The great proconsular figure of Lord Curzon holds immense fascination for anyone as interested in the quirks and byways of human nature as in brilliance of intellect and ferocity of will. A man noted for the splendor of his way of life even in an age of magnificos, unable to resist women while regarding them in no way as the equal of men, as capable of poring over a butcher’s bill at 2:30 in the morning as of planning a great enterprise of state, Curzon often bewildered those around him. What must he have been like as a parent? And how would the legacy of such a father affect his three daughters, daughters of a man who longed above all for a male heir? Would he inspire or overwhelm them, and would they discover the happiness he found with their mother or the disharmony that overtook his second marriage?
In writing their story I am above all grateful to their children: to Lord Ravensdale (Nicholas Mosley) for making available to me the whole of his aunt Irene’s copious diaries, early family letters and photographs; to David Metcalfe for his generosity in allowing me access to his family papers and letters, his mother’s diaries and his wonderful collection of her photographs; to Davina Eastwood for all her help with memories and reminiscences, and particularly for her friendship, despite her reservations about the writing of such an intimate family portrait; and to Vivien Forbes Adam for many fascinating talks and memories of her parents.
I would also like to offer my most grateful thanks to Lord Holderness for so kindly allowing me to quote from the letters of his father, Lord Halifax; to Francis Sitwell for letting me read and quote from the diaries of his mother, Georgia Sitwell; to Sir Edward Cazalet for generously sending me copies of the diaries of his uncle, Victor Cazalet, to read and quote from; and to Christopher Davson for allowing me access to the papers of his grandmother, Elinor Glyn, and the essays sent to her by Professor Thomas Lindsay. Lord Rosslyn was extremely kind in allowing me to see the unpublished memoir of his mother, Lady Loughborough, and to quote from it. I am most grateful to Lord Romsey for permission to quote from the diaries of Lord and Lady Mountbatten; to Hugo Vickers for his extracts from the diary of Gladys, Duchess of Marlborough; to Mrs. Westropp for the loan of the late Miss Monica Sheriffe’s Melton Mowbray photograph albums; and to Mr. Frank Cakebread for the loan of his photographs of Savehay Farm, Denham.
I am very grateful to Robert Barrett for his genealogical research; to Janet Tomlinson for her help with photographs; to Miss Betty Hanley for photographs and descriptions of the Château de Candé in the time of her aunt, Fern Bedaux; to Sir Dudley and Lady Forwood for their hospitality and reminiscences of the Duke of Windsor; to Dame Gillian Wagner for information and letters relating to her uncle, General Sir Miles Graham, and for photographs; and to Count Franco Grandi for all he told me about his father.
Among those who helped me with their memories of the sisters, their families, their friends and their times were Michael Clayton, Lady Clarissa Collin (whom I must also thank for photographs of her father), the late Quentin Crewe, Lady Kitty and Mr. Frank Giles, Viscount Monckton of Brenchley, the Honorable Lady Mosley, Nigel Nicolson, the Countess of Plymouth, Kenneth Rose, Alfred Shaughnessy, Lady Thorneycroft, the late Michael Tree, Alice Winn and Elizabeth Winn, all of whom I would like to thank. As always the staffs of the British Library, the London Library and the Kensington and Chelsea Library were immensely helpful, as were Mollie Chalk, archivist at Broadlands, and Helen Langley, head of Modern Political Papers at the Bodleian.
I am also immensely grateful to David Metcalfe and to Nicholas Mosley for kindly reading my manuscript and offering their comments and, last but not least, to the superlative editing of Benjamin Buchan of Weidenfeld & Nicolson. Any mistakes are mine, not his.
Anne de Courcy
June 2000