American spirit issuu
-
Upload
acc-distribution -
Category
Documents
-
view
218 -
download
1
description
Transcript of American spirit issuu
PART THREE
THE DOLLARPRINCESSES
The close of the 19th century saw a trend forAnglo-American marriages. Having made theirfortunes in the New World, the millionaires andbillionaires of America – and especially theirwives – looked for a way to become part of theexclusive social elite. The popular way to achievethis was to marry their daughters into theBritish aristocracy.
The American heiress would bring with her asubstantial dowry, so often desperately neededto underpin a disintegrating aristocratic estate.
In 1886, a New York newspaper reported thatonly two Dukes remained available for matrimony,and these were quickly snapped up: ConsueloYznaga became the Duchess of Manchester andMay Goelet married the Duke of Roxburghe. By1914, 60 peers and 40 sons of peers had marriedso-called ‘Dollar Princesses’; most unionsmotivated by financial need.
It is not surprising that many American ladies,wishing to become part of the English socialscene, threw their energies into the gardens oftheir English country estates, which played suchan important part in confirming the status ofthe English aristocratic family.
It was often American mothers who were keenest to launch their daughters into the world of
the European aristocracy, and Mrs Alva Vanderbilt, wife of the railroad tycoon William Kissam
Vanderbilt, was no exception. She was determined to get a title for her daughter Consuelo; if
Consuelo’s godmother, Consuelo Yzanaga, had become the Duchess of Manchester, there was no
reason why Consuelo Vanderbilt could not also become a Duchess. Mrs Vanderbilt went to great
lengths to achieve her aim. To keep her daughter from her childhood sweetheart and true love,
Winthrop Rutherford, she locked Consuelo in the family’s cottage at Newport and bullied her
into a marriage with ‘Sunny’, the very elligible, but cash-strapped 9th Duke of Marlborough
(1871-1934).
* * * * * * * * * * *
Blenheim Palace, The Duke of Marlborough’s country seat, had been gifted by Queen Anne in
1705 to the 1st Duke of Marlborough (1650-1722) following his victory at the Battle of Blenheim.
This magnificent building was designed by the architect Sir John Vanbrugh (1664-1726) with his
assistant Nicholas Hawksmoor (1661-1736) and, together, they successfully achieved a palace
equal to the grandeur of Versaille. When developing the landscape, Vanbrugh worked with Henry
Wise, master gardener to the Queen. Every detail within the proximity of the grand palace was
arranged and planted in the symmetrical French formal style, the height of fashion when the 1st
125
Previous pages: The Water Terraces.
Far left: The Duke of Marlborough and hissecond wife Miss Gladys Deacon on theirwedding day in Paris.MARY EVANS PICTURE LIBRARY
Left: Consuelo, Duchess of Marlborough, Sunny’sfirst wife. La Duchesse de Marlborough assise byPaul Cesar Helleu. PRIVATE COLLECTION; PHOTOGRAPH BY COURTESY OF
RICHARD GREEN GALLERY, LONDON.
CONSUELO VANDERBILT and
GLADYS DEACON at BLENHEIM PALACE
Duke of Marlborough moved into Blenheim in 1719.
A little later, when it was foreseen that the Duke was
approaching the end of his life, Wise took the
decision to transplant fully-grown trees in baskets,
and so achieve an instant feeling of maturity that
would be appreciated by Marlborough. When he died
in 1722 it was left to his widow, Sarah, to direct the
work on the estate, which she did with great success.
By the mid-18th century, horticultural fashion was
changing. Landscape designer Lancelot ‘Capability’
Brown (1716-83) was employed to make alterations
at Blenheim and create a landscape that would appear
completely natural. He swept away the formal
geometric planting, and between 1764 and 1774
planted the undulating 2,500-acre parkland with
ornamental clumps and fringes of trees including many
hundreds of beech trees. The sweeping vista was
dramatically transformed and King George III believed
the natural landscaping of the parkland of Blenheim to
be unequalled. It was also much admired by Thomas
Jefferson when he visited with John Adams in 1786.
Entering the park through Hawksmoor’s Triumphal
Arch from the carriage drive, the visitor comes upon
the spectacular features that Brown integrated to
compose a magnificent picture. The River Glymme
was dammed to form a lake spanned by Vanbrugh’s
bridge, and Brown contrived several captivating vistas.
The rockwork cascade at the end of the western lake
has recently been restored, and many of his
plantations have reached a magnificent maturity. The
scene is awe-inspiring and a permanent reminder of
the triumph of the first Duke of Marlborough and his
great victory at the Battle of Blenheim.
When the Marquis of Blandford (1756-1840)
became the 5th Duke of Marlborough he had not lost
the passion for plants that he had enjoyed with such
financial abandon at Whiteknights (see earlier chapter)
and he continued to indulge in vast expenditure. In his
first year at Blenheim he immediately set to work on
his new garden and when the gardens of Whiteknights
were stripped of their treasures, many of them found
their way to Blenheim rather than to the auction
house. In particular, precious plants from the
greenhouses at Whiteknights were transferred to
Blenheim’s Arcade rooms, greenhouse, and vineries.
The former Duchess’s Flower Garden was planted
with choice American hardy species, which were
among the Duke’s favourite plants, and the lawn to the
east of the Palace once again became a flower garden
with 20 oval beds, the planting of which he personally
supervised. Since his time at Whiteknights, the Duke
had been a disciple of Humphry Repton (1752-1818),
and kept the flower gardens separate from the park.
During the following years, huge numbers of American
trees and shrubs were also moved from Whiteknights
to Blenheim. There was further great expenditure
when random alterations were made to the grounds
and every ornamental bed displayed the rarest and
most costly specimens, admired for both their beauty
and botanic interest. Indeed, a watchman was housed
in a Swiss Cottage, from where he could keep an eye
on the valuable planted areas.1
The private garden that had been laid out by the
4th Duke was extended, and a new circuit walk and
an elaborate rock garden were created. American
plants were introduced and from the walk that led
down to the lakeside, the view across the water was
towards a terrace planted entirely with American
varieties of magnolias, peonies, azaleas,
rhododendrons, wisterias and a long line of tulip
trees. The import of 9,000 loads of bog earth to
provide suitable soil for the plants2 guaranteed
success. Unfortunately, the 5th Duke’s continued
extravagance eventually depleted his funds and as a
result, the Palace and grounds suffered a period of
intense neglect and decay. However, though noting
some deterioration since his earlier visit, the
horticultural writer John Claudius Loudon wrote in
his major work Fruticetum Britannicum (1838),
‘Among the planters of arboretums in Great Britain
during the 19th century, the first place belongs to
George, 5th Duke of Marlborough’. 3
* * * * * * * * * * *
126
From that time onwards, the various Dukes of
Marlborough have constantly striven to maintain the
standard of the parks and gardens and to follow
current trends in design and planting. There could be
no denying that the upkeep of both Palace and
gardens required a fortune.
When funds were low, the 8th Duke of
Marlborough married the rich American widow
Lilian Hammersley. Her fortune paid for the re-
leading of the 14 acres of Blenheim roofs, the
installation of central heating, as well as a boat
house.
Just one generation later and money was again in
short supply. So it was that ‘Sunny’, the 9th Duke of
Marlborough, went to America in search of a bride
and returned with the heiress Consuelo Vanderbilt,
whose ‘tin’ he desperately needed to spend on his
Palace and estate at Blenheim. The settlement was
$2,500,000 in 50,000 shares of capital stock of the
Beech Creek Railway, on which an annual payment
for life of 4% was guaranteed by Vanderbilt’s New
York Central Railway Company.4
In November 1896, the couple were married. For
Consuelo this was a disaster from the first miserable
day until their divorce, by which time she had done
her duty and provided the required ‘heir and a
spare’. Even after their divorce, the Duke had no
qualms about continuing to accept the allowance he
had secured, and this was large enough to enable him
to continue with his grand plans for the Palace and
grounds. Indeed, Blenheim would have been lost
without the annual Vanderbilt payment.
After Consuelo’s separation from the Duke of
Marlborough she busied herself with charitable work
in London. She soon found a small stone-built Tudor
manor house at Crowhurst, in Sussex, where she
could escape to at weekends and enjoy her beautiful
garden, which she managed with the help of visiting
friends. It was a truly charming country garden, and
very different from Blenheim where she had not
played an active role in gardening. At Crowhurst
there was a sunken garden and pool surrounded by
terraces, the air was filled with the scent of herbs
and roses, there was an herbaceous border with a
profusion of pinks, blues and purples and ‘in spring
the garden was gay with flowering shrubs and
blossom of peach and plum.’5
Both the Duke and Duchess remarried
immediately after the divorce, and Consuelo, happy
at last, at least had the satisfaction of knowing that it
would be her son who would eventually reap the
benefit of her family’s money. Consuelo married
Jacques Balsan; at their home ‘Lou Sueil’, in Eze,
France, having discovered a passion for gardening at
Crowhurst, she created a magnificent garden with
the help of the designer Achille Duchêne (1866-
1947), who had been employed by the Duke at
Blenheim. Together they created a formal knot
garden and steps ingeniously threaded their way
from terrace to terrace, rising up steep slopes
covered with luxurious seasonal planting; indeed, Lou
Sueil was to become one of the great gardens of the
Mediterranean.
* * * * * * * * * * *
Gladys Deacon was another rich American
beauty. She had been left mentally scarred by an
incident during her childhood. She was on holiday in
Cannes with her four sisters and her mother, who
was enjoying an affair with a gentleman by the name
of Emile Abeille. The couple were interrupted by
her husband, Edward Parker Deacon. Abeille hid
behind a settee in vain – he was killed by three
shots from Deacon’s gun. News of the tragedy
spread quickly around France, England and the
United States, leaving even the façade of the
marriage in tatters. The murder trial took place in
Nice and the jury found Deacon guilty of unlawfully
wounding Abeille, but without intent to cause death;
accordingly, he was sentenced to imprisonment
rather than execution.
Edward Deacon subsequently altered his will to
exclude his wife and set up a trust for their four
daughters; Gladys was provided with an annual
income for the rest of her life. Unfortunately, the
calamity hung over Gladys; a continuous battle
127
ensued over her custody and she was moved from pillar to post.
However, even at the young age of 14, she had already set her sights
upon the Duke of Marlborough, but when she read of Consuelo
Vanderbilt’s engagement to him she determined that she would
outdo Conseulo and find herself another Duke. However, in 1897
Gladys, who already by this time had quite a reputation, and had
developed a forceful personality, was taken to England to be
introduced into London society. And it was in London that she first
met the 9th Duke of Marlborough, himself. It was a meeting that had
surprising consequences.
Quite taken with Gladys, the Duke invited her to visit Blenheim and
she became a friend of Consuelo, who in her memoirs wrote: ‘Gladys
Deacon was a beautiful girl endowed with a brilliant intellect’.6 Edith
Wharton described Gladys as ‘an attractive and eccentric woman’.7
Indeed, Gladys was wonderful company and an asset at any party. As
well as becoming Consuelo’s friend, she became the Duke’s mistress.
In May 1921, Consuelo and Sunny’s marriage finally came to an end. By
June that same year, Gladys became the Duchess of Marlborough.
Whilst helped along by annual payments from the Vanderbilt
settlement, the Duke continued to work on his estate. Unlike
Consuelo, Gladys took an enormous interest in the development of
the grounds; watching and photographing every stage, including the
arrival of mature trees on horse-drawn carts and the statue of Venus
being lowered from a motor vehicle. The avenue in the park beyond
the Column of Victory was replanted and the lake dredged. Gladys’
favourite place was the rock garden created by the 5th Duke, where
she was often to be found at work dressed in gardening gear. Her deep
voice could be heard supervising the gardeners, directing the shifting of
rocks, adjusting the placement of steps and organising the planting of
the saxifrages to make the most of their mass of yellow flowers. It was
her visits to the Rock Garden that released her from the restricting
atmosphere of the Palace, and she would frequently eat a picnic lunch
at one of the Druid’s tables and distribute tobacco and chocolate to
the gardeners.
Sadly, due to a series of miscarriages, Gladys’ health suffered and
though in 1925 she gave up toiling at the Rock Garden. Even without
her attentions it grew to be quite spectacular, though it has long since
disappeared.
The two Water Terraces commissioned by the ninth Duke from
Achille Duchene and built between 1925 and 1930 are spectacular.
They were constructed on the west front and are linked by a wall of
128
The Water Terraces.
caryatids by Visseau and flanked by tiers of shells.
One day when one of the gardeners, Bert Timms of
Hanborough, happened to be passing, Visseau called
him aside and used him as a model. And so Bert is
immortalised in the head and torso of the
northernmost caryatid.
The faces of the two lead sphinxes that stand on
the second of the majestic Water Terraces tell a
different tale. The face of the Duke’s second wife,
Gladys, is recreated on the pair of winged sphinx by
W. Ward Wills, completed in 1930, which stand
elegantly brooding over the water gardens against a
backdrop of iceberg roses. Gladys was a beauty, her
face said to have been of the classical Grecian type.
Sadly, she was dissatisfied with her profile and went
to a museum to measure the proportions of the
faces of classical statues. When she found the noses
of the statues continued in an unbroken line from
the forehead, Gladys decided to have cosmetic
surgery to remedy the small indentation at the
bridge of her nose. Plastic surgery was then in its
infancy, and unfortunately the paraffin wax that was
injected into the bridge of her nose eventually
slipped down beneath the skin and ran to her chin,
causing an unsightly and permanent swelling below
the jaw. From that time onward she covered herself
with swathes of tulle arranged to disguise this
deformity.
From the Water Terraces, a driveway leads
southward towards the Arboretum, but before
reaching the magnificent cedars, the prunus and
yews, the eye is caught by the Temple of Diana, built
by Sir William Chambers for the 4th Duke in a
prominent position overlooking the lake.
Beyond the Arboretum is the Rose Garden, now
restored, where a delicious confection of roses in
130
Facing page: A wall of caryatids links the terraces.
Right: A lead Sphinx depicting Gladys, Duchess ofMarlborough.
Below: An ornamental terrace for the Sphinx.
every shade of red, pink and cream is held in geometrically-shapedbeds within a circle. In a central circular bed stands a stone statueof a solitary lady engulfed by a sea of roses. Surrounding thisextravaganza is a wrought-iron pergola dressed with rosesscrambling over its delicate ironwork, and skeins of roses linkingone post to another are underplanted with a froth of blue forget-me-nots.
132
Above: Skeins of roses link the delicate ironwork encompassing theRose Garden.
Right: The Rose Garden.
Winston Churchill, the son of Randolph Churchill
and his American wife, Jennie Jerome, was born at
Blenheim Palace and he spent a great deal of time
there. It was whilst visiting Blenheim that the dashing
young Winston persuaded his cousin ‘Sunny’ to invite
Clementine Hozier to join him at small party.
Clementine accepted and Winston offered to take
her on a tour of the rose garden the next morning; a
tour that was repeated in the afternoon. Interrupted
by a shower, they sheltered in the Temple of Diana and
it was there that Winston proposed to Clementine,
who later in 1908, became his wife.
Needless to say, English rose gardens were to
become a passion throughout her life, and many years
later she had a traditional formal English rose garden
created at their home, Chartwell, in Kent. The Temple of
Diana at Blenheim was restored in 1975, Architectural
Heritage Year, and plaques to commemorate the event
were unveiled by Clementine, Lady Churchill, by this
time the widow of Sir Winston Churchill.
134
To the east of the Palace is an area once known as
the 1st Duchess’s flower garden, which in time
developed into a Victorian shrubbery. This was
replaced at the beginning of the 20th century with a
parterre designed by Duchêne, now known as the
Italian Garden, though with a decidedly French
influence. The private apartments and the Orangery
now overlook the quartered parterre, composed of
swirling patterns of clipped dwarf hedges and
enlivened with roses. Box hedges, punctuated with
studs of topiary and ornamental orange trees,
surround the gracious, centrally-placed and gilded
Mermaid Fountain, the work of the anglophile
American sculptor, Thomas Waldo Story (1855-1915).
Sunny and Gladys’ marriage eventually failed, and
by June 1931 had deteriorated to a state of hostility;
the Duke died in 1934 before they could divorce.
Gladys lived on until 1977, sadly spending her last
days alone, first living in an isolated cottage, and then
in a nursing home.
135
Left: The Italian Garden designed by Achille Duchene andthe gilded Mermaid Fountain by Thomas Waldo Story.
Below: Topiary birds look to the Italian Garden.
The Secret Garden, restored by the present Duke in
2004 to celebrate the tercentenary of the Battle of
Blenheim, lies hidden away within the sweeping parkland,
and isolated from the formal gardens. Winding paths
thread their way along meandering streams; fountains
and waterfalls tumble into scattered ponds and only the
gentle sound of water and birdsong interrupt the silence
of the secluded and peaceful setting. Some mature trees
remain, and additional ornamental shrubs and trees have
been planted to bring springtime blossom and
harmonious autumnal hues. Gone is the pomp of the
awesome park and formal garden and it is a joy to the
136
The Secret Garden gives a relaxed and informal atmosphere.
visitor to discover this garden, built on a domestic scale.
Today, as well as the historical gardens, there are
pleasure gardens, a lavender garden, a maze and a
butterfly house, indeed, something to please every
member of the family. The Palace and its surrounding
landscape continues to be true to the description of
Lady Randolph Churchill upon her first visit in 1874:
‘Looking at the lake, the bridge, the miles of magnifi centpark studded with old oaks, I found no adequate wordsto express my admiration and when we reached thehuge and stately palace, I confess I felt awed.’ 8
137