In 1906 Maxine was the first actor of note to appear in San Francisco following the big earthquake of April that year. She perhaps accepted because of her remaining family links there, but apart from the occasional visit when she appeared on stage in the city, she more or less lost touch with her father and stepmother after this date and they became part of a life which held little relevance to her. Two of her brothers were dead## and the youngest, Sam, was a drunk whom Maxine tried to help but eventually gave up on. She never could stand drunks.
By this time she had played many roles but was at her best playing upper-class Englishwomen, parts she frequently reprised because they were what her fans wanted. But Maxine was becoming bored with it all and a failed production of Under the Greenwood Tree in both New York and London seemed to provide the impetus she needed to move on. She wrote to a contemporary, the distinguished British actress Constance Collier, that while she admired people who had a conscience about their art, the only thing that appealed to her was ‘great big receipts’ – large enough for her to think of retiring from the stage. ‘This is the worst tour we have ever had or will ever have,’ she continued, ‘but we shall make fourteen thousand pounds in the twenty weeks so we just shut our teeth and say “Wot t’hell!” and wait for June ... ’5
In August 1907 there was a half-hearted attempt at reconciliation with her husband in Trouville, but this came to an end when Nat picked up and read a letter she was writing, in which she stated that she was bored with him, and that she was now only ever happy when in England. He pocketed the letter, and when he subsequently divorced her on grounds of desertion he used it in his evidence. It had been his original intention to cite J.P. Morgan, Alfred de Rothschild and Lord Rosebery, among others, in a charge of multiple infidelities, and he was only persuaded with difficulty by his attorney that it was unnecessary to be so vindictive. Instead, he divorced Maxine for desertion and the uncontested case in Reno took only seven minutes of the court’s time.
Jackwood was leased to Max Beerbohm and later sold for half what Nat originally paid for it. Maxine rented a small country house, Coombe Cottage, from another friend, Lord Charles Beresford. She still had many commitments in America, and it was where she made her money, but she was free now to go her own way, and she regarded England as ‘home’.
In April 1908 she bought a piece of land on West 39th Street in New York, set up a corporation called Elliott Theatre Company and proceeded to build her own theatre. The capital was three hundred thousand dollars and three thousand hundred-dollar shares were traded. It seems very likely that the hand of J.P. Morgan was in this scheme. Overriding her co-investors who wished it to be called the Maxine Elliott Theatre, she insisted on Maxine Elliott’s Theatre, and of course she got her way, as she inevitably did when dealing with men. To be doubly sure there was no mistake the name was not merely painted, but carved into the marble façade with its Corinthian columns. When the first production opened that December,*** Nellie Melba was in the audience along with a good representation of the Four Hundred. Six months later, when the theatre was well established with new productions booked for seasons ahead Maxine left it in the hands of good managers and went to London to appear in a play there. She only played once more in her own theatre and she was content to let its profits add to her growing fortune. Meanwhile she still had another ambition to achieve, for while her fortune was growing, her social ambitions were yet to take off.
Although she did not lack for invitations, and notably despite the King’s signal approval when he attended her show in 1905 and reportedly told an aide that he thought Miss Elliott the most beautiful woman in the world, Maxine noted that she was never included in the lists of guests who were invited to events attended by the King. Whether this was self-preservation on the part of the King’s posse of mistresses who controlled Edwardian Society, is open to debate. Maxine decided to do something about it, and laid her plans accordingly.
She learned that the King was to spend a few weeks at a spa in Marienbad, and though he would inevitably be surrounded by his usual hostesses Maxine knew that the rules were more relaxed in an overseas venue compared with London drawing rooms. Taking with her as companion and chaperone Mrs Lee Eleanor Graham, another American beauty and society hostess who was kept on the perimeter of the inner circle of the King’s set, Maxine made her way to Paris, where she purchased an entire new wardrobe by Worth, all in white or pastels. Then she announced that she was travelling to Marienbad for her health.
The two women took suites in a hotel directly across a large courtyard from the Weimar Hotel, where the royal party was staying, and from there Maxine was able to take note of the time of the King’s daily perambulations. One morning Maxine, dressed in a filmy gown, was sitting reading on a bench along the route taken by the King. Surrounded by a number of gentlemen, most of whom Maxine knew well, the King passed her, as she knew he must. The effect on the King as she lifted her huge lambent eyes, smiled at the party, bowed her head slightly and then lowered her eyes again to her book, was immediate. He spoke quietly to his gentlemen and as the party continued down the path to the Weimar an equerry returned to speak to Maxine. He told her that the King had recognised her and had invited her to join his party that evening at a dinner being given by Mrs Arthur James. An invitation would be delivered during the afternoon.
Maxine was acquainted with Mrs Arthur James; realised, too, what was likely to happen and suspected that no such invitation would be forthcoming. Nevertheless, she prepared herself carefully for the dinner, and watched from behind the curtains of her suite as carriages arrived at the Weimar and the beautifully dressed guests went in. Eventually Mrs Graham said, ‘Well, Max. That’s that, then.’ But Maxine, who was a great judge of character, simply smiled and told her to wait a little longer.
When the dinner was due to begin Mrs James asked the King to choose a partner to take in to dinner, only to be told that he had already decided to take in Miss Elliott. Within minutes a footman was despatched across the courtyard, offering an explanation that Maxine’s invitation had, inexplicably, fallen behind the desk. She was handed an envelope in which there was a card, bearing the engraved inscription: ‘The Equerry is commanded by the Duke of Lancaster††† to invite Mrs Goodwin to dinner at 7.30 Tuesday, August 18th’. Attached to this was a handwritten note from Mrs James: ‘Will you dine with us tonight... at 7.30?’
Taking her time, Maxine put on her white fur stole and walked slowly across to the Weimar. It was impossible for a hostess to refuse to invite a guest nominated by the King, and Maxine – well aware of how Mrs James had attempted to cut her out – smiled innocently as she accepted her apology. Maxine was now given the sole attention of the King, and all the other guests were made to wait for fifteen minutes while she had a pre-dinner cocktail at the King’s insistence. Again, Maxine made no attempt to hurry, totally at ease while she chatted with His Majesty. Noticeably, she made him laugh. After that evening she was included in the activities of the royal party – drives in the forest, promenades in the parks and the dinners, smart little levees thrown for the King by local aristocracy. In the following year Maxine went to Marienbad again, staying in the same hotel as the royal party, and was named in the press as one of the King’s constant companions and often was his preferred dinner companion’.6 Whether these outings and her intimacy with the King involved sleeping with him will probably never be known, although in biographies Maxine is often referred to as one of the ageing King’s mistresses.
It was at this point, having rented Combe Cottage for a year, that Maxine purchased a country estate from Lord Poltimore. Named Hartsbourne, it was at Bushey in Hertfordshire, less than an hour by carriage from London. As soon as the contracts were signed she brought in architects and ordered a complete redecoration, which included central heating, large built-in wardrobes and a bathroom in every guest room (an unheard-of luxury in England). There was also a beautifully appointed nursery for her sister’s children when they came to stay, and a ne
w modern kitchen with another innovation: refrigeration.
Overlooking the park, two large and luxurious suites were constructed. One was to be Maxine’s own suite on the ground floor; the other, on the first floor, was always known as the King’s Room. From Maxine’s suite, which consisted of a bedroom, boudoir and bathroom and had doors which opened onto the drawing room, a door led to a small hallway and the private staircase to her maid’s room above, and also – conveniently, some might say – to the King’s Room.
Maxine had learned a thing or two while staying at some of England’s grandest houses. As a result, no guest of hers would ever complain of the cold, be expected to trot along a chilly corridor at night to visit the bathroom, or wait for a poor maidservant to struggle upstairs with boiling water for a hip bath. Hartsbourne boasted hot water on tap and goodsized baths. The theme throughout Hartsbourne was carefully directed by Maxine – white and gold, bright and airy. A light-coloured balance of comfortable and luxurious modern furnishings mingled with grand and exquisite Louis Quinze antiques. This style bore the hallmark of Elsie de Wolfe, and although she is not on record as having a hand in the decor at Hartsbourne, de Wolfe was a frequent visitor and one of Maxine’s best friends. While the work was being carried out Maxine returned to New York and made a successful tour of the United States in a play called The Inferior Sex.
When she returned to an almost completed Hartsbourne late in 1909, a note from the King was waiting for her. It suggested he visit her for a quiet weekend with just his valet and an equerry. Maxine was sure-footed enough to be alert to the implications of this; a clandestine relationship was not part of her plan. The King had to accept her as any other woman in society, and visit her openly with some companions or not at all. She despatched a polite note begging the favour of some names she might invite to amuse His Majesty during his stay. No reply came for many weeks and Maxine thought she had burnt her bridges by making her position abundantly clear. But eventually, in April, without any comment about her note, she received a list of suitable names along with a date for early May. Hartsbourne was thrown into an orgy of preparation and plans for a royal visit that would include the equerries, a detective, plus valets and maids, as well as the other guests. In the few days leading up to the royal visit the house was filled with exquisite flower arrangements, all the guest rooms were made ready, menus and wines chosen, and Maxine’s wardrobe freshened up as she fussed over every detail.
The news on 6 May 1910 fell like a guillotine blade; the King was dead of bronchitis. He never occupied the King’s Room at Hartsbourne, but it had been designed for him and the King’s Room it would always remain.
* It was Daly who first introduced the idea of the villain tying someone to railroad tracks to be saved by the hero or heroine. The device became so beloved by silent-picture directors that it eventually became something of a cliché.
† Shooters Hill is now part of Greater London, but in 1898 it was still a rural suburb, if only eight miles from London Bridge.
‡ Nathan Hale was a hero of the American Revolution, who was executed as a spy by the British.
§ Another of Gertrude’s court of followers was the son of Chulalongkorn of Siam (better known as the King in The King and I) but a mixed marriage – even to a prince – was a step too far for Maxine, so she put a stop to it.
¶ Believed to be Jennie Cornwallis-West (formerly Lady Randolph Churchill). Lord Randolph died in 1895 and in 1900 Jennie remarried. Her second husband was George Cornwallis-West, who was the same age as Winston.
# The cream of New York society. So called because Mrs Astor’s ballroom could only accommodate four hundred guests. Anyone not on Mrs Astor’s list was considered an arriviste, and was unlikely to be invited to the places that mattered.
** Charles B. Dillingham.
†† All of which he would eventually achieve.
‡‡ In her later years, Maxine controlled every investment herself, and when her executors examined her records they were amazed at her business acumen. It was said that she understood financial investment and re-investment so well she could have run a broker’s office perfectly competently.
₧₧ The term ‘weekend’ was not then in common use.
₶₶ Maxine was a frequent guest at Highclere Castle (the setting for the fictional Downton Abbey television series).
## Tom, the eldest, shot himself in 1902; Lew, a seaman, drowned in the Indian Ocean in 1905.
*** The Chaperon by Marion Fairfax.
††† The alias used by King Edward when travelling.
3
Hartsbourne
During his lifetime, both as Prince of Wales and as King, Edward VII had totally dominated society, and the habits and mores of the Edwardian era did not end with his death. They continued, almost unchanged, in a sort of golden epilogue.* Those who mattered in British politics, in finance and in the military, still ran the country and life went on as before as they swirled between endless house-parties, the summer season, Cowes and shooting in Scotland in the autumn. And as before, much of the machinery that made the country work operated outside the formality of Westminster.
Perhaps the person in society who was most affected by the old King’s death was his favourite mistress, Alice Keppel, whose immense power in society vanished. The quiet and shy new monarch, George V, would not play the same role in society as his father, and never lent his name to an era, but he was still the arbiter of who was acceptable in royal circles. Immediately, he and Queen Mary, plus his mother, let it be known that it would be more comfortable for everyone if Mrs Keppel was not invited to any of the events they attended. Alice and her complaisant husband George – who was briefly Maxine’s lover – remained friends with Maxine and although the Keppels moved to Italy to save face soon after the old King’s death, they were occasional guests of Maxine’s for the remainder of her life.
With the Keppels out of favour, Maxine might well have found difficulties – after all, they had introduced her. But she seems to have had no difficulties with the transition. Maxine was born to be hostess at Hartsbourne. To her gratification, the house was not merely a fashionable venue for the haute monde to gather but, without a conscious effort by her, it also became a leading political salon in the four years prior to the outbreak of war. Maxine lived life to the full, savouring the fact that it was a life she had made for herself, containing everything she had ever wanted or aspired to – including, unexpectedly, the love of her life.
Having attended many ‘Saturday to Mondays’ at country houses, she knew how often the women guests were cold and bored during the daytime while the men went shooting or hunting. Although some women hunted, the main occupations for those who did not were – all too often – reading and gossip. So Maxine provided a luxurious, restful atmosphere where guests were all entertained in lavish style and in the greatest comfort. The Hartsbourne visitors’ book shows that the first guests were Winston Churchill and his wife Clementine, and that they were regular visitors thereafter. Clementine, whom Winston had married in 1908, was a competitive tennis player and at Hartsbourne she not only had a choice of grass or hard courts but invariably found that good players had been invited to give her a match. Winston’s greatest friend, the brilliant F.E. Smith (later Earl of Birkenhead), was also often invited, together with his intellectual wife Margaret Furneaux. Winston’s formidable aunt Lady Sarah Wilson, who had inadvertently become the first woman war correspondent after being captured during the Boer War, was another favourite visitor, along with Winston’s mother Jennie, and her youthful second husband George Cornwallis-West, who was widely acknowledged as the handsomest man in England. The Cornwallis-Wests struggled to make ends meet, thanks to their extravagant lifestyle, and were always happy to accept such invitations. It was not, however, an entirely one-way arrangement: Jennie’s fabled wit, sparkling manner and knowledge of everyone who mattered, not to mention her concert-standard piano playing, made her a distinct asset at any gathering.
Th
e Churchill family were part of a social group who represented soft power in Edwardian England, and which included politicians from all parties as well as powerful landowners. All came to Hartsbourne to mingle with their friends. Among the regular visitors were the Duke of Rutland, with his artist wife and three daughters, including the lovely Lady Diana Manners,† who would be a lifelong friend to Maxine, and the Earl of Drogheda and his wife Kathleen who was, like Winston, interested in the new science of aviation, and who was to become Maxine’s best woman friend. Lord Rosebery also came often: Maxine’s refusal of his proposal had made no difference to their friendship and she was glad to be able to offer him hospitality. Other names in the Hartsbourne visitors’ book include Lord Curzon, the former and, arguably greatest, Viceroy of India, who had been recently widowed. He courted Maxine and even proposed to her; during a subsequent visit to New York the papers somehow heard about this and trumpeted that Maxine was about to become Lady Curzon. When an editor wired her and asked her directly, ‘Are you going to marry Lord Curzon?’ she responded robustly: ‘I would not marry God.’‡
Anyone who was anyone went gladly to Hartsbourne. Maxine was nicknamed the Queen of Harts and her invitations were rarely declined. When she was not filling Hartsbourne with guests she was a guest herself, driven around the country to great houses by her chauffeur, Hoath, in her white De Dion-Bouton (known as the White Incomparable).
She worried when in 1911 Nat Goodwin, from whom she had been divorced two years earlier, published his memoirs. Naturally he was not especially flattering of Maxine, though he praised her physical beauty and acting ability. He was bitter about the way she had treated him and hinted pointedly about her relationships with J.P. Morgan and other men. However, the book was poorly written; his attempts at humour signally failed, and it was soon out of print. There was no aftermath for Maxine, other than a few splashy newspaper articles in America that were not repeated in England – and to Maxine England was what mattered. Her visits to the USA were now only to oversee business matters concerning her theatre and her investments, which had made her a rich woman.
The Riviera Set Page 4
