by Meryl Gordon
The pattern began before the stock market crash, when William Andrews Clark’s eldest daughter, Mary Clark Culver Kling de Brabant, was sued in January 1929 by her social secretary for $123,000 allegedly owed for “personal care in public and in private.” Mrs. Vernon Howe Bailey, Mary’s assistant and the wife of an artist, promised to deliver racy evidence and even call a psychic. But she suddenly dropped the lawsuit, and her lawyer issued an apologetic statement saying that “her fancied grievances were due to unfortunate misstatements and gossip by acquaintances.” The Los Angeles Times noted with disappointment, SOCIETY TONGUES CEASE WAGGING AS SUIT FIZZLES.
But nothing roused the newsroom symphony of chattering typewriters like the death of music lover William Andrews Clark Jr. On June 14, 1934, he had a heart attack at age fifty-seven, a day after arriving at his fishing camp at Salmon Lake, Montana. By the time the closest doctor, forty-five minutes away, arrived, it was too late. Clark Jr.’s last will and testament contained a startling bequest: the founder of the Los Angeles Philharmonic and rare book collector left a large share of his $9 million estate to a seventeen-year-old boy, George John Pale, the son of his housekeeper. News stories implied that Clark’s affection for the teen had sexual overtones. The Los Angeles Times stated that George Pale had been Clark’s ward and “has been reared and educated by him”—an unfortunate word choice—with the expectation of a legal adoption. The Associated Press said that Pale had been Clark’s “constant companion” and had been with him when he died.
George Pale submitted personal letters from his benefactor to the probate court. Most were tame but in one memorable note, William Andrews Clark Jr. wrote: “My Dear Baby, You promised to write me… Do not forget. Anyway, I have a whip here and your fanny will be well spanked and you will have to eat off the mantel piece… I love you and I kiss you with all my heart, Sincerely yours, Daddy.” George Pale received $1.135 million. William Andrews Clark Jr. also left $125,000 and a Santa Monica home to the “Oscar Wilde type”—Harrison Post—who had been a source of concern to his older brother, Charles Clark.
In 1936, the family name was back in the headlines when Thelma Clark, the widow of William Andrews Clark III (aka Tertius) was sued for $150,000 for committing “love theft.” The lawsuit claimed that Thelma had seduced ship’s purser Michael Fitzpatrick on a boat traveling from Los Angeles to the Panama Canal and convinced him to abandon his marriage. Hot-and-heavy telegrams and a private detective’s report were produced during the trial. Thelma Clark lost and was ordered to hand over $30,000 to the aggrieved wife, Christine Fitzgerald, for a “love balm.”
Every tidbit about the Clarks and their money was treated as good copy. Huguette’s finances remained a semi-open book: newspapers reported that she received $500,000 from her trust fund in 1935. The devoted daughter gave half of the money to her mother. This was an unimaginably large sum in the year that President Franklin Delano Roosevelt created the WPA to boost national employment, hiring workers for $41.57 per month for construction jobs fixing roads and bridges.
Although Anna and Huguette were maintaining a low profile in Manhattan, they adopted a decidedly more public one in Santa Barbara. Anna took a box at the polo matches, subscribed to concerts, and opened her home to out-of-town guests during Fiesta Week. Mother and daughter were listed in the California society pages as a matched pair, Mmes. William Clark.
In the summer of 1934, while Huguette luxuriated at Bellosguardo, her painting teacher headed for Europe, sailing into an art world controversy. Tadé Styka’s sensual portrait of actress Marion Davies had mysteriously turned up in the American Pavilion at the Venice Biennial Exhibit, although it had not been one of the artworks officially selected for the show. Whitney Museum director Juliana Force angrily demanded that the painting be removed, arguing that since Styka was Polish, not American, his work should not be displayed. The mastermind who concocted this stunt was unmasked as William Randolph Hearst. The newspaper publisher was so eager for the painting of his mistress, Davies, to receive acclaim that he had secretly cut a deal with Count Volpi di Misurata, the biennial’s director, to sneak the Styka painting into the exhibit.
For Tadé Styka, the publicity only burnished his reputation. He was already flourishing; his portrait of President Roosevelt’s mother, Sara, had received glowing reviews. He and his younger brother Adam, an artist, were planning a joint American exhibit. The New York Daily Mirror’s society column ran a flattering item: “Teas given by Tadé Styka, the noted Polish artist, are among the most interesting in New York. The walls of his studio are hung with the portraits of beautiful women. His Japanese bartender makes excellent cocktails which vanish speedily down fashionable throats. One meets only worthwhile people beneath his roof.”
Perennial bachelor Tadé sent his new muse Doris Ford a telegram inviting her to join him in Italy, with the reassuring promise that his sister and family members would be there to chaperone. “The person who delivered the telegram said, ‘It requires a response,’ ” says Wanda Styka, repeating oft-told family history. Her mother replied, “Yes, I would be delighted.” A newspaper item noted that Tadé Styka had taken Doris Ford to Rome to pose for murals that he was creating for the Vatican.
An ocean and a continent away, Huguette wrote to Tadé that July. In lyrical language, she described a vacation with her mother in Colorado, scribbling on the back of three postcards about her love of nature and rigorous traveling. Huguette had visited the home of Ganna Walska, an oft-married Polish opera star believed to have been the model for the screeching and untalented singer in Citizen Kane.
Cher Maitre,
I do not want to leave Colorado without sending you these few photos taken of an uninhabited chateau that we visited around the Garden of the Gods, which is one of the curiosities of the country. The chateau is called Glen-Eyrie, because of a nest of perched eagles on the park’s boulder. It belonged to one of Ganna Walska’s husbands. She got a divorce before living in it. Now it is for sale. This castle is like a dream it’s so picturesque and a fairy-like and fantastic landscape that surrounds it.
The Royal Gorge is also very beautiful and the suspended bridge is the highest in the world. We went down in an elevator to admire the view at the bottom, which is as grandiose but far from as beautiful as that of the Grand Canyon or Yellowstone…
Tomorrow we are going to visit Pike’s Peak, the highest mountain in Colorado. Hoping to soon hear of your good news and I send you my fondest regards,
Huguette
Although the artist had taken Doris with him to Europe, once he was back in New York in the winter of 1935, he began to squire Huguette around town at night, in addition to giving her painting lessons four times a week. His appointment calendar is dotted with their frequent outings: taking Huguette to the theatre and a Fifth Avenue fashion show; a dinner at Brooklyn’s ornate 1909 Hotel Bossert on Montague Street with its romantic roof terrace and sweeping views of Manhattan; a movie date followed by dinner and music at the new popular French nightclub Versailles on East Fiftieth Street. “The management of the Versailles Restaurant continues to shoot at the moon,” the New York Times reported earlier that week, “… and on Monday, the trophy room will celebrate the addition of Libby Holman, the singer of sad, sad songs… a proper adornment for the luxurious spot.” Tadé also joined Huguette and her mother for dinner and a bridge game at 907 Fifth Avenue. He jotted down notes in his appointment calendar about her artwork, noting that on April 15 she had started work on a painting of a Japanese courtesan. Tadé hired Japanese female models so that Huguette could work from real inspiration. (He could not resist noting in his calendar that one had “beautiful breasts.”)
For Huguette, this was the life that she had dreamed of, painting the town with the man she had adored for years. Yet as fond as Tadé was of the heiress, his feelings were platonic. She had an appealing innocence compared to the sophisticated society ladies he was commissioned to paint. The lines between his work and his friendships blurred: he was often i
ncluded in the dinner parties and social lives of his clients, the perfect continental extra man. He was the frequent escort of Mrs. Amanda Storrs, the widow of Playbill founder and theatre owner Frank Vance Storrs, and one of Anna Clark’s closest friends. He did not intend to lead Huguette on, but his flirtatious nature could not help but continue to give her hope.
Anna Clark was not a shut-in, either; she showed no inclination to remarry, but the wealthy widow had a new admirer: the radio personality Major Bowes. The pioneering entertainer’s Original Amateur Hour show on NBC had recently become a national sensation. Each week, more than ten thousand people applied to perform on his show in the hope of being discovered. Recently widowed and a Catholic like Anna, Bowes came from an impoverished background. This grammar school dropout had reinvented himself as a theatre owner and an on-air performer. (His name was Edward Bowes, but he assumed “Major” as a showbiz moniker.) Bowes was known for using a gong to cut off performers, and his on-air catchphrase was: “The wheel of fortune goes ’round and ’round, where she stops, nobody knows.” An aspiring young Frank Sinatra appeared on the show with the quartet the Hoboken Four.
An art collector with paintings by Renoir, Van Gogh, and Rembrandt, Bowes became so fond of Anna Clark that he gave her a large, square canary diamond that she had mounted as a ring. He was four years her senior, much more of a contemporary than her husband had been. Bowes also presented her with the requisite autographed photo, which she displayed prominently in her music room along with signed photographs of celebrities she had known, such as the opera star Enrico Caruso. Anna also cherished a photo of Bowes in a more relaxed setting: playing cards while clad in an elegant smoking jacket and slacks.
Mother and daughter entertained together: on April 28, Tadé Styka went to the Clarks’ Fifth Avenue apartment to listen to a Major Bowes broadcast and then have dinner afterward with the radio host. The artist spent Thanksgiving with Huguette and Anna at the home of Anna’s sister, Amelia. The evening ended abruptly when Tadé made an emergency trip to the hospital for appendicitis. Anna sent her chauffeur to the hospital to bring him home several days later. On Christmas Day 1935, Anna and Huguette celebrated the holiday by hosting an intimate dinner for Major Bowes, Tadé Styka, and Amelia and her husband, Bryce Turner.
Huguette’s dance à deux with Tadé continued into 1936, with regular outings in addition to her lessons. On January 25, the couple went to see the opera Carmen; on February 15, he took Huguette to the Ziegfeld Follies to see Josephine Baker sing and dance and the Nicholas Brothers tap dance on stage. “Miss Baker cannot sing but sure can wear clothes. And roll those eyes,” pronounced Variety in a review of the show that appeared that very morning. “She looks best in an exotic scene called ‘5 a.m.’ in which she sings and dances with four shadowy black-masked men. It is a Balanchine ballet.” After seeing the Follies, the painter and Huguette dined at Maisonette Russe at the St. Regis Hotel.
Three days later, Tadé accompanied Huguette, her mother, and her aunt to an art exhibit. On February 22, he took Huguette dancing at the St. Regis; on Sunday, March 22, he and Huguette went to hear a violin concert. On April 27, they dined at the Hotel Sherry-Netherland with her aunt; on May 6, he took Huguette to the French Casino to see the extravaganza Folies de Femmes show of dancing girls. (This risqué performance had become a must-see after a magistrate acquitted the theatre owners in late February—CABARET MEN CLEARED, announced the New York Times—of charges of “conducting indecent shows.”) When his brother Adam and his sister-in-law Wanda visited from Poland, the artist took them out to dinner with Huguette.
Throughout the 1930s, Huguette continued her summer pilgrimages to Bellosguardo. When she was leaving New York by train for Santa Barbara, the gentlemanly Tadé escorted her to Pennsylvania Station and gave her a corsage. She sent him a playful telegram en route: “Cher Maitre. Infinite thanks for your magnificent corsage which still keeps all of its freshness. I am tending to it in order to wear it while disembarking the train in Los Angeles. It was a hit in Chicago. Again, I wish you a good vacation. Regards, Huguette.”
The best-seller lists for 1937 included Margaret Mitchell’s Gone with the Wind, Dale Carnegie’s How to Win Friends and Influence People, volumes by Virginia Woolf and Somerset Maugham, plus a novel by newcomer Myron Brinig, The Sisters. The Atlanta Constitution labeled the Brinig novel “one of the better books of the season,” and the New York Times promised readers that they would be “engrossed” by The Sisters since it “has something of the sweep of Gone with the Wind.” When the movie version came out a year later starring Bette Davis and Errol Flynn, the Boston Globe described it as a “sentimental, heart-warming story of three beautiful girls which is sure to please every woman patron…”
Not every woman. Not Anna La Chapelle Clark. Set in Montana in 1904, The Sisters stole liberally from her life story and that of her sister, Amelia. Brinig, who lived in Butte and is believed to have known the La Chapelle sisters, used many identifying details. The fictional Elliott family is originally from Michigan (where the La Chapelle family had lived) and the fictional Elliott patriarch is a pharmacist (Peter La Chapelle was convicted of practicing medicine without a license after writing prescriptions to Butte pharmacists). The fictional Elliotts live on West Granite Street, the location of William Andrews Clark’s Butte mansion.
One of the three intertwined plots centers on the rebellious, beautiful, and amoral youngest sister, Helen Elliott. She weds a widowed copper titan more than twice her age—a man who was originally from Pennsylvania and took a metallurgy course at an eastern college. (In case the reader doesn’t get the heavy-handed message, William Andrews Clark makes a cameo in the novel, stopping into a shop in Silver Bow to buy the New York newspapers.)
In the movie version of The Sisters, Helen’s mother announces in abject horror that her daughter does not love the mogul and is marrying for money. The copper titan’s daughter from his first marriage bitterly resents Helen and tries to undermine her. In the book, Helen cheats on her elderly husband, and he dies while she is in bed with another man.
Anna’s name was never mentioned in either the novel or the book. But the portrayal of her doppelganger as a heartless gold digger and adulteress was inescapable and infuriating. It was made worse by the fact that during a two-year period, the book and the movie embedded themselves into late 1930s popular culture.
Even as Tadé Styka was spending ample time with Huguette, he was also seeing model Doris Ford. Curious about the artist’s relationship with Huguette, Doris began to make notes in her journal about their activities. Rather than feel threatened, Doris tried to ingratiate herself with the painter’s wealthy pupil. On January 17, 1937, Doris wrote that Tadé was taking Huguette to see a Hindu dancer, bringing his brother and sister-in-law along. On April 30, Doris tried to be helpful by looking for Japanese models to hire for Huguette’s lessons. Doris occasionally lingered in the background at Tadé’s studio during Huguette’s sessions, trying to avoid disrupting the heiress’s concentration. She described the scene in her notes: “She liked quietly to paint, a pin could be heard if dropped.” Much to Doris’s frustration, when Huguette and Tadé did converse they spoke in French, which the model did not understand.
Doris kept track of Tadé’s dates with Huguette, noting that he took the heiress out for her birthday, June 9, to a movie and then dancing at the Rainbow Room atop Rockefeller Center. Tadé spent the summer in France, but as soon as he returned, the artist began spending time with both women yet again. Using his initials, Doris jotted such notes as “TS went to a movie with HC in the afternoon to the Clarks for dinner” on October 15, and “TS to florist where he made an arrangement for HC.”
But word was starting to circulate about the artist’s romance with Doris. On November 30, Tadé went to the Clarks’ home for dinner and then to the opera. Anna’s sister, Amelia, took him aside that night to say that her dear friend Amanda Storrs had seen Tadé out for the evening with a “tall dark girl.” Then Anna corn
ered him (presumably out of Huguette’s earshot) to ask if he planned to marry that girl. When Tadé recounted the story to Doris the next day, he did not tell her what he replied, but she wrote in her journal: “He’s not much for words, he silently hugged me.”
Huguette’s dance card, however, included another attentive man. Her childhood summer playmate from France, Etienne de Villermont, had turned up in New York and was now frequently featured in the gossip columns. Etienne, his younger brother, Henri, and their artist parents had been befriended by Anna and William Andrews Clark at the beach resort of Trouville in the pre–World War I era. Now Etienne, known as the Marquis de Villermont, was making headlines for his amorous American adventures. The handsome bachelor was linked in the columns to several eligible women. On March 3, 1936, he was reported to be engaged to the widow of a coffee magnate, Mrs. Claire Eugenia Smith, who had inherited $6 million. But that turned out to be a joke. Villermont and one of his closest friends, Russian prince Alexis Droutzkoy, at a nightclub with Mrs. Smith, had quipped to the Daily News that they had been rivals for her affections (MARQUIS IS WINNER OF HEIRESS WIDOW), but the emerald-draped Mrs. Smith later denied the engagement. Etienne was described as a perfume importer, but he would not hold that job for long.
In February 1938, Huguette attended a lunch with Etienne de Villermont at the St. Regis Hotel. The event honored Lady Decies, the American wife of a British aristocrat, who was due to sail on the Normandie for her home in Paris. It was the first time Huguette was seen in public with the marquis. But Etienne, two years older than Huguette, was playing the field. On November 25, 1938, Walter Winchell wrote that the marquis, now working at the French consulate, “is lavishing most of his diplomacy on Jayne Gayle, the modelulu.”
Huguette continued to go out with Tadé that spring: they attended the opera, a Japanese-themed dinner, and the Rodgers and Hart musical I Married an Angel at the Shubert Theatre. In honor of Tadé’s birthday on April 13, Huguette and her mother gave a dinner party for him.