When you visit the green, genteel calm of Enfield, there is no obvious clue that this north London suburb is home to the grand mansion where the fascinating Sassoon family whose immense wealth and power was such that in 1879 the magazine Vanity Fair dubbed them the “Rothschilds of the East”, once lived.
Yet from 1912, when the young Philip Sassoon, aged just 23, inherited Trent Park House in Hertfordshire from his father, Edward Sassoon, 2nd Baronet of Kensington Gore, the house became the interwar centre of a world of decorative oriental flair, British global power and social extravaganzas, all set amid the trappings of English elegance.
After being requisitioned during the Second World War as a centre for intelligence operations, it underwent a variety of subsequent public uses and then fell into tragic neglect and disrepair. Starting in 2014, a huge restoration campaign project was undertaken to restore the house and re-open it for public benefit. It’s been led by co-trustees Lord Cholmondeley, a direct descendent of Philip’s sister, Sybil Sassoon; and local politician Jason Charalambous, who collaborated with Berkeley Group homes, to re-model the historic parts of their new housing development.
More than a decade on from the launch of this campaign and a century on from Philip’s golden era, we now have the opportunity to step into this exquisite lost world again and view the splendorous lifestyle of one of the most successful and influential Anglo-Jewish families.
The Sassoons, a family of Baghdadi-Jewish descent, settled in India under the British Raj and dominated mercantile trade throughout India, making a fortune from opium, metals, wool and spices. At one point, David Sassoon’s trading company controlled 70 per cent of the opium trade through India. Although he was closely aligned with the British imperial world, portraits of David (1792-1864) show he wore oriental dress and kept a long beard, and he reputedly never learnt English. But he insisted his sons were sent to England to be educated, and by the time his great-grandson Philip flourished at Eton and then at Oxford, the Sassoons’ quest to become quintessential Englishmen had clearly been achieved.
The family were custodians of Trent Park House from 1909 to 1939, but it really came to national attention after Edward Sassoon died in 1912, instantly making Philip one of the wealthiest men in England. In Edward’s will he noted: “I earnestly impress on my children the necessity of avoiding all extravagance.” This turned out to be a tough ask given that Philip, whose mother was Lady Aline Caroline de Sassoon, the daughter of banking tycoon Gustave Samuel de Rothschild, had inherited three mansions, including one on Park Lane.
It became immediately clear that commercial life held no interest for him. Neither did avoiding extravagance, or practising his faith – his inherited seat on the board of Bevis Marks Synagogue in London was ignored. A different calling beckoned and spending the family wealth in the most lavish way possible, while flaunting his political acumen and ambition, held far more allure.
[Missing Credit]
Having joined the Royal East Kent Yeomanry, the reservist regiment for his father’s parliamentary constituency of Hythe, Kent, Philip succeeded his father as the Conservative MP for Hythe. At just 23, he was nicknamed “baby of the house” but he quickly made his mark. At the same time, another ambitious talent, Winston Churchill, had taken up the role of First Lord of the Admiralty and the two young Conservatives became firm friends, notably after their careers dovetailed during the First World War. The historic significance of this dynamic and creative friendship for British Jewish life has been relatively under explored: revisiting it through the restoration of Trent House gives us an insight into its importance and is a chance to catch up.
Winston Churchill in the Wisteria Walk at Trent House in the 1930s[Missing Credit]
Churchill’s fondness for Sassoon’s company and Sassoon’s encouragement of Churchill’s painting talents may well have had a role in the prime minister’s lifelong philosemitism. Likewise, Churchill fostered Sassoon’s ministerial role in the crucial preparation for England’s defences before the Second World War. Amid the Gatsby-like glamour of the 1920s, neither of these young men, one who would see old age and one who sadly would not, could realise just how pivotal both would be for the future security of the country and the world.
Similarly, it has been fascinating to discover just how intimate Sassoon was with the royalty of the day, some of whom became the house’s most frequent visitors, a testimony to Philip’s impeccable standards.
In tune with the English aristocratic fashion of the time, Sassoon modelled the house on a mock-Georgian stately home theme, making it perfect as a glamorous, out-of-town retreat. Through his enigmatic good looks, established political career and deep love of arts – both as a patron and collector – Sassoon was able to establish a glamorous network and he hosted huge, star-studded gatherings.
In the words of Dr Giuseppe Albano, the current director of Trent House, speaking at the house’s grand re-opening this summer, “The sheer volume of celebrities who frequented the house regularly, has given us enough material for exhibitions for at least the next two decades.”
At the time, as Robert Boothby, a politician and close friend, noted in his diary “behind the whole social scene in England, and dominating it all was Sir Philip Sassoon, the greatest host I have ever known. He made his weekend parties unparalleled in the world. Nothing like them had been seen before, and surely, nothing remotely like them will ever be seen again.”
Noel Coward would play the piano, while guests marvelled at the flamingoes in the lake, or the abundant firework displays.
Charlie Chaplin, visiting between film schedules, could be found clinking glasses with Edward, Prince of Wales and Wallis Simpson, while the artist John Singer Sargent would be seen working on commissioned portraits and taking dips in the splendid outdoor pool.
So relaxed here was the ruling monarch of the day, Queen Mary of Teck, who was photographed enjoying the view of the gardens, that Sassoon can be seen almost slouching over the handles of her wheelchair.
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As the monarch was also Empress of India, perhaps they bonded over a love of the East. Oh to have eavesdropped! What we can be sure of is that discretion was the order of the day and Sassoon would have ensured Queen Mary and her shunned future daughter-in-law, Mrs Simpson, dined at the house on alternate weekends, with previous guest lists carefully hidden from sight.
The state rooms on the ground floor of the house, described as “sublimely beautiful” in Country Life in 1931, have been restored back to their heady Sassoon days. Artwork, furniture and ornaments belonging to the family have been retrieved from their other country homes and displayed in their original setting.
The Saloon was decorated in the 18th-century chinoiserie style, which was revived in the 1920s, and features a wallpaper copied by Sassoon from an 18th-century exhibit in the Victoria & Albert museum.
Bamboo furniture and Chinese porcelain may reflect the aristocratic British taste of the day, but one cannot help also seeing a nod to a family history enriched by oriental trade routes.
The drawing room at Trent Park House[Missing Credit]
Oriental flavour: an 18th-century Chinese lacquer chest[Missing Credit]
There is a certain congratulatory ostentation and gauche bling too. The showcases in the room reveal a gilt-bronze car mascot, in the form of a coiled hooded cobra, which was originally mounted on Philip’s 1933 Rolls Royce Phantom III Continental.
The mantelpieces bear Sassoon’s monogram “PS”, painted by artist Rex Whistler, a frequent guest to the house and the painter of many of its motifs and murals.
Like a few of the other visitors, Whistler was considered by some, including his own brother, to harbour antisemitic sympathies and it is hard not to wonder how this all played out chez Sassoon, especially as news of the Nazis’s barbarity in Europe began to filter through.
David Page, research consultant on the project, says: “There was an inherent antisemitism endemic at the time, but not to preclusion of respect. At that time, I am sure casual racism and antisemitism were not only tolerated but barely recognised as insulting.”
As Philip was unmarried and likely gay, his sister Sybil and cousin Hannah Gubbay, both socialites and sharp-eyed art collectors in their own right, played the role of female hostesses and the family group was often presented together.
Henry “Chips” Channon, the MP and diarist, referred to Gubbay as “old black Hannah” in his writing and to the group as a “mysterious dark brace of Semites”. Yet, he also penned a beautiful tribute to Philip after his death. And if imitation is the greatest form of flattery, there is a widespread assumption that Evelyn Waugh partly based the character of Anthony Blanche in Brideshead Revisited on Sassoon. As Page observes: “Both Sassoon and the character are wealthy, flamboyant aesthetes, a little haughty, gay, with slight lisps.
The setting is often Oxford, where Philip studied and lived, and the actor chosen to play Blanche in the film [Joseph Beattie] even looks like Sassoon.”
Although the dichotomy between the frivolous and serious political achievements seems marked in today’s politics, in this era everything was more fluid. It was likely his accomplished career as a senior politician and status as a high-ranking military man that enabled Philip to access such a glamorous circles.
Churchill and his wife Clementine, a very close friend to Sybil, were frequent visitors and the war leader completed some of his most accomplished paintings at the house.
It was said that aviation enthusiast Sassoon would even send his private plane to collect Clementine, landing on the airstrip in the house’s grounds.
But Sassoon was more than merely a wealthy socialite.
He worked as the right-hand man to Douglas Haig on the Flanders front line during the First World War and was instrumental in the formation of the RAF, serving twice as Under Secretary to Air in the interwar period. He went on to be a private parliamentary secretary to Prime Minister David Lloyd George and helped secure the post First World War peace settlement.
Page says: “Every single airstrip in the UK was signed off by Philip before the Second World War.
“He showed foresight in embracing this world, ensuring that the country was prepared for a war in the air. It is concerning to think about how the country would have coped, without them in place.”
Sassoon’s premature death of pneumonia at just 50 in 1939 shocked the family and the political and social elite.
Even the notoriously gruff Churchill, who over the years had described his friend as a “restaurant car” and a “loyal spaniel” when he was jealous of his high military positions, lamented deeply the absence of Sassoon’s expert counsel during the war.
At the time of his death, Sassoon held the highly prestigious and important position of First Commissioner of Works for the United Kingdom and one can only imagine how superb he would have been, with his fabulously tasteful eye, at rebuilding the country in a post-war era.
After his death, the house was requisitioned by the UK government and turned into a detention centre for high-ranking German prisoners of war. From 1939 to 1940, under the direction of Lieutenant Colonel Thomas Kendrick, the house was transformed into a state-of-the-art surveillance centre. The new museum tells this part of the house’s story.
The German generals were encouraged to relax in relative comfort, unaware the site was bugged through floorboards, light fittings, walls, paintings and even the ground’s rose bushes.
Nazi 'guest' General Hans-Jürgen von Arnim arriving at Trent Park in May 1943[Missing Credit]
The area where the listeners worked and slept in low-ceiling bunkers for months on end and how they used rudimentary listening equipment to record conversations has been brilliantly recreated.
Around 40 secret listeners were stationed here, many of them German-speaking Jewish refugees who were able to decipher the German officers’ technical language and regional accents.
These recorded conversations provided crucial intelligence about German air and sea military planning and revealed that the Nazis were developing ballistic missiles.
One of the listeners was the Czech grandfather of English actress Helen Lederer. Ernst Lederer is believed to have been a “stool pigeon” tasked with mingling among the German generals to tease out vital information. One can only imagine how difficult this role must have been given he had recently left behind a community now under murderous occupation.
Good listener: Ernst Lederer[Missing Credit]
Family link: Trent Park House trustee Helen LedererPA
It is a captivating story of immense courage and technical genius to rival that of the codebreakers at Bletchley Park, yet before this restoration, very little was known about it. Most of the listeners stayed totally silent about their mission all their lives. Helen Lederer, who is a trustee of the museum, hopes it will encourage other historians to come forward to document a comprehensive record of all that was achieved here.
One thing is clear, the contribution of these Jewish individuals to the security and quality of British life, both as part of an idyll of inter-war creativity and as part of a crucial war effort, is heartening to discover. I walked around with immense pride and awe.
As a plus, Trent Park House also has a beautifully presented and delicious cafe. Step back, Kenwood House, there is a new “must see” in north London. Send the Rolls-Royce, or the Gulf Stream, there’s a darling.
Trent Park House of Secrets is open Tuesday to Sunday 10am to 5pm; www.trentparkhouse.org.uk
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