, the 5th Countess of Carnarvon. Her transformation was complete.

  This remarkable ascent up the social ladder had not been entirely trouble-free. Even Rothschild money couldn’t atone for the fact that Mrs Marie Wombwell – widow of the heavy drinker and reckless gambler, Frederick Wombwell and, more importantly, the long-standing confidante of Sir Alfred – was not received in Society.

  Almina’s childhood was spent between Paris and London, her teenage years in 20 Bruton Street, W1, in the heart of Mayfair. There were also occasional visits to the Wombwells in Yorkshire. Sir George and Lady Julia remained very kind to Marie and her children even after her husband died. The address in Mayfair was excellent, but Marie Wombwell’s credentials were not.

  She had been a married woman, though estranged from her husband when she met Sir Alfred. Sir Alfred was a leading figure in public life; he had been a director of the Bank of England for twenty years, and was also a bachelor, an aesthete, and a confirmed man about town. He delighted in spending the vast family fortune on a lavish lifestyle that included ‘adoration dinners’, soirées for the pleasure of his gentlemen friends, at which they could meet the leading ladies of the day.

  Marie may have been introduced to Sir Alfred by her father, who knew him through connections in the banking world, or by Sir George and Lady Julia, who spent weekends as his guests at Halton House in Buckinghamshire. Alfred and Marie shared a passion for the theatre and the opera and became close friends, and then lovers. Alfred was a generous companion who provided handsomely for Marie and her daughter. Since Alfred was prepared to settle a vast sum of money on her, Almina was a serious contender in the marriage market. But even Marie could surely never in her wildest dreams have imagined that her daughter would make the leap to the heart of the Establishment.

  Apparently, this success rather went to Marie’s head. She was quite insistent that the venue for the wedding breakfast should be sufficiently grand to do justice to the occasion, but this presented considerable problems of etiquette. It was traditional for the celebrations to be given at the bride’s family home, but that was impossible, since her mother was beyond the pale and her father was, for form’s sake, referred to as her godfather. It was Rothschild money that was paying for the magnificent festivities, but they could not be held in a Rothschild house.

  Elsie, the 5th Earl’s stepmother and prime mover behind the wedding planning, had been fretting over this conundrum for weeks. As she wrote to the Countess of Portsmouth, the Earl’s devoted aunt, ‘We have a family difficulty. We have neither called upon her [Mrs Wombwell] nor received her, tho’ Almina of course has been with us constantly.’ With great delicacy, Elsie, who had an instinctive sweetness and had taken Almina under her wing, had been making enquiries amongst such family friends as Lord and Lady Stanhope, hoping to secure the use of a neutral but
impressive venue for the wedding breakfast. Various houses were offered but not accepted before, in the end, Mr Astor offered the loan of Lansdowne House on the south side of Berkeley Square, and Marie agreed that this would do very well.

  So, after the church service, the guests made their way to the Mayfair mansion. It was a stately house, designed by Robert Adam and built in 1763, with many elegant reception rooms. The entrance hall was filled with hydrangeas; then each room was themed with different flowers. As in St Margaret’s, palms and ferns featured prominently in the saloon, where Gottlieb’s celebrated orchestra, which had been brought over from Vienna, was playing the latest fashionable waltzes. Drinks were served in one room, the wedding breakfast, complete with a three-tiered cake, in another. Mrs Wombwell greeted guests wearing a dark purple dress, while Elsie, the Dowager Countess of Carnarvon, whose rank naturally dictated that she be first in the receiving line, wore a dress of green and pink shot silk.

  The wedding gifts to both bride and groom were carefully catalogued and displayed at the party. From Sir Alfred, Almina had received a magnificent emerald necklace and tiara, jewels befitting her new rank, to be worn when entertaining at Highclere or in town. She was given a vast quantity of beautiful things, from crystal vases to gold scent bottles and endless objets de virtu. The bridegroom was presented with equally charming bejewelled ornaments and adornments, from rings to cigarette cases.

  After all the worries beforehand, the day passed off without a hitch. If there were mutterings at the elevation of Miss Wombwell, they were muted. Mrs Wombwell behaved impeccably and everyone maintained a discreet silence over the part played by Alfred de Rothschild. In fact, the spectacular wedding was judged to have been one of the most successful events of the Season.

  Perhaps the real moment of anxiety for Almina came not when she stepped into the church or Lansdowne House, where she was after all surrounded by familiar faces, but when she was driven away from her old life, her girlhood, and began her journey to Highclere. She must have received some words of encouragement from her mother, surely a kiss and a blessing from her father. But now she was embarking on her first steps as a wife, in the company of a virtual stranger who had so far shown no real inclination to get to know her.