Noble Blood - The Argyll Scandal

Episode Date: June 7, 2022

Margaret Whigham Sweeney Campbell was the most notorious tabloid figure of her day. Her divorce from Ian Campbell, Duke of Argyll, would be the longest and costliest divorce in British history until that point, and would help usher in the all-too-modern tabloid trend of tearing scandalized women apart. Listen to Margaret, Duchess of Argyll - In Her Own Words (BBC Archive) for more.  Support Noble Blood: — Bonus episodes and scripts on Patreon — Merch! — Order Dana's book, Anatomy: A Love StorySee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

This is an I-heart podcast. Guaranteed Human. Readers, Katie's finalists, publicists. We have an incredible new episode this week for you guys. We have our girl Hillary Duff in here, and we can't wait for you to hear this episode. They put on Lizzie McGuire at 2 a.m. Video on Demand.

This guy's bobo-Boo-A-M-A-M-Water. Lissie McGuire. And I'm like, wild bat you were with. It was like a first closet moment from me where I was like, I don't feel like she's hot, like the rest of that. No, no, no. I was like, she's beautiful. But I'm appreciating her.

in a different way than these boys are. I'm not like, but listen to Los Coleristas on the Iheart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or whatever you get your podcast. Welcome to Noble Blood, a production of IHeart Radio and Grimm and Mild from Aaron Manky. Listener discretion advised. In 1931, a socialite named Ethel Margaret Wiggum

held her 19th birthday party at the Embassy Club, one of London's most exclusive supper clubs at the time. It was the kind of place where film stars and royalty co-mingled, and 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 1930, 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. Treacher, the astrologer replied. You will be betrayed by the people you trust. Flash forward 30 years and Margaret, then 50 years old and the Duchess of of Argyll 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 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 88 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 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 slut-shaming 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 10 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 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,

Cole Porter 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 1935, 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 anglicized lyric to be, it's probably not this, but the PG-Woodhouse couplet goes, Your Mussolini, your Mrs. Sweeney. Mrs. 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 Wiggum 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 Dana Schwartz, and this is Noble Blood. Margaret was the only child of George Wiggum, the millionaire chairman of the Selenese 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 teddy's, 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 Logue, the same speech therapist who helped King George the 6th 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 effects 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 yourself as more sophisticated, she still doted 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 student 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 a vulnerability they could care for, something she described as a cold comfort. When Margaret was 15, her family spent the Easter holiday at Bembridge on the Isle of Wight, It was there she met David Niven, a 17-year-old public school boy and future Oscar-winning actor. Margaret became infatuated and soon lost her virginity to him. Even once 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 15-year-old girl of the time. Her rebellious streak came to a sudden hall, when she learned she was pregnant. Her father was furious and all hell broke loose in the house. This was the 1920s and teen pregnancy is still taboo today. Margaret underwent a secret abortion and no one was to speak of the quote incident again. In 1929, 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 there was no holding me back. On May 1, 1930, 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 1930s wave of debutants favored women like Margaret, bright and bold, fashionable and modern. Quote, the girls of the 1930s 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 40,000 pounds and entertained 400 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 purposefully stained the white dress that her mom had bought for her, which, of course, forced her to change into the turquoise one. The dress's designer, Norman Hartnell, would eventually become dressmaker to Queen Elizabeth the second, and Margaret would credit herself with Hartnell's rise to fame, and we can't say she's entirely wrong. She was a bona fide 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 17 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, begin to be able to. to grow exhausted by the number of different invitations her daughter received. Eventually, Helen stopped going with her altogether, leaving Margaret to attend events unshaparooned. It was during this time that Margaret developed what she called the Wiggum 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 Wiggum.

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 sizable 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 Wiggum'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 Aitken, 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 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 Wiggum, 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 Hartnell dress, which featured an 18-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 throughout 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 1947, the pair officially divorced. Margaret was 34 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 Argyll. He already knew who she was. Apparently, over a decade earlier, he had seen Margaret on the first. 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 8th Duke of Argyle, and thanks to the 9th and 10th,

not having sons, Ian inherited his family's title and home in Verre Castle from his second cousin. The 11th 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 coldest, nastiest men I've ever known. In a wild cameo, that future son-in-law also just happens to be the writer Norman Mailer, who, if you know anything about Norman Mailer, you know that he might have been, 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's struggles, and he to her.

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, quote, 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 around 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 25,000 pounds towards Inveray's restoration with no return expected.

Margaret herself was determined to bring the castle back to a castle back to a 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 1951, Louise finally agreed to the divorce. But with Ian about to be officially Margaret's, 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 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 22, 1951, 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 workmen's overalls, immediately following through on her promise to help restore the castle.

Most of Margaret's work was unfruitful. Inverere 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 sensed that I had come to the end of my tether, he would then choose to become his most agreeable self, ready to do anything to please me. Eventually, after three years of marriage,

in Verreux 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 1956 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 Argyle's headlines.

That was actually a libel suit against Margaret from Ian's secretary. Von McPherson was the widow of a man who had been a prisoner of war. with Ian, and so their connection between Yvonne and Ian went beyond the typical employer-employee relationship. Vaughan'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 Drinamil, 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 Yvonne were accurate,

but Ian was in fact plotting against her, with his doctor, to have her certified as insane. Years earlier, Margaret had fallen down in 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 Drinimo. 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 10 days 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, Ivan.

Ian asked Margaret to apologize. She refused and soon she received a letter notifying her that Yvonne was suing her for damages. In 1959, Ian and Margaret took a trip to Australia on Dukele 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 hairstyle. 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 Inverray 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 Helen 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 Invererere, 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 mortgaged everything on Margaret's deed in 1949 before they had even been married. Margaret's deed was worthless. In February of 1962, 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 13. While Ian ultimately accused her of sleeping with 88 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 Cohane, an American businessman, and Peter Come, the former chief press officer at the London Savoy Hotel. Worth noting is that of the 88 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 effect, 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 Cohane was also too weak to utilize. that left Combe, the sole defender present in court. He was 12 years younger than Margaret, and she knew his mother, so Margaret claimed their 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 collection. 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,

quote, 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 Come.

In May, three months after the proceedings began, Margaret was not present when Lord Wheatley read his 50,000-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, 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 attack if you're a judge, you judge, she said, mimicking balance. counting 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 and none particularly clever. Quote, Dirty Duchess, Blowjob Duchess, Fallaccio Duchess. Some of the headlines at the time

read, Such dirty linen in high places, or, She's a Poisoness Liar. Margaret was one of the earliest targets of the British press's 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 17,

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, quote, 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 1973.

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 1993. She was 81 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 Aday, 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. Readers, Katie's finalists, publicists.

We have an incredible new episode this week for you guys. We have our girl Hillary Duff. in here and we can't wait for you to hear this episode. They put on Lizzie McGuire at 2 a.m. Video on demand. This guy's bobo-u-bub. 2 a.m. Whatever time it is. Lizzie McGuire. And I'm like...

Wild. A wild batch you were with. It was like a first like closet moment from me where I was like... You're like, I don't feel like she's hot. Like the rest of that. No, no, no. I was like, she's beautiful. But I'm appreciating her in a different way than these boys are. I'm not like... But listen to Los Coleristas on the IHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or whatever you get your

podcast. Readers, Katie's. finalists, publicists. We have an incredible new episode this week for you guys. We have our girl Hillary Duff in here and we can't wait for you to hear this episode. They put on Lizzie McGuire at 2 a.m. Video on Demand. This guy's boo-a-m. 2 a Mawyer. Whatever time it is, Lizzie McGuire. And I'm like, a wild bat you were with. It was like a first like closet moment from me where I was like, I don't feel like she's hot like the rest of that. No, no, no. I was like, she's beautiful. But I'm appreciating her in a different way than these boys are. I'm not like

But listen to Los Coltristas on the Iheart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or whatever you get your podcasts. 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 Manky. Noble Blood is hosted by me, Dana Schwartz. Additional writing and researching done by Hannah Johnston, Hannah Zwick, Mira Hayward, Courtney Sender, and Lori Goodman. The show is produced by Rima Il-Kaali, with supervising producer Josh Thane and executive producers Aaron Manky, Alex Williams, and Matt Frederick. For more podcasts from IHeartRadio, visit you. Visit the I Heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows. Readers, Katie's finalists, publicists. We have an incredible new episode this week for you guys.

We have our girl Hillary Duff in here, and we can't wait for you to hear this episode. They put on Lizzie McGuire 2 a.m. Video on Demand. This guy's... 2 a.m. Lizzie McGuire. And I'm like... A wild bat. A wild batch you were with. It was like a first closet moment from me where I was like... You're like, I don't feel like she's hot, like the rest of that. No, no, no. I was like, she's beautiful.

but I'm appreciating her in a different way than these boys are. I'm not like, but listen to Los Angeles on the Iheart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or whatever you get your podcast. This is an IHeart podcast, guaranteed human.