by Richard Mead
Not long after Daphne was born, Gerald moved into management when he took on Wyndham’s Theatre, but he continued to act himself. Not one for Shakespeare and other great classics, he tended towards the lighter end of the theatrical spectrum, but was nevertheless one of the foremost performers of his time, synonymous with the West End over nearly three decades.
Daphne’s milieu was thus entirely different from Boy’s, the common thread being the vigorous social lives enjoyed by their respective fathers, but whereas Freddie’s world was focused on sport, commerce and the services, Gerald’s was firmly embedded in all aspects of the arts. It was thus not surprising that Daphne began writing stories and poetry at an early age, encouraged by Gerald and by her governess Maud Waddell, known to all as ‘Tod’, who joined the household in 1918 when Daphne was eleven. Some twenty years older than Daphne, Tod was to become a great confidante and a considerable influence on her life. She was herself a very strong character, without any formal training for her role as governess, but with a love for great literature and particularly poetry, which she imparted to her receptive young pupil. She left the du Mauriers at the end of 1921, after not much more than three years, but the two women began a regular correspondence which would last until Tod physically re-entered Daphne’s life as governess to her own children in 1945.
The only outside education which Daphne received was three terms in 1925 at a finishing school at Camposena, outside Paris, but academically it was not a great success. In the holidays, and after she had left, she concentrated on writing both poetry and short stories, the latter populated with unpleasant men and weak women. She was encouraged by her father, who felt that there was the making of a good writer in her, and she was motivated by a new found enthusiasm, this time for Cornwall. Because of Gerald’s work, the family lived in London, in a large and attractive Queen Anne house close to Hampstead Heath called Cannon Hall, but in the summer of 1926 he and Muriel took the family down to Cornwall with a view to buying a holiday home there. They discovered that the house opposite the pub in Bodinnick was for sale and put in an offer which was accepted in time for them to move in that autumn. Ferryside, as it was renamed, had been part of a boatyard and was in ramshackle condition, but it had tremendous character and was beautifully positioned, looking across the river to the brightly painted houses of Fowey, crowding the hillside on the far bank.
Daphne was enchanted by Ferryside, Fowey and the south coast of Cornwall. She knew from the start that she would be able to live very happily there and felt instinctively that this new environment would provide fuel for her creative talent. In the following May, after the necessary renovations had been completed, Muriel moved in with Daphne and her other two daughters, Angela and Jeanne, respectively three years older and four years younger. Daphne immediately immersed herself in her surroundings, going for long walks past Polruan to the cliffs along the coast and through Fowey up into the woods and fields beyond. She also started to sail, learning very quickly how to handle small craft from one of the local boatmen. When Muriel and her sisters returned to London on the day after Daphne’s twentieth birthday, she stayed on alone for the first time in her life and loved every moment of it.
Throughout her childhood Daphne had an extraordinarily close relationship with Gerald, partly because Muriel, called ‘Mo’ by her family, seemed to prefer Angela, and partly because she was closer in temperament to the son Gerald had always wanted but never had. Indeed Daphne went out of her way to behave like a boy, dressing in shorts and shirts rather than dresses and wearing her hair short. She fantasized that she was a boy and behaved accordingly. When it became physically apparent that she was in all respects a girl, she became quite distressed and this confusion was to remain with her for some years and recur intermittently later, although she learnt how to shut the boy side of her ‘in a box’. As she entered her late teens, she found other emotions awakening. She developed a crush on Fernande Yvon, one of the teachers at Camposena, and began to suspect that she might have ‘Venetian tendencies’, du Maurier family code for being lesbian. Although she went on holiday with Ferdy, as she called Mlle Yvon, and it was possible, if not likely, that the two women went beyond simple friendship, no great romance ensued, although Daphne remained in touch with Ferdy for the rest of the latter’s life.
It became clear not very long afterwards that Daphne was just as drawn to the opposite sex. In early 1929 she went on a winter sports holiday to Caux in Switzerland, staying with her father’s friend, the novelist Edgar Wallace, and his wife Pat. There she met Carol Reed, the illegitimate son of Herbert Beerbohm Tree, an actor-manager like her father, albeit of an older generation.4 Reed came from the same background and they had a number of friends in common. He was also tall, good-looking and rather Bohemian, which she fancied herself to be at the time. Daphne was immediately attracted to him and they became lovers.
Gerald was not at all happy about the affair despite the fact that Violet Tree, Reed’s aunt, was a friend. He was in fact jealous, as Daphne was his favourite daughter and he had become very possessive of her. Muriel was equally hostile and in such circumstances, Daphne reacted in just the way they would not have wished, by consummating the relationship. However, this was no great passion, not least because she became the dominant partner, which she found rather unsatisfying. The affair continued for some two years, but by the summer of 1931 it had petered out, although Daphne and Reed remained good friends.
Part of the reason for her waning interest in Reed was that Daphne had realized that her creative powers were enhanced whenever she was down in Cornwall, so it was necessary to part from him, as he was by now immersed in his career in London and elsewhere. She was given permission by her parents, doubtless anxious to keep the lovers apart, to spend the winter of 1929/30 at Ferryside, provided only that she slept in one of the cottages opposite, working in the house during the day. In May 1929 she had had one of her short stories, ‘And now to God the Father’, published in The Bystander for the first time. This was followed the following month by another story, ‘A Difference in Temperament’. She felt, however, that she had the bones of a novel lurking in the back of her mind, and she needed the environment of Cornwall and the seclusion of Ferryside in winter to bring it out.
Whilst learning to sail, Daphne had become intrigued by the hulk of the schooner Jane Slade, lying in the Pont inlet between Bodinnick and Polruan, with its figurehead intact. She became even more interested when she learnt from Adams, the boatman, that he was a descendant of the woman after whom the vessel was named. Out of this emerged The Loving Spirit, which told the tale of four generations of the Coombe family starting with Janet, loosely based on Jane Slade herself, and moving on to her adored son, Joseph, grandson Christopher and great-granddaughter Jennifer and centred on the fictional town of Plyn. Daphne had written the first three parts of the novel by Christmas 1929 and completed the last part by the end of March in the following year. It was published by Heinemann in February 1931, to critical and public acclaim. Boy read it soon after publication.
On the face of it, Boy and Daphne were not obviously suited to one another. He was every inch the army officer, disciplined, smart, practical, organized and self-confident. If there was one trait for which he failed to achieve the top grade in his annual assessments, it was imagination, where he was scored more often than not as average. He was also highly gregarious, with a circle of friends and acquaintances which went far beyond the regiment and even the Army. Daphne was rather shy, almost anti-social, and already much preferred Cornwall to London. She favoured casual clothes, especially slacks and jerseys, over smart suits and pretty dresses. By the middle class standards of the day she was rather unconventional. On the other hand, if there was one characteristic she possessed in abundance, it was imagination.
What they shared immediately was a love of the sea. By the time they met, she was a highly competent sailor, who had graduated from a rowing boat to a motor boat, the Cora Ann, and then to a 32-foot yawl-rigged fi
shing lugger, the Marie-Louise, built for her by Jane Slade’s grandsons. Boy also had a far wider range of interests than the average army officer, enjoyed literature and the theatre and was a natural conversationalist. Like her, he had a highly developed sense of humour. There was an immediate connection, with the result that they spent not only the day of their meeting, but also the following two in each others company.
There was also a considerable physical attraction. Daphne was not classically beautiful, but she was undeniably attractive, with light brown, almost blonde hair, clear blue eyes and a boyish figure, whilst he had a strong face and, even in his late thirties, an athletic build. He was naturally courteous and attentive to women but, perhaps more importantly, he had a strong personality and could be very masterful, in contrast to Carol Reed.
Notwithstanding that Boy had only just been posted to the 2nd Battalion, he was able to take yet more leave and was back at Fowey within a week, visiting again and again as spring moved into summer. ‘We spend most of the time’ wrote Daphne to Tod, ‘cursing each other for spoiling the paint on the boat and yelling warnings if a lobster pot floats near the propeller’5 and this easy familiarity was one of the factors which made him realize very quickly that this was the woman with whom he wished to share his life. He proposed marriage, but Daphne rejected him initially on the grounds that she did not believe in the institution of matrimony. It took a visit to Pirbright to meet some of his brother officers to persuade her otherwise. Boy arranged for her to stay with Eric and Estelle Dorman-Smith and it was Chink, much taken with Daphne, who persuaded her that to live together without getting married would spell the end of Boy’s career. Daphne subsequently turned the tables by proposing to Boy herself, a typically unconventional act.
Once they had agreed to wed, Boy had to obtain the permission of his Commanding Officer, Paddy Beaumont-Nesbitt, but he was a friend and posed no problem. However, Peter Carrington, the son of a Grenadier and later an officer in the regiment himself, recalled his father being disgusted that there was opposition from a number of officers who felt that marrying the daughter of an actor was inappropriate.6 The visit to Rousham to meet Nancy and Grace went very well, as did the one to Uncle Monty at his house near Winchester. Daphne was much more nervous about how to deal with Gerald.
Gerald had in fact burst into tears when he first heard of the impending engagement. However, by the time Daphne took Boy to meet him and Muriel on 6 July, he had become reconciled to the new development. Gerald’s brother Guy had been killed in the Great War and Gerald, who had served briefly and without any distinction at the end of the war,7 had developed a great regard for the Army and was impressed by Boy’s DSO. He gave his blessing and the engagement was announced three days later.
Though Daphne had given in about getting married, she got her way on the wedding itself. There were to be no society church or Guards Chapel, no line of Grenadier officers forming an arch with their swords, no large reception and almost no guests at all. The ceremony took place at the beautiful old church of St Wyllow at Lanteglos, near Polruan. Gerald and Muriel were there, but the only other relative present on either side was Geoffrey Millar, Daphne’s cousin. The Hunkins were also invited, with George acting as Boy’s best man. Daphne’s two sisters were away on holiday and, for some reason, neither Nancy nor Grace came nor any other members of the Browning or Alt families.
Early in the morning on 19 July Daphne, her parents and Geoffrey travelled by Cora Ann to the Pont bridge, walking up from there to the church, whilst Boy and the Hunkins followed in Ygdrasil. Immediately after the service, Boy and Daphne left in his boat for the Helford River, mooring in Frenchman’s Creek and pottering about for a week, only interrupted by Boy’s batman, Richards, rowing out provisions from time to time.
Chapter 9
Marriage (1932–1939)
After their somewhat unconventional honeymoon, it was down to earth for the newlyweds. Boy had his work to return to at the 2nd Battalion in Pirbright, plunging straight into the collective training programme for the year. At the beginning of 1933 he was transferred to the 1st Battalion on a temporary basis as second-in-command and stayed for just over a year, three months of which were spent at the Senior Officers School at Sheerness.
The purpose of the Senior Officers School was to prepare majors for battalion command and, at the same time, to inculcate the students with a common military doctrine. It was moderately successful in the first objective and largely unsuccessful in the second. Brigadier ‘Tommy’ Lindsell, one of the great logistics officers of his generation, was the Commandant. In his report on Boy he wrote: ‘A really good type of officer who will make a first rate C.O. He has sound ideas and is prepared to back them with sound arguments. A keen student of his profession. He shows marked capacity as a leader and as an instructor. He has plenty of energy and drive.’ It was clear that marriage would make no difference to Boy’s professional life or diminish his personal ambition.
For Daphne, the adjustment to married life was much more difficult. Boy turned out to be not quite what she had expected; indeed his ability to show a different face to her from the one he showed to the rest of the world was and would continue to be very marked. To almost anyone else, he appeared to be strong, confident and decisive. To her, it seemed that at times he was looking for an emotional prop. This manifested itself initially in two ways. Boy was still suffering from the recurring nightmares he had experienced since the Great War, and would frequently wake up screaming, looking to her for comfort. He also suffered on occasion from ‘me tum’ and other minor ailments which she, initially at least, put down to some form of hypochondria. Instead of dominating her, as she had rather expected, she found that she was in some ways the stronger partner.
Realizing that his choice of career ran the risk of forcing her into the sort of life which she would find uncongenial, Boy bent over backwards to make her comfortable with her new situation. He took on the du Maurier nicknames and the codewords they used in everyday speech, whilst the two of them developed their own unusual form of English, to some extent based on Cornish dialect, not only for speech, but for letters to each other. Boy and Daphne also adopted a number of routines, called ‘routes’, such as meals at fixed times, although these were probably derived more from his habits than hers.
By inclination, Boy was at heart a social animal, whereas she was a lone wolf. Any wish on his part to go on weekend house parties or to formal dinners or dances, as he had done as a bachelor, was not reciprocated by her. She made a particularly poor Army wife, with no enthusiasm for participation in regimental events and little interest in the wives and families of the other ranks. ‘Can’t see myself giving away prizes to the Troops and asking after the sergeant-major’s twins’, she wrote to her confidante Tod.1 Boy, for his part, was happy to indulge her likes and dislikes as much as he possibly could.
Luckily the 1st Battalion was at Wellington Barracks during 1933, so it was possible for them to live for the time being in one of the two cottages at the bottom of the garden at Cannon Hall, which Gerald had given Daphne as a wedding present.2 The cottage was sufficiently detached for the couple not to live in the senior du Mauriers’ pockets and they were able to develop some joint friendships, including the tennis player Bunny Austin and his wife Phyllis. However, Daphne found the role of housewife very difficult. She appealed for help to her father’s friend the actress Gladys Cooper, who recommended that she take on Lily Bocock, one of her own former staff. Lily came as cook and fitted in well with the household, even going as far as to succumb to the amorous advances of Guardsman Richards,3 whom before long she had married.
By the time of her own wedding Daphne had already had published a second book, I’ll Never Be Young Again and had finished writing a third, The Progress of Julius, neither of which received the acclaim of her first novel, but now the novelty of marriage and the demands of creating a home called a temporary halt to her writing. Moreover, within months she was pregnant and her first child, Tes
sa, was born on 15 July 1933. Daphne was almost as reluctant a mother as she was a housewife, taking on a nanny immediately and leaving the care of the infant almost entirely in her hands. Rather like the heroine of The Loving Spirit, she had desperately wanted a son and could work up little interest in her daughter. Boy, on the other hand, was an attentive father as far as his duties allowed.
Shortly after his return from the Senior Officers School, Boy was posted back to the 2nd Battalion as second-in-command to Beaumont-Nesbitt. The battalion was located first at Windsor and then at Aldershot, so the couple rented the Old Rectory at Frimley. Daphne felt much happier outside the metropolis and turned to writing again, but she was set back in her tracks by the sudden death from cancer of Gerald in April 1934. Although the event brought her much closer to her mother than she had ever been, she was devastated, but she derived a great deal of comfort by writing a biography of her father, Gerald: A Portrait, which was published before the end of the year to excellent reviews and even better sales. Her creative powers restored and encouraged by Boy, she decided that she would spend as much time in Fowey as she could, writing her next novel, Jamaica Inn, which turned out to be one of her most popular.
Boy in the meantime was continuing to impress his superiors, all the more so when Beaumont-Nesbitt was sent on the one year course at the Imperial Defence College, leaving his right hand man in effective command. It was Boy’s good fortune that the battalion was now in 1 Guards Brigade, which was commanded from May 1935 by Thorne. The latter was still a strong supporter, but whilst he wrote in Boy’s confidential report in 1935 that ‘I would much rather have him as a C.O. in peacetime or on active service than many more senior officers’, he was also perceptive enough to remark, ‘he must learn to realize that there is a breaking point and that reserves of nervous energy are difficult to build up at times.’ The GOC-in-C of Aldershot Command, General Sir Francis Gathorne-Hardy, whilst recommending him for advancement, made another point: ‘Major Browning is himself capable of continuous exertion and therefore at times may be a hard taskmaster. In command he will, I have no doubt, learn the limits of others.’ Boy was clearly continuing to stretch both himself and his subordinates.
