Marlene Wagman-Geller

“In passing, also, I would like to say that the first time Adam had a chance he laid the blame on a woman.”. “Nancy, Viscountess Astor

While many of the Gilded Age gals whiled away their time in a swirl of opera, balls, and gossip, dollar princess Nancy, Viscountess Astor, became the British version of Eleanor Roosevelt as the first woman  to infiltrate the British Parliament’s all-male sanctuary.

Destined to create seismic waves on both sides of the pond, Nancy Witcher Langhorne was born in Danville, Virginia, on the North Carolina border. She was the third of eleven children, six of whom were daughters Lizzie, Irene, Nanaire, (she changed her name to Nancy when she moved  to England) Phyllis, Nora, and Mary-the latter of whom died in infancy. The Civil War plunged the once prosperous and prominent clan into poverty, and for the remainder of her life Nancy felt the Confederate cause was just. Her  father, the hard-drinking, tobacco-chewing Colonel Chiswell “Chilly” Langhorne, flexible moral code led to his collaboration with carpetbaggers and scalawags that raised them from rags to riches through a railroad fortune when  Nancy was eleven. In 1893, he purchased Mirador, an antebellum, columned mansion at the foot of the Blue Ridge Mountains near Charlottesville. Chilly was content in retirement, as he believed work was only “fer niggers and damyankees.” Many years transpired until Nancy realized that ‘damn Yankee’ was not one word. Chilly and wife Nanaire, along with their children, enjoyed a leisurely life of hunting, riding, and entertaining. What his daughters did not do was attend school. In the world according to Chilly, female education was of little import and all that ladies needed “was a few polite accomplishments and to be a good horsewoman.”  As an octogenarian, Nancy recalled of her  Viriginia youth, “Nothing could be as  lovely as that, though Phyllis recalled a more realistic life at Mirador, "We were fitted for battling in our family. The M in Mirador stood for misery as well as mirth.”

The winners of a genetic lottery, the sisters were known as “the handsome  Miss Langhornes.” On a trip to the North, Dixie Debutante Irene caught the eye of Ward McAllister who invited her to lead the Grand  March at New Yorks’ Patriarch Ball, hostor by Caroline Schermerhorn Astor. She received sixty-two proposals and accepted Charles Dana Gibson who she had met at Delmonico’s. He was the famous illustrator of the Gibson Girl whose hairdo inspired a country-wide craze.

In 1897, after a three-month engagement, the eighteen-year-old Nancy married the  polo player Robert Gould Shaw II, whose family was Boston Brahmins. Repulsed by marital relations, the newly minted Mrs. Shaw refused to have sex on her wedding night. She once stated, “I can’t even tolerate seein’ two birds matin’ without wantin’ to separate them.” Another point of contention was Robert’s alcoholism that turned his wife into a life-long crusader for Temperance. One night she woke up and saw her husband with a chloroformed sponge which many have resulted in the birth of their son Robert Gould Shaw III, who went by Bobby. The tomboy who had once whacked a snake to death with her hunting crop had a breaking point and put an end to her six-year marriage. The move always led to her relationship with her mother-in-law who she referred to as “that old buzzard.” Her prayer for Bobby, of whom she had  primary custody and loved unconditionally, was that he would spend his life sober. She did not receive her wish.

To distance herself from the death of  her mother and the horror of her husband, accompanied by Bobby and Phyllis, Nancy set sail for Europe. Fellow American divorcée, Alva Astor, took Nancy under her wing that provided entry into Edwardian high society. However, many English ladies looked askance at American women whose scavenger hunts for  European aristocrats were making inroads on eligible bachelors. Edith Cunard,   the wife of Sir Gordon Cunard, asked Nancy, “I suppose you’ve come over here to get one of our husbands?” Nancy responded, “If  you knew the trouble I’ve had getting rid of mine,  you’d know I don’t want yours.”

After a visit to Virginia, Nancy was in Manhattan waiting to sail back to Europe aboard the White Star’s SS Cedric. On the quay, Alva introduced Nancy to her cousin, Waldorf Astor who discovered they had the commonalities of: American expatriates, born on the same day and  year, distaste for alcohol. Waldorf invited Nancy to be his guest at Cliveden, his father-William Waldorf Astor’s-1850 Italianate mansion, located  mere miles from Windsor Castle. Cliveden’s previous owner, the Duke of Westminster, had hosted Queen Victoria on eight occasions. When the Queen discovered that an American was to be Cliveden’s next Lord, she was not amused, “It  is grievous to think of its falling into these hands!”

In 1906, Waldorf and Nancy wed at All Souls Church, Langham Place, where the bride wore three stands of magnificent pearls, a gift from the groom. Her father-in-law presented Nancy with a tiara that held the pear-shaped, fifty-three carat Sancy diamond, that had once nestled in Elizabeth I’s treasure chest. (The Sancy diamond is on display at the Louvre.) The couple also received ownership of Cliveden, of which William stated his gift was “the most magnificent wedding gift ever made, I should imagine.” William’s next residence was Hever Castle where Henry VIII had courted Anne Boleyn. Nancy had come far from the poverty of her youth where she had stood outside a house in Richmond, the Langhorne’s possessions stacked next to two goats in a crate.

The newlyweds honeymooned in Paris, the Italian Alps, and Romania, the latter where they went at the invitation of Crown Princess Marie, Queen Victoria’s granddaughter. In a letter to  her  father, Nancy wrote, “Bobbie is delighted with Waldorf & it will be nice for us having a home, if a ‘po’ white’ like me could call such an enormous place home.” For presentation at Buckingham  Palace, Lady Astor wore the Sancy diamond and a coronet that had once been the possession of King Louis XV. Upon their return, the Astors embarked on renovating Cliveden. The dining-room displayed paneling from the Chateau d’Asnières, the hunting lodge near Paris, once a dwelling of Madame Pompadour. Paintings bore the signatures of Gainsborough and Reynolds. Another canvass was a portrait of Nancy by John Singer Sargent. The magnificent garden that nestled on 375 acres on the banks of The Thames River were statues transported from the Villa Borghese in Italy. The estate also saw the addition of the Astors’ children: William Waldord, Francis David Langhorne, Michael Langhorne, John Jacob, and Nancy Phyllis Louise, (nicknamed Wissie.) When Nancy Louise suffered a  serious horseback riding accident at age twenty, due to the precepts of her Christian Science religion, Nancy delayed in seeking medical assistance. As a  result, Nancy Louise had lifelong back pain which she blamed on Nancy. The mother of six confessed her children had been “conceived without pleasure.” To distance herself from sex, she ate an apple.

The apple of Nancy’s eye was her extremely handsome firstborn. In 1929, Bobby had to retire from the armed forces after being “detected with a soldier in conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman.” Two years later, after “importuning a  guardsman” the Vine Street Magistrates Court sentenced him to four months in prison. As Waldorf owned the Observer and his brother had controlling interest in The Times,  they quashed media coverage. Nancy cherrypicked her prejudices and remarked that Mark, Bobby’s boyfriend, was “the prettiest of all my children’s girlfriends; the rest of  them are just overpainted hussies.” However, when John married a Catholic from Argentina, Nancy informed him she would not attend  the wedding. He shot back he would not attend her funeral.

Luminaries gathered  like moths to the luminosity of Cliveden. George Bernard Shaw declared that Cliveden “was like no other country house in the world…you meet everybody worth meeting, rich or poor at Cliveden.” Nancy pressured Shaw to accompany her on walks, “Come out of there  you old fool. You’ve written enough nonsense in  your life!” When frenemy Winston Churchill asked her what disguise he should wear to a masquerade ball, Lady Astor quipped, “Why don’t you come sober?” Other guests were Rudyard Kipling, J. M. Barrie, Edith Wharton, Henry Ford, and  President Franklin Delano Roosevelt. King Edward VII declared Cliveden the “prettiest place in England.” Alice Keppel, King Edward VII’s  favorite mistress-the great grandmother of Camilla Parker Bowles was not a fan. Nancy stated, “She told someone I talk too much-I replied if she thought I talked much when she was in the room she just ought to hear what I said when she left it.” Waldorf took heed. When a guest asked him why he was  so quiet, he answered, “Wouldn’t you?” One feels empathy for Waldorf ; Nancy told one of her sons that she loved him despite his unfortunate resemblance to his father. Archduke Franz Ferdinand spent a weekend at Cliveden shortly before his assassination. Her worse moment as a hostess occurred when Nancy introduced her guest, Zionist Chaim Weizman, as “the only decent Jew I have ever met.” The wife of the British ambassador deemed Nancy a Southern prima donna who did cartwheels in the hall at Cliveden.

Rosina (Rose) Harrison, the lady’s maid to  Nancy for thirty-five years, in her book My Life in Service, shed light on the lives of  the peerage. Rose was in charge of  her ladyship’s six daily changes  of clothes, maintained her ten fur coats, and looked after  the children when Nancy was involved in a kaleidoscope of activities. In the book she recalled that Nancy’s  favorite jewels were  diamonds and dressed to the nines, once asked her maid, “What do I look like, Rose?” Rose replied, “Cartier’s, my lady.” The Astor butler, Edwin Lee served as the model for the butler in the novel The Remains of the Day.

The book also shed light on Lord Astor who, particular to his milk, always  travelled with his special cow and cowman. Other tidbits shed light on the attire of the butlers and the footmen. At least the footmen did not have to be the  same height and build as was  de rigeur at other ducal establishments. A staff of  twenty worked tirelessly to keep the house running. However, the Astors were not supremely selfish: in 1915  they turned Cliveden into a hospital for wounded World War I soldiers. 

Unlike Chilly, who felt a gentleman’s pursuit was leisure, Waldorf served in the House of Commons for nine years until the 1919 death of his father. Upon inheriting the title of Viscount, he had to transition from the House of Commons to the House of Lords. In a move that made headlines on both sides of the pond, Nancy ran for hisvacant seat and became the first woman to sit in the House of Commons-alongside of 706 men. During her campaign she admonished hecklers to “Now you just shut up!” On her inaugural day, she went to Parliament attended by Prime Minister Lloyd George, Waldorf, and Bobbie. What clouded her crowning moment was Chilly had died a few months before. For the next twenty years, leaving her Southern belle and blueblood pedigree at the door, Nancy’s work attire was a black, three-cornered velvet hat, and a black dress trimmed with white. In keeping with her Christian Science faith and hatred of liquor, her maiden  speech to the House opposed a bill to end the wartime restriction on drinking, “I am not pressing for Prohibition. I am far too intelligent for that.” She was instrumental in enacting a law that barred the sale of alcohol to people under eighteen. Despite her staid clothes, at core she remained an heiress as evidenced by her remark, “They call it the Welfare State. I call it the Farewell State.” Waldorf arranged for a photograph of Prime Minister Lloyd George and the Earl of Balfour standing with Nancy for the wall of the House of Common’s staircase. Nancy’s Blue Ridge Mountain backbone enabled her to withstand the men who would have preferred “a rattlesnake in the House.” 

For their London power base, the Astors purchased an eighteenth palatial London townhouse on 4 St. James’s Square. Their  getaway was a rented home at Glendoe, overlooking Loch Ness. In a letter to Phyllis Nancy wrote, “My dear what do you  think Mr. Astor has  done…He has given Waldorf the Waldorf Hotel for a birthday present! Did you ever hear such a thing in yr. life!”

As the chatelaine of Cliveden, Nancy became one of London’s most high-profile figures known for her biting wit. In an address to the Women’s Freedom League, in reference to male’s who were intimidated by women’s rights, Nancy stated, “We are not asking for superiority, for we have always had that. All we ask is  equality.” Her take on marriage, “I married beneath me. All women do.”

Her former friendship with Sir Winston Churchill eroded as he felt women should have no part in the political arena; in his younger  years, he was against female suffrage. He remarked about her winning the seat that he felt as if “a woman had come into my bathroom and I had only a sponge to defend myself.” Her reply, “Sir, you are not handsome enough to have such fears. “A well-known exchange between the  two” “”Winston, you are drunk!” Churchill: “And you, madam, are ugly. But I shall be sober in  the morning.” Nancy;s description of Winston’s wife, Clementine, as “very stupid” added fuel to the fire.

In her role as parliamentarian, Nancy’s life was far different from women of her upper-class milieu. In 1931, along with Waldorf and George Berbard Shaw, Nancy visited Moscow to meet with Premier Joseph Stalin. (Shaw’s wife taxed Nancy with keeping her husband’s beard “in order.” While touring the Hermitage, upon seeing a painting of a saint, Shaw pointed out the difference between the Saint’s large breasts and  Nancy’s flat chest. Another meeting was with Mohandas Gandhi at the Astor St. James home. The Mahatma was sitting cross-legged in her reception room when Nancy walked in and said, “So you’re the wild man of God. I know all about you. Everybody thinks you’re a saint. But I know what  you really are. You’re just like me. You’re just an old politician.” Ghandi laughed and the American heiress and the Indian living-saint bonded. Waldorf had his own meeting, a twenty-minute one with Adolf Hitler in which  the Führer convinced the Viscount that Christian Science had nothing to fear from The Third Reich.

In her  seventies, Nancy had lost her political direction’ although having complained of “the muddle that men had made of the  world” she did little to unmuddle it. 1944, understanding that his wife had lost the support of her party, he  advised her to step down. Her son, William, concurred, “The trouble with  you, Mama, is that the engine’s working perfectly but the steering’s gone.” Her resignation proved a bitter pill. If the Viscountess, from her grave in Octagon Temple, Cliveden, could have been privy to  the future, she would have been gratified when, in 2019, former British Prime Minister Teresa May unveiled a statue of Nancy Astor for putting a female foot in the political door.

At age eighty-five, seeing all her children assembled at her bedside, asked, “Is it  my birthday or am I dying?” Nancy’s passing at age eighty-five spared her two events  that would have caused her grief. One of these events was the Profundo Affair. John Profundo, the secretary of state for war, was a frequent guest at Cliveden by way of invitation of William, Nancy’s son. On one of these visits, Profundo met Christine Keeler, a nineteen-year-old-call girl. Christine’s tabloid confessions centered on disclosures regarding her affair with the married Profundo ended his career. Another of her  damaging disclosures dragged William  Astor’s name into the muck. Six years after Nancy’s 1964 death, Bobbie committed suicide. 

For the dollar princess who first captured America as a Southern belle, and then captivated England as the Viscountess, a fitting epithet for Nancy: The Lady Vanquished.