House Guests 1934-1938" by William Cross, FSA Scot
A Monument of Depravity
Book review from Michael Keyton : Author of " The Gift"
I think the camera
has been a great leveller. A case in point is the interwar years, the thirties
especially. Whereas in earlier centuries anyone with money could accord great
artists to immortalise them on canvas, the 1930’s saw kings and princes,
politicians and minor nobility recorded by amateurs on camera. They make
for a great and evocative record, but it’s the working classes that really
shine in this medium. The aristocracy come across as slightly sinister, wooden
puppets with their grave expressions, plus fours and tweeds—the women
especially, many of them dour and looking like elderly men in drag.
This why Will Cross’s
latest book is such a joy to read for any obsessed with this period.
The cover has a
childlike simplicity. It hides, though, a myriad of sins. The book is awash
with vintage photographs of the great and the good, pictures that force the eye
to linger—especially with the waspish comments that accompany them, which is
partly the value of the book.
How many of us have
cardboard boxes filled with old black and whites of long dead relatives about
whom we know nothing? Will Cross breathes life into these pictures. In some
cases, unless you have a strong stomach, you almost wish he hadn’t.
In its heyday, the
interwar years, the country house weekend was a ritual of frivolity and class
privilege in a grey and socially deprived world. Looking back it brings to mind
the butterfly as winter approaches—in this case world war, death duties and a
working class with expanding horizons. By examining the notorious parties of
Tredegar House, Will Cross has focused on a small but fascinating niche in
local history.
The death of Courtney
Morgan, Evan Morgan leapt from his father’s oppressive shadow into a
world of sunshine and
excess, and in doing so helped bankrupt an ancient and vastly wealthy estate.
His house parties were legendary, attracting Russian princesses, Greek royalty,
and . . . H G Wells, lecherous and unashamedly parasitic. Guests mingled
amongst rent boys and spies—which makes for wonderful gossip—and there is
plenty of that in the book.
What gives this slim
volume its heft is the meticulous research gleaned from what records there are
of actual guests, their names and significance and, most importantly, when they
attended. It’s a historical record, meaningless to many, but fascinating to the
historian.
Amongst the names
that crop up were two I found of particular interest: Evan Morgan’s factotum,
Captain Henry (Harry) Ware, and the Marchesa Luisa Casati.
If I were to rewrite
‘The Gift’ I’d incorporate Captain Ware as the satanic familiar acceding to his
master’s lubricious desires—for a price. Ware was Evan Morgan’s
procurer-in-chief, haunting docksides and pubs for rent-boys that his master
went through like tissues Evan Morgan’s infatuations were brutally brief,
usually ending with cash or a present and a warning to disappear—or else. And
with Captain Ware the warning was real. Several disappeared never to be seen
again.
Of another guest the
Marchesa Luisa Casati, who was neither dour or dowdy. The Marchesa brought much
more joy to the world—unless you shared Evan Morgan’s proclivities. She
gate-crashed several of his house parties, and as one prone to ‘parading with a
pair of leashed cheetahs and wearing live snakes as jewellery,’ she invariably
made her presence known.. Not for the prudish perhaps, one contemporary
referring to her as ‘that international monument of depravity.’
Rent boys or an
‘international monument of depravity’ A choice I’ve yet to encounter and
perhaps never will—certainly not in Tredegar House, currently owned by the
National Trust.
MICHAEL KEYTON
Enquiries : Please Contact the Author William Cross by e-mail
williecross@aol.com
