By the end of the 19th century, almost anyone with a little bit of money and a lot of nerve thought they could enter society. I would never have acknowledged them, and they certainly would never have crossed my threshold. Here is one flagrant example:
Mabelle Gilman, daughter of Charles H. Gilman and Jeannette Curtis Gilman, was born in San Francisco, CA, in 1880 and was educated at Mills College where she studied voice under Julie Rosenwald. She made her first stage appearance in September of 1896 at Daly’s Theatre in New York City in The Geisha, followed by The Circus Girl and The Runaway Girl. After several other productions she went to London in 1900 where she appeared in The Casino Girl for six months before returning to New York in 1902 for more starring roles. Mabelle rose to musical comedy stardom and in 1905 first met her future husband, William Ellis Corey (1866-1934), when he heard her sing in a Pittsburgh theatre in The Mocking Bird.
Corey started his steel career at the age of 16 and rose to succeed Charles M. Schwab in 1903 as president of United States Steel (at an unprecedented annual salary of $100,000) after having served as President of Carnegie Steel. He married early in life Laura Cook, the daughter of a steelworker, and they had a son, Alan. When a portrait was painted of Mabelle Gilman in a room prominently displaying an easel holding a portrait of William E. Corey, the public was first made aware of their relationship. In 1905 Andrew Carnegie gave a small dinner party at which he attempted to have the Coreys reconcile but he was unsuccessful. Soon afterwards Mrs. Charles M. Schwab, expressing the view of all of social Pittsburgh, was reported to have said to Corey, “If you divorce Mrs. Corey and marry that actress my doors will be closed to you forever.”
In 1906, intent upon marrying Mabelle, Corey settled as much as two million dollars on his wife in order to obtain a Reno divorce on 6 July 1906. One of his sisters testified at the hearing that he was unfit to be given custody of his sixteen year-old son, while another sister was in Paris helping Mabell prepare for her wedding (she and Mabell were both voice students of famous opera star Jean de Reszke). Corey was finally able to overcome the objections of his parents and sister after he gave his mother $250,000 in U.S. Steel stock as well as a farm outside Philadelphia where one of his sisters was also to live. Although there were persistent rumors that Corey would be forced to give up the presidency of U. S. Steel because of negative publicity, it was finally determined that he was too valuable to the company.
Mabelle Gilman arrived in New York City from Paris on the Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse on 1 May 1914 and joined her mother and two sisters, Pearl and Eunice. Mabelle was married to William E. Corey on 14 May 1907 at the Hotel Gotham by a Congregationalist minister after they could not find a Catholic or Episcopal priest to perform the ceremony (he later returned the fee and asked his fellow ministers for forgiveness for having wed the couple). They first leased a mansion at 803 Fifth Avenue then purchased 991 Fifth Avenue, at the corner of 80th Street (now the home of the American Irish Historical Society). Corey gave his wife as a wedding present a beautiful chateau outside Paris, the Villa de Vilgenis, which had once belonged to Louis de Bourbon, the Prince de Condé, and was the site of the death of the youngest brother of Napoleon I, Jerome Bonaparte (whose first wife was a beautiful American heiress, Betsey Patterson of Baltimore). There were rumors that Mabelle was seen there riding naked on horseback as the sun was rising. The home was to remain in the Corey family until 1950 when it was expropriated by Air France. Corey was also reported to have given his new wife one million dollars as well as valuable jewels as a wedding present.
Armed with money and a high profile, Mabelle entertained lavishly. The English writer and actor Beverley Nichols noted in his diary, “Lunch at Claridge’s with Mabelle Corey, a rattling American who had collected the King of Greece, the Duke of Marlborough, Lord Elmleigh, Lady Birkenhead, Lady Alexander Haig and me.” In 1907 Mabelle announced her ambition to sing in grand opera and was the last student to be taught by Jean de Reszke for the season. The New York Times noted, “De Reszke … has high hopes of this particular pupil, who pays double prices.” When she visited her seriously ill mother in Massachusetts in 1908, her father attempted to book for her a vaudeville appearance in the local theatre but there were no open dates. That same year, after having hosted the Duke of Leuchtenberg at a luncheon at their chateau, the Coreys visited the upper peninsula of Michigan to hunt deer and security guards were hired to keep photographers well away from the preserve. In 1910 there was talk of her playing Katherine in The Taming of the Shrew to give her “a chance to prove her quality,” but nothing came of it. A 1911 dinner in Paris hosted by the Coreys included the Grand Duke Boris, Duke Alexander von Leuchtenberg, Baron Maurice de Rothschild, the Duchess de Morny, and several other titled guests.
On a 1912 Christmas visit to the U.S., she told waiting reporters at the New York pier, “I love this country, but I can never live here again because the noise would drive me mad. When I am here I cannot rest, I cannot think, and I know that I shall suffer while I am spending the holidays with Mr. Corey’s mother. Most of the time I shall spend at the opera, where the orchestra will drown out lesser and more discordant sounds.” She also took the opportunity to praise French husbands in comparison to their American counterparts, explaining, “the American gives all his time to his business, and when he kisses his wife it is likely that he is thinking of stocks and bonds or accounts receivable.” Perhaps it was a harbinger of things to come, as Mabelle divorced her husband in Paris in November of 1923 and retained her French chateau where she entertained wounded U. S. soldiers during the War.
For years Mabelle had been friendly with a notorious member of both the French and Spanish royal families, the Infante Luis Fernando de Borbon, born in Madrid on 5 November 1888. His mother, the Infanta Eulalia of Spain, was a daughter of Queen Isabella II and a sister of King Alfonso XII. His father, the Duke de Galliera, was a son of the Duke de Montpensier and a grandson of Louis Philippe, King of the French. The young man’s only brother, who succeeded their father of Duke de Galliera, was married to Princess Beatrice, a granddaughter of Queen Victoria. All those royal connections were all the more embarrassing as Luis was a flagrant homosexual who occasionally wore women’s clothes and carried on a long-standing affair with a Portuguese nobleman.
In October of 1924 Luis was expelled from France, purportedly for his involvement in the trade of illegal drugs although police had often observed him in questionable salacious activities with other men (there were reports of drug-induced orgies). He even hired a taxi while at the Riviera to take him to Paris and then had no money to pay for the service. In response his first cousin, King Alfonso XIII, deprived him of his privileges as an Infante of Spain. Unwelcome in both Spain and France, Luis moved to Lisbon and, in March of 1926, was arrested at the Portuguese-Spanish border disguised as a woman. Although he carried smuggled goods, no drugs were discovered.
A Venetian social hostess recounted of Luis, “I had two footmen, handsome negroes, but I have lost both of them. The first was taken from me by tuberculosis, the second by the Infante of Spain.” The same woman invited Luis and a friend to an elegant dinner party. On the day of the event she received an urgent telegram asking her to lend him seven thousand francs which he must have right away. Although the banks were already closed, she feared that he and his friend would not appear at her dinner if she did not send the funds. After borrowing from her servants, she was able to raise only half the sum and sent it to Luis. That evening all the guests were seated and the hostess nervously waited to see if he and his friend would appear. Finally the door opened and Luis entered, kissing his hostess’s hand and explaining, “Since you sent only half the money I have come alone!”
In her memoirs, the American-born Countess Nostitz referred to the Infante Luis as “a quaint looking little boy, very fair, and amusing to talk to.” She also noted that he had “been exiled from Paris once on account of his ‘queer’ proclivities. Recently he has had the same fate. But despite his strange life he is a likeable little man.” Luis’s mother, the popular Infanta Eulalia, was economical with the truth in her writings but even she, in her 1925 book, cautions against “the menace of degeneracy,” writing that World War I was “productive of an army of degenerates, male and female perverts, who indulged in nameless evils … Abnormal vice has existed since the earliest ages: it flourished in Greece and Rome; it has alternately languished and revived according to the spirit of the time. But never has the cult of degeneracy assumed such terrific proportions as it did during the War, and never has its hydra-head been so unashamedly raised as at the present time.” Drugs did not go unnoticed, either, as she continued, “cocaine, morphia, and lesser drugs are fatal enemies to the health and sanity of any race, just as much as the vices of Lesbos and Sodom are the worst foes of morality.”
What, then, was to be done with such an amusing but dangerous royal with no funds? Even Infante Luis’s mother had admitted in her writing that “many degenerates have a measure of worldly success; they are often amusing, witty, almost uncannily clever; they love colour, beauty and music; they are occasionally kind-hearted – but, notwithstanding these qualities, I would unhesitatingly blot out my nearest and dearest, were I once to discover that he or she had outraged the laws of honour and decency. For me, such a person would cease to live.” The Infanta Eulalia, however, was not without her own sins. A highly sexual woman, she had a longstanding affair with the unsavory George, Count Jamatel (1859-1944). In 1899 he had been married to Princess Marie of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, a cousin of England’s Queen Mary and sister of the Queen of Montenegro (Marie’s brother, the last Grand Duke of Mecklenburg-Strelitz, committed suicide in 1918). Marie had need of a husband after becoming pregnant by the married footman who lit the lamps in her bedroom. A family was quickly found to adopt the baby but Marie was estranged from her parents. Jamatel and his wife were divorced in 1908 shortly after he supposedly fatally wounded Princess Marie’s other brother in a duel (although other sources dispute that account).
Perhaps the incident hardened Eulalia’s own views, but she publicly approved when, in March of 1929, the long-expected engagement was announced of her son, Infante Luis, to Mabelle Gilman Corey.The groom’s mother, Infanta Eulalia, announced the engagement from Madrid in March. For her part, Mabelle would not confirm the announcement from her chateau outside Paris, but she did admit that the question of marriage with Luis “had been discussed” with his mother. Mabelle was said to be working on securing permission for Luis to re-enter France and her acceptance of the marriage was conditioned upon that right. In May at a formal tea reception at the Hotel Plaza in Paris, Eulalia formally announced that the wedding would take place in June at San Remo where she had purchased a home for her son. Attending the announcement were Grand Duke Alexander and Princess Bibesco, but the groom-to-be was still not allowed into France. According to the Infanta, “This will be a happy marriage because my son has been in love with Mabelle for twenty years and has always said he would never marry any one else.” Mabelle responded by declaring, “This twenty-year-old romance certainly shows I am not impulsive,” before announcing that she had just converted to the Roman Catholic faith with her baptism at Versailles. It was said that the Infanta withheld her consent until the ceremony could be performed in a Catholic church. The Infanta assured attendees that the French government would lift its ban on her son’s entry into the country after the wedding, asserting that Luis “will settle down and be a good boy after he marries.”
When a wedding still not taken place by early June, the London Daily Express announced that the Infanta Eulalia was spreading the rumor that the reason was Mabelle’s “unwillingness to take up the simple life Prince Luis has found to his liking at San Remo.” For her part, Mabelle was said to be securing additional documentation concerning her divorce decree before the wedding could take place. Within a week Luis was interviewed in San Remo where he seemed to seek more information than he gave. His only attributed quote about the wedding was, “At all events it will not be a society affair.” He was also unaware of where his fiancée might be at the time.
But on June 13th a friend of Luis’ in Paris received a letter from him saying that the marriage was off as the $1,000 per month Mabelle had offered him as “pocket money” in addition to a home was insufficient. It was also said that he had demanded a $200,000 cash dowry as well. His mother then announced it appeared that the entire wedding might never take place although Mabelle countered that it was only postponed because of the excessive heat in San Remo. One of the groom’s relatives stated that Mabelle had wished to marry Luis “in order to save him… but now it seems that Luis doesn’t care for redemption.”
As no permission had been granted by the French government for Luis to re-enter France, he would not have been able to live at Mabelle’s Chateau de Vilegins even had the marriage taken place. It was also reported that Princess Beatrice, youngest daughter of Queen Victoria, also objected to Luis’s living at San Remo because it was “a small place and it is difficult for two members of royalty to avoid meeting one another.”
It seems that Luis could not stay out of the limelight long, for the following July of 1930, the 42 year-old Infante Luis became engaged to the 73 year-old Princess Amedee de Broglie who possessed one of the largest fortunes in France (derived from sugar). Born Marie Charlotte Constance Say in 1857, she owned the magnificent Chateau de Chaumont-sur Loire and already had four children, all of whom were older than Luis. In 1913 Luis had given a ball on Grand Prix night and presented the top award in a tango competition to Marie. Her family fought to have her declared insane when she announced her intention to marry Luis and her only public response was, “I realize that many persons think my marriage with this much younger man ridiculous, but I want to spend a few happy years before I die.” The court ruled that the Princess de Broglie’s parents might have been able to object to her marriage but not her children and other descendants. In a civil ceremony in London (Luis was still not allowed in France) the Infante Luis married Marie Say, the widowed Princess Amedee de Broglie on 19 September 1930. They later added a religious ceremony at San Remo on 4 October 1930. Luis squandered her fortune and she was eventually forced to sell not only her chateau but her London mansion as well. During the War he would visit her to obtain much-loved sugar, which was rationed. When she could no longer provide the source of her income, Luis was said to have announced, “It isn’t worth marrying a Say to find you can’t even have any sugar!”
In 1935 Luis was again expelled from France after a vice squad raid. Marie died in a small apartment in 1943 at the age of 86 and Luis was finally brought back to Paris where he lay in a nursing home for two more years before his own death on 20 June 1945. Mabelle Gilman Corey later lived a much quieter life than was her custom. In 1942, she was seized by the Germans in Paris along with other American women, including the Duchess of Uzes (born Josephine Angela), as well as Princess Michel Murat (born Isabelle McMillin). She then retreated into obscurity and death.
Mabelle’s younger sister, Pearl, followed her into vaudeville but with only moderate success. She married two wealthy husbands in succession – candy maker Charles W. Alisky in 1912 then Theodore Arnreiter – then met and married within five days actor Eric Campbell who was the best friend and preferred co-star of Charlie Chaplin. The large Campbell often played the “heavy” role in Chaplin’s films and was lent to Mary Pickford at her request for one of her movies. When Campbell’s first wife died of a heart attack in 1917, their 16 year-old daughter went out to buy a mourning dress and was struck by a car and left in critical condition. Campbell moved into the Los Angeles Athletic Club to a room next door to Chaplin. While Campbell’s daughter was still ill he married Pearl Gilman who then sued him for divorce within two months. Shortly afterwards Campbell was returning intoxicated from a party when he lost control of his car and was killed. Because no one paid his funeral costs his ashes lay unclaimed in a mortuary until it closed in 1938 when they were sent to a different office. In 1952 an office worker buried the ashes but failed to record the location.
Huntington Hartford
