April 1895, New York
‘I must say I think this business very cruel, but at the same time I can’t help thinking she deserved a snubbing as she told me she had £20,000 a year and would have more.…’ – LADY WALDEGRAVE
Minnie Paget would have digested the news of the recent abundance of transatlantic marriages over breakfast in New York, where she had been busy attending to aspects of her mother’s affairs. Sir Bache Cunard’s hasty marriage to Maud Burke garnered a knowing smile from Minnie, for she would have recognised an enterprising nature when she saw one. Little, sprightly, young Maud had shown hers when she encouraged Cunard to make it official before he had any chance to change his mind. Minnie wondered what the future held for the newlyweds. They seemed wildly unsuited, but it was now up to Maud to carve her place out in England, as those who had come before her had had to do.
The wedding of Mary Leiter to George Curzon on 22 April was more interesting. The newspaper had reported on the crush of spectators on the sidewalks of Lafayette Square, Washington DC, outside the church, all keen to see their most popular belle married into the aristocracy. The peach and apple trees had been in full bloom and the fine weather provided a beautiful spring day for the bride to arrive in an open carriage, poised, smiling at the crowds. The regal overtones were not lost on Minnie, something she knew George would have directed. She had heard that he had been immensely involved in the preparations, no doubt keen to display Mary’s ample fortune. Until now, George hadn’t had the luxury of spending money without the ever-present shadow of guilt looming over him. Minnie knew he would be enjoying the loosening of the purse strings, so that he could put on a display befitting the Curzon name. She wondered whether Mary, a rather sweet and deferential girl, was really ready for a life spent living up to George Curzon’s high expectations. Tracking the progress of her compatriots would provide a useful diversion for Minnie while she decided what to do with her mother’s Newport and New York properties and concluded her affairs as quickly as possible.
It had been a couple of weeks since Marietta’s death and the visceral pain she felt whenever she thought about her still plagued Minnie’s days and nights. It was a loss she wasn’t sure she could recover from, for Marietta had almost been more than her mother. She had been her friend, co-conspirator, fiercest champion and harshest critic, and a life without her unique and incisive observations was unthinkable – yet here it was. New York society had continued unabated by the absence of one of its most influential matrons. The social whirl forged ahead, the press reported the latest gossip and of course there were the weddings. So long a source of preoccupation for Marietta and Minnie, it almost seemed improper for the spring wedding season to have begun in earnest without Marietta being at the top of every guest list in town.
For many years Marietta had been a constant presence at the churches on Fifth Avenue during the spring and autumn, which in society were considered the most advantageous times to schedule any nuptials. To Minnie, who had by now attended more weddings than she cared to remember, it made perfect sense. Prominent New York families always based their decisions on the accepted routine of society as a whole, ensuring that entertainments and celebrations coincided with the most practical time of year for extended family and associates to attend. It was now accepted that marrying off a son or daughter or two provided the perfect opportunity to highlight social prominence. Balls and dinner parties were given every Season, as standard, by elite members of The Four Hundred, but a wedding and the chance to parade a family’s wealth while the rest of society was forced to extol the merits of the union was something the residents of Fifth Avenue could not resist.
Before Marietta’s death, Minnie had consulted her on the potential matches due to come to fruition in New York in the spring. Marietta had been confident of a particularly busy round of events and anticipated her dominant role in proceedings. For the Stevenses a wedding didn’t just provide the opportunity to bask in the victory of a job well done, it was also a productive platform for eliciting further business, since much could be gleaned from a whispered conversation here and an innocent comment there. Now that Marietta had gone so unexpectedly, Minnie felt adrift. The usual method whereby Marietta identified heiresses hungry for an English title, assessed their capabilities and mettle for such an enterprise and then handed them over to Minnie, had been successful and had created a healthy income which allowed them the financial freedom from men they had always craved.
It had seemed that 1895 was shaping up to be their most promising year, but now she wasn’t sure how to proceed. She had the Vanderbilt project quietly bubbling away, which could be her greatest triumph yet, and there was no doubt that her husband’s brother Almeric was looking like an attractive prospect for young New York heiress Pauline Whitney. Minnie knew that Marietta had always been fond of Almeric and had also seen it as her duty to find a gentleman suitable for Pauline when Flora, Pauline’s mother and Marietta’s close friend, had died. So Minnie now focused her efforts on Pauline’s behalf, because that was a marriage that simply had to go ahead. Beyond the Vanderbilts and the Whitneys, it felt almost unseemly to make further plans; besides, it was Marietta who had always been the unstoppable force propelling her and the matchmaking enterprise forwards.
When Paran Stevens had died in 1872, it was Minnie’s mother who had made the fateful decision to leave New York. Despite years knocking on the door of Mrs Astor’s high society, Marietta had been barred from the most exclusive drawing rooms. The high priestess of Old New York had decreed that the Stevens family, with their dreadfully vulgar chain of hotels, were simply not refined enough for polite society. They were unconventional and outwardly ambitious, and Marietta had only made her task more problematic when she had introduced her Sunday-night musicales. Marietta had known that, despite her successes with their husbands, society’s matrons would never receive her if she didn’t do something drastic. She would need to force them into acceptance and it occurred to her that Minnie might be her passport to Mrs Astor.
Minnie had been a willing student. She had a core of steel like her mother and had watched from the sidelines as her parents had been cast aside by society because they lacked good breeding. This treatment had fuelled her desire for more – more connections, more money and more respect – and she had used this objective to galvanise herself into becoming a model student at Madame Coulon’s school, where she met the rebellious and tenacious Alva Smith and the beautiful Consuelo Yznaga. Minnie’s most pressing task had been to acquire a husband with a title, as instructed by her mother. A title, something not obtainable in America, would place her in an enviable position. Marietta knew that her compatriots couldn’t resist a viscount or preferably a duke. She had witnessed the fervour that had been created by the Prince of Wales’s visit in 1860 and how all of New York had clamoured for just a glimpse of Bertie. If she could manage to acquire just a pinch of that social gold dust then victory would be hers. After a lengthy stay in Paris, Minnie and Marietta had made their way to London, where Minnie was presented at court by Lady Suffield and Marietta quickly re-established contact with the Prince of Wales, who had been so impressed by the hospitality he had received at the Fifth Avenue Hotel over a decade earlier.
The irrepressible Bertie was immediately charmed by the articulate and engaging Minnie and began inviting her to Marlborough House and the Prince and Princess of Wales’s country estate, Sandringham in Norfolk.
‘We are staying in this charming house where I always think the host and hostess shine in their brightest light,’ Minnie wrote in a letter to a friend about a Christmas visit to Sandringham. ‘Wednesday we went out hunting, it poured in torrents from ten to four in the afternoon, and yet we remained out the whole day… Thursday, there was a servants’ ball when we danced reel and jigs until five in the morning… Friday was the Xmas tree, the Prince and Princess gave me the most lovely presents, afterwards we had the loving cup and the mistletoe which occasioned many jokes and laughter.’1
Minnie had quickly established herself at the heart of the Marlborough House Set, and was confident that her position and obvious charms were likely to attract aristocratic gentlemen keen to secure a wealthy wife. ‘That Lady Paget, while still Miss Stevens, should have succeeded in becoming a member of the most exclusive section of this brilliant and “cliquey” society, must be attributed entirely to her intelligence and charm,’2 Bertie’s biographer, J P C Sewell, wrote when recalling Minnie’s swift rise to the top.
Initially, the strategy seemed to work, and Minnie received plenty of attention from aristocratic gentlemen, with possible suitors including Lord Rossmore, Lord Newry and Lord Hay. However, Minnie and Marietta were convinced she could do better. Given time, they would surely cross paths with a gentleman of greater social standing than a lord. Jennie Jerome, Minnie’s friend from Paris and fellow heiress, had secured Lord Randolph Churchill in 1874 and Marietta felt certain that Minnie, with the right kind of direction, could be counted on to supersede her friend. And of course there were the rumours about Consuelo Yznaga having captured the heart of Kim, Viscount Mandeville. If she married him, she would become the Duchess of Manchester one day. Minnie simply had to do better.
However, the seasons moved on. Minnie travelled from country estates to town houses, sparkled at balls and entertained at dinners, yet a proposal of note wasn’t forthcoming. After returning to New York for Consuelo’s wedding to Kim in 1876 and successfully navigating a summer in Newport, Rhode Island, Marietta and Minnie recognised that time was running out.
Minnie was exceedingly popular with eligible bachelors in America. ‘All the handsomest men adored her,’3 remembered Frederick Martin. But, having tasted the glamour and distinction that London society offered, Marietta was determined to find a titled gentleman for Minnie and quickly ‘intimated to him that she had other views for her daughter’.4
It was usual practice for a debutante to be ‘out’ in society for only a couple of Seasons before marrying. Now in her early twenties, Minnie increasingly appeared to have been left on the shelf. Marietta decided to travel to France and use her connections there – after all, her sister Fanny Reed was now resident in the French capital and her musical talents ensured that the very best of Parisian society flocked to her concerts, just as they had in New York. The Duc de Guiche, son of the influential Duc de Grammont, looked like an intriguing prospect for Minnie and immediately she went to work, winning him over with her flirtatious and lively conversation. The couple began spending time together and it began to look as if Marietta might get her titled son-in-law after all. To hasten a decision, she skilfully put it about that Minnie’s dowry was considerable. She knew how the French aristocracy were suffering after the Franco-Prussian war of 1870 and felt certain that if the Duc de Grammont thought that Minnie’s large fortune would regenerate the ailing family finances, he would cajole his son into a proposal.
Marietta was right: the attraction of an American heiress proved too much of a temptation for the Duc and he encouraged the courtship. However, she had underestimated the French aristocrat and did not foresee him dispatching one of his business associates to New York to ascertain just how much of a fortune the young lady known as the ‘Great Heiress’ would provide. Marie Corelli wrote about the position European aristocrats found themselves in when faced with an heiress who claimed she could furnish them with a large fortune:
‘… the American girl arrives as more or less of a financial mystery. She may have thousands – she may have millions – he can never be quite sure. And he does all he can to ingratiate himself with her and give her a good time “on spec”. To begin with, while he makes cautious and diplomatic enquiries. If his hopes rest on a firm basis, his attentions are redoubled – if, on the contrary, they are built on shifting sand, he gradually diminishes his ardour… and “fizzles” away.’5
When the Duc de Grammont mounted a shrewd and covert investigation into her fortune it was discovered that the Stevenses had overestimated Minnie’s dowry. The Duc immediately withdrew his support for the union and the Duc de Guiche’s daily calls on Minnie ceased. The rumour mill on both sides of the Atlantic went into overdrive, with Mrs Adair writing to Lady Waldegrave on the subject: ‘Did you hear of the Duc de Grammont having a man of business in New York to go thoroughly through her affairs, and finding out she has really only £5000 a year which he did not consider sufficient for the Duc de Guiche… her mother must have mismanaged her property dreadfully to have reduced it so much.’6
It didn’t happen often to the Stevens women, but this time they had gambled on the gullibility of one man who had proved them wrong, with disastrous consequences for Minnie’s future. It was a miscalculation that would haunt her for the next few Seasons, as she was forced to hold her head high and ignore the gossips who prevailed at every occasion she attended. In a letter to Lady Strachey, Lady Waldegrave wrote, ‘I must say I think this business very cruel, but at the same time I can’t help thinking she deserved a snubbing as she told me she had £20,000 a year and would have more.’7
The incident called into question Minnie’s character and her reputation, which had been carefully constructed but easily swept away. It was a mistake she wouldn’t make again. She was acutely aware that, among her American friends from Paris, she was the only one who remained unmarried. Alva Vanderbilt, while still on the fringes of New York society, now had unlimited wealth at her fingertips and Minnie knew it was only a matter of time before she was accepted into Mrs Astor’s ranks. Consuelo Manchester had managed to snare her viscount and, despite the fact that her father’s fortunes were plummeting and the Manchesters would not receive what they had been promised by her family, the Yznagas, Consuelo Manchester would become a duchess one day. For once Minnie was perplexed at the unfortunate turn of events. She was beautiful, clever and calculating enough to have manipulated her way to the heart of the Prince of Wales’s set, yet she had overplayed her hand and been left with nothing.
The Paris Exposition of 1878 was billed as the greatest the world had ever seen. The city was keen to put memories of the Franco-Prussian war, which had reduced Paris to ashes, behind it and, although it was still recovering from the ravages of war, the Exposition was seen as its chance to resurrect its international reputation. After Queen Victoria and Prince Albert’s Great Exhibition in London in 1851, Paris had staged two expositions in 1855 and 1867. The 1878 offering would be bigger and more impressive, covering a huge expanse of central Paris. It stretched from the Champ-de-Mars to a Moorish palace constructed on the Place du Trocadéro on the opposite side of the Seine via a bridge that was the result of an architectural competition to elicit the best design. It was full of innovations and curiosities, great works of sculpture such as the display of Bartholdi’s head of the Statue of Liberty (where huge crowds queued to climb the steps to her crown) and a sparkling demonstration of electric lights that illuminated the main concourses and fascinated visitors more used to gas lighting. An impressive hot-air balloon stood proudly in the Tuileries Gardens. Safely moored to the ground, guests like the actress Sarah Bernhardt, who was a ballooning enthusiast, would delight in taking trips aboard and imagine themselves floating away in its wicker basket.
Prince Leopold, Queen Victoria’s youngest son, was visiting the Exposition and Minnie used the opportunity to reacquaint herself with him. She had already established a friendship with Leopold through his brother, Bertie, the Prince of Wales, and now he wrote to Minnie from the chic Hotel Bristol to try and arrange a meeting: ‘The best cafe is Bignon in the Avenue de l’Opera. There are very nice private rooms upstairs.’8 On 9 June, Leopold wrote again to Minnie, thanking her for a gift she had sent him and imploring her to come to England. ‘You must come to England, I have set my heart on the project we have talked about.’9
It is difficult to ascertain just how close the friendship between Leopold and Minnie was. In any case, Minnie would have known that any affection for her on Leopold’s part would be meaningless, as Queen Victoria would never allow him to marry a commoner. However, it is a measure of how highly Minnie was regarded within the royal family that she received a constant stream of affectionate letters from Leopold, Bertie and other members for the duration of her life.
Prince Leopold and the Paris Exposition had provided a pleasant diversion from the heavy burden of marriage that was causing Minnie to become increasingly anxious. Her fate rested on her ability to attract a suitable gentleman but she remained adrift. Finally, she resolved to do what had been inconceivable when she had been a new debutante and the belle of London society. She turned her attention to an untitled suitor.
Captain Arthur Paget was the eldest son of General Lord Alfred Paget, chief equerry to Queen Victoria, clerk marshal of the Royal Household and Member of Parliament for Lichfield. The Paget family were certainly well connected and had been an integral part of court life for generations. Arthur’s grandfather was the First Marquess of Anglesey and had been the commanding officer of the Cavalry Brigade at the Battle of Waterloo. While there was no doubting the family’s aristocratic connections, Arthur’s father had no hereditary title to pass down to his son. He wasn’t what Minnie had imagined for a husband, but her ambition was quickly giving way to pragmatism and an innate understanding that at twenty-five years old, her time was running out.
In Edith Wharton’s House of Mirth, the main character, Lily Bart, contemplates her future after several Seasons without securing a proposal of marriage, causing her friend Judy Tremor to speculate that her reputation for flirtations with several different suitors had hampered her efforts to attract a gentleman. ‘She seemed to have raked up everything. Oh you know what I mean – of course there isn’t anything, really; but I suppose she brought in Prince Varigliano – and Lord Hubert – and there was some story of your having borrowed money of old Ned Van Alstyne: did you ever?’10 It was a situation that Minnie could well identify with.
Minnie had met Arthur through the Prince of Wales during one of her first forays into the Marlborough House Set in 1874. Arthur was handsome, intelligent and enterprising, all attributes that immediately attracted the opportunistic Minnie. He had been educated at Wellington School and purchased a commission into the Scots Guards in 1869, distinguishing himself on the battlefield in 1873 during the third Anglo-Ashanti war in West Africa. Afterwards, he settled down to a privileged life as one of Bertie’s most trusted friends and, through his passion for horse racing, established himself as Bertie’s unofficial bookmaker, placing bets for the Prince of Wales at race meetings so that the Prince’s integrity would not be called into question. Arthur attended to this burgeoning enterprise under the pseudonym Mr Fitzroy, until in 1877 the Glasgow Herald revealed his true identity, writing: ‘Mr Fitzroy, in whose name John Day runs, is a Captain Paget who is now one of our principal plungers.’11
He continued to buy thoroughbreds and together with Lord Marcus Beresford ensured a lucrative income for himself and a cordial relationship with the Prince of Wales that was to continue for many years. Minnie couldn’t help but be impressed by Arthur, and his endeavours marked him out as different from many English aristocratic gentlemen of the period who, barred from traditional employment, were content to run up large debts while relying on diminishing family allowances to fund their extravagant lifestyles. Arthur was not wealthy by any means and Minnie’s fortune had been exposed as much less than Marietta had purported, but the Captain had made an impression on the cosmopolitan heiress who found his industrious racing pursuits reminiscent of the business creativity of her father. Sometime between their meeting in 1874 and their marriage in 1878, Arthur proposed to Minnie and was refused. Minnie may have been convinced that she could make a titled match or perhaps Marietta’s ambition for her daughter ensured that the offer was not properly considered, but by 1878, after five long years as an unmarried heiress, the Stevenses’ resolve was crumbling. In June, Minnie’s engagement to Arthur was announced.
‘When I first asked you to marry me… my proposal came from my head. Now it comes from my heart,’12 Arthur was reported to have told Minnie, and when she wrote to Prince Leopold soon after, she confessed that she had held Arthur in high regard since their first meeting. Leopold, writing from Windsor Castle, expressed his surprise and obvious disappointment at the news, alluding to an intimacy between them that Minnie had actively encouraged.
‘But I am delighted that you are now going really to settle down in England. Arthur Paget is a most lucky fellow! And if you are fond of him & have been so as you say, for four years, I am sure that he is worthy of your choice – but what a shame to make a fool of me at Paris, as you did. All the Pagets are quite delighted… what does Mrs Stevens say? You know she told me at Paris I was to impress on you the necessity of choosing one… of your many admirers.… I shall send you a small token of friendship, which I trust you will accept, sometimes wear in remembrance of some of the happy hours we have spent together.’13
The Prince of Wales also expressed his delight upon hearing the news: ‘Pray accept my most sincere congratulations, & as we are such old friends you may be convinced that my wishes for your happiness are not a mere façon de parler [manner of speech].’14
Whether Prince Leopold’s relationship with Minnie was simply a close friendship or extended to a greater degree of attachment, it seems he was deeply affected by her impending wedding to Arthur. Two weeks after his letter of congratulations, Leopold, who was by now suffering from one of his frequent bouts of illness related to his haemophilia, again wrote to Minnie, this time enclosing a bracelet as a sign of his affection:
‘My dear Stevens,
I write to tell you that I send you herewith a small bracelet, which I hope you will accept, sometimes wear in memory of “Auld Lang Syne” – I fear you never received from me a letter of good wishes about a fortnight ago – I daresay you have heard that I am & have been confined to my bed for the past fortnight, with much acute suffering…
With my very best good wishes.
Leopold’15
Prince Leopold would always hold Minnie in high esteem, and even after her marriage he still wrote to her frequently, his letters filled with compliments. ‘You were much admired yesterday, I thought you looked better than anyone else. (Don’t be offended at my saying so.)’16
The fashionable St Peter’s Church in Eaton Square, London was the venue for Minnie and Arthur’s marriage on 27 July 1878. Equally fashionable was the time of the wedding, 3.30pm (previous custom had led most marriages to be completed with little fuss before midday). Minnie and Marietta, who had witnessed the excitement surrounding Consuelo Yznaga’s wedding, were keen to exploit the publicity potential of the big day and Marietta ensured that the New York newspapers were sufficiently briefed with the minutest details. The New York Times breathlessly reported, ‘The Anglo-American marriage which took place in London in Saturday will send a thrill of envy through some thousands of feminine breasts.’17
It was a testament to the interest the wedding had created that crowds of people turned out to catch a glimpse of the happy couple. No doubt they were also interested in the royal guests who graced the wedding with their presence. The Prince of Wales was of course in attendance, as were other members of the royal family: the Duke of Connaught, Prince Louis of Battenberg and Princess Louise. Minnie ensured that their presence was recorded for posterity when she asked the royal guests to sign the wedding register.
The bride drew gasps of appreciation from the largely aristocratic ensemble when she entered the church on the arm of her brother, Harry. She had been planning this moment for many years and was determined to savour it, as was Marietta, who could hardly believe the sequence of events that had taken them to this place and time in the company of the greatest royal family in the world. The meteoric rise of the Stevens family was not lost on the press either, which commented, ‘The man or woman who, 15 years ago, should have predicted that the daughter of the late Paran Stevens would have been married under these conditions, and that his widow would, on the day of the wedding, receive a visit of congratulations from the Prince of Wales, would indeed have been deemed a visionary.’18
Minnie’s magnificent robe of white satin trimmed with orange blossoms had been carefully chosen to accentuate all her greatest attributes and ensured she looked every inch a society bride with an impeccable pedigree. A delicate tulle veil fell over her elegant features, while six diamond stars glittered in her hair. Everything about the wedding highlighted the couple’s aristocratic lineage and good taste. Arthur’s best man was his old friend and fellow racehorse owner Lord Marcus Beresford and the Pagets had ensured the Dean of Windsor performed the service. The guests retired to the groom’s parents’ house on Queen Anne Street for the wedding breakfast and the pitch-perfect military band of the Scots Fusiliers played throughout. Marietta appraised the vast collection of wedding gifts, which lined the Pagets’ drawing room. Some Dresden china from Consuelo Manchester, a Louis XIV clock and candelabra from Bertie and a gold serpent bracelet set with sapphires, diamonds and rubies from the Princess of Wales. She felt an immense sense of relief. They had done it. Minnie was firmly situated in the bosom of the English nobility and although she had failed to win a title, Marietta firmly believed that her position was now assured and she had played her part too, as Harper’s Magazine observed some years later:
‘It would have been against all the rules had not Mrs Paget with such a mother, been possessed of brains, for one thing, and a supreme capacity for the arts of social generalship, for another. These she has, and in London… she has used them not less strikingly than did Mrs Paran Stevens in New York, and on a far bigger and more attractive stage.’19
Marietta knew that money would remain a preoccupation but it was also recognised that a lack of fortune was a constant source of anxiety for much of the English aristocracy and she was certain they didn’t have Minnie’s natural drive and intelligence to create an income for herself. It was the position and the access to royalty that mattered and Minnie had managed both. Never again would either Marietta or Minnie feel the icy chill of an inhospitable New York drawing room.
Minnie had witnessed her friend Consuelo Manchester be cast aside by her husband Kim as soon as her honeymoon was over and after the long periods she had spent in London, she was well appraised of the repressed nature of English upper-class gentlemen combined with their penchant for debauchery. Arthur was not your typical aristocrat. He was a soldier and, although for a man of his station that meant long swathes of time enjoying his own leisure pursuits, he believed he was honour-bound to his duty as a soldier, gentleman and husband. Within the first ten years of their marriage they had four children, the first, a son and the requisite male heir, followed by a daughter and then, in 1888, twin boys. Minnie had married for Arthur’s connections but also for love, and therefore their marriage was not characterised by the turbulence that plagued Consuelo and Kim. As historian Charles Jennings notes, ‘… the Paget relationship was, for all its workmanlike overtones, an advertisement for the apparently happy blending of American verve and finance with British caste superiority.’20
Now, alone in New York, Minnie longed to have Arthur by her side. Marietta had been very fond of her son-in-law and it pleased Minnie to see that she had left him five thousand a year in her will, as well as bequeathing the same amount to her sister Fanny. Naturally, Minnie was the main beneficiary of Marietta’s fortune and, although it was substantial, she knew that she would have to be judicious to ensure it afforded her and Arthur a country home where they could host weekend parties, a goal they had long held. The inheritance was welcome but it would not prevent her from continuing with her business. She understood now that although money had been the driving force behind the enterprise, gradually as the years had gone by, it had become a growing source of self-satisfaction. There was a delicious sense of accomplishment in introducing a fledgling heiress to society. The effort it required to impart the wisdom she had accrued during her long journey to matrimony was worthwhile when she witnessed a protégé taking her first steps on the ballroom floor at Marlborough House. It had given her mother great pleasure too and she was never more proud than attending a wedding or reading about a marriage in the press, with the knowledge that Minnie had contrived the betrothal from behind the scenes. She may not have her mother’s counsel to propel her endeavours forward in future, but she would still make her proud. The Vanderbilt and Whitney projects were already taking shape, but there were others to follow. Minnie just had to get back to work.