Where the Millionaires Lived

Every city pushes its seams and expands outward, gobbling up land to satisfy its growing population. So it was with New York City in the 1880's. Manhattan is an island with obvious boundaries. So the initial settlements on its southern tip could only move north. The neighborhoods that started as places for the wealthy to live (around the place that's now the Lower East Side) were a bit boggy and so were abandoned for dryer land up north. After the Civil War the wealthy chose the area around 5th Avenue and the Thirties to build their mansions. This is where the rich live in my novel Masquerade. 

I always enjoy basing a house on a real house, and chose the A.T. Stewart mansion that sat on the northwest corner of 5th Avenue and Thirty-fourth. It took over five years to build and when it was finished in 1869 it had cost $1.5 million. In today's money that's about $37.5 million. Pretty much beyond comprehension!

Doesn't it looks like a library? It was the first residential showplace in NYC and was deemed "palatial". This is the foyer and one of the bedrooms. All rooms shown here were figured into scenes in my novel.

Mrs. Stewart also had her own art gallery. She had a huge collection of artwork—that she mostly kept to herself. The art room was 70' x 30' x 50' tall. She and Mr. Stewart had no children yet lived in this 55-room house. He (like my patriarch, Martin Tremaine) earned his fortune by starting a department store: Stewart's Dry Goods. I'll go through details of stores of the time in a separate post.

An interesting thing about the Stewart mansion is that their neighbor to the south was William B. Astor II and his wife, Caroline, or THE Mrs. Astor. She was the head of New York society and her approval or disdain had the power to make or break people. And yet her house was a fairly simple brownstone. Here's a picture of it in 1897. It's the small building on the right. On the left is the original Waldorf-Astoria Hotel. It was built by William Waldorf Astor on the site of his family home after he decided to move to England permanently in 1891. It was built in great part to annoy his Aunt Lina who lived next door. A family feud over who was the head of society and all that.

As early as the 1870's, the encroaching commercialization of the area led the social set to move north to Fifth Avenue and the "Fifties" to build their houses. The bigger the better. The upstart Vanderbilt family created mansions that made the Stewart house look like a guest house. Some of these mansions remain--with new uses, but the Stewart mansion was demolished in 1902. Progress, you know.

And what now sits where the Astor brownstone and the old Waldorf-Astoria sat? The Empire State Building.

If you'd like to read more of my Gilded Age novels, try the sequel to Masquerade, called An Unlikely Suitor,  and A Bridal Quilt, which is in the novella anthology A Patchwork Christmas.  //Nancy Moser

How Women Kept Track of Their Stuff

*  A Note From Nancy *

I am constantly losing my keys in my purse, along with my glasses, my Chapstick, my pens...

Nanny whistle, pacifier,
and rattle in one

When I did the research for my Gilded Age novels Masquerade and An Unlikely Suitor, I discovered their solution to this age-old "losing things" problem: chatelaines. These pieces of jewelry were the answer to organizing a woman's stuff.  Whatever items women deemed necessary throughout their day were simply hung from chains and clipped to their waistbands or belts.

They were very specialized. Nannies had kid-stuff at their fingertips: a nanny whistle, pacifier, and rattle.

Seamstress chatelaine

Seamstresses had scissors, needles, thimbles, and bobbins of thread at their fingertips.

Maids mights have keys, scissors . . . hmm. I can't see the details on this picture. What else might she have on her chains?

Fine ladies might have a small purse attached, perfume, mirror, and pencil. Or a watch. They were made of sterling or gold, with semi-precious stones.

As a collector of antique purses, I can vouch for the fact that purses of the day held next to nothing, and actually, the wealthy ladies had no need to carry money or keys. They rarely went out without their men, so relied on them to carry such things. Chatelaines were a nice (and pretty) way to carry around some bulkier items--and to show off some gold and stones as an accessory.


Plus, when I think about the logistics of carrying a purse, I see the advantage of the
hands-off chatelaine. With bustles and gloves and parasols . . . a lady needed her hands free to deal with her clothes, getting in and out of carriages, holding up her skirt so as not to trip on stairs, and finding a way to sit and move through a room without getting caught on a stray table or Victorian gew-gaw.

Ah, the freedom we have in our fashion today!  But a chatelaine . . . it has real possibilities.

If you'd like to take a look at hundreds of fashion examples from the Gilded Age go to my Pinterest fashion boards:  Fashion of the 1870's  Fashion of the 1880's  Fashion of the 1890's  Accessories  Shoes of the Past  Antique Purses  Historical Undergarments  Enjoy!

A Romantic Stroll along a Cliff

*  A Note From Nancy  *

The Cliff Walk… doesn’t it sound like the perfect place for a romance, or a Gothic tale? That’s one reason I chose it as an integral element in An Unlikely Suitor. Walking along its 3.5 mile length with my husband conjured up images of Newport in its prime, during the last half of the 19th century…

The nice thing about nature is that the basics remain the same. And so the essence of the Cliff Walk remains much as it was so long ago. Considering Newport has been around since 1639, the original paths along the shore of Rhode Island Sound and the Atlantic were probably originally worn down by deer and the Narragansett Indians. When European settlers lived there, they would go down to the rocks to recover goods from ship wrecks.

For the sea could be harsh and the rocks along the shore were (and are) jagged and dangerous. Yet there’s something very exciting about walking on a narrow path with civilization on the one side, and the fierceness of nature on the other. Standing on the Walk, looking out to sea, the centuries fall away and you feel a connection with all that came before.

Newport began to be a summer haven of wealthy New Englanders as far back as 1850. As is the way since time began, people liked having a home with a view, and so homes were built along the edge of the ocean. As the century progressed, the first homes were replaced with palatial mansions that had grounds rivaling the lush estates of Europe. Instead of merchants and politicians building there, the extraordinarily wealthy “Robber Barons” of the Gilded Age took over: the Vanderbilts and Astors built summer “cottages” that were as large as twenty homes.



The Forty Steps

The Cliff Walk was a place for all classes. Although the wealthy lived along its edges, the servants who worked in those houses were free to use the Walk. At the north end are the 40 Steps. Here’s a photo of the wooden steps taken during that olden time. The steps ended on the rocks. It was a gathering place for the working class who would have parties where they’d dance and sing Irish music. Since that time, the steps have been improved, from wood to more sturdy stone.

Servants gathering
on the Cliff Walk

As the Walk gained in popularity, improvements were made a little at a time. Now, most of the Walk is paved, though there are still areas where you are virtually walking on rocks. But in the 1890’s (the era of my book) it was a more dangerous place and every year there were accidents and even deaths. I’ll leave it at that…



My husband on the Cliff Walk
telling me "How about this one?"

What did the rich home owners think about the lower classes walking within a hundred feet of their back porticos? They were not amused. At various times in history, the homeowners tried to restrict access. At one point they even dropped the Walk 12’ below the land-line so walkers couldn't see their houses. They’d plant bushes, put rocks in the way, or even use guard dog.

But many embraced the merging of their property and the Cliff Walk and made improvements, including nice walls to sit upon and bridges. The bottom line is the walk is a public place and all are welcome to embrace its beauty and honor its history. Go to Newport and take a walk.  You won't be disappointed.//Nancy

A Patchwork Christmas Collection

Quilts and Christmas.
There's no better combination.

A PATCHWORK CHRISTMAS

Stephanie and I (Nancy) are happy to announce a new novella collection by the two of us and Judith Miller. Three historical novellas that revolve around Christmas—and quilts! What evokes a cozier feeling than quilts? And as a bonus, in the back of the book are recipes and directions to make a crazy-quilt ornament, a pair of knitted Amana mittens, and a patchwork doll quilt!

• THE BRIDAL QUILT by Nancy Moser: A wealthy ingénue—the toast of 1889 New York—
inadvertently causes grave injury to a poor man who protects a street urchin from a rearing horse.
Remorse forces her to bring the man home, where she discovers he is someone she once considered quite a catch. Can she give up everything to love him?

• SEAMS LIKE LOVE by Judith Miller: Jilted by a faithless fiancé, Karla Stuke of the Amana
Colonies packs away her wedding quilt in 1890, her faith in men destroyed and her hope for marriage and children shattered. Until an apprentice pharmacist arrives in town. Does Frank Lehner have the saint’s patience he’ll need to change her mind?

* A PATCHWORK LOVE by Stephanie Grace Whitson: Jane McClure, widowed too soon, is headed west in 1875 to marry a prosperous businessman she barely knows in order to give her daughter a better life. Given shelter when a show storm strands them both, Jane worries that her chance is slipping away—and so does the homesteader who rescued her. Will she see what’s
right in front of her?

Thanks for visiting, and may your holidays be bright.

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My Chateau of Inspiration

The nice thing about writing fiction is that I have some leeway to use a place that is real as inspiration, without using it per se. That’s the case with the Chateau-sur-Mer in Newport, Rhode Island, the summer playground of the wealthy during the Gilded Age.

When I saw this house in Newport, I fell in love. It stands on a green hill, grand but not haughty, elegant without being cold. Until the Vanderbilts started building their mega-mansions in the 1890’s, it was the palatial mansion in Newport.

It was first built in 1852 then remodeled and added onto, twenty years later. It was built for William Shepard Wetmore who made his fortune in the China trade. Originally it encompassed 35 acres and had a sea-view. But later, some of its land was sold (and the Breakers built upon it), making this “castle on the sea” landlocked. William and his wife once had a party for 3000 in the house!

When William died in 1862, the house passed to his son, George, who eventually became the governor of Rhode Island (1885-1887), and a state senator (1894-1912.) He hired Richard Morris Hunt to transform the house—which Hunt did, starting in 1871. He changed it so much that many people thought the original house had been torn down. Hunt later was the architect on the Vanderbilt’s Breakers and Marble House.

I include Mr. and Mrs. Wetmore at a dinner party in Chapter 13 of my book. A little ironic twist that they are guests in the fictitious Langdon mansion inspired by their very real home.

There are five areas of Chateau-sur-Mer that I used in An Unlikely Suitor. I am very partial to wood trim (you would know that if you saw my house), so the paneling of the grand entry really spoke to me. Plus, the stained glass and skylight are stunning. I had great fun writing a scene where my immigrant seamstress character, Lucy, first walks into the house.

The second room I used was the French parlor—that I called Mrs. Langdon’s morning room. It’s notable because the wood paneling of the rest of the house is present there too, but Edith Wetmore had it painted white. As a lover of wood and its grain I cringed. But it’s a very feminine room in a very masculine house.

Third, was the Butternut Bedroom. I made this the bedroom belonging to my main character, Rowena. She’s very warm and unassuming, and I felt the color of the butternut wood suited her, and was a contrast to the formal, assuming, white morning room preferred by her mother.

The Library was another room that inspired a scene, a confrontation between a poor girl in want of a book to read, the heir, and a butler. I have a library in my house, with lots of wood and shelves, so I love this type of room.

Lastly, the back of the Chateau had a porch facing the sea. I created a scene that had Rowena painting a landscape on the porch, and it was also a place she could go to contemplate the drama in the book. (Note: these wonderful interior photos are from a great book about the mansions of Newport by the Preservation Society of Newport County: Newport Mansions.)

I added a room-sized dressing room for Rowena, and stables and outbuildings, as needed. But the spirit of the Chateau lives on in my fictional Porte au Ciel: Gate to Heaven.

When I visited Newport in 2005, the Chateau-sur-Mer was undergoing a restoration but is now open to the public. It’s on my to-do list. After all, the house and I have become very close.//Nancy

A New Book and a Contest!

It's always exciting to hold a new book in my hands, and my newest has finally arrived!  An Unlikely Suitor is set in the Gilded Age, 1895.  A New York seamstress, along with her sister and mother, help create a summer wardrobe for a rich heiress.  They end up in the summer haven of the rich, Newport, Rhode Island.  A friendship ensues, a bit of danger, and a lot of romance. 

 

I've talked about the book in earlier posts, and have begun sharing some of the insights into Newport and the sewing process that I discovered while doing the research.  I'll share more in future weeks.  Here's a woman who looks like Lucia Scarpelli, my seamstress...  I love finding portraits of people who match the characters in my head.  The fact she'd dressed ala 1895, and is sitting in a place that looks like Newport's Cliff Walk.  Zounds, I couldn't have imagined her any better!

I'm so excited about the book's release that I'm having a contest.  I'm giving away a vintage-inspired wooden box full of goodies (worth over $50), an antique piece of jewelry (that sparkles), and a copy of the novel.  Three winners.  All you have to do is leave a comment to this blog entry and tell me the era of history you most like to read about.  Who knows?  Maybe I'll choose that time in history as a setting in a future novel.  Or you can also enter on my website at www.nancymoser.com or on my Facebook page.  I'll draw the three winners on May 15.

Also, just a note... if you like the book I'd sure appreciate you spreading the word, and leaving a review on one of the online bookstores like Christianbook.com, Amazon.com, or barnesandnoble.com.  If you don't like the book, shhh!   Just kidding.  You're welcome to give your true opinion.

Thank you ever so much for your readership!  Without you, I'm writing to the wind.//Nancy 

The Breakers

Summer “cottage” my foot. Yet that’s what the wealthy set of the Gilded Age called their mega-mansions in Newport.

The Breakers is the largest of these mansions and is used in the climax of my novel An Unlikely Suitor. Encompassing 65,000 square feet of living space (not to mention the cubic feet) it’s the size of thirty homes in one—and one family lived in it. A little about them: 

Cornelius Vanderbilt II
by John Singer Sargent

Cornelius Vanderbilt II was the grandson of the Commodore who ignited the Vanderbilt fortune decades earlier by getting into steamships and railroads. Cornelius was the favorite grandson and was bequeathed $5 million upon his grandfather’s death in 1877. When his father (William Henry) died in 1885, he received $70 million. Quite the nest egg. But C-2 didn’t sit around doing nothing. He took over the helm of the his family’s railroad legacy.


But backing up…C-2 met his wife Alice Gwynne while they were teaching Sunday school. They married in 1867 and had four sons and three daughters. Mrs. Vanderbilt was a leader in New York Society. Here’s a picture of her at one of her costume balls in 1883, dressed as "Electric Light".

This portion of the Vanderbilt family was very generous and gave to many charities including the YMCA, Salvation Army, Red Cross, their churches, as well as donating Vanderbilt Hall at Yale in memory of their son William, who died of typhus while in his junior year there in 1892. I think it's important to note that when C-2 died he had not added to his fortune, but had given away what he had made over his lifetime. We’re talking millions.

Breakers 1909



When they built the Breakers they had five living children, aged 9, 15,18, 20, and 22. The first Breakers burned to the ground in 1892. Its replacement was started a year later, and finished the year of my novel, 1895. But Mr. Vanderbilt suffered a bad stroke the following year, so this was the only year the Breakers was fully enjoyed by Alice and Cornelius. The 70-room mansion purportedly cost $7-12 million to build ($150-260 million in today’s dollars.)



Alice and daughter Gertrude

 Because the first house had burned down (as did many houses in the Gilded Age due to the use of open flame lighting and fireplaces) C-2 was determined the new house not suffer the same fate. And so he built the house without the use of wood. It used steel trusses, and C-2 even had the furnace placed away from the house, under the street. Set on 13 acres, commanding a view of the sea, the Breakers represents the epitome of Gilded Age extravagance with Italian and African marble.

Dining Room

The Music Room is decorated in real gold, and the Dining Room has columns of alabaster. Richard Morris Hunt was the architect. Looking at the detail…the artistry… I have a degree in architecture, but I can’t imagine envisioning such design, much less finding people with the talent to implement it. And once you have the house designed, you have to furnish it! All this done in two years? It’s astonishing. How could I resist having my own fictional ball in this massive hall? (below) 

Neily and Grace
Vanderbilt



When the Breakers was finished in 1895, the Vanderbilts were going through a bit of a personal crisis, as their son Cornelius III (Neily) had fallen in love with Grace Wilson, who had been secretly engaged to his older brother Bill, before Bill died of typhoid. In spite of his parents’ objections, Neily and Grace were married in 1896 and were cut out of the will. They were married their entire live. Neily’s mother didn’t reconcile with him until 1926.

  

Morning Room

Alfred, the third Vanderbilt son, died in the sinking of the Lusitania. Next son, Reginald, was the father of Gloria Vanderbilt—the grandmother of journalist Anderson Cooper. Daughter Gertrude married Harry Payne Whitney and became a patron of art and formed the Whitney Museum of American Art in 1931. She was also a sculptor and designed the Titanic monument in Washington, D.C., honoring the men who gave their lives so women and children could be saved. Their youngest daughter became a countess by marrying Hungarian Count László Széchenyi.

 

Gladys Vanderbilt
by John Singer Sargent

C-2 didn’t have long to enjoy the Breakers. He had his first stroke the year after it was finished, and died in 1899 from a cerebral hemorrhage from a second stroke at the young age of 55.

  

He left the home to his wife, who left it to Gladys—who always loved the estate. In 1942 she leased it to the Newport Preservation Society for $1, but in 1972, the Society purchased it from Gladys’ daughter Countess Sylvia Szapary for $365,000. The family still owns the furnishings. What a bargain! When Sylvia died in 1998, she left the estate to her two children, who continue to spend time there, up on the third floor, away from the tourists. Over 300,000 people visit the Breakers every year. You really should be one of them. Newport Mansions//Nancy

Displaying Women

While researching "Masquerade" I came upon a very intriguing book by Maureen E. Montgomery called Displaying Women: Spectacles of Leisure in Edith Wharton’s New York. The title fascinated me. Displaying women? It sounded so cold. Shallow. Chauvinistic.

And honestly, it's all those things. But the book is also very true to life. For in the Gilded Age—the last few decades of the 19th century—women of society were on display. Gowns and jewels were visible evidence of their husband's success and their position in the world. Hey, if I had those clothes and jewelry I’d want to show them off too. And lounging around in a room decorated with gilt furniture and paintings by the Masters sounds relaxing. 

The reality was anything but, because there was a catch:  women were trapped. They were expected to be pretty baubles on display. In fact, their status came about because they didn’t have to work. Being a woman-of-leisure was a position to be held, to be attained. Without aristocracy of our own, Americans found a sense of nobility in the outer trappings and in attitude. The attitude was based in the fact that the rich were in control of the most precious human commodity: time. Middle- and lower-class women worked. Hard. Twelve hours a day, six days a week. Their family’s survival demanded it. If they didn’t have jobs away from the home, they toiled at raising a passel of children under stressful and limited conditions. So to not labor, to not work, to not have to take care of their own children . . .  What the rich women possessed was an unlimited expanse of free time.  That was their most enviable luxury.

Etiquette stated that “deference be shown to women as a sign that the United States had a civilized society.” Deference involved putting them on a pedestal, treating them as china dolls, a prize gained as a result of the men’s hard work. Men controlled the money. What did women control? Society. They were the gatekeepers. No one entered without their nod, and people could be ostracized with the mere act of looking away. Newcomers went through an intricate process of vetting. It “included being sponsored by someone from within the ‘inner circle’. This was followed by introductions to members of society through a series of calls and, then, if the aspirants passed this stage, invitations to private and semipublic entertainments, such as dinners and subscription balls.” Hoops, hoops, and more hoops to jump through.

Charity was women’s work. Where in Europe charity was a family affair, in American upper class society, men made the money and women spent it—and dispersed it to good causes. Which in turn gave them status. Making small needlework items to sell in charity bazaars was an acceptable pastime.

Every moment of a wealthy woman’s day was regimented. From the moment she arose, the clothing she wore for morning, afternoon, dinner, the opera, a ball . . . it was all determined by those matrons of society who’d come before, women who decided what was what and who was who. Women’s lives lived by the “tea”, the “luncheon”, and going on “calls”—and leaving cards. There were strict rules of protocol that applied to each occasion. For instance, formal calls were between 3-5 p.m. and then for only fifteen minutes. And “When a married woman called she left her husband’s card as well as her own, and this was understood to imply that the husband was participating in the courtesy of the call. Mothers would also leave the cards of sons.” Men were not supposed to have time to “call”.

 

Rules about hem length, gloves, conversation, thank you notes… it was a full-time job for the women to keep abreast of all the do’s and don’ts. There are scenes in the movie, “Age of Innocence” where the rebellious Ellen creates a stir when she dares to cross a room to talk to a gentleman, she crosses her leg and reveals her ankle, and she smokes a cigarette. When bicycles first became available to women, the female riders often suffered ridicule and were called whores. I think any activity that showed women gaining independence made men nervous.

This is just a sampling of the fascinating information in Montgomery’s book. I heartily recommend it—to enjoy in  your leisure time. Link to "Displaying Women" book

Masquerade!

When I was a child . . .

Don't get me started or I'll end up sounding like a Dickens' novel. But honestly, when I was a child I started writing a book about a maid and her mistress. I didn't get very far because I was obsessed with being able to use my mother's typewriter, and I couldn't stand having any typos so I ended up retyping a few pages over and over. Obviously, that was in the era (era? I have an era?) before computers. The point is that when I talk about my newest novel, Masquerade, I may be able to honestly state that the roots of the story go back to that decade long, long ago.

But unlike that earlier attempt, this time the story was completed. Thank God for editors and spell-check! Masquerade has been born and I am the proud mama of this, my first historical romance. I've often included romance in my novels, but this is the first time I've let it have free rein. So watch out!

Masquerade is the story of a rich English girl who’s supposed to marry a New York heir she’s never met. But the lure of starting over in America gives her the idea of getting her maid to assume her identity and take her place. Of course things don’t go smoothly (you’d be disappointed if they did), but in the end both girls end up discovering where God wants them to be. And isn’t that what we all search for? That place, that nook, that embrace, that makes us nod with contentment and gives us purpose.

That's the gist of the story, but in the coming weeks I'll share some juicy tidbits of behind-the-scenes in 1886 New York society—and the huge challenges of the immigrants flowing into New York expecting to find streets paved with gold. Here's a book trailer to whet your interest: "Masquerade" book trailer If you feel so inclined, leave a comment. Be kind. This was my first attempt at such a thing.

Next, let me introduce you to my characters—visually. I love portrait paintings. Put me in a museum and I'll gravitate away from the abstract and toward the paintings that are nearly photographic in their ability to capture a moment in time. My favorite portrait painter is John Singer Sargent who was the portraitist of the Gilded Age. Even though photography was available, the old guard still preferred to have their images eternalized on canvas, and Sargent was the one to do it. He was an expert at capturing more than an image; a moment, an attitude, a life.

And so I used his work as inspiration for my characters. Once I determined who Charlotte Gleason and Dora Connors were, I searched through Sargent's paintings and found two images that fit.

Here is Charlotte, the heiress.

And below is Dora, her maid:

In my story the two girls resemble each other—they have to in order for Dora to assume Charlotte's identity. And these two subjects of Sargent also share a resemblance. The only change I made in their appearance is that I made the girls blond to stand out among the other characters in the story. So visualize that if you please (hey, if I can do it, so can you.) The real subjects in the pictures are Lady Agnew and Elsie Wagg. How perfect is that? Actually, another of Sargent's paintings has spurred a new book I haven't even started yet so you'll see more of his work showcased on this blog in the future.

If you'd like to see all of Sargent's work go to Complete Works of John Singer Sargent. I encourage you to browse through his paintings and peer into the eyes of the people there. They were real, like you and me, and probably complained that the portrait made them look fat, or asked, "Could you please get rid of my double chin, Mr. Sargent?" I like spending time with them and letting them talk to me. Try it. Let the people in the paintings tell you about their lives, their hopes and dreams, and their loves.

It's the last that counts. I revel in the basic process of one person loving another. But it doesn’t surprise me. After all, the Bible makes it clear: “We love because he first loved us.” (John 4: 19)

If that isn’t romantic, I don’t know what is. // Nancy Moser

(To purchase the book go to: Buy Masquerade by Nancy Moser )