Living Soil, Living Art: Eve Balfour, Her Arab Mare Bendira, and New Bells Farm

By Tobi Lopez Taylor

This post is part of the ongoing Crabbet Chronicles series, which also includes Lady Anne Blunt’s Stradivarius and Wilfrid Blunt’s meeting with Lawrence of Arabia.

In 2018, Prince Charles sent his “warmest congratulations” to the UK’s Arab Horse Society (AHS) on its hundredth anniversary, writing, “As the proud owner of four very beautiful Arabian horses, I have come to appreciate this particularly special breed....For one hundred years The Arab Horse Society has devoted itself to promoting interest in Arabian horses in the United Kingdom.” The AHS’s first president was Wilfrid Scawen Blunt, who, with his wife Lady Anne Blunt, established the world-renowned Crabbet Stud in Sussex.

Eve Balfour, “the Compost Queen,” and her draft horses (from Brander 2003).

The previous year, Prince Charles had celebrated the seventieth anniversary of the Soil Association, “the UK’s leading food and farming charity, and organic certification body,” whose motto is “healthy soil, healthy people, healthy planet.” While at the association’s annual luncheon, he lamented the fact that he had never met its founder, Lady Eve Balfour, OBE (1898–1990), nicknamed “the Compost Queen” for her efforts to inculcate organic farming in the UK. In addition to obtaining a degree in agriculture (at a time when few women were college graduates) and writing the literally groundbreaking book The Living Soil, Eve was an early member of the AHS and owned a mare named Bendira—a daughter of the Blunts’ famous stallion Mesaoud, whom they had imported from Egypt to their Crabbet Stud in 1891.

Eve Balfour in the 1940s (photo credit: Wikipedia).

Born in 1898, Eve was the niece of Arthur James Balfour, who later became British prime minister; she called him “Nunkie.” Her mother was the daughter of a viceroy of India, a granddaughter of prolific author Edward Bulwer-Lytton (of “It was a dark and stormy night” fame), and a sister of Neville Lytton, third Earl of Lytton, who was an artist, an Olympic medalist, and son-in-law of the Blunts. His wife, Judith Blunt-Lytton, is known to Arabian horse fanciers as the breeder and author Lady Wentworth.

Drawing of Eve by her uncle, Neville Lytton (from Brander 2003).

From a young age, Eve knew she wanted to be a farmer. She was fortunate to be born into an eccentric, passionate family. A number of her Balfour relations were early members of the Society for Psychical Research (SPR) (her uncle by marriage, Henry Sidgwick, was the SPR’s first president), and her aunt, Constance Lytton, was a suffragette who was jailed four times. As Eve’s biographer noted in 2003, “It must have required a strong personality and an equally strong voice to hold one’s own in the often animated family discussion….Nor were such discussions restricted to the male side of the family.”

Fishers Hill, Eve’s childhood home (photo credit: The Lutyens Trust). 

The house in which Eve grew up—Fishers Hill, in Surrey—had been designed by the well-known architect, Sir Edwin Lutyens, whose wife, Lady Emily (Lytton)Lutyens, was Eve’s aunt. (Lady Emily became a Theosophist and went on to become a follower of Krishnamurti.) The architect’s biographer (and descendant), Jane Ridley, wrote that Eve’s mother, Betty, “was unworldly and helpless in practical matters. She shocked [Lutyens] by travelling in dirty third-class carriages with her children, none of whom ‘looked as if any care, thought or trouble was taken with their appearance, either clothes or body.’ For a family of intelligent, tomboyish, and rather neglected girls, Fishers Hill was a paradise; it [was] ideally suited to games and outdoor theatricals. Betty’s grandchild Anne Balfour remembered it as a magical house, with the feel of Kipling and Puck of Pook’s Hill.”

The teenage Eve working  with a pony (from Brander 2003).

As a youngster, Eve was often on horseback, and had numerous cats, dogs, and other animals. She became a vegetarian at a young age and also took a great interest in plant growth, encouraged by her mother and her aunt, both excellent gardeners. Whereas in a typical family of her socioeconomic class, she would have been expected to “marry well” and raise children,  her biographer wrote that it was “an example of the advanced approach to parenthood of both her mother and her father that when she announced her wish to become a farmer…she was promptly entered for the Agriculture Department of Reading University College.”

Eve’s biographer also recounted that while Eve was in college, she “was closely in touch with her Lytton relations at Crabbet Park. Judith Wentworth, her [aunt by marriage], was to become the noted Arab horse breeder. Eve, of course was greatly interested in her work and enjoyed vising her. She even contemplated leasing one of the Crabbet Park farms in Sussex and went as far as discussing the possibility with Judith. At this stage her inclinations were strongly towards eventually taking a farm in Sussex.”

However, after Eve’s graduation, she and her sister Mary instead found a 157-acre, dilapidated farm in Suffolk named New Bells. There, the two of them and an assortment of friends, relatives, and, eventually, employees, worked twelve-hours days in an attempt to make New Bells a profitable concern. Her biographer noted, “Despite the fact that there was no running water or electricity, and sanitation was primitive in the extreme, everyone seems to have enjoyed themselves in this youthful household and contributed their assistance to the farm, whether feeding pigs, herding sheep, milking, or harvesting.” Eve’s cousin Betty Lutyens remembered her first visit to New Bells, “when she was greeted at the door by Eve...in breeches and a red spotted handkerchief.”

In 1939, after working at New Bells for two decades, Eve and her associates began the well-known Haughley Experiment at New Bells and a nearby farm. This study compared organic and chemically fertilized farming methods. As Kevin Desmond wrote, “Balfour published the initial results of her experiment in a book called The Living Soil where she presented the case for an alternative, more sustainable approach to agriculture. Its influence was such that, in 1946, Balfour co-founded and became first president of the Soil Association. While continuing the Haughley [E]xperiment for the next 25 years, the Association has developed into an international organization pioneered by Balfour. [She] continued to farm, write and lecture for the rest of her life.”

Eve’s “Lytton relations” at Crabbet Stud had sold her the well-bred Arabian mare, Bendira, around 1909. Bendira’s sire, the aforementioned Mesaoud, was one of the world’s most influential stallions, appearing (often multiple times) in the pedigrees of upwards of 90 percent of today’s Arabians.

Mesaoud (Aziz x Yamamah III).

Bendira’s dam, *Bushra, was bred by the Blunts. She stood only 14 hands. Arabian historian Carol Mulder noted that though she was a bit “long and low” through the body, in some photos “she could look very beautiful.” *Bushra was purchased by Charles Husted and imported to the US in 1900. Of her nine foals, only *Ibn Mahruss and Sira have living descendants.

*Bushra (Azrek x Bozra) (from Mulder 1991).

Bendira made a cameo appearance in the journals of Lady Anne Blunt, who recorded on June 3, 1903 that Prince Scherbatoff had come to tour Crabbet Stud and that her husband “took the Prince in the road cart with Bendira to see the mares and fillies….” Some years earlier, Scherbatoff and his brother-in-law Count Stroganov had established the Stroganov Stud near Tersk, in the northern Caucasus, where they bred Arabians. In 1899, the two men had visited Crabbet and had seen Bendira’s sire Mesaoud. In their book on Arabians, published in Russia the following year, Scherbatoff and Stroganov wrote that Mesaoud was “Crabbet Park’s number-one sire. He is a splendid specimen of a first-class Arabian and has won many prizes in England.” In 1903, Scherbatoff came back to Crabbet to look for more horses. Within weeks of Scherbatoff’s ride with Wilfrid Blunt driving Bendira, Mesaoud was purchased by a Polish breeder, Wladislaw Klineiwski, and appears to have changed hands again rather quickly, as he soon took up residence at the Stroganov Stud.

*Berk (from Covey 1982).

Bendira was closely related to the Crabbet-bred stallion *Berk, whose descendants often had excellent movement. *Berk was by Seyal, a son of Mesaoud, and out of Bukra, a three-quarter sister to Bendira’s dam *Bushra. (I wrote about *Berk’s daughter Tahdik and granddaughter Santa Fe, maternal ancestors of *Marwan Al Shaqab, for  Arabian Horse Life Magazine in 2019.)

Bendira was registered initially in the UK’s General Studbook (GSB). In 1906, it was noted that she had been bred to Narkise but came up barren. The 1909 GSB recorded the birth of Bendira’s “only produce to live,” a filly named Beneyeh (by Feysul)—suggesting that if Bendira had previous offspring, it or they had died before registration. Beneyah herself was never assigned a registration number, which presumably means that she did not survive for very long. Bendira was not re-bred in 1908, and after that was sold to Eve.

In 1920, a periodical called The Near East featured the following notice: “A council meeting of the Arab Horse Society was recently held at the Grosvenor Hotel, S.W., where entries for the Stud Book Vol. II and for the Arab-bred Register were accepted.” “Miss Eve B. Balfour, of New Bells Farm,” was listed as one of the new members, and Bendira, now twenty years old, was given AHS registration number 172. She was described as a chestnut mare with a blaze and three white socks, her color and markings similar to those of her sire.

Eve did do some horse breeding at New Bells, but her biographer, Michael Brander (Eve’s nephew by marriage), did not discuss about this aspect of her farming in any detail, other than to reproduce a letter from Eve’s mother in which she wrote that “the horse dealer who brought the stallion to Eve’s mares nearly had a fit when he found the New Bells farmer was a young girl. He’ll get accustomed to that....” Whether Bendira may have produced some part-Arabian foals for Eve is unknown, though possible, since one of the reasons for establishing the AHS was “to encourage the re-introduction of Arab blood into English Light Horse breeding.”

The same letter from Eve’s mother also mentioned seeing Eve’s fellow farmer, her sister Mary, driving a pony named Betty who “just gets in between the shafts and goes a jolly pace.” Is it possible that the “pony” Betty was actually Bendira, an experienced driving mare who could have inherited her dam’s small size? We likely will never know, but it’s charming to imagine Bendira, a flashy chestnut daughter of the great Mesaoud, trotting along at “a jolly pace” at New Bells Farm.

A Robe, a Hovercraft, and Lawrence of Arabia: The Curious Connections between Alec Guinness, Sydney Cockerell, and Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

By Tobi Lopez Taylor

This post is part of the ongoing Crabbet Chronicles series, which also includes Lady Anne Blunt’s Stradivarius and the Crabbet-bred mare owned by Eve Balfour. 

Wilfrid Blunt knew, was related to, had affairs with, and/or wrote about everybody who was anybody in England from the mid-1800s to the 1920s. His “Secret Diaries,” which were sealed for fifty years after his death in 1922, “mixed up scandalous gossip with serious commentary,” according to his biographer Elizabeth Longford. Blunt’s observations have provided many a historian with a useful perspective. Peter de Mendelssohn, Winston Churchill’s biographer, called Blunt “a shrewd observer of men and a faithful and reliable recorder of their opinions.”

Blunt and one of his Arabian horses. Etching by Tristram Ellis, 1883. 

National Portrait Gallery. NPG D1079

Blunt, who wrote verse prodigiously, believed that he would be known to posterity as a poet. However, the first word about him in the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography is “Hedonist,” followed by “poet,” then “breeder of Arabian horses.” (His wife’s grandfather, Lord Byron, was the real poet in the family.) As Oscar Wilde wrote about minor poets, like Blunt, “they are never quoted.”  Blunt’s poems didn’t even make it into the Cambridge Book of Lesser Poets—whose compiler had excluded him only due to the “magnitude” of his output. During his lifetime, Blunt’s work did have its admirers, including Yeats, who remarked (incorrectly) that “certain sonnets, lyrics, stanzas of his were permanent in our literature,” and Pound, who praised Blunt’s double sonnet “For Esther” (a pseudonym for Catherine Walters, known as Skittles, considered “one of the last great courtesans of Victorian London,” linked not only to Blunt but also to King Edward VII and Napoleon III).

Just as Blunt would be disappointed about posterity’s view of his poetry, it’s likely that Academy Award–winning actor Sir Alec Guinness would be less than thrilled to learn that he is now best remembered by people under forty for originating the role of Obi-Wan Kenobi in the Star Wars franchise—whose dialogue he dismissed as “rubbish.”

Although Guinness never met Blunt, who died when Alec was a mere seven years old, they do share a curious connection through a robe belonging to Sir Sydney Cockerell, as discussed in Guinness’s memoir, Blessings in Disguise.

This robe was not, however, Guinness’s most famous robe, the one that his role as Obi-Wan Kenobi required him to wear (copies of which are worn by millions of kids annually on Halloween). After shooting ended on Star Wars, that robe, and other costumes from the film, went into storage at Angels and Bermans, a costume company in London. “The [robe] was thrown in with hundreds of monks’ robes and later rented out to customers, also being worn by an extra in the 1999 film The Mummy…Company boss Tim Angel said the [robe]was only discovered during a routine stock check.”    In 2007, the robe was sold for 54,000 pounds (about $71,000).

Alec Guinness as Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Seventeen years before the release of Star Wars, Guinness had the opportunity to wear yet another robe when he portrayed T. E. Lawrence—Lawrence of Arabia—on the London stage in Terence Rattigan’s Ross. As blogger Groggy Dundee notes, “Ross began as a film project for the Rank Organization. In 1955, producer Anatole de Grunwald commissioned Rattigan to pen a screenplay based on Basil Liddell Hart’s T. E. Lawrence in Arabia and After (1934). The movie was to be shot in Iraq, ruled by the descendants of Lawrence’s ally Emir Feisal, with Anthony Asquith directing and Dirk Bogarde as Lawrence. However, in July 1958 Iraqi army officers overthrew Iraq’s King Feisal II and the project was scrapped.” (I can’t help but note here that Asquith’s mother, the former Margot Tennant, had been one of Blunt’s many lovers.) Rattigan then reworked the screenplay into a play. The following year, the playwright was asked to turn it back into a screenplay, but by then, David Lean’s film Lawrence of Arabia was already in production, with Guinness–again wearing a robe—playing Prince Faisal opposite Peter O’Toole’s Lawrence.

Alec Guinness as T. E. Lawrence.

In the film, which a contemporary reviewer gave an “A” for entertainment and a “C-“ for historical accuracy, Lieutenant T. E. Lawrence, a former archaeologist, is sent by the British army to Arabia to find Prince Faisal. Lawrence’s goal in Arabia, like Byron’s in Greece, was to help free the locals from their oppressors—in this case, the Turks. Over the years, historians’ perspectives have shifted on Lawrence’s legacy; he is known variously as a hero, a poseur, a cultural appropriator, and even a traitor.

Alec Guinness as Prince Faisal.

For example, here is Isabella Hammad, writing earlier this year in the Paris Review:

I am familiar with the legend of T. E. Lawrence—fluent Arabist, British hero of the Arab Revolt of 1916, troubled lover of the Arab peoples—as well as with the ways the Jordanian tourism industry has capitalized on this legend. Nevertheless, I am still surprised when I hear someone mention him with admiration. The image of Lawrence as an adventuring Orientalist, galloping through the desert in flowing robes at the head of a Bedouin army, has endured in the imaginations of the British and American publics at the expense, arguably, of an accurate understanding of Lawrence’s role in the events of the First World War and its aftermath. Despite the fact that, to date, Lawrence has been the subject of nearly fifty biographies and scores of critical works, it is the image of Lawrence in the film Lawrence of Arabia, starring Peter O’Toole and a heavily made-up Alec Guinness as the Arab Prince Faisal, that has stuck.

After his experiences in Arabia, Lawrence greatly wanted to meet Blunt, who, many years earlier, had traveled widely with his wife Lady Anne (and on her dime) in the Middle East. He was a fierce anti-Colonialist, sympathetic to Irish, Indian, and Egyptian nationalism. In 1888, Blunt’s support of Irish Home Rule landed him in Galway and Kilmainham  prisons for two months. (After Blunt published a book of poems about his prison experience, his acquaintance Oscar Wilde, years away from his own stint in jail owing to his relationship with Blunt’s cousin Lord Alfred Douglas, wrote, “prison has had an admirable effect on Mr. Wilfrid Blunt as a poet.”) Blunt also had some political influence over both Randolph Churchill and his son Winston. As A. Warren Dockter writes in “The Influence of a Poet: Wilfrid S. Blunt and the Churchills,” “Where Lord Randolph took Blunt’s anti-imperialism with a grain of salt, Winston accepted him as a more serious figure.”

It was the younger Churchill who facilitated Lawrence’s pilgrimage to Blunt’s Sussex home; Lawrence later proclaimed the elderly Blunt a prophet. Blunt was equally taken with Lawrence, writing in his diary that Lawrence had embarked on “an adventure of the heroic kind [in the Middle East], carrying out very exactly the old one I had dreamed of attempting myself in 1880.”

A couple of decades before he met Lawrence, Blunt hired a secretary, Sydney Cockerell—later the director of the Fitzwilliam Museum at Cambridge University—who had previously been employed by designer William Morris (with whose wife, Janey, Blunt had an affair). Cockerell and Lawrence later became friends and correspondents, in part because of their mutual interest in the Middle East. The Fitzwilliam Museum’s website notes that:

Blunt and Lady Anne, both self-taught Arabists, nurtured Cockerell's interest in the history, literature and arts of the East. They offered him a first-hand experience of the Orient. During his visits to their house [Sheykh Obeyd] near Cairo he explored the region's rich culture, travelling to Karnak, Thebes, Memphis, Beirut, Baalbeck, and Damascus, camping with Bedouins in the desert, and surviving a shipwreck on the way to Mount Sinai in 1900. Cockerell swore to keep his beard for the rest of his life. He kept his Arab robes too and wore them at a Fancy Dress Ball at the Cambridge Guildhall in 1919.

Sir Sydney Cockerell and friend.

 Blunt and Lawrence were both dead by the time Guinness met Cockerell on a “hot Sunday in March 1939 [that] was heavy with the unmistakeably dusty, peppery and aromatic smell of Egypt and the Near East which can make even drab places seem glamorous.”  Despite a large disparity in their ages, they instantly took a liking to one another. Indeed, many years later, when Guinness was studying for the role of Lawrence in Ross, he visited Cockerell to, as he put it, “pick at Sydney’s memories.” According to Guinness, Cockerell remembered Lawrence as a “terrible fibber,” but Sydney’s companion, Miss Dorothy Hawksley, painted a more comprehensive picture:

I came in here one day and saw a small man, dressed as an airman looking out of the window. His back was turned to me. I wondered why Sydney should be talking to such a very undistinguished little man. Then, just as if he could read my thoughts, the little man turned round and stared at me. I was stupefied; I don’t think I have ever encountered such a strong personality. I didn’t know who he was, of course, until introduced. He rather gave me the creeps. 

Cockerell’s young son Christopher, who later became an inventor, had an opportunity to meet many famous men of letters who came to see his father. However, “Sydney was very disappointed when Christopher showed very little interest in literature, public affairs and other aesthetic pursuits of such visitors. It was only when T. E. Lawrence stayed at their home that he showed an interest—this was in Lawrence’s 1000 cc Brough Superior motorcycle.” Lawrence owned eight of these motorcycles, one of which he crashed when he swerved to avoid two bicyclists. He died from his injuries six days after the accident, in May 1935.

T. E. Lawrence on one of his Brough Superior motorcycles.

It was through Cockerell that Guinness acquired the robe that connected him to Blunt. Guinness recalled, “Sydney gave me a coarse, striped robe which he had bought from a Bedouin when he and Wilfrid Scawen Blunt had been wrecked off the coast of Sinai in 1900. He used it as a dressing-grown later in life; lent it to Lawrence who in turn handed it on to [George Bernard Shaw]. Eventually it found its way back to Sydney, and shortly after it came into my possession I handed it over to Clouds Hill, T. E.’s hideaway cottage in Dorset, as a memento.”

Today, Clouds Hill is a British heritage site. Among Lawrence’s effects there, in addition to the “coarse, striped robe,” is a copy of Blunt’s In Vinculis — a volume containing the Irish prison poems that Wilde admired.

And as for Sydney Cockerell’s concern about his son’s lack of culture, Christopher Cockerell turned out just fine. Almost two decades before the landspeeder in Star Wars enchanted young moviegoers, Christopher, who was more taken with Lawrence’s motorcycle than with Lawrence himself, invented the Hovercraft, which employs a cushion of air to stay aloft above water or ground. Hovercrafts are “now used throughout the world as specialised transports in disaster relief, coastguard, military and survey and applications, as well as for sport or passenger service.” As writer Amy Cowen noted, “Remember Luke’s landspeeder in the original Star Wars trilogy? Remember the way it skimmed across Tatooine’s surface of sand as he went in search of R2-D2 and found Obi-Wan? While not necessarily a textbook example of hovercraft technology, the story set in a “galaxy far, far away” did a memorable job in 1977 of showing the potential—and alluring ‘glide’—of an air-cushion vehicle.”

Like his father, Christopher Cockerell received a knighthood, though the son’s was “for services to engineering,” something the elder Cockerell likely never expected of the son he once derided for being “no better than a garage hand.”