The Real Life Downton Abbey (5 page)

Enter the super-wealthy American heiress. The cash-strapped British aristocratic snobs take one look at the enormous dowries of the daughters of families whose millions have been made in the railroads, shipping, land speculation, stock market and banking in America – and buy into the idea of a marriage with an American heiress.

In turn, the wealthy American mothers of beautiful young daughters are desperately keen to buy into the aristocracy – for them, a title and a grand country house in England is the stuff of dreams, the pinnacle of social achievement.

And the snobbish tendency of the ‘old’, inherited money looking down at ‘new’ money from trade or business has not been restricted to these shores. Through the second half of the nineteenth century, a handful of grand, wealthy New York families who live in snooty splendour on inherited money form a tight little ‘upper’ American clique, the country’s social elite.

They’re known as ‘Mrs Astor’s 400’ – the number of wealthy people who can fit into the grand ballroom of the home of New York’s most powerful socialite family, the Astors. The 400 have always been acutely disdainful of outsiders. They hate the idea of their children marrying those who made their fortunes from what they see as the ‘vulgar’ pursuits of trade or
moneymaking
. But that kind of snobbery is on the wane in America, too. Eventually they too give into the reality – there is far too much new money sloshing around to ignore it – and their children start to marry into it.

So by the late nineteenth and early twentieth century wealthy new-money Americans have become equally serious power players in this ‘age of bling’, spending millions on vast mansions, jewels and lavish entertaining – tens of thousands of dollars are blown on one outfit for a big New York costume party – in many ways aping the style and fashions of wealthy English aristocracy. But with one beady, lingering eye on the one status symbol their money cannot buy: class.

In the years between 1870 and 1914, hundreds of rich American girls are put on display before the English and European aristocrats by their pushy, socially ambitious mothers – hoping to propel them into what could be described as a carefully ‘arranged’ but very grand marriage, where the
trade-off
for their ‘new’ American cash is a title and a big country estate and a heritage going back centuries. Shedloads of it. An estimated 10 per cent of aristocratic marriages between 1870 and l914 are with brides from the USA.

This ‘Desperately Seeking An English Toff’ system works in some cases. There’s too much money involved for it not to work, and these girls have a wildly romantic notion about marrying an English earl or a duke. But there are huge cultural differences. As a result, some liaisons are unhappy, loveless and occasionally disastrous: wealthy, pampered American girls already used to servants and the latest mod cons like central heating complain endlessly about how chilly and cold the vast, unheated English mansions can be. The very English characteristic of ‘putting up with it’ or being stoic about physical inconvenience or discomfort has never really played well across the Atlantic. And there is a persistent belief among the English aristocracy, that lasts well into the twentieth century, that the only way to heat a room is by a fire – even though the cost of installing the ‘new fangled’ methods of heating their homes is affordable for some.

American social princesses arriving into the English or Scottish countryside are aghast to discover that every time they want a bath in their chilly new stately home, a housemaid has to lug gallons of water up and down stairs if the kitchen is tucked far away in a different part of the enormous house. And, if they are unlucky, their day-to-day relationship with their cash-strapped English aristocratic spouse, often overly concerned with the cares of keeping the estate running, can be as chilly or remote as the house itself.

In the
Downton Abbey
marriage, the Earl of Grantham believes he has secured the future of his estate this way by marrying the wealthy American heiress, Cora, Countess of Grantham. They wind up with three daughters and no male heir. Yet theirs is very much a love match rather than a mere merger of interests. Was this typical? Maybe not. Consider the story of the marriage of the fabulously rich railroad heiress Consuelo Vanderbilt and her marriage to ‘Sunny’, Charles Spencer Churchill, the ninth Duke of Marlborough and owner of the 187-room Blenheim Palace in Woodstock, Oxfordshire, in 1896.

Eighteen-year-old Consuelo’s dowry (part of which was paid in railroad stocks and shares) is equivalent to US $100 million today. Newspaper stories at the time carry gushing reports about her bridal undies: her pink lace corset (with real gold hooks) and her silk stockings (held up by diamond-encrusted garters).

Yet Consuelo is a very unhappy bride. For starters, she’s in love with someone else. However, so desperate is Consuelo’s conniving mother Alva to up the ante socially by being mum to a duchess that Alva pretends to be dying in order to convince Consuelo to go through with the match.

Consuelo cries all the way to the glittering wedding ceremony. Some stories claim she’s seen weeping at the altar. In their carriage afterwards, the Duke, close to bankruptcy, blithely informs her he’s given up the woman he loves to marry her money. The honeymoon isn’t even over when he orders a hugely expensive refurbishment of Blenheim.

Two sons are born. But the couple separate, a great society scandal in 1906 – even the King has insisted they should not divorce – and it isn’t until 1921 that a divorce is finally granted.

So has the cash from the American heiresses ‘saved’ the British cash-poor, land-rich aristocracy from financial ruin? It certainly helped. Once you’ve sold off the family silver, your valuable art collection and other costly items to pay your debts the last thing you want to do is give up the house and the land.

But the big social changes that are already starting to bubble underneath the surface in the Edwardian years – the rise of socialism, the suffragette movement with its push towards women’s rights, and the growing political awareness of the needs of working people, pushed forward by the dawn of World War I – are far more significant in changing the entire landscape for the many, a tidal wave of change, if you like, than big windfalls of cash for the small but privileged minority.

And yet the innate snobbery of the aristocrats still prevails: many families still can’t help looking down their noses on these rich, youthful, usually high-spirited American girls whose manners are perceived to be ‘something between a Red Indian and a Gaiety Girl’.

In addition, the huge spending power of the American heiresses easily surpasses anything the British aristocrats have known. So there’s an envy factor in there, too. The American girls are much better dressed, for starters. They think nothing of ordering 90 dresses at a time in Paris, only to wear them just once. (Wearing things once, of course, means no one can ever criticise you for donning the same garment again.)

By 1914, 60 peers of the realm and 40 sons of peers have married American women. So some of those balls, lavish parties, champagne-spouting fountains and the other many indulgences of the ‘smart set’ that followed Edward VII were indirectly underwritten by the millions flowing from the coffers of the American heiresses, as well as propping up the existence of some of the country’s greatest estates.

In the time-honoured tradition of the ‘if you’ve got it, flaunt it’ set so follows the mantra: ‘If you haven’t got it any more, use other people’s money’. After all, with so much hectic social networking at stake, who was going to let the outdated rules and snobbery of the older generation stop them?

Yet despite all this big spending and trading of money for status, the mega-rich are not completely oblivious to the world beyond their own.

Outward appearances are everything. And while aristocratic families often treat their servants and those living on their estate as inferior beings from a separate planet, they are, at the same time, obliged to foster the general idea that they are moral guardians of the needy and less well off. They have to be seen to be conscious of their responsibilities to others. It is called
noblesse oblige
: if you are privileged and rich, you have a moral duty to public service and charity; it means you are seen to be putting your money to good use.

This idea – of patronising the poor with one hand, dispensing charity and goodwill from the Big House, and exploiting them with the other by using them as an astonishingly cheap labour force – promotes the centuries-old view of a paternalistic lord and master who is concerned about the wellbeing of his tenants. And in fairness, not all the big landowning families are cynical in their treatment of the poor people living on their estates; some genuinely do form good relationships with their tenants and want to help them.

Consuelo Vanderbilt, for instance, becomes well known for her devotion to the welfare of the poor people on the big Blenheim estate, and her concern for the wellbeing of her 40 live-in servants – a dedication to charitable works that manifests itself throughout her life. Yet the truth is, Consuelo is behaving according to all the rules and traditions that dictate the every move of a very wealthy aristocratic woman: the Edwardian mistress of a country estate is a key player in this demonstration of concern for the needy. It is her role and hers alone to be Lady Bountiful, dispensing goodwill locally, making visits and perhaps giving advice and hand-me-downs to the needy tenants.

Whatever her own feelings or views, the wealthy
country-house
wife is obliged, as an important duty, to visit the estate’s tenants regularly, raise money for good causes like hospitals or for the sick and needy, and involve herself in fund-raising for local events such as bazaars, in garden parties and important dates on the estate social calendar. Many throw themselves into their charity work – it is, after all, the only route for independent initiative and action available to them. Everything else in their life is determined by a rigid series of rules and regulations – even their socialising and lavish entertaining follows a very specific set of rules.

They can’t be housewives or mothers, even if they want to, because they have armies of servants to do all their work for them. Their family relationships, including those with their husbands, are all conducted in a rigid, pre-determined way. So while the Lady Bountiful role is a must for someone in this elevated social position – the other women in her social circle are usually equally involved in charitable works – it winds up serving a useful purpose: in the absence of a fully formed Welfare State, there is, at least, one resource for helping the poor.

Though both husband and wife have this duty to the community to fulfil, aristocratic men and their male heirs do not, as a rule, get very involved in the day-to-day detail of charity work. It’s very much seen as women’s territory. So in the midst of all the planning, running the household, socialising and emphasis on status, the mistress of the house must allocate time, in between shopping in Paris or organising (with a lot of help) extraordinarily extravagant, money-no-object dinners, to be a visible charitable presence.

Yet when you look at the tiny salaries the toffs are quite happy to pay their servants, you can only scratch your head and wonder about the hypocrisy of it all.

Servants are always seriously underpaid and over-exploited. Over hundreds of years, the poorest people are expected to be grateful for food and shelter, in return for what is usually incessant, hard physical labour.

They accept that their masters and betters rule their lives, simply because there are no other avenues of work. If you are at the bottom of the heap, you either starve or get on with the job in hand. And if you are fortunate, you get an employer who treats you with a degree of consideration.

In previous centuries, some country-house owners regarded the servants as part of the family. But by the nineteenth century this idea had started to fade, though it did survive in a few estates.

Until the nineteenth century, servants’ wages were paid once a year. But gradually this changes, first to quarterly payments then, by the twentieth century, it becomes monthly. Men always earn more than women; usually, a woman receives half of a man’s salary for an equivalent job. Depending on the post and the person’s experience, the wages can increase – a little. However, a very young inexperienced person going into service for the first time might not receive any money at all initially: just food, a place to sleep and clothing.

Things are starting to improve a little for servants by the Edwardian era, because although there is still strong demand for their expertise, different types of work other than service have begun to emerge. Even working long, gruelling hours in a mill, a punishingly unhealthy way of making a living, may be seen as a better option: at least you have a semblance of freedom – you get to go home at the end of the day. Comparing that against a life in service where you get half a day off a week and are restricted in your behaviour by a series of inflexible rules (more about these in Chapter 4) – and where the penalty for breaking a rule can be instant dismissal – it’s easy to see why even the nastiest of other working conditions are more appealing to many youngsters.