On board the S.S. Ormonde (at the same time as both Triantafillos Balutis and Stelios Balutis) in February 1923, there was a very special passenger: Her Royal Highness the Grand Duchess, Princess Ivanovich.
Let’s just say I probably won’t ever get the chance to write another blog post with even half as many references to smoking as this. On with the story!
The Duchess in Australia
The Perth Daily News of 8 Feb 1923 launched the story:
A RUSSIAN PRINCESS PASSES THROUGH ON WORLD TOUR.
Her Royal Highness the Grand Duchess, Princess Ivanovich, is aboard the liner Ormonde, which arrived at Fremantle this morning. Her Highness is an Englishwoman by birth, and is proceeding to Sydney, where she will be joined by His Highness the Grand Duke. Afterwards they will go to America on a tour round the world. It is stated that her Highness was formerly married to an Englis[h]man and inherited considerable money. Her present marriage took place, it is stated, only a few months ago.
The story then became more elaborate, as per the Melbourne Herald (17 Feb 1923):
If any one woman more than another is entitled to a place in the pages of a novel, she is the Princess Ivanovitch, who is at present on a tour of Australia. She has visited practically every place worth seeing in the world. She has been engaged to one of the richest men in the world, and she has married royalty. These are few of the things that have been crammed into the life of this remarkable woman. Cutting a unique figure in her quaint dress, shoes and hat — things that would being envy to the heart of a Brittany girl — and puffing smoke from a delicately-rolled cigarette, in true Bohemian style, the Princess, an elderly woman, strolled unaccompanied around Melbourne all day yesterday until late In the evening, admiring, or criticising the outstanding points of interest. Only eighteen months ago the Princess, who is an Englishwoman, having been born in Lancashire, married the Grand Duke Prince Ivanovitch, of Russia, a second cousin to the late Czar. The wedding was celebrated at San Diego. California. They had been intimately acquainted for many years.
Yearning for Travel
According to the story the Princess related to a Herald representative, the only two countries of any which she has not visited are Russia and New Zealand. She admitted that she had an unquenchable yearning for travel, and could hardly bear to remain in the one place for long. Most of her life has been taken up in travelling. The longest spell in one country she had experienced for more than 20 years was her stay in England, during the war period, when the existing regulations compelled women to remain in the country. Before marrying: Prince Ivanovitch, she was Mrs Brewster-Fuller. She has only one child living, a daughter, who is married to the Dutch Ambassador at Pekin. Prior to meeting her late husband, the Duchess was engaged to one of the wealthiest men in the world — Mr Vercker-Vercloyle-Cloy, who was on his way to New York, where the marriage was to be celebrated, when he died from double pneumonia. He contracted the illness after having jumped overboard from a ship on the South American coast in an attempt to rescue a drowning sailor.
Marie Antoinette Pearls
The entire estate of Mr Vercker-Vercloyle-Cloy was willed to the Princess. Included in the personalty left by the deceased millionaire were celebrated pearls — a three string necklace originally the possession of Marie Antoinette. “I’m terrified to wear them,” the Princess admitted. She stated that they are safely deposited in a Paris bank.
Speaking of the opinions she had already formed of Melbourne, the Princess grew enthusiastic regarding the Botanical Gardens and St. Kilda road. She said the gardens were beautiful, one of the best she has seen. While loth to draw comparisons, she couldn’t name another road in the world which excels our highway in beauty. Nevertheless she is, generally speaking. disappointed with Melbourne, particularly with the buildings and shop window- displays. “They are comparatively poor,” she remarked, citing those of Valparaiso and Buenos Ayres and other large cities south of the equator, as being a long way ahead in this respect. Princess Ivanovitch was at Oberammergau when the famous Passion play was enacted. She describes the efforts of Anton Bang and his followers as simply wonderful. Throughout her travels the Princess has kept a minute diary, and contemplates writing the history of her career.
By the time she reached Sydney, her story had expanded yet further (Brisbane Telegraph, 20 Feb 1923):
Mystery surrounds an Englishwoman described as the Grand Duchess the Princess Ivanovitch, who arrived in Sydney yesterday, aboard the Ormonde. When it was objected that that name was not to be found on the rolls of the Russian nobility she admitted that it was an assumed one. She said her husband had never told her his real name, because if it became known the Bolsheviks would confiscate his estates. She thought he was a Romanoff. “Nevertheless,” she said, “he commands what once was the Czar’s special regiment. He wears a uniform of white cloth, covered with gold […] gold helmet, with rare white plume The visitor told an extraordinary story of romance, millions, and marriage. “The Grand Duke,” she said, “is coming to Australia in the most gorgeous yacht in the world, valued at £250,000, to join me, preparatory to our sailing for New Zealand, Samoa, Honolulu, and Japan, where he resides.” Her only daughter, she said, was the wife of the ambassador for Holland. She was a widow until 18 months ago, when, she said, she married the Grand Duke in America. She was in her sixties at the time.
The Warwick Daily News (also 20 Feb 1923) named her late husband as instead “Bereker Perhoyle Clay”, and said that she had inherited twenty two million dollars, but her Russian husband “would not allow her to touch a penny of it”, la-la-la.
Inevitably, the Perth Daily News (20 Feb 1923) was starting to smell a rat:
A SHABBY “ROYALTY” – IS SHE A PRINCESS? – SYDNEY SUSPECTS HER.
SYDNEY, Tuesday.
Mystery surrounds the woman who claims to be the Russian Grand Duchess, Princess Ivanovich. Doubt has been thrown on her story. She appeared in the lounge of a fashionable hotel to-day clad in a huge white fur coat, torn in many places, and covering apparently a dilapidated blue dress. Her hands were swathed in dull jewellery ware, consisting, it seemed, of something like moonstones. She wore two huge bracelets on her arm, looking like replicas of handcuff chains. When she was told that there is no record in Russian royalty of the name of Ivanovich she admitted that this was an assumed name, and that it was used to mislead the Bolsheviks. “My husband is a Duke,” she says. “He will be here soon.” In the meantime Sydney is wondering what will be the next move of the unique visitor.
By the 21 Feb 1923, the Brisbane Daily Standard was rather enjoying the whole show:
Meanwhile Sydney is wondering what she will say next. At any rate, she is having the time of her life, even if she does smoke Capstan cigarettes.
Before she left Australia, she went up to the Jenolan Caves, travelling in the second class smoking compartment. And then, finally, she left Sydney aboard the steamer Manuka, according to the Melbourne Herald (23 Feb 1923):
SHOOK HER FISTS
Russian Duchess Angered
THREATENS TO DUCK REPORTERS
SYDNEY, Friday.
“If my husband the Duke was here he would pitch you into the sea. And if reporters or photographers dare to board my yacht, the Henriette, when she arrives here. I shall recommend that they be thrown overboard.” So sick of Sydney reporters and photographers is the woman who protests that she is the Grand Duchess of Ivanovitch that she shook her fists at pressmen who tried to bid her au revoir on her departure for New Zealand by the steamer Manuka today. The Duchess, although she had only been on board 30 minutes, was extremely popular with fellow travellers. She was found sitting forward on the main saloon deck as usual, puffing away at a cigarette.
A group of young men and several ladies was standing about her, and she was telling them a wonderful story of mansions and yachts. All seemed interested.
“Photograph Me in Bed?”
The duchess refused to be interviewed and continued to speak to her group of listeners. “Since my arrival in Sydney on Monday,” she said, “no fewer than 98 reporters have visited me. When the Ormonde reached Sydney, nine reporters came into my little cabin, and I remonstrated with them for I was not fully dressed.”
The Duchess began to cry. As she wiped her eyes, she continued: “One photographer was extremely persistent. He wanted to photograph me, and I said ‘What! Photograph me in bed? Certainly not!” “I have had a most unpleasant stay in Sydney, and I am sure my husband will protest when he gets here in his yacht. Perhaps he will not come to Sydney now.”
When the Manuka left the wharf the Duchess was leaning over the rails and smiling wistfully.
The Melbourne Herald ran a picture of her in its story the next day:
The Duchess in New Zealand
In Wellington, she stayed in the Midland Hotel, where the New Zealand Herald (3 March 1923) noted:
The titled visitor was an elderly woman and her clothes were hardly in keeping with her name, for she was dressed in a stained skirt and a much-travelled fur coat. Neither did her method of lighting a match upon her shoe suggest the grand ducal manner.
The Newcastle Sun (14 Mar 1923) continued the story:
GUEST OF HIS MAJESTY
RUSSIAN “PRINCESS”
Overstepping the Mark
WELLINGTON (N.Z.), Wednesday.
From her grand palaces at Moscow and Petrograd, and her “lovely little villa at Monte Carlo,” the “Grand Duchess Prince Ivanovich,” or, to use her numerous English names, Harriet Rushford Henrietta Southall Fuller, paid an involuntary visit to Ashburton, and as a first offending inebriate was a guest at His Majesty’s local lock-up. Fuller arrived at Ashburton on Tuesday by the Christchurch-Dunedin [ex]press, in a state of drunkenness, according to the evidence at the court, when a charge in accordance with her condition at the time of her arrival was preferred against her. It was stated that on leaving Christchurch, the ‘princess’ indulged in liquid refreshment, whisky, and so generously did she treat herself that she rapidly became a source of great annoyance to lady travellers. At Rakala, the guard decided that the “princess” had overstepped the mark, and relieved her of the rest of her whisky. Her indignation knew no bounds. Muddled with drink, and seething with temper, she achieved a remarkable state of untidiness. Her clothing was terribly disarranged. Her boots were found in another part of the car, and her stockings flapped about her ankles.
“QUITE NICE”
Fuller became altogether too unladylike in every action for her fellow passengers, and when the train reached Ashburton a constable invited the “princess” to come along. Fortunately she was under the impression that she was to be motored to Timaru, which she thought “quite nice” on the part of her Ashburton friends. The journey, however, ended abruptly at the lock-up. When she sobered up she also woke up the entire community. For a lady of 63 summers her voice possessed remarkable volume. She told the senior sergeant that who would tell Lord Jellicoe of the “frightful insult.” The sergeant, however, told the “Princess” that Lord Jellicoe had instructed him to put her in the cells. This calmed the “Princess”, strange to say. At nine o’clock the sergeant read the Riot Act, for the atmosphere was being rudely disturbed, and the neighbors were afforded little rest. Fuller had the modest sum of £8 in her possession, but she also possesses an elaborate looking passport, and much correspondence which certainly indicated that she was “somebody,” somewhere. The senior sergeant allowed her out on bail, in the sum of £3, and there was no appearance of the “Princess” in court. A constable described the appearance of the accused. “She was a disreputable sight, and in a beastly state of drunkenness,” he said. “It’s a very bad case,” observed the bench, and inflicted a fine of £3.
The NZ Truth (which I didn’t know about before) was quite taken with her, publishing this rather flattering drawing:
From Dunedin (where she had some difficulty find a hotel room), she moved onwards “by the southern express on her way to Queenstown”. She also caused a minor commotion at Timaru station, where she grabbed a refill of whisky and cigarettes in a local hotel, before legging it back yelling loudly just as the train was about to depart.
And then it was time for the journey to end, as per the Otago Daily Times of 29 March 1923:
The “Grand Duchess Princess Ivanovitch,” or Mrs Brewster Fuller, as she is otherwise known, returned to the North Island last week, and, after visiting Rotorua, will leave Auckland on April 15 for Honolulu and China, to pay a visit to her daughter, who, she says, is “Lady” Oudenyk, wife of the Ambassador for the Netherlands at Peking. The lady persists in the statement that she is the wife of the Grand Duke, whom she expects to meet in Auckland next week. They have houses, she asserts, at Rome, Venice, Paris, Monte Carlo, Lake Como (Switzerland), London, Folkestone, and Sicily, besides three homes in Russia, where her husband has lost £150,000 a year through the depreciation of the rouble. She is alleged to have recently received a letter from her agent in England, giving her news of her tenants, and stating that, as things were improving, her income would be in the region of £1200 a year from now on.
Home Again
By 19 October 1923, Mrs Fuller had arrived back in the UK, telling yet another tall tale that the Brisbane Daily Standard picked up on:
The first prize in the Best Lie About Russia competition is awarded to the London newspaper that published the following:
“STARVING RUSSIA.
The Grand Duchess Ivanovitch, cousin to the late Czar, travelling incognito as Mrs. Fuller, arrived at Southampton from Canada recently. She said that the Grand Duke recently sent 35 ship-loads of grain to his peasants, but the Bolsheviks became aware of its arrival and burned all the vessels to the water’s edge.
The starving people, who had gathered in the hope of obtaining some of the grain, rushed into the sea up to their necks, seized the burning corn and extinguishing the flames, swallowed it greedily.”
This is on such a magnificent scale that comment is difficult; but I must say that I especially like the expression, “his peasants.” – From the London “Daily Herald.”
No doubt assiduous researchers will be able to find countless other news articles documenting the Duchess’ haphazard (and smoke-filled) travels through Hawaii, America and Canada: but this is where I’ve drawn the line.
Oh, And One Last Thing…
Before all the above happened, the Manawatu Standard published this tiny news snippet on 8 Feb 1923:
The Grand Duke and Grand Duchess Duorak Ivanovitch have reached Sicily in their yacht, from Venice, en route for New Zealand.
Similarly, the Feilding Star (8 Feb 1923) noted:
The Grand Duke and Grand Duchess Dvorak Ivanovitch, left Sicily in their yacht en route for New Zealand last month.
In fact, the same story appeared in Brisbane’s Daily Standard as far back as 27 Dec 1922, which I suspect was when the original set of cables was sent, warning New Zealand of the approach of Typhoon Brewster-Fuller:
We Breathe Again.
The cable man says that the Grand Duke and Duchess Bvorak [sic] Ivanovitch are yachting to New Zealand. It’s a comfort, anyway, to know that all the grand dukes were not thrown into the bread line when the Soviets took over.