58—MARYLEBONE JOURNAL
THE DUKE AND THE DANCER
Edmond was a year or two younger than Connie and – at least according to the London correspondent of the New York Times – he was a ‘flat-skulled, vacuous young noodle’
household. The arrangement excited a good deal of comment, almost all of it of the censorious kind. When she rode in Rotten Row, it was a scene not to be missed. The men ogled, the women tutted. Connie lived in Duchess Street for more than a decade, while the Duke kept rooms nearby, generally a short walk away, often in Mortimer Street. As Connie’s theatrical talents began to wane, her name became less common on the bill. She was now more likely to be seen riding with the hunt in Melton Mowbray. She thoughtfully eschewed pursuing the Badminton foxes, out of respect for the Duchess. In the Duke’s defence, he always
splendid home was at Badminton, Gloucestershire where he was known to all as, simply, the Duke. The Duchess also kept her establishment at Badminton and rarely came to London. On one famous occasion, a portrait arrived at Badminton. The Duchess asked that it be brought to her – it was the painting of an actress (it may have been Connie). With that phlegm that only a Duchess can display, she told the butler, “His Grace will want that placed in his room, perhaps.” The Duke was a famous four-
in-hand coachman in his day, a legendary supporter of hunting and field sports, and he keenly enjoyed the company of actresses. He lurked backstage at the Gaiety and elsewhere, taking his favourites to supper, gifting them with jewellery and maybe something nice from their corsetiere of choice. The Duke’s fascination with
Connie Gilchrist moved beyond the odd supper. When she was only in her late teens, he set her up at 4 Duchess Street. He furnished the house and superintended the domestic
observed all the proprieties of good conduct in public, as he understood them. Connie was always suitably chaperoned when on her hunting weekends. It was understood by any young swell who wished to be introduced to Connie that he must first approach the Duke for permission. This brings the story back to All Souls, Langham Place, in the summer of 1892. For some months that year,
there had been talk in the clubs of a romance. While in Leicestershire, Connie had been seen more than once in the company of Edmond Walter Fitzmaurice, the 7th Earl of Orkney, a Scottish peer. Edmond was a year or two younger than Connie and – at least according to the London correspondent of the New York Times – he was a “flat-skulled, vacuous young noodle”. Regardless, the Duke had not stood in Cupid’s way. Some had whispered that perhaps the Duke had wearied of the bills and thought it time for Connie to make a good marriage. The radical journal, The Star, put it plainly: “The heavy expense is more than a Duke with one foot in the grave relishes in these days of agricultural depression.” The wedding had not been
announced until the morning of the ceremony. The curate-in- charge, the Rev Mr Legge would officiate. All Souls was not overly
crowded. The groom’s parents were in attendance. The two official witnesses were the bride and groom’s respective solicitors (a rather crass bit of business, one would suggest). Of course, the Duke was there to walk the bride down the aisle. As mentioned, there had been whispered speculation that Connie was his daughter, as if perhaps that put a rosier tint on the Duke’s interest in her welfare. However, that morning, on the license, Connie swore to be the “daughter of David Gilchrist, civil engineer, deceased”. These are not questions for a wedding day. A reporter from the Penny Illustrated Paper had dashed to the scene and wrote later that Connie looked “very well indeed” in a dress of blue bengaline with puffed velvet sleeves and a “very becoming straw hat”. She also displayed a quite sizeable diamond brooch (said to be from the Earl but possibly a parting gift from the Duke?) It was a small but happy group that took the short walk to 4 Duchess Street for the wedding breakfast. The Earl and his new Countess would leave that night for Minehead and their honeymoon. It’s always preferable to end
a romance “happily ever after” and, in this case, it seems to be an accurate statement. Her Duchess Street home was given up. The Earl and Countess settled in the Home Counties at Stewkley, their country house near Leighton Buzzard. Connie grew flowers and grew stout. The Earl, presumably, became an older “vacuous noodle”. They are remembered well in the area for their good works and long lives. Constance, Countess of Orkney died in 1946, the Earl lived until 1951. As for the Duke of Beaufort, he died (fittingly) before the end of the 19th century. The gout carried him off in 1899. One of the Gloucestershire papers acknowledged that Puritan sectors of the public may have found great fault with him, but “we do not think anything petty, mean or unsportsmanlike was ever alleged against him”.
HISTORY
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