The Dukes (51 page)

From Consuelo we also learn something of the Churchill character, which we can recognise in the Duke's antecedents and kinsmen. He had a passion for pageantry and magnificent spectacle (which Win­ston shared), but was otherwise a silent brooder. Many of the dukes have had a morbid, pessimistic dark nature.

The 10th Duke of Marlborough (1897-1972), Consuelo's son, did his best to retrieve Blenheim from the gloom in which his unhappy father had plunged it. A great deal was spent on restoration in 1966 (the Ministry of Works contributing £55,000), and those great unwelcoming rooms, built to impress rather than to be comfortable, heard some laughter. He continued to live, however, in nineteenth- century fashion, choosing to ignore the changing times around him. He had wit, but a forbidding presence and gruff manner made those who came into contact with him uncomfortable. On one occasion, an American guest asked politely if he might try one of the Duke's excellent cigars, and received the abrupt reply, "They don't grow on trees, y'know." The 1st Duke would have understood. After a row with Randolph Churchill he is supposed to have shouted, "Never darken the doorstep of my palace again !"

The Duke died only two months after his second marriage, to Laura Canfield, grand-daughter of the Earl of Wemyss, and was suc­ceeded in the honours by his son, the present Duke of Marlborough, born in 1926.

And what honours! Apart from being Marquess of Blandford, Earl of Sunderland, Baron Spencer and Baron Churchill in this country, he is a Prince of the Holy Roman Empire, and Prince of Mindelheim, in Swabia, dignities which he holds by virtue of his descent from
the
1st Duke of Marlborough. More impressive than any title is the sur­name he bears, for his ancestors and his kinsmen have elevated
the
name of Churchill above any peerage degree. From Sir Winston Churchill (1620-1688) to Sir Winston Churchill (1874-1965), the family strengths and weaknesses have produced with consistency either spectacular or lamentable personalities, but rarely an indifferent one. They are not the kind of people that can be ignored. Egotistical and explosive, they are fighters, who rise to a challenge and thrive on argument. They are not noted for their kindness. From the Sunderlands they inherit a passion for publicity, from Duchess Sarah a per­verse delight in confrontation, and from the 1st Duke a warmth of heart which has made them time and again an easy prey to love. One feels that the Churchills long to be sweet and gentle, but cannot help being harsh and forbidding.

The 11th Duke of Marlborough was a captain in the Life Guards, then studied at an agricultural college. He has married three times, always with the din of public interest around his ears. At his first marriage, to Susan Hornby in 1951, the Queen (now Queen Mother), Queen Mary, and Princess Margaret were all present. The marriage was dissolved in 1960 on the grounds of his wife's adultery. A year later, in a chaotic Greek ceremony in Paris where newsgatherers were in greater number than guests, he married Athina Livanos, known to the world as "Tina" Onassis, as she had previously been married to Aristotle Onassis, the Greek ship­owner. Tina's life was a pathetic study in malignant fate. Though beautiful, and enclosed on all sides by millionaires, tragedy stalked her. By her marriage to Onassis, she had two children, a boy and a girl. Their son died in an air-crash at the age of twenty-four, and the daughter, Christina, has attempted suicide. Tina's sister twice married another millionaire Greek, Stavros Niarchos, before she, too, killed herself. Tina herself divorced Lord Blandford (he was not yet Duke) in 1971, and married her brother-in-law, the same Niarchos. Within two years, Tina was dead.

Meanwhile, Blandford took as his third wife a Swedish countess, Rosita Douglas, who is the present Duchess of Marlborough. They have a son, born in 1974. Meanwhile, the heir, born in 1955, son of the first marriage to Susan Hornby, has had his indiscretions subjected to intense public scrutiny while his qualities go largely unnoticed. The Churchill saga seems likely to continue as colourfully as ever.

The renown of the Duke of Wellington has been like a heavy hand clapped over the mouth of his descendants. So powerful is his legend, so brilliant his reputation, that they have remained forever in his shadow, borrowing their existence from him, speaking only to pay tribute to him. Until very recently, successive Dukes of Wellington were virtually unnoticeable. The life of the Iron Duke's son, who suc­ceeded as 2nd Duke (1807-1884), illustrates very clearly the emascu­lating effect of a father only one step short of a deity. He tried to enter public life, was Master of the Horse, a Knight of the Garter, and a Privy Councillor, but he did not make his mark. As he could not be as great as his father (who could?) he devoted himself to trying to please him. This was not so easy either. He was once asked whether his father had shown him any kindness, to which he replied, "No, he never even so much as patted me on the shoulder when I was a boy, but it was because he hated my mother."
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In adult life, too, Douro was always endeavouring to merit the love of his eminent father. On another occasion, when the great Duke was at Walmer Castle, the officers of a neighbouring garrison called to pay their respects. The major at this garrison was Lord Douro, who thought it would be absurd to take part in the visit, as he saw his father every day in the normal course. Consequently, the Duke invited all the officers to dinner, except his own son, and during the meal said to the Colonel, "By the way, who is your major? for he has not called on me."
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In the end, the 2nd Duke of Wellington dedicated his life in the service of his father. He edited the Iron Duke's correspendence in twenty-three volumes, an undertaking of such immensity that it can only have been a labour of love. "No son ever erected a finer monu­ment."
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Augustus Hare met the Duke when he was aged, "dressed like a poor pensioner", living at Stratfield Saye amongst the relics of his father. This was in 1875. "It was touching to see the old man, who for the greater part of his lifetime existed in unloving awe of a father he had always feared and been little noticed by, now, in the evening of life, treasuring up every reminiscence of him and con­sidering every memorial as sacred. In his close stuffy little room were the last pheasants the Duke had shot, the miniatures of his mother and aunt and of himself and his brother as children, his grand­father's portrait, a good one of Marshal Saxe, and the picture of the horse Copenhagen."
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He died, without fanfare, at Brighton railway station. The next two dukes were both his nephews, and the 5th Duke was his great-nephew. All three were inconspicuous, led military careers, and married modestly. In 1941 the 6th Duke of Wellington suc­ceeded (1912-1943); he was killed in action in the landing at Salerno, and is buried in Italy. His death at the age of thirty-one unexpectedly diverted the dukedom to his uncle, a clever diplomat and architect called Lord Gerald Wellesley (1885-1972), who was a son of the 4th Duke. Wellesley was well known before he came to the title, more so than the nephew whom he succeeded, for he and his wife, Dorothy Wellesley, were near the centre of literary and artistic life in London. Dorothy Wellesley was herself a distinguished poet, much admired by W. B. Yeats, with many volumes of verse to her credit. They were at home with the Bells, Vanessa and Clive, or the Nicolsons, Harold and Vita, more than in society drawing-rooms. Dorothy was a close friend of Vita Sackville-West (who, of course, was a fellow poet) and it was she who first saw Sissinghurst Castle and brought it to Vita and Harold's attention; then they bought it and made it the famous romantic house and garden it is today. Wellesley served in the diplomatic service in Petrograd, spoke fluent Russian, and revisited Russia in later years. He served in World War II. The restoration of Castle Hill in North Devonshire was the best known of his architectural projects. In later years he earned much admiration as an historian; it is not generally acknowledged that the keepers of museums and archives throughout the country held the Duke in very high regard, for he was a gentleman intellectual, informed in all branches of the arts and accomplished in many of them. He wrote five books, four of which were on the subject of his illustrious ancestor. His most precious inheritance was the great archive at Apsley House and Stratfield Saye which he and his librarian Francis Needham both skilfully arranged and preserved. His wife died in 1956, after a lifetime's suffering from neuritis of the extremities, which made the tips of her fingers permanently tense. The Duke spent the rest of his life bringing to public attention more and more information about the 1st Duke of Wellington.

If anyone should not yet be convinced of the power of genetic inheritance, he might reflect for a moment on the Wellington line, and on the Marlborough characteristics. The word "duty" was never off the Iron Duke's lips from one day to the next; his despatches and correspondence are full of references to duty. It was the concept by which he ruled his life. His son burnt midnight oil editing the Duke's letters for public consumption, impelled by a sense of duty. Gerald Wellesley, the 7th Duke, gave his London home to the nation out of duty. In 1947 he made over to the country Apsley House at Hyde Park Corner, whose address has long been No. 1, London, con­verting it into a museum full of personal relics of Wellington, and retaining for himself a small flat on the top floor, free of rent and rates. Apsley House was the Duke's personal property, having been bought by the Iron Duke, rather than it having been given to him by the nation, as was the case with Stratfleld Saye. It is now adminis­tered by the Victoria and Albert Museum. His son, the 8th and present Duke of Wellington (1915— ), has spent more than £135,000 on converting part of the grounds at Stratfield Saye into a pleasure park for urban dwellers who need some pleasant rural surroundings, money that he can expect very little return on, since he eschews lions and funfairs. "I have a duty to provide land for recreation," he said, adding that it was for him "an opportunity to repay in some measure the debt of gratitude our family owes to the nation".
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The house was opened to the public in 1974.
^[8]

Fittingly, the 8th Duke of Wellington has had a military career, serving in World War II, and at one time commanding the House­hold Cavalry. His duchess is the daughter of a major-general, and they have four sons and a daughter; the heir, Lord Douro, was born in 1945. Wellington holds a number of honours awarded to himself, instead of inherited, including the Legion d'Honneur from France, the M.V.O., the O.B.E. and the M.C. They cannot, of course, compare with the resplendent list he has inherited from the Iron Duke, whereby he is Duke of Ciudad Rodrigo in Spain, and a Grandee of the First Class in that country, Duke of Vittoria in Portugal, and Prince of Waterloo. He still receives £571 annually from the Belgian government in recognition of the victory of Water­loo.

Perhaps we are not meant to expect justice in genetic inheritance, but we cannot be reproached for observing its absence. The Welles- leys are a more preferable race of men and women than the Churchills; they have grace and tact, decent manners and an agree­able nature which makes for good company; they have, too, inherited a concept of honour which they would not (cannot) disgrace. None of this could be said of the Churchills, who have shown themselves time and again to be unkindly, rude, boorish, erratic, irascible, hot- tempered and egotistical. And yet it is the Churchills that continue to breed men of exceptional ability, men who have been in and out of the pages of our history for centuries, while the Wellesleys pro­duced only one man, a giant, but a giant alone, in whose shadow all descendants shrink to human size.

references

1.
   
D.N.B.

2.
   
W. M. Thackeray,
The Four Georges,
p. 33.

3.
   
Elizabeth Longford,
Wellington,
Vol. II, p. 405.

4.
   
Greville, VI, 364.

5.
    
D.N.B.

6.
   
Edith Marchioness of Londonderry,
Frances Anne,
p. 99.

7.
   
Augustus Hare,
In My Solitary Life,
p. 162.

8.
   
Longford,
op. cit.,
I, 166-7.

9.
    
Winston S. Churchill,
Marlborough,
Vol. I, pp. 69-70.

10.
    
ibid.,
I, 143.

11.
      
Hist. MSS. Comm.,
Bathurst MSS, p. 216. -12. D.N.B.

13.
    
Churchill,
op. cit.,
1,470.

14.
   
Literary Gazette,
1827, p. 121, from the Earl of Bridgewater's

Family Anecdotes.

15.
    
Walpole, XXV, 609.

16.
    
Emma Lady Brownlow,
Slight Reminiscences of a Septuagena­

rian,
p. 144.

17.
    
Cecil Woodham-Smith,
Queen Victoria,
Vol. I, p. 220.

18.
   
Annual Register,
1852, p. 187.

19.
    
Greville, VI, 370.

20.
   
Annual Register,
1852, p. 485.