All That Glitters is Not Gold

The “Gilded Age” of the 1890’s was an era of rapacious greed and obscene affluence. I see similarities with today when money — whether gained legally or illegally — is the primary focus for some people.
Super-rich New Yorkers who built summer “cottages” in Newport, Rhode Island, make today’s rich look downright middle class! William Vanderbilt, heir to an enormous railroad fortune, and his wife built the Breakers which had 70 rooms and 65,000 square feet at a cost of $335 million in today’s money. How’s that for a summer home?
Here’s the story of a poor little rich girl’s life as told in The Glitter and the Gold: Alva Vanderbilt made their daughter, Consuelo, wear a device with a steel rod to develop a straight back and whipped her with a riding crop for the slightest misconduct. Predictably, Consuelo fell in love with someone who didn’t meet her mother’s exacting standards, and an end was put to that. Instead, Alva chose the Duke of Marlborough of the Spencer-Churchill family even though Consuelo and he didn’t love one another. Alva locked Consuelo in her room, took to her bed and said that she was dying in order to get that job done.
This was a marriage of convenience: The Spencer-Churchills were broke and in danger of losing Blenheim Palace, one of the largest houses in England that was built to honor the first Duke for his victory at Blenheim. They had to sell their library of 18,000 books and their art that included a Rubens that went to the Cosmopolitan Museum. Consuelo’s mother got the social status that she craved, and the Duke of Marlborough got a transfusion of the equivalent of $67 million in today’s money in railroad stocks, plus a yearly income of $100,000 each for him and Consuelo.
One of the most enjoyable things about Downton Abbey is that it parallels real history. The Earl’s wife’s father paid millions of dollars as a dowry which saved Downton Abbey. In this case, the Earl and his wife came to love each other greatly. The English called the American women who bought their way into the aristocracy “the buccaneers.”
Consuelo’s mother made a miraculous recovery, and the bride whom the Duke bluntly informed that he loved someone else, wept behind her wedding veil. At the age of nineteen — think of it! — Consuelo became the mistress of Blenheim Palace where Winston Churchill had been born.
She soon learned that strict codes governed both master and servant. When she asked the butler to light a match and start the fire in her bedroom he replied, “I’ll call a footman, Madam.” She replied, “I’ll do it myself.” Most of her time was spent entertaining as the Duke was very “social” and changing clothes several times a day. At one shooting party alone, the guests killed 6,000 rabbits in one day.
The Duke carried on an affair with one of Consuelo’s “friends.” This wasn’t unusual in the aristocracy. In some great houses the servants rang a gong early in the morning to alert guests at house parties to return to their proper rooms. A woman advised Clementine Churchill to take a lover who’d help Winston’s career. Consuelo left the Duke after a few years — not the done thing at that time — divorced him when their son was grown and married again for love. The Duke married his mistress.
I wouldn’t want to live the life of Consuelo Vanderbilt or that of the owners of Downton Abbey. How would you like to have a servant help you pull up your knickers or your trousers or have to wear an evening gown or white tie and tails every night for dinner? I would also hate being enslaved by the rigid conventions of that time. Next week: No glitter, no gold. williamclarke@comcast.net