Consuelo and Alva Vanderbilt
Page 24
Amidst it all, Consuelo’s debut in London 1896 was a great success – the ‘rage of the season and everybody makes a fuss of her’, according to Chicago heiress Mary Leiter, who had recently married George Curzon. ‘Everybody raves about Consuelo,’ she wrote in letters home to Washington. ‘She is very sweet in her great position, and shyly takes her rank directly after royalty. She looks very stately in her marvellous jewels, and she looks pretty and has old lace which makes my mouth water. I never saw pearls the size of nuts.’23 Consuelo – and her jewellery – were once again closely observed from different angles. ‘We had a very nice view of the American Duchess of Marlborough (Vanderbilt)’ wrote the diarist Lady Monkswell. ‘She is not a beauty but nice looking, very tall and slender with a little retroussé nose and dark eyes … she had a splendid dress of turquoise velvet. A little open-work diamond crown, perched as they now do on the top of her head, quantities of strings of pearls round the neck, and a band of diamonds at least 3 inches wide, round her waist.’24
Back in Oxfordshire, Consuelo’s impact was equally striking, even on children. Viscount Churchill (scion of a collateral line at Cornbury Park) recalled that while Blenheim suffered from ‘a certain lack of colour in spite of the pomp and circumstance’, the exception was Consuelo who ‘passed completely through the barrier separating child from grown-up. The fact that Consuelo Vanderbilt was young, new to her surroundings and very watchful, just as a child is watchful, may have had something to do with it. She was also beautiful and a child responds to beauty.’25 Undergraduates at Oxford fell for her charm too. One, Guy Fortescue, saw her frequently in the distance and he and his friends fell ‘instantly in love with her piquante oval face perched upon a long slender neck, her enormous dark eyes fringed with curling lashes, her dimples, and her tiny teeth when she smiled’.26 In spite of Lady Monkwell’s reservations, Consuelo quickly came to be regarded as one of the great beauties of the Edwardian era. It helped, no doubt, that ‘it was the slim, tight look that counted’,27 and that Consuelo came to embody it. Stories of her beauty caused an equerry to exercise royal prerogative at a ball at Grosvenor House, and interrupt while she was dancing to introduce her to the old Duke of Brunswick. He was blind, but so anxious to see what the new Duchess of Marlborough looked like that he asked ‘if I would object to his running his fingers over my face, since only so could he know what I looked like. It was an embarrassing procedure, but I felt too sorry for him to refuse.’28
Consuelo may not fully have appreciated the extent to which being Duchess of Marlborough gave her an easy entrée into English society. Mary Curzon had a far more lonely and difficult time because George Curzon’s obsessional approach to his work as Under Secretary at the Foreign Office (and Member of Parliament, Privy Councillor and leading authority on Asiatic affairs) made it hard for her to go out in society. They had refused Ascot, she wrote home in June 1896. ‘G’s work defeats all forms of amusement.’29 This was another difference for American women. In New York they exercised almost total control over the social domain, as they did over their homes. In London, participation of women in society was largely a function of their husband’s status, and men, from the Prince of Wales downwards, were acutely aware of society’s protocols which they actively maintained. Mary Curzon was prevented from enjoying herself at Ascot by George’s work; Consuelo, on the other hand, was required to attend Ascot Week by Sunny.
For Ascot they took a small house where the Duke invited friends, and the chef complained (rightly, in Consuelo’s view) that he was overworked. He retaliated by ordering quails at 5 shillings each and ortolans (buntings) – which cost even more – and serving them for breakfast, causing Consuelo to blush with shame at such nouveau-riche extravagance. The aspect of Ascot that troubled Consuelo most, however, was that it offered up yet another opportunity for ‘blatant display’ by her husband. ‘The racecourse lay only fifty yards across the road from our house, but Marlborough had our coach-and-four sent on to Ascot simply so that he could drive onto the course. It was, moreover, a drive fraught with danger, since there was a sharp turn out of a narrow gate on to a main thoroughfare. A groom had to be sent ahead to hold up the traffic, and fresh horses over crowded roads provided a daily and unpleasant emotional experience.’30
As far as Consuelo was concerned, the activities of the season were interesting and novel, but a very great effort since everyone had to be classified and arranged in order. The rules of precedence meant that she frequently found herself sitting next to the same ancient noblemen on every occasion. On one visit to Althorp she sat between Earl Spencer and the Brazilian ambassador at every meal for four days. Fortunately, Earl Spencer was a most entertaining host, and kept her amused with a stream of anecdotes about the past. Eventually, her problems with arranging her own seating plans were solved when she found a ‘Table of Precedence’ with a number beside the name of each peer. ‘I was glad to know my own number, for, after waiting at the door of the dining-room for the older women to pass through, I one day received a furious push from an irate Marchioness who loudly claimed that it was just as vulgar to hang back as to leave before one’s turn.’31
It was felt that the best way to introduce Consuelo both to members of the family and the more important members of English society was at house parties at Blenheim during the London season. This was intimidating for such a young and inexperienced hostess, who would find herself arriving back at Blenheim at the end of the week, just ahead of twenty-five or thirty guests, to be greeted by the problems of feuding upper servants. Alva, Oliver and twelve-year-old Harold were guests at one party on 14 June 1896, the first record of a reunion between Consuelo and her mother since the departure of the Duchess for England the previous November.32 Two weeks later, the list included the Londonderrys, Daisy, Princess of Pless, the Curzons, Henry Chaplin and Viscount and Viscountess Churchill. Guests had to be seated correctly, rooms allocated, menus approved. A duchess had to do much by hand herself in the way of writing cards and replying to invitations, for it was considered ill-bred to delegate correspondence to anyone else.
There were very few bathrooms at Blenheim (some reports put the total at one), and the six housemaids had to provide jugs of hot and cold water for over thirty baths during large house parties, while Consuelo shuddered at the ‘toilet aids’ on display on account of the lack of bathrooms. Meals ran to five or six courses – two soups, one hot, one cold, followed by a choice of hot or cold fish, then a sorbet, then a meat course (game in winter, quail or ortolans in summer), an elaborate desert, a hot savoury dish with the port and finally ‘a succulent array of peaches, plums, apricots, nectarines, strawberries, raspberries, pears and peaches’ grouped in large pyramids among bowls of huge pink malmaisons. Sundays were interminable. Games were forbidden, but Edwardian guests favoured promenades in the form of a tête-à-tête. Even this was competitive and ladies who did not have a cavalier were known to hide in their rooms. ‘One never knew where one’s duties as hostess would end,’33 wrote Consuelo.
Consuelo soon realised if she were to succeed as chatelaine of Blenheim she would have to assert herself. Fortunately, Alva’s contradictory maternal messages had not been without effect. Alva may not have allowed much independence in practice, but she approved of it in theory, and even encouraged it on an occasional basis at Idle Hour when she thought she could remain in control. An inner voice approving independent behaviour can only have helped Consuelo when it came to asserting herself against certain members of the Churchill family. She had been conscious on arrival in London of the enmity directed at her by one of Sunny’s aunts, Lady Sarah Wilson, who does not emerge with credit from letters and diaries of the period. She was famous for her withering wit. In a letter to Winston Churchill, George Cornwallis-West described her tongue as ‘becoming even more vicious than it used to be’.34 In another letter, Pamela Lytton talked of her ‘evil eye’ shining ‘brighter and harder’.35 Consuelo’s problem was that Lady Sarah had frequently acted as hostess for Sunny at Blenhei
m before his marriage and now resented being displaced by his new bride.
‘At one of my first dinner parties,’ wrote Consuelo, ‘I found the ladies rising at a signal given by my husband’s aunt, who was sitting next to him. Immediately aware of a concerted plan to establish her dominance, and warned by my neighbour Lord Chesterfield’s exclamation “Never have I seen anything so rude; don’t move!”, I nevertheless went to the door and, meeting her, inquired in dulcet tones, “Are you ill, S?” “Ill?” she shrilled, “no certainly not, why should I be ill?” “There surely was no other excuse for your hasty exit,” I said calmly. She had the grace to blush; the other women hid their smiles, and never again was I thus challenged!’36
Coming on top of other examples, such as the firm line with Lady Blandford about her American background, and her insistence on separating out the food that was given to the poor, it was becoming clear that Consuelo was not all that she seemed. She looked shy and graceful, and was only nineteen, but her demeanour was misleading. For now that Consuelo was finally out of Alva’s orbit, the doll-child was giving way to the independent-minded daughter.
Consuelo’s social success was sealed by royal approval. During the summer of 1896 an invitation from Queen Victoria to ‘dine and sleep’ at Windsor Castle arrived at twenty-four-hours’ notice, as was often the case. The ‘dine and sleep’ invitation was in the nature of a royal command and was another ordeal for Consuelo, who would be formally presented to the Queen for the first time. On arrival at Windsor the Marlboroughs were greeted by one of the Duke’s great-aunts, Lady Edward Churchill, who told Consuelo exactly what she would have to do. There would be a small number of guests. Consuelo must only speak when spoken to by the Queen, and should confine her remarks to answers to Her Majesty’s questions, since only the Queen could initiate a subject. When she was presented she should kiss the Queen’s hand. The Queen would then observe the correct protocol for a peeress by imprinting a kiss on Consuelo’s brow.
No-one warned Consuelo that Queen Victoria was tiny, however. ‘I almost had to kneel to touch her outstretched hand with my lips. My balance was precariously held as I curtsied low to receive her kiss upon my forehead, and a diamond crescent in my hair caused me anxiety lest I scratch out a royal eye.’ Apart from the obvious affection demonstrated by the Queen towards her prime minister, Lord Salisbury, dinner was ‘a most depressing function’ where conversation was conducted entirely in whispers out of deference to Her Majesty. After dinner they were led to a small, cramped corridor where the guests waited before being led one by one to be introduced to the Queen, who addressed a few words to each of them in turn. ‘I found it most embarrassing to stand in front of her while everyone listened to her kind inquiries about my reactions to my adopted country, which I answered as best I could. I was, moreover, haunted by the fear that I might not notice the little nod with which it was her habit to end an audience, having heard of an unfortunate person who, not knowing the protocol, had remained glued to the spot until ignominiously removed by a lord-in-waiting.’37 Although Consuelo found the experience discomfiting and Windsor dismal and gloomy, the visit appears to have been regarded as a success by the Queen, for the Marlboroughs were invited back again the following summer.
The next royal communication was thoroughly daunting. On 2 August 1896 – less than six months after Consuelo arrived at Blenheim – Lord Knollys wrote to the Duke from the Royal Yacht at Cowes that the Prince and Princess of Wales wished to come and stay at Blenheim. They proposed arriving on Monday 23 November and remaining there until the following Saturday, bringing members of the royal family with them. The Prince of Wales, who did not bear grudges from one generation to the next, had already put his quarrel with the 8th Duke behind him and had invited Sunny to Sandringham in the summer of 1894. A visit by their royal highnesses to Blenheim had been anticipated in the local press for some time, but as far as both the Marlboroughs were concerned the setting of a precise date now meant weeks of apprehensive planning. First, the proposed guest list had to be submitted and approved. Then work started on plans to make the visit as memorable as possible. It was not simply Consuelo’s first royal visit – it was also her first big shooting party.
On top of everything else, the first phase of refurbishment at Blenheim had to be completed in time for the Prince’s arrival, which included restocking the library and rehanging and adding to Blenheim’s collection of pictures and tapestries. The Duke had also been much impressed with the opulent version of French classicism that he had observed in the great Newport mansions with their gilded boiseries, which he was eager to emulate. ‘By the end of the century this very nouveau-riche mode had emerged as a style fit for courtiers and cosmopolites, from the D’Abernons at Esher Place to the Marlboroughs at Blenheim; for anyone indeed who aspired to the magic circle of the Prince of Wales,’38 writes J. Mordaunt Crook. According to Paul Miller, curator of the Preservation Society of Newport County, fabric by Prelle of Lyon used at Marble House can be found covering one of the Blenheim bergères; and the boiseries installed at Blenheim after 1896 are so similar to those in Newport that they may even have been done by Jules Allard himself, particularly those holding the Carolus-Duran portrait of Consuelo which came from Marble House to Blenheim after the wedding. The Duke would later regret what he regarded as a lapse in taste saying that he was ‘young and uninformed’ when he put French decoration into state rooms with English proportions. ‘The result is that the French decoration is quite out of scale and leaves a very unpleasant impression on those who possess trained eyes,’39 he wrote. At the time, however, both he and Consuelo believed they were providing a magnificent new setting in the style of Versailles, closely in line with royal tastes and their own.
The sartorial question came next. The Prince of Wales was a stickler for protocol and adored dressing up. He thought that aristocratic women should be beautifully dressed, and was disconcertingly observant. ‘To the remarkable Lady Salisbury, who had a mind above such things, he one day said reprovingly: “Lady Salisbury, I think I have seen that dress before.” “Yes, and you’ll see it again,” replied that lady, undaunted but most improperly,’ wrote A. L. Rowse.40 Lady Salisbury was one of the very few women in England who could get away with such a reply however. Consuelo knew that protocol demanded four changes of clothes on each day of the royal visit, and had to buy sixteen new dresses in preparation for his stay, at vast expense (for some royal visits, twenty-six changes of clothes were required).
The Prince of Wales was equally concerned about what he would wear himself. A county ball was proposed as part of the entertainments, triggering a letter from Lord Knollys asking whether it would be in uniform ‘as if Yeomanry Officers do come in uniform [the Prince of Wales] would propose wearing the uniform of the Gloucestershire Hussars of which regt he has recently become Honorary Colonel’.41 On being told that uniforms would be worn, Lord Knollys wrote again a few days later saying that the Prince thought that though officers in the army, militias and yeomanry might come in uniform, he thought volunteer officers need not wear it, and reminded the Marlboroughs that civilians should wear ordinary evening dress, as ‘knee breeches are only worn in country houses where the sovereign is present’.42 In the event, the ball was cancelled. Consuelo’s grandmother, Maria Kissam Vanderbilt, died in early November, shortly before the royal visit, and as a concession to mourning it was decided that the ball should be replaced by a concert. ‘I expect the American press will be very nasty – but as they always are it does not matter,’ wrote Lady Randolph Churchill to Winston in India on 13 November.43
On the first day of the royal visit, 23 November, the citizens of Woodstock demonstrated their loyalty (for the second time in a year) with illuminated triumphal arches in the market square, decorations at the station, and welcome banners in the town. The Fair Rosamund was garlanded once again. The royal party and the guests who travelled with them (‘rather cross most of us’, according to Arthur Balfour44) were greeted by the Duke at Woodstock
station, where the Blenheim fire brigade formed a guard of honour and church bells rang out. Jackson’s Oxford Journal noted that the crowds were smaller than at the homecoming of the Duke and Duchess, and its reporter thought there was less cheering too. Fortunately ‘the waving of handkerchiefs from the windows, which were filled with spectators, and the respectful demeanour of the crowd made up in some measure for this omission’ and the Prince was not in a position to make comparisons. In fact he was delighted by what he saw, especially an illumination in the form of a ‘gas-lit device of the Prince of Wales’s plumes, with the letters A.E. in variegated lamps’, and he was heard to remark that the town was very beautifully decorated.45
There were over a hundred people in the house while the shooting party lasted. Apart from the Prince and Princess of Wales, it included their daughters Princess Victoria (whom Consuelo came to like very much), Princess Maud and her husband Prince Charles of Denmark; Mr and Mrs George Curzon; Arthur Balfour; the Londonderrys; the Duke’s sister, Lilian; the Earl of Chesterfield and Lady Randolph Churchill. The Marlboroughs made over their rooms on the ground floor to the royal party and slept upstairs.
The women spent most of their time dawdling, chatting and changing. ‘To begin with, even breakfast, which was served at 9.30 in the dining room, demanded an elegant costume of velvet or silk. Having seen the men off to their sport, the ladies spent the morning round the fire reading the papers and gossiping. We next changed into tweeds to join the guns for luncheon, which was served in the High Lodge or in a tent. Afterwards we usually accompanied the guns and watched a drive or two before returning home. An elaborate tea gown was donned for tea, after which we played cards or listened to a Viennese band or to the organ until time to dress for dinner.’ The Marlboroughs had imported Herr Gottlieb’s Viennese orchestra, which played at teatime while the ladies played cards. The musical programme for the week was designed by the distinguished Blenheim organist, Mr Perkins, who gave recitals to the guests. After tea the ladies changed again into evening dresses and ‘a great display of jewels’.46 In retrospect it all struck Consuelo as a tremendous waste of time.