Churchill's Grandmama
Page 17
Her second commitment was to hospitals and orphanages caring for those with the greatest needs: the insane, blind, deaf and dumb, incurables, the dying, crippled, the poor and the children. A visit to St Vincent’s orphanage for poor girls in Dublin was characteristic of her. The children laid out a large exhibition of their work in artificial flower-making. Frances was impressed and delighted with this and pleased the children by purchasing a large number of their specimens, an example followed by the other ladies in the party. The Medical Officer attending a visit by the Duchess to St Clare’s orphanage, also in Dublin, expressed his admiration for ‘Her Grace’s large-hearted benevolence in patronising the many works of charity in our city’.
The Duchess’s priorities were clear. On 18 February 1878, when the Duke elected to visit the establishment of a Mr J.W. Edmundson, ‘with regard to his inventions in electric lights’, Frances visited High Park Reformatory in Drumcondra. Her concern for the needy and the impartial division of her time between institutions run by both Catholic and Protestant communities won her wide acclaim. Public awareness of her work was aptly summed up:
There is scarcely an institution of public utility, scarcely a charity deserving patronage that she has not visited or encouraged. Religious differences, heretofore so adverse to Irish prosperity, are no longer thought of. The poor and suffering, be they Catholic, Protestant or Dissenter, be their creed what it may, are objects alike of her Grace’s solicitude. In distant Mayo or lonely Donegal, the little village school or the little local hospital feels the beneficial influence of the Duchess’s genial encouragement.
Respect and affection arose from the Irish people’s awareness that these commitments were those Frances chose to make in her own time, prompted by a genuine concern for hardship and a wish to help and improve where she could.
Frances also recognised that the Irish manufacturing industry had been in recession for some time, and her response was a practical one. She took every opportunity to promote Irish materials, particularly Irish poplin and silk, to the extent that the chairman and secretary of the Dublin Weavers’ Association thanked her publicly:
We appreciate the voluntary action of Your Grace in bestowing your kind attention and favour upon our poplins as a sincere desire to promote the welfare and domestic happiness of the artisans of this country.
A cartoon drawing of the time shows symbolically how her support for the poplin industry was noted and appreciated. A very maternal, caring image of Frances, wearing a dress labelled ‘Irish Poplin’, comforts a poplin weaver kneeling in despair in front of his empty loom. To the side are figures of women labelled to represent poplin weaving in other countries, such as France and Germany, in retreat in the face of Frances’s concern. The caption reads:
Her Grace of Marlborough: ‘Do not give up, my friend. I will induce, or shame, every Irish lady into having at least one dress of your beautiful national fabric. Believe me, your countrywomen are not heartless but only thoughtless.’
Frances’ innate thoughtfulness was part of her strength in Ireland as it was in her life as a whole. Her sincerity, another strong instinct, was to make a difference to ordinary people.
Part of Frances’ charm and success with the people was her lack of pretence and her honest modesty. In a letter of reply she pointed out that the thanks were not due to her but to the ladies of Ireland. She was referring to one of her early initiatives: within weeks of her arrival in Dublin she had requested that all ladies attending Court functions should wear dresses made from or incorporating Irish materials. If there is one thing that can endear a person to the Irish, it is sharing with them their deep love of horses and racing. It was one of Frances’ pleasures, particularly at the popular Punchestown. She also had an instinct for a gesture which could strike a chord. With a stroke of genius, when she attended the Punchestown races soon after receiving the thanks of the Dublin weavers, she wore a dress ‘of sky terry Irish poplin … richly trimmed with Irish guipure lace’.
Her wedding present to Queen Victoria’s daughter, the Duchess of Connaught, was a ‘parasol of exquisite Irish point lace’; it had been worked by children of a school at Youghal. The ladies of the Court had responded cheerfully to her request that they wore Irish poplin, silk, lace and ornamental work at all Court functions. The response was typical of the warm atmosphere Frances created at the social functions of the Court. The Freeman’s Journal acknowledged that ‘the gaiety of which the Vice-Regal Court is the centre radiates through various circles of Dublin society’. Frances was having as much influence on the Irish national scene as she had hitherto been able to exercise only in her family and neighbourhood.
A large family to care for, the household affairs of Blenheim Palace to supervise, and the support needed in her husband’s political career meant Frances was no stranger to hard work. Nevertheless, now in her later fifties, she must have found the pressure of events during the official Court Season at Dublin Castle a tax on her stamina. Their kindness and consideration for others meant she and John Winston actually made things more difficult for themselves. The Season had normally been over at the end of February. In 1878, however, she and her husband moved it forward three weeks, so that members of Irish society who had responsibilities in the London Season, or who simply wished to participate, could now take part in the Irish Season beforehand. This significantly increased the numbers in Dublin with which she and the Duke had to contend. Another of Frances’ kindnesses, warmly welcomed, was to ensure the dates of official events were published well in advance so that people could plan other engagements around them.
The Season consisted of 15 formal events spread over 35 days, based around the most important events of two Levees and two Drawing-rooms. In 1878 the details of the Court Season were:
8 January
Tuesday
1st Levee
9
Wednesday
1st Drawing-room
10
Thursday
Dinner and Dance
11
Friday
Dinner and Dance
16
Wednesday
Official dinner
23
Wednesday
State Ball (Irish Manufacture to be worn)
26
Saturday
Command Night at Theatre Royal
29
Tuesday
2nd Levee
30
Wednesday
2nd Drawing-room
31
Thursday
Dinner and Dance
1 February
Friday
Official Dinner
6
Wednesday
Dinner and Dance
20
Wednesday
Dinner and Dance
26
Tuesday
Dinner and Dance
28
Thursday
State Ball
These were occasions when everyone in Irish society of rank, importance or achievement (and those who aspired to be part), were recognised by the Court. They were highly formal gatherings subject to rigid protocol on matters such as invitation, dress, precedence, conduct and demeanour, seating, location and so on. Frances and John Winston, as members of the aristocracy, would have endorsed the need for such functions as part of the social structure surrounding the monarchy. The events themselves would certainly have tired them, permanently on show on these long-drawn-out social occasions. The World magazine, in March 1878, describes a ‘Drawing-room’ in the Throne Room of Dublin Castle where the Duke, as the Viceroy, stood at the centre, the Duchess at his side and the Household in a rather forbidding semi-circle around them. It described the ‘rites’ of Presentation, implying with that word that this was something already rather old-fashioned:
The fair debutante comes to the door, her train is let down and she advances alone to His Grace, while her card is passed rapidly up a file of aides … Then, as she bends before the Vice
roy, he takes her ungloved hand, draws her towards him and gracefully kisses her on the right cheek. She then, after another curtsy to both their Graces, retires backwards, joins her chaperon who has preceded her and sweeps on to St. Patrick’s Hall.
In the two Drawing-rooms of that season there were some 140 girls to be presented, each with a sponsor. Frances had to stand throughout with nothing to do but smile at each girl as she passed. Afterwards she would have to circulate among some several hundred guests gathered outside the Throne Room. Drawing-rooms began at nine o’clock in the evening, so tiredness compounded the tedium. Her appearance would be scrutinised by every other lady, huge importance being attached to dress. Newspaper reports on the two Drawing-rooms of that season devoted no fewer than 14 columns to describing in detail the dresses of the highest-ranking ladies.
Frances’ ideal was always to be useful: here she was merely decorative, although she was wise enough not to fall short of what was expected and dutifully played her part. Just how she was expected to present herself is worth describing in full, because the extravagance is at odds with her natural inclination. At the first Drawing-room she wore:
a cream-coloured train of Irish poplin (expressly manufactured for Her Grace), magnificently brocaded in cream floss with sprays of stephanotis and lily of the valley, bouquets of roses raised in crimson silk and gold lined with cream satin, trimmed with cordons of gold cord and edged with double plaiting of cream satin and gold bullion fringe; corsage, fronce berthe of crimson satin and face of Irish point lace, petticoat of the richest satin cuit, trimmed biases and revere of satin; fronce tablier trimmed with two volants of Irish point lace (made by special order of Her Grace at the Convent schools at Youghal); agraffed with crimson-shaded roses and foliage. Headdress – tuft of shaded coral roses and foliage; Court plume and Youghal lace lappets; tiara of diamonds.
The other ladies were described in similar detail, providing welcome publicity to national fabrics and products and thus benefiting a whole range of people who had an interest in Irish crafts and artisanship.
None of this would have given pleasure to Frances, apart from the Irish poplin and Irish point lace ‘made in a school in Youghal’, which reflected her true interests . Nevertheless, the dress she wore for the second Drawing-room three weeks later was entirely different and equally magnificent. The multitude of guests among whom she would have to circulate, never allowing her poise to slip, would be taxing in itself. Each Drawing-room had over 700 guests; formal Dinners and Dances were usually for 300 at a time; the State Ball was for 600, and the St Patrick’s Ball, with which the season culminated, was for over a thousand. Frances had some responsibility in making up the guest lists.
There were other commitments during the same period: the Royal Hospital Ball; an official visit to the Bishop at Tuam; an official welcome to the Crown Prince of Austria; attendance at Divine Service each Sunday and, of course, Frances’ visits to schools and hospitals. During the official Season the Viceroy and his family had to move into Dublin Castle, so Frances lost the use of her own pleasant and more comfortable and convenient Vice-Regal Lodge. Now the official home of the President of Ireland, this is a pleasant and dignified house idyllically set in the 1,800 acre Phoenix Park. After a lifetime spent in gracious houses, Frances would have had no difficulty in meeting the style, either here or at the Castle.
Unsurprisingly, one of the main supports Frances received during the Irish years was from her family. Her daughters had been central to her hospitality at Blenheim, and now they were regular visitors at Vice-Regal Lodge. Cornelia and her husband Ivor, Baron Wimborne, took a house in Ireland and were regularly with Frances, as were Rosamund, married in 1877 to William Fellowes, 2nd Baron de Ramsey, Fanny and Annie and their husbands. Georgiana, her unmarried daughter, lived with her, as did Sarah, the youngest daughter and not yet a teenager. The wider family too – her sister-in-law, the Dowager Marchioness of Londonderry, her dead sister’s husband, usefully a Catholic peer, the Earl of Portarlington, and her brother-in-law and his wife, Lord and Lady Alfred Churchill – gave their support. The loyalty she had been at pains to forge all her life stood her in good stead now. Support in state duties also came from Bertha, the Marchioness of Blandford, although there was never any appearance from the Marquess himself, who had caused the exile to Ireland in the first place.
For Jennie and Randolph the move from London to Dublin meant simply replacing the enjoyment of English with Irish fashionable social life. Predictably Jennie became a centre of attraction. A well-known appreciation of her at the time brings out what she was best at: the display of vitality and an almost animal-like physical attraction in a social situation. At a Vice-Regal reception Lord d’Abernon observed her ‘dark, lithe figure … radiant, translucent, intense’. It is ironic that Jennie excelled at this rather superficial, glittering level of society whereas Frances, who had qualities greater and deeper by far, found it only a duty and a responsibility.
Despite the crisis he had caused, and the consequences for John Winston and Frances, Randolph seemed unrepentant and unchanged. Yet there was some room for optimism. He and Jennie were spending time enjoying the pleasures of Ireland, particularly on the hunting field, and this, and his role accompanying his father as secretary to all parts of the country, gave Randolph an awareness of the appalling conditions under which the rural population was struggling. Also, a vital new force was emerging in the Home Rule movement, which had been moribund for years, and Randolph’s sympathy for this new intellectual movement was alarming his father.
Within months of the arrival in Ireland Randolph was denouncing his party, who were in government, for the inadequacy of their policy in Ireland and drawing attention to years of inadequate British government of the country. Once again, in his self-willed way, he caused anxiety and distress to his mother and father. His trouble-making became so severe that the Chief Secretary of Ireland asked the Duke for an explanation of his son’s behaviour. John Winston dissociated himself completely from Randolph’s actions and actually suggested he be given an official rebuke. But Randolph showed no sign of remorse. By early 1878 he was openly attacking Conservative policy on major issues, on one occasion speaking in support of the Opposition and causing an important Bill on local government to fail. The move to Ireland had not yet alleviated his parents’ anxieties.
John Winston was a popular and successful Viceroy of Ireland, partly thanks to his background but mainly because of the person he was. His conduct as the Queen’s representative, and the public reaction he provoked, reveals how hopelessly wide of the mark was the dismissal of him in modern times. As a landowner and countryman and former President of the Royal Agricultural Society, he had a clear understanding of and familiarity with agriculture, the basis of the Irish economy. His first important public appearance, within three weeks of his arrival, was at the Lord Mayor’s banquet: his background and Parliamentary experience enabled him to speak at length and with clarity and conviction on the Irish agricultural economy, which gained him immediate respect. He raised and discussed the threat to the Irish cattle exporting industry of the arrival of cheap American beef. He skilfully outlined and urged a move from live cattle to carcass meat for export.
The integrity and honesty which had been his distinguishing qualities all his life now equipped him well. He often had the task of proposing and defending government policy, whether he believed in it or not. At the Lord Mayor’s banquet at the beginning of his second year, his speech brought him praise from the opposition press. He had claimed ‘Prosperity to Ireland’ in times clearly not prosperous. The Freeman’s Journal praised ‘the frankness, bona fides and moderation of a man who … not only means well, but does well and tries to face the truth even when it is unpalatable … If the facts were too strong for him … the Duke was not more skilful but more candid.’
The reporter particularly welcomed the part of the Duke’s speech in which ‘he acknowledges the kindly feeling won for him and the Duchess … by their h
onest anxiety to know and be of service to the country’. The writer described Frances’ and her husband’s aim as being ‘to know and be of service’.
John Winston was unflagging in his commitment to official duties. He too had the strain and pressure of the official Seasons; additionally, he was meticulous in giving time and support to all those institutions which would look to the Queen’s representative to endorse their activities. His official diaries show an unfailing round of attendance at organisations such as the Royal Irish Academy, the National Gallery of Ireland, the National Festival, the Royal Hibernian Academy, the Royal Institute of Architects of Ireland, the Irish School of Art, the Irish Drawing Society and many others.
Not all of these would have aroused his interest but he devoted endless evenings to them as a responsibility and a duty. He was unfailingly courteous and showed, too, an unexpected sense of humour. Speaking at Trinity College Historical Society, he was described as ‘animated and humorous … warmly received by the students’. One newspaper commented on his manner as rather quiet but ‘quick at a rejoinder … prompt at repartee’. These were valuable qualities, a sense of humour being dear to the Irish heart, as was his way of spending his leisure. He was a skilful and enthusiastic fisherman, loving particularly the Blackwater, the most famous of Irish fishing rivers. He shared Frances’ enjoyment of racing, particularly at Punchestown.
He was perceptive and intelligent in ensuring his and Frances’ presence across the whole community and throughout the whole of Ireland. They toured the country from Belfast to Cork, Stranraer to Killarney, Mallow to Mayo, Sligo to Limerick, Drogheda to Westport; Youghal, Clare, Tuam, Meath – all were visited. What was especially noted and appreciated was that they did their best to understand every aspect of Irish social and political life, inspecting the charities and institutions of the island, ‘not perfunctorily but with interest and sympathy’. The Duke and Duchess established themselves unequivocally in the hearts of the Irish people, which was most fortunate as both of them, and Frances in particular, were about to be confronted with the possibility of a national disaster.