Up the great staircase trooped the 2,500 guests, resplendent in tiaras and jewels or
white tie and tails, to be greeted by their hostess, the Marchioness
of Londonderry, glamorous in a clinging black satin Paris dress.
Either side of her impressive cleavage gleamed great swathes of diamonds.
Round her neck hung a heavy row of pearls that fell below her waist.
On her head was the largest of the Londonderry tiaras, so big it was
known in the family as ‘the fender'.
Pale rays illuminate the top-lit gallery of Londonderry house
Beside her stood her handsome husband Charles, the seventh Marquess of Londonderry, and the
Prime Minister, Lloyd George. That November
night in 1919 was Edith Londonderry's first Eve of Parliament reception, a tradition that continued for 20-odd years.
The Marchioness of Londonderry wears ‘the fender' to greet guests, 1934
Londonderry House, like many of London's great houses, was built for
entertaining. In the 18th and 19th centuries, most aristocrats and others who lived on their estates
for much of the year had a town house to which they migrated for ‘the
Season' - those summer months filled with
balls and parties, when débutantes were presented at court and launched into
‘society' in the hope of making a splendid marriage.
The ballroom, Devonshire House
These houses were as magnificent as their owners could manage.
Built and decorated by the most talented of the age,
they were sumptuously furnished - walls were hung with silk, damask and wonderful paintings - and often embellished with marble statuary.
The mustard-yellow drawing rooms of Londonderry House were filled
with blue Sèvres vases and gold plate; in the entrance hall stood a Canova statue
of Theseus and the Minotaur (now in the Victoria and Albert
Museum). Suites of rooms, with a ballroom at one end, could be flung open for entertaining.
Georgiana Cavendish (1757-1806), a lover of gambling - and threesomes
Today most of these palatial mansions have been pulled down or turned into blocks of flats.
With their disappearance went their furnishings, objets and paintings.
But what their wonderful rooms looked like can be seen in London: Lost Interiors, a
book compiled from superb black-and-white photographs
of these amazing houses, some of which belonged to aristocratic landowners,
others to plutocrats or society figures.
The drawing room, Grosvenor House
Most of the townhouses - those used for the Season rather than permanent residences - were
clustered round Park Lane, Mayfair or on Piccadilly, like Devonshire House.
Here once lived the fifth Duke of Devonshire and his wife Georgiana (pronounced jaw-janer), whom he
had married in 1774 when she was just 17. She was a
celebrated beauty who quickly became a leader of fashion, famous for her
towering hairstyles three feet high, decorated with birds, fruit, even ships in sail.
The couple spent 20 years in a ménage à trois with Lady Elizabeth Foster, Georgiana's close
friend, who was also the Duke's mistress. Meanwhile, Georgiana's gambling
led to mounting debts: on her death in 1806 they were found to be the
equivalent of £4 million in today's money.
The rich, restless second Duke of Westminster, AKA Bendor, in his 20s
Another Park Lane mansion was Grosvenor House,
belonging to the dukes of Westminster and one of the largest in London, as
befitted the family's status and wealth (their huge fortune came from their ownership of Mayfair).
Bendor, the blond and handsome second duke (1879-1953) was known as one of the richest men in England,
lavishing jewels on his mistresses, chief among
whom was Coco Chanel.
The picture gallery, Grosvenor House
A restless soul, Bendor would arrive without warning at any of his houses (or yachts).
All were kept ready: cars fuelled, silver polished, servants in livery.
But after the First World War, during which Grosvenor House had been requisitioned
as a hospital, land prices had risen so high that even for Bendor it had become uneconomic and he
sold it. It was demolished in 1927 and the
Grosvenor House Hotel was built on the site.
Designer Oliver Messel, Devonshire House, 1934
At the other end of the scale was 8 Pelham Place, the South Kensington home of
Cecil Beaton from 1940 to 1975. Superbly furnished by
this brilliant photographer, it was described loftily by the diarist Chips Channon (for whom the word ‘snob' could have been invented - in his diaries he
declares, ‘I am only really happy with royalty') as ‘a
tiny but super-attractive snuffbox of a house'.
Beaton, himself no social slouch, ran him close:
at his parties the women often wore stiletto heels, which pitted the floor, and later he would point them out, saying, ‘That's Princess Marina, that's
Julie Andrews, that's Vivien Leigh…'
French furnishings at 8 Pelham Place, the South Kensington home
of Cecil Beaton
Beaton's near neighbour in Pelham Place, until the mid-60s, was
the great stage designer Oliver Messel. When Messel's nephew Tony Armstrong-Jones (later Lord Snowdon)
became engaged to Princess Margaret, Messel laid on a lunch,
asking the Princess if there was anyone she would particularly like to meet.
She said she had always greatly admired the witty cabaret star Bea Lillie and so Messel invited her.
What none of them knew was that Bea Lillie had a drinking habit.
At the end of lunch she slid quietly under the table and was carried upstairs to sleep it off.
Tony and the Princess took their leave and Messel rushed back to his studio, where he was busy with fittings for
Elizabeth Taylor, only to be interrupted by a telephone call.
Cecil Beaton at home in Pelham Place, 1947
‘It's Kensington Police Station here, Mr Messel,' said the voice at the other end.
‘We thought you ought to know that there's a naked woman on your balcony, throwing bottles at everyone who passes
by.'
Among the last of these fascinating residences to survive was the aforementioned Londonderry House.
Throughout the 20s and 30s it had seen receptions and balls,
hosted by the Londonderrys for their four daughters
and two granddaughters. When eventually it had
to go, in July 1962, a farewell party for 300 was given by Alastair,
the 9th Marquess. Live sounds were supplied by a blues band featuring
a swaggering young Mick Jagger, no less - presaging the rise of a
whole new swinging London generation.
London: Lost Interiors by Steven Brindle is published by Atlantic, £50.
To order a copy for £42.50 with free UK
delivery until 22 December, go to mailshop.co.uk/books or call 020 3176 2937.
historic england, getty images
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