Straight on Till Morning (15 page)

It is not difficult to imagine the concern and distress that Mansfield's decision caused the queen. A divorce case involving the prince would have caused an almighty scandal. Further, the implication was that after the divorce, Beryl would be free to marry Prince Henry – indeed in such a situation he would have been almost obliged to consider marriage to her. The prince was third in line of succession to the throne, and such a possibility must have lurked heavily behind all the discussions. Divorce still carried the stigma of social disgrace in England and it was inconceivable that the action should be allowed to continue. And of course it did not.

The conjectures about the actual amount settled on Beryl by the palace, so that she would no longer represent a financial burden to Mansfield, have been many and various. That such a settlement was made has never been in doubt. Various pieces of documentary evidence were produced by interviewees during research for this book, which showed that Beryl received an annuity from 1929 until her death, and this annuity is traceable to a single source.
⁶⁶

Informants close to palace circles had actually discussed the matter with members of the royal family, and Cockie Hoogterp confirmed that her brother told her of the matter.
⁶⁷
In the main, though, informants requested anonymity, and in one case, though the informant did not specifically ask for anonymity, it would be irresponsible to divulge the name.
⁶⁸
A woman friend who had looked after Beryl's financial affairs during her illness some years ago told me of her ‘surprise that the monthly amount was so small, given the speculation I had heard over the years…everyone thinks she got a fortune out of it.'
⁶⁹
Cockie Hoogterp's brother Ulick, who as Keeper of the Privy Purse must have been involved in the transaction itself, told her that Queen Mary had insisted that a sum of £15,000 be set aside for the matter. The Markham family were sure that £10,000 was the sum involved. Many other informants stated that they knew the full story – the amounts varying in each case from £10,000 upwards, and one well-placed informant suggested it was nearer £30,000.

It is clear that gossip and speculation over the years are responsible for the fog of misinformation that surrounds Beryl's story. Many thought that Beryl was on the Civil List
⁷⁰
but this is not so. Others thought she had been bought off with a substantial capital sum and annual payment, on condition that she never returned to live in England. Again, incorrect. After Beryl's death in 1986, through the kindness of Beryl's executor, I was privileged to have sight of the contract.

Cockie Hoogterp's recollection of events was in fact very nearly accurate. The capital sum involved was £15,000 – a generous sum in those days – but it was Prince Henry himself, not his mother, who provided the money. The trust was administered by a firm of solicitors but although the prince is not named in the contract (which is signed by Beryl and a solicitor), a handwritten note dated 1939 on the back of the document makes it clear that it was Prince Henry who had provided the necessary funds.

The capital sum was used to create a trust based on bonds with a fixed-rate return, providing an annuity which was paid into Beryl's account each year from December 1929 until her death in 1986. The annual figure that Beryl actually received appears modest by today's standards, though it would have been quite sufficient to maintain a certain style in 1929, particularly in Kenya, where doubtless those most nearly concerned with the prince's reputation heartily wished she would return with utmost speed. In 1982, during a period of severe financial hardship, the annual amount was increased temporarily. The informant who thought the initial capital sum was £30,000, an old and much-loved Kenya settler, stated: ‘It was increased from £2000 a year…and you don't starve on £2000 a year, do you?' But in fact it was something less than half that sum (about £750) and inflation had reduced its value to a level which, with the greatest care, might provide for the running costs of a modest car.

The arrangement did not cease on any subsequent marriage entered into by Beryl, and it was for the entire period of her life. No formal conditions of any kind were imposed, though it is possible that some verbal promises were made. At any rate it meant that Mansfield was absolved from maintaining Beryl ever again.

When shortly afterwards, the Prince of Wales arrived in Kenya for a second royal safari he told Cockie von Blixen (formerly Birkbeck) that he was delighted by the affair between his brother and Beryl. Until then, Prince Henry had been held up by the king and queen as a shining example, and he himself was seen as the black sheep, so far as his relationships with the opposite sex were concerned.
⁷¹

Beryl herself, when I interviewed her in 1986, did not wish to discuss this matter, although she was completely frank about other aspects of her life story. She said she did not remember anything at all about the arrangement, only that she did receive money from ‘some nice person in England'. However she was happy to talk about Prince Henry. ‘He was such fun. I think he liked me because I was so different to all the others' – an understatement of classic proportions! When Beryl's remarks were repeated to a friend in England who knew the couple in 1929, the friend retorted, ‘God bless her! Is that really what she said? No wonder he liked her if she thought he was fun. She was probably the only person who did…He was a frightful bore.'
⁷²
But actually Beryl was not the only person who thought so. Beryl's executor recalled being told by a fellow officer of the prince that as a young man ‘Prince Henry was full of charm and fun. He was very popular with the ladies, not because of who he was, but because of what he was.' He certainly cut a popular figure among the hunting fraternity at Melton where his dashing riding and open friendliness is remembered to this day.
⁷³

Presumably some pressure was brought to bear. Both parties would have no doubt been advised that their relationship, if it were allowed to continue at all, must become more discreet. In February 1930 Beryl returned sadly to Kenya – not, apparently, at her own wish. ‘Beryl came out here on Friday,' Tania Blixen wrote on 28 February, ‘…she had arrived in Nairobi the day before and was very unhappy and depressed. I can hardly believe that everything is as she describes…Anyhow she is stranded out here now, parted from her child and with hardly any money, in a kind of exile, and feeling very lonely and miserable, even though she is so young and light-hearted that I am sure, sooner or later, she will find something to live for. I have invited her to stay here during the races, she is obliged to come down here as she has several horses running, and she says people glare at her and are so unpleasant in Nairobi that it is frightful for her to be there. In spite of all her experience she is still the greatest baby I have known, but there is more in her than in most of the people who pretend to be so shocked at her now.'
⁷⁴

From this letter it is clear that Beryl's version of the events of 1929 absolved her of any responsibility for the divorce. Patently this is a biased view. Mansfield had been suspicious for some time of her relationship with the Prince and after the royal safari he could have been in no doubt that his worst suspicions were confirmed. It is hardly surprising that he had subsequent doubts about the paternity of his son. Did Beryl really not know that in behaving in such an irresponsible manner she was putting her second marriage in danger? Surely she must have realized that Mansfield could not tolerate such a situation. It seems, from Tania's comments, almost as if she was surprised at his reaction, and thought he had behaved irrationally.

For two months Beryl worked at the training establishment which was gradually being taken over entirely by her father, and moped around Kenya. To Tania's surprise she received a telegram on 30 April asking her to meet Beryl for lunch at Muthaiga. ‘When we met I heard to my astonishment that she was on her way back to Europe, had to leave the same day for Mombasa to catch the Italian boat on the 1st. Considering she only came out on the 1st of March [sic] this seemed an extraordinary plan, but unfortunately a stupid man came up and asked to join us for lunch so I couldn't find out what made her take this step. Perhaps it is the Duke of Gloucester who cannot do without her any longer, and in itself I suppose it is a better idea for her to be at home in England than out here. If he is going to support her for a lifetime, the way her miserable husband has arranged things, then they can at least enjoy each other a little.' One shares with Tania annoyance at ‘the stupid man' who has robbed us for ever of the chance of discovering what Beryl obviously wished to confide.

During the summer the friendship between Beryl and Prince Henry flowered again, but despite the disquiet that had been caused, he was never a major figure in her emotional life. Beryl liked Prince Henry for himself, and probably also enjoyed the privileges that went with the position of a royal mistress; and when the affair finally ended she was sad and rather lonely, but not heartbroken. In fact, so far, she had never enjoyed a relationship with a man who ‘really mattered' to her. Even her marriages to Jock and Mansfield never achieved the importance that she later gave to much shorter-lived relationships, because neither man gained her whole-hearted respect. In some indefinable way they failed to measure up to her personal view of the ideal man, which was her father.

Late in 1930 Beryl returned to Kenya. Friends claim that she subsequently told them she had been advised that she would forfeit her annuity if she continued to live in England, though she would be allowed reasonable visits to see her son. This may or may not be true. It seems unlikely, but I have found no evidence either way.

Beryl was now twenty-eight years old. Sophisticated and elegant, she had other less definable qualities including her appealing smile: halfway between a brave boyish grin and the shy half-smile of a little girl anxious to please. Throughout her life, this apparent vulnerability awakened protective instincts in those around her.
⁷⁵
She was at the height of her magnetic charm and the man who was attracted to its full force was Denys Finch Hatton.

1930–1931

For some years, whilst she had been friends with the now immortalized couple Tania Blixen and Denys Finch Hatton,
¹
Beryl had hero-worshipped Denys.
²
She was a constant visitor to Tania's house, drawn to the couple's intelligent, mercurial fantasy world and their sensual enjoyment of music and literature. Perhaps because Beryl had been little more than a child when they first knew her, Tania never saw her as a threat to her relationship with Denys. It is clear from the tone of Tania's letters that until 1930, at least, she and Beryl were friends, indeed they had considerable affection for each other.

Ingrid Lindstrom, possibly Tania's closest friend in Kenya, has been quoted as saying that ‘Tania did not really like women.'
³
During research for this book, the same thing was repeated about Beryl. Yet despite these reports it seems that Tania and Beryl were able to find a level of friendship and there is almost a maternal perception in Tania's remarks about her.

During interviews in the spring of 1981 Beryl remembered only that Tania ‘…was very difficult to get to know. She kept herself very private. But she had lovely things…I enjoyed going there, but not at the end.' Of Denys she said, ‘He was a wonderful man, quite brilliant. Intelligent and very well educated. He was a great hunter and a great, a tremendous personality.'
⁴
Here
was
a man who measured up.

Accusations have been levelled that Beryl was responsible for breaking up Tania's now much publicized love affair with Denys. This is highly unlikely. It is now well known that things between the couple had started to go wrong as far back as 1928 as a result of Tania's jealousy and possessiveness, and Denys's desire to remain free. The situation had come to a head when Tania discovered that her former husband Bror and his second wife Cockie had accompanied the royal safari which Denys had organized. There were fierce arguments which Tania described briefly in her letters home, where she justified her stance saying that it was ‘against the law of nature' for Denys to be friendly with Bror Blixen in the circumstances.
⁵
Obviously much was said which was not reported, for according to Tania's biographer, Judith Thurman, it was from this moment that the relationship between the couple began to cool.

Beryl's return from England occurred when Denys and Tania's love affair was to all intents and purposes at an end. Denys had moved into a friend's house in Nairobi and Beryl rented a small bungalow at Muthaiga which had once been shared as a pied-à-terre by Denys and Lord Delamere and was only a short walk from Muthaiga Club.
⁶

Denys has been described as having a catalytic effect on the lives of those who came into contact with him. In his relationship with Beryl however, he played a pivotal role for he shaped the child-woman, and encouraged her to educate herself. Nevertheless their relationship was not limited to that of teacher and pupil, any more than his relationship with Tania had been when he taught her mathematics and Greek. When Beryl arrived back in Nairobi – sent home it would seem, from what she told friends, almost like a naughty schoolgirl – she was ripe for a love affair with the man she had admired for so long. ‘She wasn't just in love with Denys, she was mad with love for him…' a friend stated. Her relationship with Prince Henry had been ‘a playful one' – a romp that both had enjoyed. But her feeling for Denys was far removed from her light and skittish affection for Prince Henry. For the first time she felt the passionate stirrings of the greatest emotion. The suffocating surges of blood; the heart literally missing beats; and the heady surge of joy at knowing her feelings were returned, at least in some measure, by the adored Denys.

Tania (Karen) Dinesen had arrived in East Africa in January 1914 at the age of twenty-eight to marry her cousin, Baron Bror von Blixen-Finecke. She had previously been deeply in love with Bror's twin brother Hans but her feelings were not reciprocated and in order to escape the unhappiness of constantly seeing Hans she spent two years travelling around Europe. In 1913 after her return to Denmark, and in the teeth of family disapproval, her engagement to Bror was announced. The family liked Bror; indeed with his open friendliness he was a man it would be difficult to dislike. He was handsome and rugged, with fair hair, strong features and fierce blue eyes, but ‘He looked down benevolently and lasciviously upon womankind and had been raised to believe that the entire world existed, as did the fish in his streams and the game in his woods, for his pleasure.'
⁷

The couple decided to emigrate to East Africa after a family syndicate was formed to finance a farm there, based on the enthusiastic reports of Tania's and Bror's mutual uncle Mogens. ‘A well-run farm in East Africa just now ought to make its owner a millionaire,' he had told them. In his memoir
African Hunter
, Bror explains that his only anxiety was ‘…how I should be able to put all the money in the bank. The gold mine was ours, all we had to do was extract the rich ore.'
⁸
Originally a 700-acre dairy farm was purchased by correspondence in British East Africa, but Bror went on ahead to reconnoitre and quickly decided that the best prospects lay elsewhere. ‘Gold could not be made out of stockbreeding,' he concluded shortly after he arrived in Nairobi. Whose tin-roofed huddle he described as ‘more like an empty old anchovy tin than anything else. The houses were a collection of scattered, rather shabby tin boxes, among which goats, fowls, and all kinds of other domestic animals led a pleasant rustic life…but what did it matter? I had no objection. I was after gold, not smart hotels.'

Disposing of the 700 acres, he bought 4500 acres near Nairobi, and about the same acreage near Eldoret, on which he planned to grow coffee. ‘Gold meant coffee. Coffee growing was the only thing which had any future; the world was crying out for coffee from Kenya.' Recognizing the amount of labour required to turn the land into a coffee plantation, he set about hiring a workforce of Africans so that by the time Tania arrived at the farm a thousand workers were lined up to meet the memsahib.

Bror and Tania were married at Mombasa immediately after her arrival. Then the pair travelled to Nairobi in the highlands by a special train which had been laid on for Prince Wilhelm of Sweden who, by a happy coincidence, was visiting the country, and who had been able to support Bror as his best man at the wedding.

Within a year Tania found she had contracted the venereal disease syphilis.
⁹
Substantiated reports of Bror's infidelities were numerous, although it must be said here that neither of Bror's subsequent wives believed he had ever suffered from the affliction. ‘And I should know if anyone does,' said Cockie, the second Baroness Blixen. Nor, despite his renowned promiscuity, were there reports of any other woman making the same charge,
¹⁰
and friends of many years' standing state that Bror never displayed any outward signs of succumbing to the complaint.

The farm did not prosper. Bror was often absent, initially due to his service in the war against German East Africa and later on his game-hunting exploits. The social benefits enjoyed by the holder of the title Baroness meant a great deal to Tania, but she was nevertheless a thoroughly unhappy and disillusioned woman by 1918 when she first met Denys Finch Hatton at the Muthaiga Club.

In 1920 the finances of the coffee farm were chaotic, and the Blixens' marriage was in dire trouble. The original mistrust of Tania's family for Bror ‘…now turned into frank and righteous abomination…on financial as well as moral grounds'.
¹¹
While Tania was visiting them in Denmark, Bror, in an attempt to raise money for the farm, pawned her silver, ‘had her furniture attached by creditors and was ready to sign over the house and park to anyone who would negotiate a loan for them'.
¹²
A year later Bror was summarily dismissed as manager and Tania was appointed to run the farm in his stead. The Dinesen financial syndicate were insistent that Bror was to have no further involvement with the farm, and he was forbidden even to set foot there. Later they were divorced, much against Tania's will, but Bror had by then fallen in love with Cockie. Tania never forgave Cockie for taking Bror, but this seems oddly dog-in-the-mangerish considering Tania's own situation. Long before Bror officially moved out of the farm, Denys and Tania were lovers and Bror customarily introduced Denys as ‘my wife's lover, and my best friend'.

Having invested and lost his entire wealth in the virtually failed venture Bror was penniless. However it was not in his nature to whine about his misfortune. He simply carried on as before, sometimes staying with friends, sometimes camping out in the bush; scratching a living where he could. He was a man who always enjoyed life to the hilt, a man's man, a lovable, impossible, improvident rascal. Bunny Allen described him as ‘far too rough for her…[Tania] was a very sweet girl, like a lovely-looking piece of beautiful china. He was never gentle with her, he was rough and ready and always ready to have a party with the boys. He drank a great deal and he wasn't fussy who he went to bed with…He was nice enough in every way, but the difference between him and Denys Finch Hatton was the difference between chalk and cheese.'
¹³

Bror's godson Eric Rundgren remembers him as a tall man with a kind, aristocratic face and a wonderful capacity for enjoying himself. ‘He was always in a good humour, enthusiastic and prepared to attempt any scheme. His personality captivated people. My father used to say that he could talk anybody into anything.' He recalled the first time he had met Bror in the Norfolk Hotel surrounded by a dozen admiring fans – mostly women – and thinking, ‘This is the only life for me, such glamour, such opportunity and such fun.' This impression was never displaced even when later Bror came to the Rundgren house to borrow money and Eric's father told him, ‘There goes a man who in twenty-odd years must have made £200,000 out of hunting and now literally hasn't a cent.'
¹⁴

Tania meanwhile had fallen deeply in love with Denys. She was intelligent, sensitive, imaginative. Denys was polished, gentle, intellectual and a man of such blinding charm that fifty years after his death that elusive quality is instantly recalled by his friends as his greatest asset. Most people found extreme difficulty in analysing his magnetism. A friend describes him as a leader, quick-thinking and decisive, but paradoxically he moved and acted with unstudied nonchalance, which may have been taken for indolence were he not well known as an achiever. Despite his scholarly appearance there was ‘a suggestion of an adventurous wanderer, of a man who knew every hidden creek and broad reach of the upper Nile, and who had watched a hundred desert suns splash with gilt the white-walled cities of Somaliland'.
¹⁵
Many people agreed: ‘He was exactly like one of the old Elizabethan courtiers – courtly on the surface but underneath he was basically a man who would undertake any venture successfully.' In short he was a man who wished to enjoy every experience life had to offer, be it physical, intellectual, aesthetic or sensual. Finch Hatton could never be described as handsome – he had too thin a face, a crooked smile and was almost totally bald – but he was immensely fit and so physically powerful that he once lifted a car out of a ditch unaided.
¹⁶

In common with his friend Berkeley Cole, Denys was deeply attracted to the life that Tania created in her house at Ngong, where she had assembled a comfortable and aesthetically pleasing collection of furniture, paintings, china and crystal. It was an oasis of cool, quiet civilization, where Denys could indulge his intellectual propensities and be assured of admiring and indulgent company. It was an ideal resting place for him between his adventures and unexplained business affairs and for as long as he could feel untrammelled by the relationship, he loved Tania. He moved his belongings into her house and for six years they were idyllically happy.

Together the couple achieved a separateness from their companions and surroundings, so that even in company they seemed locked in their own shining world. Their love was tender, poetic and intense, on a plane that even their close friends found difficult to reach or to identify. They both adored the mysticism of Africa, the velvety soft nights under the vast canopy of stars, the hot dry days when they explored together the bush country, their senses heightened by passion. Tania has written in beautiful prose of their times together, without ever acknowledging the full force of her idolatrous love for Denys.