130“In that little world there was never any doubt:” Fraser, Diplomatist’s Wife vol. 1, 221.
130“The religion was Anglican and thorough”: Ibid.
130“I will leave this out”: Ibid., 226.
131“devouring the forbidden page”: Ibid., 227.
131“Very good” . . . “foul disgrace!”: Ibid., 222.
131The school was a bastion: Ibid., 228. The aunts hated French ideas, considering them “flippant and demoralising.” Empress Eugénie may have been beautiful, Aunt Ellen once advised a student, but she could not be “virtuous or a lady—I am told she has worn a bright red ball-gown!”
131Photographs from the era show the Sewells: Mountague Charles Owen, The Sewells of the Isle of Wight (Manchester, UK: Manchester Courier, 1906), photo following p. 28.
131After their father died leaving huge debts: Ibid., 31–32.
131Soon word spread among the wellborn: Fraser, Diplomatist’s Wife, vol. 1, 223.
132Scores of novels: Owen, Sewells of the Isle of Wight, 33–38. Fifty-seven works by Elizabeth Sewell are listed.
132The school boasted a rigorous curriculum: Owen, Sewells of the Isle of Wight, 32. Aldrich, Family Vista, 47. Fraser, Diplomatist’s Wife, vol. 1, 222, 224, 226.
132“rigid third person”: Fraser, Diplomatist’s Wife, vol. 1, 224.
132“Be willowy, young ladies”: Ibid., 225.
132“the highest of high teas”: Ibid. Description of the daily schedule, 225–26. Owen, Sewells of the Isle of Wight, 32. Aunt Ellen Sewell playing the piano every evening.
133“The child is a homeless wanderer”: E. M. Sewell and L. B. Urbino, Dictation Exercises (New York: Leypoldt & Holt, 1867), 36.
133Elizabeth spent her free time: Mary Marshall to Elizabeth Chanler, December 13, 1878, Chapman Papers, Rokeby.
133“Poor dear Lady Jane”: Fraser, Diplomatist’s Wife, vol. 1, 229.
133“green and purple sea”: J. C. Medland, Shipwrecks of the Wight (Isle of Wight, UK: Coach House, 1995), 29.
134The ship was the HMS Eurydice: Ibid., 29–30. Peter Bray, The Sinking of the Eurydice (Ventnor, UK: Ventnor and District Local History Society), 1–2.
134Soon after 3:30 p.m. . . . two survived: Medland, Shipwrecks of the Wight, 29–30. At 3:30 p.m. the Bonchurch coastguard station noted the ship “moving fast under all plain sail, studding sails on fore and main, bonnets and skyscrapers.”
134Winston Churchill’s memory: Winston S. Churchill, A Roving Commission: My Early Life (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1930), 6–7. “We saw a great splendid ship with all her sails set, passing the shore only a mile or two away,” he wrote. But after the squall, “there was no splendid ship in full sail, but three black masts . . . sticking up out of the water in a stark way.” The ship had to be raised, deep-sea divers had to collect the corpses. Churchill reported that some of the divers fainted at the sight of fish devouring the drowned men. Churchill remembered “corpses towed very slowly by boats one sunny day.” A great number of people lined the cliff to watch, “and we all took off our hats in sorrow.”
135“the spirit of God”: Clara Eliam Coode to Elizabeth Chanler, November 30, 1896, Chapman Papers, Rokeby.
135“she is so attractive”: Elizabeth Sewell to Margaret Stuyvesant Rutherfurd, June 8, [1878], Chapman Papers, Rokeby.
135“morbid, self-conscious”: Elizabeth M Sewell, Letters on Daily Life (New York: E. & J. B. Young, 1885), 328.
135“The shy unobtrusiveness” . . . “pretend to decide”: Ibid., 338. Aunt Elizabeth dedicated an entire chapter in her book to the differences between the bright young things from America and the duty-bound, self-sacrificing English girls. She wrote that in America, “Young people rule to an extent which is startling to an English mind, especially to one which has been brought up upon the old traditions of deference to the opinion of elders,” 341. Perhaps it was all that sunlight in America, she mused, 328–29.
136“but not extravagant”: Guardian minutes, January 15, 1878. Aldrich Papers, Rokeby.
136“usual” Christmas presents . . . “good management”: Ibid., December 17, 1878.
136permissions were sought . . . “societies” for Archie: Ibid., January 18, 1881, February 15, 1881, January 15, 1884, April 19, 1888, December 21, 1880.
137“My fear is that the Uncles” . . . “very small matter”: Elizabeth Sewell to Margaret Stuyvesant Rutherfurd, June 8, [1878], Chapman Papers, Rokeby.
137She packed Elizabeth off with lessons: Letter from Elizabeth Sewell to Margaret Stuyvesant Rutherfurd, June 13, [1878], Chapman Papers, Rokeby. Miss Sewell sent Elizabeth off with a less-than-scintillating reading list: a German grammar book by Dr. Emil Otto, Aunt Charlotte’s Stories of French History, and The Pupils of St. John the Divine “for Sunday reading.” Miss Sewell also sent word to Mary Marshall that Elizabeth should not be allowed to “scribble” lest she fall into “an untidy way of writing.”
137“Pride—Temper—Curiosity”: Elizabeth Sewell to Margaret Stuyvesant Rutherfurd, June 8, [1878], Chapman Papers, Rokeby.
138J. Winthrop Chanler had selected her: John Winthrop Aldrich, e-mail message to author, December 23, 2004.
138Daisy had gone to Miss Sewell’s . . . with their busy schedules: Margaret Stuyvesant Rutherfurd to Lewis Morris Rutherfurd, July 31, 1878, Aldrich Papers, Rokeby.
138Then, as if by magic: Thomas, Astor Orphans, 1971 ed., 45–47.
139One of the guardians advised her: Letter from Margaret Rutherfurd White to Elizabeth Chanler, December 29, 1879, Chapman Papers, Rokeby. Margaret “Daisy” White sent a long list of dos and don’ts for Elizabeth while she was in France. It was imperative that Elizabeth be a good guest “so that when you leave I shall hear what a pleasure your visit has been & not what a trouble.” She should be sure to give “good liberal tips” to the servants in the households where she was staying—though Elizabeth should also be wary about the help (“I never trust to maids to look after jewellry”). “I particularly want you dear to read music.” “Take good care of yourself and don’t walk too much. But on the other hand, get out every day for air—if need be, hire a cab. Don’t stay up late. To bed by quarter to ten at the latest.” “You are not strong now & all these things are of the greatest importance, as I am sure you do not wish to grow up to be a delicate woman.”
139Elizabeth also had in hand a recommendation: Dr. James Paget to Elizabeth Chanler, December 18, 1879, Chapman Papers, Rokeby.
139a baroness married to the Dutch envoy: Harvey O’Connor, The Astors (New York: Knopf, 1941), 315–16. “De Steurs Divorce Case,” New York Times, February 9, 1892. Edgar W. Nye, “Nye on Divorces. They Are Not What They Are Cracked Up to Be,” Johnston New York Daily Republican, March 1892. “Divorced and Married. Baroness De Steurs’s Grass-Widowhood Was of Brief Duration,” Los Angeles Herald, March 8, 1892. “Fighting for Her Child. The Divorced Wife of Baron De Steurs Fighting the Courts,” Milwaukee Journal, January 20, 1893. “De Steurs Children to Get $325,000 Each,” New York Times, February 18, 1914. The Baroness de Steurs provided the press with reams of salacious copy. Maggie de Steurs was the first Astor to file for divorce—and hers was particularly nasty. Her marriage to the baron dissolved on a summer day in 1890 after her maid informed her that the doors in the house had been locked and the baroness was about to be carted off to an insane asylum. The baroness escaped and eventually made her way to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, the haven for quickie divorces in the 1890s, with a handsome Polish count in tow. The baron testified that his wife was insane. In turn, she accused her husband of cruelty—of having spit in her face, and having screamed at her in public, “I wish I’d never married you!” (A satirical columnist noted that the warring couple had to stay in the same hotel in Sioux Falls since there was only one decent one in town. “There they mope around, waiting for their turn at court, and glare at each other across their fruit meringue.”) The baroness got her divorce—and on the same day a marriage license to marry her count, a handsome polo player. (He
eventually became a well-known race-car driver and died during a race in 1903 when he had to make a hairpin turn and his cuff-links were said to have caught in the car’s hand throttle.) The newly minted countess won custody of her children, but the baron had the divorce annulled in The Hague and custody awarded to him. He spirited off one child to a convent in Paris. The couple battled for years. Eventually, the countess disinherited her two de Steurs children “for the reason that they have not shown me any of the love and respect due to a mother.” Lawsuits went on for years after the countess’s death, with the children claiming their mother had been a morphine addict, an alcoholic, and that she had “labored under queer hallucinations,” believing she was in communication with the deceased count. They also claimed their mother had taken old photographs of them, smeared ink over them, and then sent the defaced images back to them. All this was avidly reported in the press.
139“surgeon’s fees”: Guardian minutes, February 17, 1880, Aldrich Papers, Rokeby.
139“strapped down in a machine”: Thomas, Astor Orphans, 1971 ed., 47–48.
140“Cousin Stuyve”: Ibid., 47.
140hunting game and bagging art: Stuart W. Pyhrr, Of Arms and Men: Arms and Armor at the Metropolitan 1912–2012 (New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2012), 6, 41. Rutherfurd “Stuyve” Stuyvesant eventually amassed around six hundred pieces for his personal armory, probably the largest collection in the country. Cousin Stuyve’s Second Avenue household was exceedingly gloomy when Elizabeth came to stay, as he was in mourning. A year earlier he’d lost his infant son and wife while she was giving birth inside the mansion.
140“What is best will be made plain”: Mary Marshall to Elizabeth Chanler, May 1, 1881, Chapman Papers, Rokeby.
140Lengthy letters kept Elizabeth abreast: Mary Marshall and Margaret Chanler to Elizabeth Chanler, January 22, 1881, February 17, 1881, April 26, 1881, Chapman Papers, Rokeby.
141“Queen Bess”: Thomas, Astor Orphans, 1971 ed., 47.
141“Your loving old school fellow” . . . “privation cheerfully”: Letter from Elizabeth Sewell and Helen Mary Hichens to Elizabeth Chanler, February 26, 1881, Chapman Papers, Rokeby.
141“dear little face again!”: Ellen Sewell to Elizabeth Chanler, July 29, 1882, Chapman Papers, Rokeby.
141how unchanged she was . . . “I hope my dear Bessie”: Ellen and Elizabeth Sewell to Elizabeth Chanler, July 25, 1884, Chapman Papers, Rokeby.
142“I am so afraid that you might suffer”: Mary Marshall to Elizabeth Chanler, February 12, 1883, Chapman Papers, Rokeby.
142Elizabeth came of age in 1887: Thomas, Astor Orphans, 1971 ed., 97.
142Another sibling would settle up: Ibid., 105.
142“To roam & see”: Robert Chanler to Elizabeth Chanler, January 13, 1893, Chapman Papers, Rokeby.
143Her symptoms indicate: Dr. Thomas Osteen, orthopedic surgeon from Asheboro, North Carolina, telephone interview, June 2013.
143she had remade her rather lighthearted groom: Allan Nevins, Henry White: Thirty Years of American Diplomacy (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1930), 35–36. Harry White became a prominent diplomat—“the most useful man in the entire diplomatic service,” according to Theodore Roosevelt. White helped negotiate the Treaty of Versailles after World War I.
143She also helped launch Sargent: Ormond and Kilmurray, The Early Portraits, 106.
144“Souls”: Jane Abdy and Charlotte Gere, The Souls (London: Sidgwick & Jackson, 1984), 181–84.
144“Ah Bah”: Nevins, Henry White, 80.
144Daisy herself was much too puritanical: Ibid., 33.
144When a robber made off: Ibid., 77.
144The Whites occasionally dined . . . “she thinks me very pretty!”: Ibid., 89–91. Dinner with Queen Victoria at Balmoral was at 8:45. Daisy wore a black brocade dress with tulle sleeves designed by the House of Worth in Paris, the design firm of the Gilded Age. To complete the outfit, Daisy wore a chain and a collar, both of them studded with diamonds and pearls; she also placed an aigrette, a headdress of jewels or feathers, in her hair. Daisy curtsied and kissed Queen Victoria’s hand when she paused en route to the dining room. Indian servants, “splendid in gold and scarlet,” accompanied the monarch. As for the queen: “She is tiny!” Daisy wrote, “but her dignity is wonderful.” After dinner the queen discussed golf and other subjects with Daisy. The queen didn’t understand the game but thought it “looked very dull.” JoAnne Olian, The House of Worth: The Gilded Age 1860–1918 (New York: Museum of the City of New York, 1982), 7. A Worth gown might cost ten thousand dollars.
144Elizabeth wore the prescribed costume . . . touching the floor with her knee: http://www.edwardianpromenade.com/etiquette/the-court-presentation/.
145“Hurry!”: Thomas, Astor Orphans, 1971 ed., 101–02. Discussion of Elizabeth’s social gaffe during her presentation to the queen.
146The ceremony came off in such a rush: Ibid., 142–144. The wedding was so rushed that Robert’s sister Margaret missed the event by a day, and her brother Willie was off only-God-knew-where in the wilds of Africa. Ibid., 185. Around the time of the wedding, Elizabeth had a dream in which Willie told her he was dead. Awakening, she immediately scribbled the details of her nightmare on scraps of paper. She feared it was a portent. Willie did, in fact, survive the African trip. Barely.
146“old Fuzz Buzz”: John Armstrong Chanler to Stanford White, December 26, 1893, Stanford White Papers, New-York Historical Society.
146“like a Triton”: John Jay Chapman, “McKim, Mead and White: Especially Concerning the Influence of Stanford White on American Architecture,” Vanity Fair (September 1919), 102. Author John Jay Chapman’s second wife was Elizabeth Chanler.
146It is believed that she purchased: http://www.nga.gov/collection/gallery/gg69/gg69-46428-prov.html. The museum’s provenance for the painting comes from White’s family.
147He truly believed this would be the capstone: Olson, John Singer Sargent, 154–55.
147working in an oversized: Mount, John Singer Sargent, 1957 ed., 162. The studio in Fairford was sixty-four feet long, forty feet wide, and twenty-five feet high.
147a glorious fifteenth-century church: Reverend Canon Edward Keble, St Mary’s Church: Fairford Gloucestershire, Consecrated 1497 (Much Wenlock Shropshire, UK: Smith & Associates for St. Mary’s Church, 2010), 5–22.
148 Charming jumble of French furnishings . . . humming or whistling: Olson, John Singer Sargent, 129–31. Description of Tite Street studio and his method of painting.
148mutual friend in Sally Fairchild: Ormond and Kilmurray, Portraits of the 1890s, 68.
148“What an unpleasant American idea!”: Aldrich, Family Vista, 88. Description of the painting session.
148“talking hard”: Ormond and Kilmurray, Portraits of the 1890s, 68.
149“I have painted you la penserosa”: Aldrich, Family Vista, 88.
149“you must have flames”: Elizabeth Chanler to Chanler Chapman, January 16, 1922, Chapman Papers, Rokeby.
150“Be fearfully afraid”: M. A. De Wolfe Howe, John Jay Chapman and His Letters (Cambridge, MA: Riverside Press, 1937), 105.
150“At that time I was rooming alone”: Ibid., 59–60.
151“Please don’t be scared” . . . “That is for you to find out”: Ibid., 60–61.
151“Imagine my horror”: Wolcott, Heritage of Years, 257. Howe, John Jay Chapman, 62, 64. Further description of Minna being sent away and cutting off her hair in devotion to Chapman.
152He became a staple at their dinner parties: Jack Chapman to Elizabeth Chanler, October 18, 1895, January [no date], 1895. Elizabeth Chanler to Jack Chapman, December 22, [1894], Chapman Papers, Rokeby. Describes dinners and Minna being away from home.
152“I have played chess”: Jack Chapman to Elizabeth Chanler, June 25, 1895, John Jay Chapman Papers, 1841–1940 (MS Am 1854), Houghton Library, Harvard University.
152“way down in Hades” . . . “There is a certain cut”: Howe, John Jay Chapman, 104.
152“My dear Miss Chanler”:
Jack Chapman to Elizabeth Chanler, December 28, 1894. John Jay Chapman Papers, 1841–1940 (MS Am 1854), Houghton Library, Harvard University.
152“Elizabeth darling”: Ibid., October 3, 1895, John Jay Chapman Papers, 1841–1940 (MS Am 1854). Houghton Library, Harvard University. This was the third letter Chapman wrote to Elizabeth that day. It was written in the evening from the Century Association on West 43rd Street.
152“my beautiful Elizabeth”: Jack Chapman to Elizabeth Chanler, October 29, 1896, Chapman Papers, Rokeby.
152“I love you & am with you in spirit”: Jack Chapman to Elizabeth Chanler, December 28, 1894, John Jay Chapman Papers, 1841–1940 (MS Am 1854), Houghton Library, Harvard University.
152“What is going to happen is this”: Ibid., February 17, 1895, John Jay Chapman Papers, 1841–1940 (MS Am 1854), Houghton Library, Harvard University.
153“a sort of electric wire”: Ibid., October 3, 1895, John Jay Chapman Papers, 1841–1940 (MS Am 1854). Houghton Library, Harvard University. One of three letters he wrote to her that day, this one was on letterhead from his law firm at 56 Wall Street.
153“The air is full of spirits”: Jack Chapman to Elizabeth Chanler, March 20, 1895, John Jay Chapman Papers, 1841–1940 (MS Am 1854), Houghton Library, Harvard University.
153“gasping for air”: Ibid., October 3, 1895, John Jay Chapman Papers, 1841–1940 (MS Am 1854). Houghton Library, Harvard University. This is from the third letter he wrote to her that day, from the Century Association.
153“blessedness” . . . “all the Light Life”: Jack Chapman to Elizabeth Chanler, October 3, 1895. John Jay Chapman Papers, 1841–1940 (MS Am 1854). Houghton Library, Harvard University. This is the second letter written that day from Jack’s Wall Street law firm.
154“big letter with death in it” . . . “you have burnt them”: Jack Chapman to Elizabeth Chanler, October 3, 1895. John Jay Chapman Papers, 1841–1940 (MS Am 1854). Houghton Library, Harvard University. Two letters Jack wrote from his Wall Street law firm.
154“sounded like cracked china” . . . “a flighty shallow girl”: Jack Chapman to Elizabeth Chanler, October 4, 1895. John Jay Chapman Papers, 1841–1940 (MS Am 1854). Houghton Library, Harvard University.
Sargent's Women Page 32