"I would wait all night in the rain, to see Consuelo Marlborough get into her carriage." - Sir James Barrie

I can’t apologize for yet another post about Consuelo, Duchess of Marlborough, because I find her fascinating beyond the portrait she’s left us of a poor little American heiress bullied into a loveless ducal marriage. Consuelo’s memoirs are excellent for obtaining a glimpse into the opulent, extravagant and reckless life led by the wealthy and well-born on both sides of the Atlantic (and with trips to Imperial Russia and India under Curzon as well), but after reading Amanda Mackenzie Stuart amazing dual biography, Consuelo and Alva Vanderbilt: The Story of a Daughter and a Mother in the Gilded Age, one quickly gains the impression that Consuelo was not the victim of a pushy mother and a cold-hearted husband at all. Alva certainly did emotionally blackmail her daughter into marrying the Duke of Marlborough, and Sunny was a supercilious and arrogant English peer who may or may not have begun an affair with her friend Gladys Deacon during their marriage; however, Consuelo also indulged in her own peccadilloes.

Her first (alleged) lover was the French artist Paul Helleu. In her memoirs she describes him as a “nervous, sensitive man with a capacity for intense suffering that artistic temperaments are prone to…[h]e thought himself something of a Don Juan, and with his black beard, his mobile lips and sad eyes he had the requisite looks, but he was too sensitive for the role.” Helleu came to Blenheim in the spring of 1900, when Sunny was away in South Africa during Boer War. The artist sketched Consuelo in a number of elegant and intimate poses, the most interesting being a drawing of Consuelo sleeping on the couch with her little dog. Consuelo traveled to Paris in June of that year, where Helleu etched more dry-point pictures of the Duchess. An affair with the artist was possible in Paris, and Consuelo had an easy excuse for being in the city, for her father lived there with his second wife. Sunny returned home in late July, and by the following year, rumors about the trouble between the Marlboroughs began again, exacerbated by Sunny’s disappointment in being passed over for the post of Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, which he blamed on the American press, and therefore, Consuelo. It was in this thick, acidic atmosphere that Gladys Deacon came to stay with them at Blenheim Palace.

Charles, seventh Marquess of Londonderry, by John Singer Sargent, 1910, at Mount Stewart, Co. Down. ©NTPL/John Hammond

Consuelo’s second lover hit a bit closer to home. Charles Stewart Henry Vane-Tempest-Stewart was Viscount Castlereagh and eldest son of the Marquess of Londonderry. He was also a married man and father of two children–and happened to be Sunny’s cousin. In 1906, Consuelo and Castlereagh’s affair was hot and torrid, and shockingly, they hatched a plan to elope to Paris, a move which would have ruined both their lives, and the lives of their families, forever.

No doubt this man stuck in Sunny’s craw, for Castlereagh was everything he was not: tall, attractive, well-liked, and at the beginning of a brilliant political career. The fact that his rival was a close relation couldn’t have been more hurtful of Consuelo, and her plans to elope further inflated Sunny’s immense pride and arrogance. Rumor has it that he wired Consuelo not to return, but Lord Castlereagh’s formidable mother (the infamous Theresa, Lady Londonderry) stepped in and possibly involved the King and Queen into exerting pressure on them to end their affair. Lord Castlereagh returned to his wife, penitent and pitiful (she refused to forgive him for a very long time), but the rift between Sunny and Consuelo was irreparable, and they began to take steps towards separating, or even *gasp* a divorce.

The relations between Sunny and Consuelo were so strained by 1913, he did his best to meddle in her love life, and perhaps this is why Consuelo’s last documented lover before her divorce from Sunny in 1921, was another of his first cousins, Reginald Fellowes. The son of Sunny’s aunt Lady Rosamond and her husband the 2nd Baron de Ramsey of Ramsey Abbey, Reginald was born in 1884, making him a scandalous seven years younger than the thirty-six year old Consuelo. Reginald’s relations with the estranged wife of his ducal cousin was a major source of trouble within the family, both for his parents, who were desperate for him to marry suitable a girl of their choosing, and for Sunny, who stewed and stewed over her personal affairs. The relationship between Consuelo and Fellowes appears to have fizzled naturally, but it surely must have underpinned Consuelo’s intense desire to sever her ties with her bitter and vindictive husband.

Now, this post is not intended to slander or judge Consuelo’s personal affairs, but I’ve always found it very interesting that two of her documented lovers were her husband’s first cousins. Was it a coincidence? Was it true love (or lust)? Or was it revenge? Perhaps a mixture of all choices? Tell me what you think in the comments below!

Picture of Lord Londonderry: Source

In the summer of 1885, Karl Pearson founded The Men and Women’s Club with the aim to discuss “all matters…connected with the mutual position and relation of men and women.” Pearson drew his members from middle-class liberals, socialists, and feminists, and over the lifespan of the club (1885-1889), discussions ranged from sexual relations in Periclean Athens to the position of Buddhist nuns, to sexuality and its relation to marriage, prostitution, and friendship. In essence, The Men and Women’s Club existed to challenge the long-held norms for male and female interaction as well as notions of “proper” sexuality. In late Victorian England, where sexuality was seen by many as “base” and “animal” and ignorance of women’s bodies and all things concerning sex was widespread, discussion of such issues was indeed radical.

In 1885 Karl Pearson was twenty-eight, and an ardent eugenicist who believed that women were the key to national progress. In the club’s inaugural paper, “The Woman’s Question,” he reflected on what changes would occur should women gain access to education, professions and political representation. His treatise was ironically reflected in the make-up of the club, for many of the women felt themselves to be intellectually inferior to the men, who were of Pearson’s background: “radical liberal or socialist in their politics, and employed as lawyers, doctors, or university lecturers. They shared similar public school and Oxbridge backgrounds and were further linked through membership of the same West End men’s clubs: the Saville, the National Liberal Club, the Athenaeum.” Although a number of the female members were economically independent as teachers, writers or journalists, only one had been to university, and all but two were single.

The club’s constitution declared that it would meet monthly, consist of no more than twenty members, and be composed of equal numbers of men and women. They met in each others’ homes, although generally at the house of a male member, with half of the club’s thirty-six meetings taking place at the house of club’s President, Robert Parker, a barrister living in Brunswick Gardens, Kensington, the heart of respectable London. Once at the meetings, the men and women found it difficult to reconcile their gender privileges and marginalization, particularly on the subjects of the role of religion, emotion, and a woman’s individual rights and social obligations.

The club’s most famous female member was Olive Schreiner, a missionary’s daughter whose fictionalized account of her life in South Africa, The Story of an African Farm, made her a celebrity overnight. Schreiner was vocal in her challenge of commonly-held conceptions of female sexuality. Her belief that women experienced sexual pleasure intrigued the male members and horrified the female members. Pearson did propose that sex, even among animals, was never solely for procreation, but was also a “physical pleasure like climbing a mountain, but his support of uninhibited female sexuality fell short: like most “New Men,” who criticized and heralded the end of the patriarchal era but looked with fear towards the new feminist order, and was terrified and disoriented by any signs of female sexual agency in the flesh. Another bone of contention between the men and women was the former’s avoidance of taking responsibility for male sexuality vs the women’s attempt to encourage accountability. Not surprisingly, club members were not sexually adventurous and showed little enthusiasm for free-love doctrines.

The Men and Women’s Club disbanded in 1889, mainly due to the dissatisfaction of the men in the women members. In the eyes of Pearson and his peers, the women proved incapable of the level of scientific work the men demanded, they were serious but did not go very deep, and they were frustrating adversaries. By the end of the club’s existence, club meetings became increasingly deadlocked and stalemated, and neither side found satisfaction in the tone and objective of discussions. While most of the group drifted apart, crossing paths due only to their common social and political circles, Pearson went on to become the premiere voice on the “Woman Question” during the 1890s. His writings were read in Britain and America, and feminists on both sides of the Atlantic viewed him with much respect, using much of his rhetoric to push for legislative reform for women. Despite the short-lived club, its very existence was radical and startling, and very much a product of the late nineteenth century, a time when long-held assumptions and social norms were being challenged by men and women of all walks of life. The topic of female sexuality and gender roles remain today, but for this time, it was extraordinary that a small group of men and women could come together for four years to shatter norms.

Further Reading:
Science, feminism and romance: The Men and Women’s Club 1885-1889 by Judith R. Walkowitz
The real facts of life: feminism and the politics of sexuality, c1850-1940 by Margaret Jackson
City of dreadful delight: narratives of sexual danger in late-Victorian London by Judith R. Walkowitz
Banishing the beast: feminism, sex and morality by Lucy Bland
The facts of life: the creation of sexual knowledge in Britain, 1650-1950 by Roy Porter & Lesley A. Hall
Scandalous Lovers by Robin Schone

The typical Edwardian woman wished to see her name printed in the newspapers but thrice in her lifetime: at birth, at marriage, and at death. Fortunately for the press-hungry, a woman’s wedding was cause for pages and pages of articles devoted to announcements, details of the ceremony, and advice for the blushing bride. No more so was this seen than with the highly anticipated weddings of society women, whose trousseaux, bridesmaids, groom, and wedding gifts were newspaper fodder even for those invited! To regulate the demand for lavish weddings and press access to the impending nuptials, the already dozens of etiquette books on the market were supplemented by books devoted explicitly to pulling off a beautiful and unforgettable wedding ceremony.

The wedding customs of Edwardian England heavily influenced the fashion in America, though there were considerable differences in the former. By the late 1900s, afternoon weddings had become very popular, with 2:30 pm as the most fashionable time, despite the legally recognized time for marriage ceremonies being between 8 am and noon.

To counteract this legality, a special license was obtained (during most of the 19th century, only a few were in position to obtain them) from the Archbishop of Canterbury, after application at the Faculty Office–though a very special reason had to be given to meet with his approval. This license cost on average about £30. Two other options for marriage in England were marriage by “banns” and marriage by license. The “banns,” from an Old English word meaning “to summon”, were the public announcement in church that a marriage was going to take place between two specified persons. They were required to be published in three consecutive weeks prior to the marriage in the parish in which the groom resided and also that in which the bride resided, and both bride and groom were advised to reside at least fifteen days in their respective parishes before the banns were announced.

A marriage by license was a bit quicker, as either the bride or the groom were required to reside in their chosen parish for at least fifteen days prior to the application for the license, either in town or in the country. This £2 license was obtained at either the Faculty Office, the Vicar-General’s Office, the Doctor’s Commons, or at the chosen church where the bride and groom were to be married. On top of these fees,the officiating clergyman needed to be paid (usually according to the position and means of the groom), and the clerk who legalized the marriage required a tip. Interestingly, in Britain, all fees relating to marriage were paid by the groom, and most of the marriage details were left on his shoulders, including the purchase of the bride’s wedding ring and her bouquet, as well as the bouquets and trinkets for the bridesmaids!

In America, the arrangements and the details, if not the financial expense, of the wedding were largely assumed by the bride and her family, leaving the groom with little to do besides show up on the chosen date. The expenses of an American wedding could be heavy: for a church wedding, the services of the clergyman were requested and the church engaged for the date and hour appointed for the wedding. The sexton of the church was enlisted to have the church aired and comfortable for the impending nuptials. To him went the responsibility of making certain an awning and carpet were laid on the church floor, that a man was outside to assist guests from their carriages and maintain order, that another man was at the door to check invitations, and that a policeman was there to keep those uninvited away. To the sexton did much of the planning and preparation of a society wedding fall! Because of the superstitions held by America’s early settlers, weddings were frequently held in June, September, October, and January, though April was a popular month for city brides.

Roman Catholics prohibited marrying on Lent, and though Protestant marriages could be solemnized at any time, the old adage “Marry in Lent, you’ll live to repent” held fast, and that holiday was generally avoided. A nursery rhyme also influenced the day of the week on which a wedding was held–Monday for Wealth, Tuesday for health, Wednesday, best day of all; Thursday for losses, Friday for crosses, Saturday, no luck at all–though Friday was avoided as bearing the mark of Cain and also the stigma of Jesus’s crucifixion. The fashionable hour was high noon, though in imitation of the English, afternoon weddings were popular, and 3 pm was popular for winter weddings, and 4 pm in the spring. At one point in time, evening weddings were much in vogue, but fashionable society gave them up quickly.

The appointment of the wedding gifts were taken very seriously in the United States. The Gilded Age was truly gilded for a bride, with presents growing absurdly gorgeous, displacing the old Dutch custom of giving the young couple household items and a sum of money, and turning into a bold display of wealth and ostentatious generosity. Wedding gifts were displayed at the home of the bride two or three days before the wedding, and the bride and her mother hosted a tea as a way to thank those who sent presents–and also allow everyone to see the lavishness of the gifts sent to the bride. They were customarily placed on tables covered with white damask cloths, which were set around in an empty room to facilitate a tour of the gifts. This was in direct contrast to English custom, where wedding presents were sent to the bride’s residence immediately after the wedding and were supposed to be put in their rightful places and definitely not arranged for the purpose of display. The French did one even better, as the nearest of kin collected a sum of money which was sent to the bride’s mother, who spent it on the trousseau, or jewels or silver, or however the bride so chose.

The most important parts of the wedding were the bride’s gown and trousseau. The traditional attire for a bride was a gown of soft, rich cream-white satin, trimmed simply or elaborately with lace, a wreath of orange-blossoms, and a veil of lace or tulle. The skirt had a train, and except at an evening wedding, waists cut open, or low at the neck, or with short or elbow sleeves (unless the arms were covered with long gloves) were not approved for brides. A wedding gown was supposed to be sumptuous and of the most costly materials, for the bride was privileged to wear her wedding down for six months after her marriage at functions requiring full dress. The train averaged eighty inches in length, though very tall brides wore ninety-five inch trains.

The richest wedding gown was worn, naturally, by Consuelo Vanderbilt on her wedding to the 9th Duke of Marlborough. Of rich white satin, covered with flounces of point d’Angelterre, the court train was fastened to her shoulders and attached to the skirt below the hips, falling in a straight line to lie three and a half yards on the ground. It was edged in its entire length with a borner of rose-leaves tied by true-lovers’ knots (the irony!), wrought with pearls and tiny silver spangles. Accordingly, Consuelo’s trousseau was suitably lavish and just as detailed in the press, with Vogue publishing an illustrated article and the New York Times running nearly two pages to describing her lingerie. In her memoirs, Consuelo details the agony of “[reading in] stupefaction that my garters had gold clasps studded with diamonds, and I wondered how I should live down such vulgarities.” For men wedding attire was much simpler: morning dress was de rigeuer, though an etiquette manual published in the late 1890s detailed the declining fashion for morning wear by American men, who increasingly appeared at weddings in tuxedos.

The actual service was an equally lavish affair: the bride was driven to the church with her father, where relatives and guests awaited. Once the bride alighted from the carriage, the bridesmaids and ushers preceded her, two by two, as her father escorted her down the aisle. As the bridesmaids and ushers reached the lowest altar step, they moved alternately left and right, leaving space for the bridal pair. When the bride reached the lowest step, the groom took her by her right hand and conducted her to the altar where they both kneeled on an elaborate kneeling cushion. Formerly, brides removed the whole glove for the groom to place the ring on her finger, but by the turn of the century, gloves were made with a removable left ring-finger, to facilitate easy access. After the ceremony, the bride and groom marched down the aisle to a choir and strewn rose petals and were immediately driven home. The English fashion for wedding-breakfasts–where prior to the wedding the bride, groom, and their families, sat down to a delicious champagne brunch to toast the impending wedding–did not take off in America, and instead, a reception held after the wedding was popular. Nonetheless, the bride and groom took leave of their families and guests, and in England, were conducted in a four-in-hand to their destination, and in the United States, to the train station.

Widows marrying for a second (or third) time held noticeably simpler weddings. They were advised not to wear bridal veils, a wreath or orange blossoms, nor orange-blossoms on their gown, nor should they be attended by bridesmaids–though she could have pages should the wedding be a smart one. A widow could be given away by her father, uncle or brother, but it was optional after the first wedding, and many a quiet wedding did not feature the widow being “given away.” Formerly, widows married in gray or mauve, though it was later thought permissible for her to wear a cream or white dress, though some wore pale colors, with a matching hat or toque, and a bouquet comprised of mauve, pink, or violet flowers. Interestingly enough, the subject of a widow continuing to wear her first wedding ring was of importance, and etiquette advised the young widow to remove her first band, though she should not cease to wear it until she has arrived at the church. However, it was more usual for a formerly widowed bride to wear both rings for the remainder of her life.

The German custom of celebrating Silver weddings became a vogue in Britain of the late 1910s. The entertainments given to celebrate such an occasion were either an afternoon reception and a dinner party; a dinner party and an evening party; a dinner party and a dance; or a dinner party only, of some twenty or thirty covers. The invitations were issued on “At Home” cards three weeks beforehand, the cards being printed in silver with the name of the husband and wife, and the date and the time on them. Each person invited was expected to send a present in silver, and these were exhibited in the drawing room on the day of the Silver Wedding with a card attached to each bearing the name of the giver. At the afternoon reception, matters were much as at an afternoon wedding, with refreshments and a large wedding cake in which the wife made the first cut much as a bride would do. At the dinner party, the husband and wife went in first, followed by the guests according to precedence, and a wedding cake occupied a prominent place on the table. At the dance, the husband and wife danced the first dance together, and subsequently led the way into the supper room arm-in-arm, where their health was toasted. In the country, some Silver Weddings were celebrated in festivals ranging over three days, and balls, dinners, and treats were given to the neighbors, tenants, villagers and servants. At this celebration, the wife wore white and silver, or gray and silver.

Further Reading:
Manners and Rules of Good Society (1913) by A Member of the Aristocracy
The Book of Weddings (1907) by Mrs. Burton Kingsland
Manners and Social Usages (1897) by Mrs. John Sherwood
The Wedding Day in All Ages and Countries in Two Volumes (1869) by Edward J. Wood
Everyday Etiquette (1905) by Marion Harland and Virginia Van de Water