The Argyll Scandal

Margaret was the center of it all. She was the beautiful, wealthy daughter of a Scottish businessman, and after her coming out as Debutante of the Year in nineteen thirty she soon became a darling of London society thanks to her glamorous fashion and her aura of confidence. According to legend, the night of the birthday party, Margaret had an astrologer predict her future. I see happiness, laughter, much love, but beware there is danger. Danger from what Margaret asked, treachery.

The astrologer replied, you will be betrayed by the people you trust. Flash forward thirty years and Margaret, then fifty years old and the Duchess of Argyle, arrived at court wearing a tailored peacoat, mink wrap and pearl earrings. She was there to begin the divorce proceedings from her second husband, the Duke of Argyle, which would end up being the longest and costliest divorce proceedings British history had ever seen.

The couple had met after Margaret's divorce from her first husband, American businessman Charles Sweeney, but it soon became clear that Margaret had found another doomed match. The Duke was filing for divorce from his wife on the grounds of adultery, alleging that Margaret had taken eighty eight lovers in their time together, a list of lovers that included cabinet ministers,

Hollywood actors, and royals. It was a tabloid frenzy, not only thanks to the couple's titles and the breadth of the accusation, but because of the voyeuristic intimate details that were being made public. Margaret later described her second husband as quote in every essence a Gemini Gemini. People are usually two faced, aren't they? You should never trust them? Charming and treacherous. The story of the Argyle divorce and the story of Margaret's life are both complicated ones to tell.

It's hard to separate the truth from the tabloid narrative, and it's hard to discern what the truth even is at all. Margaret's recountenances are filled with contradictions, misrememberings, and, according to some outright lies. In more recent years, there have been attempts to reframe Britain's view of Margaret with our modern understanding of issues at play, like slutshaming and

ideas about revenge porn. Last year, the BBC aired the drama A Very British Scandal, which sought to paint a more nuanced, insightful portrait of the inner lives of the subjects at the heart of the scandal. But as you might imagine, television is meant to entertain, and the show still provides all of the sensationalized scandal that you might hope for from its title. Perhaps in the end, that's the only way you can really do justice to the story of the woman who thought of herself as a sensation.

Later in life, Margaret would reflect quote, I had wealth, I had good looks as a young woman, I had been constantly photographed, written about, flattered, admired. Included in the ten Best Dressed Women in the World list and mentioned by Cole Porter in the words of his hit song You're the Top. The top was what I was supposed to be. That last claim is actually only a half truth. In the original version of his song for the musical

Anything Goes, Coleporter never wrote a line about Margaret. The original lyric of the song and the one that is used today goes You're an O'Neill drama, your Whistler's Mama, great charming. But in nineteen thirty five there was a British production of Anything Goes with some of the lyrics anglicized by P. G. Woodhouse. Today, that one production is a curio of history with lyrics that sound not only

less relevant but downright confusing to some listeners today. Whatever you're expecting the angler size lyric to be, it's probably not this, But the P. G. Woodhouse couplet goes your Mussolini, your missus Sweeney, missus Sweeney, of course, referencing Margaret. Any person who could share a lyric with Mussolini, where audiences would think, yes, those two people are of the same

cultural cachet certainly deserves our historical examination. Unfortunately, for all of the glamour of Margaret Wigham Sweeney Campbell's life, there was also a twisted undercurrent of pain and a now all too modern story about how tabloid media builds women up just to tear them down. I'm Danish Sports and this is noble blood. Margaret was the only child of George Wigham, the millionaire chairman of the selling Nanse Corporation,

and his wife Helen. Though Margaret was born on her maternal grandparents estate in a sleepy Scottish town a few miles outside of Glasgow, Margaret's first memory of a home was the Park Avenue apartment in New York City, where she spent much of her childhood. Margaret recalled having no friends as a girl, preferring to keep the company of teddy bears. When she wasn't with the teddies, she preferred

the company of her parents. As the only child of a wealthy family, she became spoiled and close with her doting father. Her relationship with her mother was more difficult. Margaret would later recall that she would enter her mother's bedroom each morning, not knowing if she was going to be quote bright and loving or complaining and bad tempered. As Margaret grew up, her mother became obsessive over her

daughter's appearance. The fixation with looks likely came from Helen's own childhood insecurities from never feeling like she was attractive enough compared to her siblings. The constant attention given to Margaret's looks, even though it was negative, made the young Margaret a self described vain little girl. Her mother also took issue with Margaret's developing stammer, which began after she was forced to start writing with her right hand, even

though she was naturally left handed. Margaret was taken to London to be treated by Lionel Lowe, the same speech therapist who helped King George the sixth manage his stammer, who you might have seen portrayed by Jeffrey Rush in the movie The King's Speech. The real Lionel's methods proved ineffective on Margaret, much to her mother's disappointment. Margaret would later recount her mother telling her, no matter how pretty you are, Margaret, you will get nowhere in life if

you stammer. As Margaret grew older, the effect of a childhood without hearing the word no from her father began to cement in Margaret's personality. She believed that anything could be bought, and she had little respect for authority or for any adults who weren't her parents. Though Margaret was beginning to physically appear older and present herself as more sophisticated, she still doated on the teddy bears from her childhood,

much to her mother's chagrin. One day, Margaret forgot to bring her teddy bears inside from the lawn and found them the next morning soaked and destroyed. She would consider this the spiritual end of her childhood. Margaret's mother soon gave her the talk, which Margaret recalled as going something like quote, it's this awful thing we women have to put up with, we close our eyes and bear it. Margaret had no desire to hear about this, and the discomfort with the topic of sex stuck with her for

some time. Margaret's parents thought she was growing up too fast, and so she was transferred to the Heathfield School, where girls learned academics, played lacrosse, and attended twice daily prayer. None of that interested Margaret, who detested the school's expectations of conformity. She once retreated from her peers and noted that she had no friends at the school. Proclaiming quote, I don't like women in a mass I think they

should be individuals. Margaret was brought to and from school every day in a chauffeur driven Rolls Royce, which probably provides some indication as to how her fellow students saw her. Margaret felt that the disdain with which the other girls treated her was earned simply because she was much more sophisticated than them. As the car drove away, she shouted bye bye, girls. Enjoy your hockey and your lacrosse. I'm

off to a matinee in London. She was at the school for only two months before her family was forced to make a decision. Margaret could live at the school as a boarder or she'd be forced to leave, so she left and began learning from a governess. During that time, Margaret found her passion for boys. She was surprised to find they liked her speech impediment, seeing it as of vulnerability they could care for, something she described as a cold comfort. When Margaret was fifteen, her family spent the

Easter holiday at Bembridge on the Isle of Wight. It was there she met David Niven, a seventeen year old public schoolboy and future Oscar winning actor. Margaret became infatuated and soon lost her virginity to him. Even when she returned home from the vacation, she couldn't stop thinking about David, and she roped a friend into sneaking off to London with her to visit him, an incredibly bold move for a woman, let alone a fifteen year old girl of

the time. Her rebellious streak came to a sudden halt when she learned she was pregnant. Her father was furious and all hell broke loose in the house. This was the nineteen twenties and teen pregnancy is still taboo today. Margaret underwent a secret abortion and no one was to

speak of the quote incident again. In nineteen twenty nine, Margaret and her mother began preparing for Margaret's debut as a debutante, despite being a year younger than the typical deb Margaret reflected that quote, my mother must have realized that there was no holding me back. On May first, nineteen thirty, the first day of the London Social season, Margaret's coming out party was held. Their bold choice to kick off the season was backed up by an unlimited

dress budget. They were determined to make a splash. Margaret's popularity with boys, while recently traumatizing to her family, led her mother to see Margaret in a new light. Margaret was no longer simply the stuttering, plain looking creature who seemed so foreign to her. The nineteen thirty's wave of debutantes favored women like Margaret, bright and bold, fashionable and modern. Quote. The girls of the nineteen thirties not only had good looks, they knew how to dress, and they had far more

self confidence than their predecessors. Margaret would later reflect. Margaret's party cost forty thousand pounds and entertained four hundred guests. She made her entrance to the sound of a big band orchestra, and she was dressed in a Norman Hartnell turquoise dress embroidered with diamonds and pearls. Her mother had insisted that she wear white, the traditional color for debutantes,

but Margaret wanted to stand out from the others. She purposely stained the white dress that her mom had bought for her, which of course forced her to change into the turquoise one. The dress is designer Norman Hartnell would eventually become dressmaker to Queen Elizabeth the scond and Margaret would credit herself with Hartnell's rise to fame, and we can't say she's entirely wrong. She was a bonafied sensation.

One society column summed it up by saying, quote, she shone out above everyone else, as is fitting for the heroine of such an evening. Throughout the season, at just seventeen years old, she became one of the most photographed women in London, and magazines called her the prettiest debutante of the set. Margaret's celebrity was on the rise, and her mother, Helen, began to grow exhausted by the number of different invitations her daughter received. Eventually, Helen stopped going

with her altogether, leaving Margaret to attend events unchaperoned. It was during this time that Margaret developed what she called the Wigham system. She danced with any boy who asked her for the first half of the night, decide her favorites, and then dance only with them for the second. The men didn't mind, but other debs began to refer to

her as quote that Maggie Wiggham. That year, she also began to frequent clubs like the Embassy with a different number of men, including the Prince Ali Khan, who tried to marry her side note he would later marry Rita Hayworth. And Margaret also developed a sizeable friend group of other society women. One of the men she would eventually charm was American businessman Charles Sweeney, who claimed to initially dislike her.

I could not stand her, he wrote to me. She was a conceited, garrulous show off whose company I avoided as much as I could. Their mutual friend groups made encounters unavoidable, and one night, due to them both ending up without a partner, they agreed to be each other's dates to the Embassy Club. Sweeney would write that that night changed everything. He quote fell under the spell of Margaret Wigham's charm. After a few more dates, Charles Sweeney

unofficially proposed, and she accepted. This meant the world to him, but little to Margaret, who didn't see proposals as real commitments. The proof is in the fact that she soon also became unofficially engaged to their friend Max Aiken. Neither of the men knowing about the engagement she had to the other. Eventually, despite a third, more formal engagement being thrown into the mix.

Margaret had begun to see more of Sweeney, who was hurt by her betrayal of multiple engagements but still harbored feelings. Once more, Margaret had officially broken off the other engagements. She and Charles Sweeney became officially engaged. The wedding date was set, and her time as quote the Wigham as

the press called her, was coming to an end. The wedding was a glamorous affair, so many onlookers and members of the press wanted to see her heartnel dress, which featured an eighteen foot train embroidered with orange blossoms that surrounding traffic was blocked for three hours. The literal traffic stopping dress was recently displayed at the Victoria and Albert Museum. After the wedding, Margaret would become pregnant, but it would be the first in a series of miscarriages, of which

there would be eight total. During a later pregnancy, Margaret became so ill that the baby had to be delivered stillborn in order to save her life. Margaret fell into a deep depression, both from the loss of the child but also from Charlie's absence. Despite staying at her side droughout her illness. As she recovered, he would visit her briefly in the hospital each night before heading out to

a club. While it would still be a while before their divorce, that dynamic, no doubt, reaffirmed Margaret's feeling that Charlie Sweeney did not see her for the person she was. That quote, all he wanted for a wife was a pretty brainless doll. She tried to be that for the next several years, but as World War II began, their focus was torn away from their personal conflicts, and each

contributed in their own way to the war effort. While the couple did eventually have two children together, the tears in their marriage were forever evident. Both of them committed adultery, but neither would accept the blame for the dissolution of the relationship. In nineteen forty seven, the pair officially divorced. Margaret was thirty four years old. In the wake of the Second World War, the London social scene was just beginning to return, and Margaret was now ready to return

with it. She would find the next major phase of her life beginning not in London, though, but on a train to Paris, where she would be seated across from a tall man with a pointed nose. She'd come to learn that his name was Ian Campbell and that he would soon be the Duke of Argyle. He already knew

who she was. Apparently over a decade earlier, he had seen Margaret on the staircase of a London nightclub, and he turned to his wife at the time and said quote that captivating creature is the woman I'm going to

marry someday. Ian Douglas Campbell was penniless but titled. His great grandfather was the eighth Duke of Argyle, and thanks to the ninth and tenth not having sons, Ian inherited his family's title and home in Verrey Castle from his second cousin, the eleventh Duke of Argyle, was a bit of a mad academic, and his neglect of the castle in favor of other pursuits saw it fall into ruin. That meant that Ian also inherited the responsibility of restoring

the estate. For this he depended on his wife Janet and then his second wife Louise, both heiresses. Ian himself never worked and was addicted to alcohol, drugs and gambling even before his dukedom, he was in deep debt. Both of his wives would later accuse him of abuse and squandering their money. Years later, his future son in law would describe him as quote one of the cold list

nastiest men I've ever known in a wild cameo. That future son in law also just happened to be the writer Norman Mahler, who if you know anything about Norman Mayler, you know that he might have given Ian a run for his money in the bad husband department. But back to Ian and Margaret. When the pair met, they were both recently single, Ian and his wife having separated after the war on the grounds of mutual adultery. I can imagine that pointing out other women he wanted to marry

while the two were together didn't help. On that train ride to Paris where they met, Margaret was a sympathetic listener to ian struggles, and he to hers. Ian had been a prisoner of war and he was readjusting to a life of freedom. Both were starved for connection. Margaret invited Ian back to her home as soon as they arrived in London, and there they slept together for the first time. Margaret soon began to pursue Ian with the

intention of marriage. Her first husband, Charlie would later write in his memoir she had always been intrigued by the idea of becoming a duchess Ian. By this point, officially, the Duke was still in the process of persuading Louise to agree to an official divorce. He was thrilled by Margaret's pursuit of him. This time, he didn't have to do the work of finding an heiress himself. Their courtship was largely secretive due to his status as technically a

married man and hers as a divorcee. One night, they attended a West End play together, Ring Round the Moon, about a twins attempt to rescue his brother from what he believes will be a disastrous marriage. In hindsight, it seems like an omen that evening Ian proposed to Margaret with the promise that as soon as the divorce with Louise was finalized, she would be his duchess. Of course, Margaret accepted. Ian's charm worked on Margaret's parents just as

it had on her. They were impressed with his title, and they were excited at the prospect of their daughter becoming a duchess Ian. Even immediately charmed George into becoming a patron of the Campbell clan, and he pledged twenty five thousand pounds towards Verrey's restoration, with no return expected. Margaret herself was determined to bring the castle back to its former glory, and she blamed much of its current disarray on Louise, his ex wife, and not Ian himself.

For Margaret and her father's donations, they received a deed of gift which will come back to bite her later. But in nineteen fifty one, Louise finally agreed to the divorce, but with Ian about to be officially Margaret, he began to reveal his true colors for the first time. Unprompted, one night, he launched into a verbal attack on Margaret's children, her father, even Margaret herself. The next morning, she asked him what had provoked his rage, which only sent him

into another tirade. This was just days before their wedding. She felt that it was too late to back out, and she was too ashamed to tell her father, who she knew would tell her to call off the marriage and prioritize her happiness, the advice that he had given her during one of her earlier engagements. Plus there was the guilt that Margaret felt about the money they had already sunk into Ian's castle, so Margaret wrote it off

and went through with the marriage. On the eve of Margaret and Ian's wedding, she received a letter from her ex husband, Charlie, warning her not to marry Ian. Charlie had spoken with with Louise, who had told him of Ian's opportunistic scheming and his mistreatment of her and their sons. Charlie Sweeney wrote quote, I only hope you're not deluding yourself that Campbell is inspired by any great love, because he's not. Margaret ignored this letter, thinking that both Charlie

and Louise were jealous bitter exes. Margaret and Ian were married on March twenty second, nineteen fifty one, six hours after the divorce with Louise was official. It was a smaller ceremony, a far cry from Margaret's first wedding. This time, she wore a gray chiffon dress with a pussy bow, a feathered hat, and her signature set of pearls. The two honeymooned at Inveray, and she spent the time in workman's overalls immediately following through on her promise to help

restore the castle. Host of Margaret's work was unfruitful. Inverrat was beginning to seem like a lost cause. The money she was putting into the castle was also being put towards Ian's debts, which she learned about upon their return to the home. As much as Margaret cared about restoring the castle, she was not suited to life in the countryside, and it was agreed that Margaret would keep her home in London for social visits. As you might have predicted,

Ian's character didn't improve after the wedding. He would often get into public altercations, and Margaret spent much of their time together in public apologizing for him. His verbal abuse eventually escalated into physical violence, and during a trip to Jamaica, Margaret remembers an acquaintance having to rush into their room to stop Ian from physically attacking her. Margaret attempted to prevent her husband from drinking so often, hoping to return

him to the man she originally knew. She offered to recreate his favorite club Whites, in their home so that he could avoid the party atmosphere, but he bitterly explained that he went to the club to escape her. Ian began to belittle her in front of her friends, and as a result, her stammer started to worsen, which made it difficult for her to speak up for herself. Margaret later wrote that quote Ian had a markedly sadistic streak in his character. Things like that were done deliberately to

hurt me, and hurt me they always did. I realize now that if I had not given him the satisfaction of knowing this, Ian would have been deprived of much pleasure. Their relationship was complicated by Ian's manipulative nature and Margaret's willingness to make excuses for it. Quote he toyed with me as a cat plays with a mouse. Every time he sent that I had come to the end of my teather. He would then choose to become his most

agreeable self, ready to do anything to please me. Eventually, after three years of marriage, Inveray was ready to open to the public for tours. Ian took his role as duke seriously and spent his days greeting visitors and leading tours. Margaret was hopeful that he had turned a new leaf, but when the tourist season ended, he reverted right back to his old cruel ways. Margaret decided to take a trip abroad, and their lives and eventually homes became separate.

They remained married, but Margaret considered nineteen fifty six to be the real turning point for the rest of her life. This is where things take a turn for the soap operatic. The divorce wasn't actually the first legal proceeding that would make the Argyles headlines. That was actually a libel suit against Margaret from Ian's secretary. Vn McPherson was the widow of a man who had been a prisoner of war with Ian, and so their connection between Von and Ian

went beyond the typical employer employee relationship. Vaughn's loyalty to Ian was so apparent that Margaret began to believe that the two were conspiring against her. Margaret's assessment that Ian could do something drastic wasn't entirely out of nowhere. Ian had recently recovered from influenza, but had become addicted to drinimil, a drug that was so widely abused in the UK at the time that it's no longer prescribed. The drugs

led to bouts of erratic behavior and mania. We don't know if Margaret's suspicions about yvon were accurate, but Ian was in act plotting against her with his doctor to have her certified as insane. Years earlier, Margaret had fallen down an elevator shaft, and the pair Ian and his doctor wanted to claim that it had caused brain damage. To do so, they needed a note from Margaret's doctor,

who had refused and informed her of their plan. Margaret, even having her paranoia validated, continued just to blame her husband's actions on the drenamine and so loyal as ever to her husband, Margaret focused on the belief that Yvonne was the one speaking to the press. She later claimed that the proprietor of the Daily Mail told her that Yvonne was on the books for years, but there's no actual evidence. Margaret was so convinced in fact, and so determined to prove her case, that she sent Ian a

fake telegram pretending it was from Yvonne. It read quote rushing off for ten but all is ready as we planned to tear strips off Margaret financially and otherwise a million Thanks for your love, support and invaluable information without which I would be helpless. Happy Easter and then into battle side by side Yvon. Ian asked Margaret to apologize. She refused, and soon she received a letter notifying her that von was suing her for damages. In nineteen fifty nine,

Ian and Margaret took a trip to Australia on ducal duty. There, Ian discovered the diary that Margaret had kept for the past three years. Inside were the names of half a dozen men and a meticulously recorded schedule that showed each time she had met with them. When Margaret discovered him with the diary, he accused her of cheating, and she didn't deny it. How could she really Ian flew home alone the next day and their marriage was effectively over.

Instead of following her husband back to England, Margaret extended the trip to New York. Ian took the opportunity to go through Margaret's belongings in their home. He hired a locksmith to break into her cupboards and stole her letters, diaries, and a Manila folder addressed to her. Inside were some notes of no consequence and two polaroid photos, which would go on to become the central scandal that would mar

Margaret's legacy for the rest of her life. The photos showed Margaret performing oral sex on an unidentified man who would become something of a folk legend as quote the Headless Man. Although Margaret's back is to the camera, she could easily be identified by her signature, pearls and hair style. Wrapped around the photographs were sheets of paper reading before during oh And finished. The polaroids, inflammatory as they were, didn't anger Ian as much as another piece of paper

he found. On a sheet of hotel parchment, Margaret had pasted fragments of words cut out from innocuous letters written by Louise, Ian's ex wife and the mother of his children. The excerpts, which included Louise's signature, were arranged into a fake letter in which she is questioning the paternity of her and Ian's sons. It seems that Margaret, in an attempt to save her status as Duchess, was seeking to discredit the legitimacy of Ian's sons from his first marriage

and then have her own child with him. Or rather, Margaret was trying to fake a pregnancy by patting her stomach and later pass off a child as Ian's. She asked a Polish friend to bring her a baby to England. Don't be stupid, dear, was the friend's response, and Margaret abandoned the plan, although she kept all of the incriminating evidence. This was the final straw for Ian. He wasn't a particularly involved father, but his wife had crossed a clear line.

Margaret was furious when she returned home to see that Ian had stolen her possessions, but she had yet to realize that he had also discovered her drafts of the forged letters from Louise. So when Margaret went through with the plan to quote find these letters and show them to Ian, it resulted in her second libel suit, this time from Louise. Ian knew that he had sufficient grounds for divorce, but he still needed the smoking gun, the

diary that he had found in Australia. He devised a plan with his daughter Jean to raid Margaret's house for it. At six in the morning, they entered her home using a key that Ian had kept. Not having found what they were looking for in the study, they entered her bedroom, where Margaret was still sleeping. The noise woke her, and when she asked what they wanted, Jean held her down to the bed while Ian stole the diary from her

bedside table. The two fled the scene immediately. Ian swiftly notified Margaret that his divorce petition was sent to the Court of Session in Edinburgh, and he informed her that she was now banned from Inveray Castle, which was only functioning because of her father's money. She would make sure that Ian remembered that, and soon she visited with her father and his new wife, Jane, who he married after Helend passing several years earlier. In perhaps the most bizarre

accusation yet. During that trip, Margaret noticed Jane and Ian spending time alone together and concluded that they were having an affair. Margaret's paranoia was no doubt fueled by her view of Jane as an interloper in her and her father's relationship. After that trip, Margaret remained persistent in her assertion that she had a right to live in Inveraray, despite her clear distaste for country life, and so Ian

formally acquired an interdict banning her from the castle. Margaret was given one day to retrieve her belongings and identify what was hers, as decreed by the deed of gift she and her father had received at the time of her engagement to Ian. Margaret would soon learn that the deed, like much of her early impression of her husband, was a facade. Ian had more mortgaged everything on Margaret's deed in nineteen forty nine, before they had even been married.

Margaret's deed was worthless. In February of nineteen sixty two, Margaret and Ian arrived at the Edinburgh Court of Session. The courtroom was packed to capacity, with both British and foreign press, all eager to see what would become of the Duke and the quote dirty Duchess. Presiding over the case was Lord Wheatley, a judge known for his harsh sentences for crimes involving sex. He also happened to be a member of the Campbell clan on his mother's side.

The trial began with Ian presenting his evidence. Margaret's lawyer rejected the use of her diary on the grounds of confidentiality, but Wheatley approved it and it remained the key piece of evidence. Ian was cross examined for five hours. Margaret was cross examined for thirteen while Ian ultimately accused her

of sleeping with eighty eight men. There were three who were brought into the trial, Baron Sigmund von Braun, a former Nazi and then West German ambassador to the UN, John Khan, an American businessman, and Peter Combe, the former chief press officer at the London Savoy Hotel. Worth noting is that of the eighty eight men that the Duke

claimed he could list, a number were actually gay. Margaret didn't want to out her friends at a time when homosexuality was still a criminal offense, and so she didn't defend herself against the accusation. Of the three men who were brought into question, only Combe denied an affair. Margaret confessed she had an affair with von Braun, who was married, but it had happened before her own marriage to Ian. As their letters were not dated, the court couldn't conclude

that she was lying. The evidence against Kohane was also too weak to utilize. That left Combe the sole defender present in court. He was twelve years younger than Margaret, and she knew his mother, so Margaret claimed the relationship was strictly platonic. What she didn't know was that Ian had hired a private investigator to watch her and the investigator had taken photographs of Combe leaving her house in

the early hours of the morning. Margaret argued that Combe was helping her to take care of her beloved French poodles, but the judge dismissed that claim with the belief that Margaret would have entrusted that task to servants. Having gone through the diaries and the letters, only the polaroids, those pieces of evidence that would follow Margaret for the rest of her life remained. Initially, Margaret denied she was the one in the photographs, insisting they were from Ian's pornography.

Collect once the court was able to identify that it was in fact her due to the specificity of the necklace and hair, she admitted that, yes, it was her, but she claimed the headless man was Ian. This story wasn't bought, but to prove that it wasn't him, Ian underwent a medical examination. It provided a win in court, but a loss in self esteem. As Margaret's biographer put it, Ian had to live with the humiliation of publicly declaring

his lesser dimensions. Margaret never revealed the identity of the headless man, but it has been the topic of speculation for years. Was he a Hollywood actor politician? The British press debated for years. It even prompted a personal investigation from the Master of Roles at the time, who came up with a scheme to compare the handwriting of government men he suspected as potential culprits to the handwriting on

the captions of the polaroid. It was a fruitless attempt. Ultimately, Ian was granted a divorce from Margaret on ground of adultery with Peter Combe in May, three months after the proceedings began. Margaret was not present when Lord Wheatley read his fifty thousand word judgment, a reading that lasted three

hours and ten minutes. Ian was there, though, and he heard the judge his distant cousin describe his now ex wife as quote a highly sexed woman who had ceased to be satisfied with normal relations and had started to indulge in what I can only describe as disgusting sexual activities to gratify a basic sexual appetite. Years later, in a rare interview, Margaret would reflect on Wheatley's judgment quote,

I thought he was such a bastard. You don't tack if you're a judge, you judge, she said, mimicking balancing scales. It was the longest and costliest divorce Britain had ever seen up until that point. Margaret was ordered to pay seven eighths of the cost. Ian paid just one eighth, seeing as that was all he could afford. Ian's own adultery was of little concern to Wheatley or the public at large. Margaret was given all sorts of nicknames in

the press, all crude and none particularly clever. Quote dirty duchess, blow job duchess, filatio duchess. Some of the headlines at the time read such dirty linen in high places or She's a poisonous liar. Margaret was one of the earliest targets of the British presses relentless vitriolic fixation on a noble woman, a relationship from the British press that we've seen in more recent years with women like Diana, Princess of Wales and Megan Markle. Calling Margaret a liar wasn't untrue.

She had lied to Ian, and she had lied in court, but the press went steps beyond steps too far. Later in life, Margaret, who had been a tabloid star since seventeen, reflected that she had seen a drastic shift in the tabloid press's level of professionalism and their treatment of celebrities. In a very British statement, she remarked, they've become very unkind.

To put it quite mildly. Just three weeks after the divorce was finalized, Ian married an American heiress with whom he had been having an affair for the past two years. He and the heiress remained together until his death in nineteen seventy three. Over the course of the years following the divorce, Ian sold the right to publish his and Margaret's private letters. His thirst for revenge, even after he had won in court, would come back to bite him.

His beloved Club Whites, where he had once went to quote escape Margaret, voted him out on grounds of poor conduct. As for Margaret, she never remarried, but she continued to live her life as she always had. This included more men, more scandals, more legal conflicts, and more poodles. It's possible the poodles were maybe the truest loves of her life. When she eventually began to run out of money, she

opened her London home up for tours. She was later forced to move into a suite in a hotel, and when she couldn't pay that rent, she moved into a nursing home, where she ultimately passed in nineteen ninety three. She was eighty one years old. Two years later, an opera based on her life and divorce, titled Powder Her Face, premiered. To sum up his work, the composer Thomas A. Day quoted the phrase, even horrible people are tragic. That's the story of the Duchess of Argyle. But stick around to

hear Margaret in her own words. So much of Noble Blood is me attempting to create portrayals of historical figures that are nuanced and empathetic, but not fawning. I always try to frame a story to be true to the fundamental humanity of the people involved. No one is all good or all bad. Everyone is products of their environment and experiences. But because this is a history podcast, often

we're constructing our versions of figures from history from multiple sources. Sometimes, if we're lucky, we get their own writing, but usually it's from the writing of other people around them. My goal with this podcast is always to give voice to people from the past. Who maybe we never thought about in nuanced terms. In the case of the Duchess of Argyle, we are afforded a rare gift her actual voice. Thanks to the BBC Archives, you can hear the Duchess actually

speaking about her own life and for scandalous divorce. I'm linking a video in the episode description and I think it's well worth a listen to try to understand one of the most impossibly complicated women in history in her own words. Noble Blood is a production of iHeart Radio and Grimm and Mild from Aaron Mankey. Noble Blood is hosted by me Danashworts. Additional writing and researching done by Hannah Johnston, hannah's Wick, Mira Hayward, Courtney Sender, and Lori Goodman.

The show is produced by rima Il Kali, with supervising producer Josh Thain and executive producers Aaron Manke, Alex Williams, and Matt Frederick. For more podcasts from iHeartRadio, visit the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows.