In the Edwardian age, there were few who loved to break a record more than Dorothy Levitt. If she could go fast in something, she was first in line. Holder of the world’s first water speed record, the women’s world land speed record and… an author. On her downtime. A pioneer of female independence and of female motoring, Dorothy made a name for herself as one of the best racers of her day. She established the record for the longest drive achieved by a female driver and the press went wild, dubbing her, The Fastest Girl on Earth and, The Champion Lady Motorist of the World. She even found a spot of time to teach the Royals how to drive. And she was quite the character. She invented the rear view mirror and recommended women travelling alone to carry a handgun, recommending a Colt as the ‘ideal weapon for a lady’. But just who was the real woman behind the headlines? This is the story of Dorothy, a short life but one well lived…
Prologue
Dorothy Levitt, this most colourful of characters, was obviously a London girl, born into the dirt and grime of working class Hackney in the late 1800s, as the vast swathes of farmland were starting to be engulfed by the heavy industrial plants and cramped, dense housing, often squalid as the population boomed and people piled on top of other people, desperate for space and somewhere to live. Few were well off and most had to have one’s wits about them. Born into this on January 5th, 1882 was, as she was then, Elizabeth Levi. The daughter of a prosperous jeweller, tea dealer and Commission Agent of Colvestone Crescent, Elizabeth could be considered one of the lucky few. But conditions and life itself was hard. Her sister Lilly was only one was she died.
From an early age, Elizabeth was a keen horse rider, describing negotiating jumps in a steeplechase as ‘easier than retaining a seat in car being driven at speed’. Not much other than this is known of her early life. What we do know is that by 1902, she was working as a secretary at the Napier & Son works in Vine Street, Lambeth, just yards away from Piccadilly Circus. This was what Elizabeth loved best of all. Her cars. Napier & Son was an engineering company specialising in luxury cars, right at the start of the British motor industry. They wanted to race cars, as did Elizabeth, but back then, such a notion was scandalous. Racing cars on our roads? How dare you entertain such a frightful notion!
Enter the wonderfully named Selwyn Edge, a businessman, racing driver, cyclist and, most crucially, record-breaker. Selwyn and Elizabeth hit it off straight away. They spoke the same language when it came to their love of automobiles. Napier cars were driven by Selwyn in motor races on private land and he went on to win the incredibly named 1902 Gordon Bennett Cup, a race from Paris to Austria. Here he noticed Camille du Gast, her participation in the race drawing the eyes of the media from around the world. And Selwyn had an idea. That secretary? “A beautiful secretary with long legs and eyes like pools,” he said of her. At once, he promoted her to become his personal assistant. This brought about quite a bit of publicity for the company. But far from being a pervy boss with his eyes on only one thing, Selwyn noticed Elizabeth’s ‘spirit of motoring’ and from then on, he would be by her side. Providing her cars, training and promoting the hell out of her. He saw right then, at the start, something in Elizabeth. Something that told him that she was something else. Something extraordinary.
Yes, okay, Elizabeth did become his mistress, but that was inevitable…
The Turn of the Century
At the dawn of the 20th century, the austere Victorian times were gone and in was the dynamic and fresh Edwardian age, a radical shift in culture that happened overnight, much in part to the changes in how we moved. Mass transportation was starting to take off as were men in their racing cars. Women driving was rare and women racing was practically unheard of. At Napier, Elizabeth was finding herself drawn ever more to the world of racing. Slight issue. She couldn’t actually drive. And so Leslie Callingham, a young salesman who also worked at Napier, taught her. He didn’t offer, he was told to on his only day off, which I’m sure pleased him immensely…
Elizabeth was a quick learner, which was good for Leslie because he really, really hated her. I mean, it was intense how much he hated her. And why? Yes, sadly, he didn’t want to teach a woman to drive. But Selwyn insisted. He wanted Elizabeth to test Napier’s cars. They were entered into official trials to accumulate performance for buyers, but only the company driver and an official were permitted in the vehicles. The driver was also expected to undertake any mechanical works so Selwyn set to work teaching Elizabeth about all the mechanics of their cars. And once more, she picked it up very quickly. Her interest and passion for cars just grew and grew. Selwyn even arranged a six-month apprenticeship for Elizabeth with a French automobile maker in Paris, where she learned everything there was to know about building and driving cars. On her return to London, to get women away from men like Leslie, she took it upon herself to teach women how to drive because, quelle surprise, not many men wanted to and not many women could. It’s said that Elizabeth even taught Queen Alexandra to drive and, for a time, even American female tourists. In only a short space of time, Elizabeth had achieved so much.
On her return, she brought back with her Dodo, a rather excitable Pomeranian dog that was gifted to her from her friend Mademoiselle Marie Cornelle. One problem, and yes, it’s unforgivable, is that Elizabeth wasn’t allowed to bring the dog into the UK so she was forced to hide the dog in her glovebox. But the dog wouldn’t shut up. So, yeah, Elizabeth… kinda… drugged the dog and off to sleep he went. He was fine. Clearly, it was a very different time. And for the rest of his long life, he became Elizabeth’s trusty companion. He was often found curled up on her passenger seat under her coat. Not drugged, thankfully.
Despite this, Elizabeth had become a highly respected women, no thanks in part to how attractive she was, but make no bones about it, what defined her was her love and knowledge of cars. She was alluring and petite, demure in her manner with a deeply engaging personality. She had become Elizabeth Levitt when she turned 18 as her Jewish father thought it best to Anglicise the family name for sadly obvious reasons. She was regularly in the gossip columns and became an accomplished horsewoman, racing on her days off. She also loved fishing and claimed significant expertise when it came to playing roulette. “One day,” she said, “I want to break the bank at Monte Carlo!”
Elizabeth was well loved and her luncheon parties well attended. She was often seen at the races, especially at Ascot, loving to put a bet on now and again. She was highly fashionable and very competitive, her spirit of adventure shining through. But what Elizabeth wanted to do more than anything else was race cars. And she had natural ability. A hell of a lot of it. On July 4th, 1903, she was finally allowed to race. And on that day, she won her class at the Southport Speed Trials driving a wonderfully named 12 horsepower Gladiator. The newspapers could not believe it. Her name was in every one of them the next day, it really was. ‘A Woman Behind the Wheel!’ wrote one headline. And the sub-headline? ‘And a Working Secretary, Too!’ Yes. Well, Elizabeth didn’t care. Her response to that kind of attention was a simple, “Yeah, and?”
She was encouraged by all this and Selwyn was immensely proud of his young protégé who was still only 22. Selwyn never stopped pushing her. He wanted her to improve and keep going on and on. She had become the first British woman to take part in a speed competition and in doing so, she had shattered the glass ceiling. The people of Britain were astonished by what she had done. At this time, women interested in cars and mechanics were seen as masculine and many female racing drivers at the time were forced to wear masks and hats to disguise their gender. Not so for Elizabeth. She raced in flattering feminine outfits with stylish hats and veils. To make a point. I’m a woman, deal with it…
It wasn’t overly practical, sure, but she had made her point. And soon, the media were all over her.
The Star of the Sea, Too
The problem was that whereas male racing drivers were praised, female racing drivers were scrutinised. Elizabeth was dubbed in the papers an ‘independent, privileged, bachelor girl, living with friends in the West End of London and waited on by servants.’ Rarely did they mention what she’d actually achieved. She was dubbed a ‘scorcher’, which in Edwardian times was a slang term for a motorist who delighted in exceeding the speed limit and was often in trouble with the police because of it. And yes, Elizabeth was indeed arrested. On many occasions.
The first was on November 6th, 1903. She was summoned to appear at Marlborough Street Assizes for exceeding the speed limit… in Hyde Park. One officer said she drove at a ‘terrific pace’ and when stopped, she said she would ‘like to drive over every policeman and wished she had run over the sergeant and killed him.’ It’s hard to convey, but she was being sarcastic. They didn’t take kindly even to sarcastic threats and, as such, she was fined £5 with costs of two shillings. That’s £235 in today’s money. With £8 of costs. Probably a replacement policeman’s hat she probably run over…
She made her money back later that year when she and her friend Hena were hit by a post office van, receiving £35 in compensation. That’s nearly £3,000 in today’s money, only weeks after her court appearance. The police were said to be less than happy. She sounds a bit cheeky, doesn’t she? But in a sweet and endearing way. When you remember she was being sarcastic. She had her eyes on a different prize. In that year, she won the inaugural British International Harmsworth Trophy for motorboats, defeating the French. Yes! That’s how you win over the British! Beat the French!
It was here she set the world’s first Water Speed Record when she hit 19.3 miles-per-hour or 31.1 kilometres-per-hour in a 40 foot or 12 metre steel-hulled, 75 horsepower Napier speedboat. Selwyn owned the boat and, as such, his name is on the trophy, not Elizabeth’s name. What! This is an outrage! I oughta run you over in my boat. She won more and more boat races that year, including one that landed her $1,750 in prize money. Try $50,000 in today’s money. She ended her 1903 quite rich, it seems. In just that year, in today’s money, she earned herself £45,000. She was rich!
She won the Championship of the Seas and then came her success in motor racing. The medals and money were piling up. And for Elizabeth, now going by the name Dorothy, things kept getting better and better. She often mixed at the highest social events, her appearances often reported in The Times. Her moment in the Sun came in 1905 when she took the record for the ‘longest drive achieved by a lady driver’. She drove an eight horsepower De Dion-Bouton from London to Liverpool and back in two days, without the aid of a mechanic. Although she did have Dodo by her side, as she did whenever she raced. Poor thing. Oh, she also had her gun with her. She wanted people to know that although she was a woman on her own, if you pissed her off, she was armed. And very dangerous.
Wonderfully, she departed London from the De-Dion showroom, taking her passed the courthouse that did her for speeding (ha) at 7:00am, reaching Coventry at 11:36. She reached the Adelphi Hotel in Liverpool at 6:10pm (still there today), a journey of 205 miles or 330 kilometres. It took her just over 11 hours. She averaged 20 miles-per-hour, some 60 years before the UK got its first speed limit. Later that year, she won a Non-Stop Certificate at the Scottish Trials driving the same car over the rough and hilly roads of the Highlands. Dorothy, as she now was, had her fair share of records, but she had been bitten by the bug. And she wanted more.
The Record Setter
In 1905, a very busy year for Dorothy, she set her first Ladies World Speed record whilst competing at the inaugural Brighton Speed Trial. When it came to breaking records, it wasn’t a problem for Dorothy. And Dodo. And that gun. Yes, she even raced with it. Imagine that nowadays… ha! Oh, what a mad person she was. She drove an 80 horsepower Napier at a speed of 79.75 miles-per-hour, winning her class. And the Brighton Sweepstakes. Oh, and the Autocar Challenge Trophy. She was so successful and skilful she was offered a works drive in a French Mors in the inaugural RAC Tourist Trophy Race on the Isle of Man, but Selwyn prevented her from racing. If it’s not Napier, I will not allow it, he said. Ironically, the event was won by a man named, and this is true, Mr. J. Napier. HA! Oh, that is amazing!
In 1906, at the Blackpool Speed Trial, she broke her own record of 1905 and achieved a speed of 90.88 miles-per-hour or 146.26 kilometres-per-hour over a distance of one kilometre, driving a 100 horsepower car, the Napier K5. The next day, the headlines were slightly better. ‘The Fastest Girl on Earth’ and ‘Champion Lady Motorist of the World’. Well, at least they weren’t writing about her sex life, for a change. She wrote in her diary:
‘Broke my own record and created new world’s record for women at Blackpool. Ninety horse-power six cylinder Napier racing car. Drove at rate of 91 miles an hour. Had near escape as front part of bonnet worked loose and, had I not pulled up in time, might have blown back and beheaded me. Was presented with cup by the Blackpool Automobile Club and also a cup by S.F. Edge, Limited.’
Almost beheaded her? She was a wonderful lunatic. And most importantly, a wonderful record breaker. She never stopped racing. In that year, she raced at the Shelsey Walsh Hill Climb but finished sixth, blaming her car for being a bit crap. However, in the Open Class, she set ANOTHER record in a 50 horsepower Napier, making the climb in 92.4 seconds, 12 seconds faster than the male winner and THREE MINUTES faster than the previous women’s best. GOOD GOD! She was unstoppable!
‘Wonderful. One can hardly describe one’s sensations. There is a feeling of flying through space. I never think of the danger. That sort of thing won’t do. But I know it is omnipresent. The slightest touch of the hand and the car swerves, and swerves are usually fatal. But I am a good gambler and always willing to take the chance. In going that pace, the hardest thing is to keep in the car. Half the time the wheels don’t touch the ground at all, and when they do touch, you must be prepared to take the shock and lurch, else out you will go.’
Despite all her success, for all she had done for women in motorsport, she was still facing challenges because of her gender. In 1907, she applied to race at the newly opened Brooklands Circuit, but they wouldn’t take her. No women, please. She was never left despondent for very long, however. When an obstacle presented itself, she found something else to do. Like racing in Europe. Which is just what she did. Brooklands wouldn’t take her? No problem. She entered races in France and Germany. And she won them all.
I am missing out so many races that she won because there are just too many. Honestly, she was formidable. In one year, she won a Gold Medal at the Herkomer Trophy Race in Germany, finishing fourth out of 172 competitors but first of all the women. And her car had fewer horsepower than all the other cars. That is a wonderful achievement. She kept winning. Dozens and dozens of times, she just kept winning. Europe was good to her.
And, after conquering the land and the sea, she set her sights on the sky…
The Flying Wonder
In 1909, after having won so many land and sea races I simply lost count, Dorothy attempted to get a pilot’s licence. She attended the Hubert Latham School of Aviation at Châlons Camp Mourmelon-le-Grand in France. She was there with Marie Marvingt, who I’ve wrote about before, and Raymonde de Laroche. Dorothy became a member of The Aero Club of the United Kingdom in the January of 1910. She never got her licence, but spoke extensively about her experiences trying to learn how to fly. Because she never qualified, she never raced planes, but I think it speaks a lot of her character that she was never complacent. She always wanted to push herself. When the sea races came to an end, she took up car racing. And when she fancied it, she tried to take to the skies. Whilst it didn’t pan out, you can’t fault her endeavour…
So what did she do instead? She became an author. She published ‘The Woman and the Car: A Chatty Little Hand Book for Women Who Motor or Want to Motor’, based on a newspaper column she had in The Graphic. She also started giving lectures, encouraging women to take up motoring. “I am constantly asked by some astonished people, ‘Do you really understand all the horrid machinery of a motor and could you mend it if it broke down?’ The details of an engine may sound complicated and look ‘horrid’, but an engine is easily mastered.”
Her book contained many tips. One was to carry a ladies hand mirror to ‘occasionally hold up to see what is behind you’. Yes, she invented the rear-view mirror. I mean, is there anything she DIDN’T do? Manufacturers didn’t start putting rear-view mirrors into cars until several years later. She loved to write. She wrote many articles aiming to dispel the myths that women were ‘not strong enough to get behind the wheel’ and that it was ‘possible to retain their femininity as well as learning to be technologically competent’. She was a feminist icon of her age. And the book? It sold millions of copies. It was met with rave reviews. The women of 1914 Britain adored her. She was their voice. And if anyone tried to silence her, there would be hell on…
She wrote instruction manuals FOR women on how to service their cars. She hired a photographer so she could ‘pose’ for the camera to show how to access various parts of a car and how to maintain it. She was forward thinking. She even provided tips on a dress code for female drivers, both for enclosed and open-air cars. ‘Neatness and comfort are essential’, she wrote. She recommended keeping items spare in the glovebox, such as an extra handkerchief, face powder, a spare face veil, extra pins for hair and clothes, CHOCOLATE (I think I’m in love) and, of course, a gun.
All was going well for Dorothy, but over the 1910s, she slowly vanished from the public eye. She became reclusive most likely because of a debilitating illness. Her parents had tried to arrange a marriage for her but she absconded in horror and never married or had children. For all her fame, in the 1910s, she managed to vanish from the public eye. And soon, tragedy would strike…
Epilogue
Her meteoric rise to prominence before abruptly vanishing from public engagements was noticeable because of her absence. After 1910, not much is known of her life. On May 17th, 1922, she was found dead in her apartment at 50 Upper Baker Street in Marylebone, a building that’s now long gone. Her death certificate named her as Dorothy Elizabeth Levi, unmarried, her cause of death ‘misadventure’. In England, that’s a verdict by a coroner indicating that a death was due to an accident not due to a crime or negligence. She suffered morphine poisoning whilst suffering from heart disease and an attack of the measles. It was an accident. She simply took too much or perhaps took too much in too short a space of time. But it was an accident. And it claimed her life at just 40 years of age.
She wasn’t overly rich when she died, her estate valued at £224, two shillings and five pence, or around £12,300 in today’s money. She died so tragically young but what a life and what an amazing character, right? She was such an inspiration for so many women, shattering that glass ceiling with such scant regard for what anyone thought of her. Even today, many female racing drivers cite her as the reason they got into racing. I only listed a few of her records but she broke hundreds of them. She is, without a question of doubt, one of the greatest racing drivers the world has ever seen, with one of the most insanely wonderful personalities you’re ever likely to find. She was the life of the party. The spirit of women’s motoring in the Edwardian age.
She raced cars, boats and gave a go at planes, setting record after record. She did all she could and then some for female motorists. She stepped out of Selwyn’s shadow with disgraceful grace, going her own way in life with a wonderful disregard for authority, at one point, making the effort to speed passed the very courthouse where she was done for speeding, probably with a two finger salute. Some would argue that one shouldn’t praise such hellraisers, but on the other hand, she was a pioneer and her name rightly belongs in the history books. And she never abandoned her femininity as so many female racing drivers of her day did, she embraced it and used it as her biggest source of strength. And that is the true definition of feminism.
‘Our wretched species is so made that those who walk on the well-trodden path always throw stones at those who are showing a new road.’ François-Marie ‘Voltaire’ Arouet.
Toodle-Pip :}{:
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