The Phantom of Fifth Avenue: The Mysterious Life and Scandalous Death of Heiress Huguette Clark by Meryl Gordon Page A
Authors: Meryl Gordon
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stop, which was incorporated as Las Vegas. Grateful Nevada citizens christened the area Clark County. The
Los Angeles Times
gushed in a headline: W.A. CLARK THE BUSIEST MAN IN THE SWIM .
His triumphant march through the business pages hit a snag, however, with the eruption in April 1903 of a long-brewing scandal. Mary McNellis, the New Yorker whom he had wined and dined back in 1896 at the Chicago convention, went public with the details of her $150,000 breach-of-promise lawsuit against him. McNellis complained that her lawsuit, filed many years earlier, had been unfairly dismissed in secret proceedings and demanded a new trial. An irate Clark announced, “I would rather stand publicity than give up money when I am innocent.” In McNellis’s version, Clark had been a frequent caller at her Forty-Second Street apartment, helped her with her German lessons, and sent her notes signed “Votre ami.” Clark admitted that he’d met McNellis four times and had been fond of her but was offended when he began receiving letters from her lawyer “trying to induce me to pay money. I would not submit to the demands and I will not do so now.” Clark prevailed and the lawsuit was thrown out.
At the end of 1903, William Andrews Clark was in a reflectivemood. Anna La Chapelle had become pregnant again earlier that year but this time the baby—a boy—died within an hour of his birth in France. Anna’s place in the senator’s life remained a secret, so his children and colleagues were unaware of the loss of the child.
Sitting in his Wall Street office, the senator gave an unusually candid interview to the
Dallas Morning News
( SENATOR W. A. CLARK, CROESUS, TELLS ABOUT HIMSELF ). Clark came across as a lonely and self-important man consumed by work yet eager to be admired for his good taste as a patron of the arts. “His shoulders are spare, his frame is lean, his features are sharply cast. He has the eyes of an eagle,” the writer noted. “It was his quiet demeanor, his soberness, his seriousness which can, if necessary, give way to dramatic and forceful denunciation, which impressed me.”
Clark described himself as an early riser, up for an energetic stroll around his Central Park neighborhood at dawn and finished with breakfast by 8 a.m. He often walked from his Fifty-Eighth Street apartment down to Wall Street for the exercise and at night avoided rich meals, limiting himself to one cigar and poring over business until late at night. “So what if I do work twelve, fourteen and sixteen hours a day?” the sixty-four-year-old Clark said, emphasizing that he still felt like a young man. “I can do good by working. Thousands of men and women are depending upon my energies for their bread and butter.”
He cited two great passions: fine European wines that he took with him by the case when traveling, and splurging on art. “I was born with the innate love of the beautiful in nature and in the arts,” he said, bragging that he had sixty-four masterpieces in storage in Vienna awaiting the completion of his Fifth Avenue mansion. He stressed that he had rarely relied on art advisers and instead relied on his own taste and judgment. (Which may explain why the Corcoran Gallery later identified numerous fakes in his collection.) Reciting the countries where he had toured galleries and museums—England, France, Germany, Belgium, Spain, Italy, and Holland—Clark said, “I acquired a distinctive perception and correct notions and taste in painting, sculpture, architecture and other beautiful arts.”
With a nod to his children, he mentioned that in his rare time off,he took pleasure in the Sunday afternoon musicales given by his two Manhattan-based daughters, Katherine and Mary, as well as attending the opera.
Asked about his philanthropic plans, Clark gave a surprisingly honest answer, noting that he especially liked to help young women. “I find that a direct application of aid to young people—especially girls without
Los Angeles Times
gushed in a headline: W.A. CLARK THE BUSIEST MAN IN THE SWIM .
His triumphant march through the business pages hit a snag, however, with the eruption in April 1903 of a long-brewing scandal. Mary McNellis, the New Yorker whom he had wined and dined back in 1896 at the Chicago convention, went public with the details of her $150,000 breach-of-promise lawsuit against him. McNellis complained that her lawsuit, filed many years earlier, had been unfairly dismissed in secret proceedings and demanded a new trial. An irate Clark announced, “I would rather stand publicity than give up money when I am innocent.” In McNellis’s version, Clark had been a frequent caller at her Forty-Second Street apartment, helped her with her German lessons, and sent her notes signed “Votre ami.” Clark admitted that he’d met McNellis four times and had been fond of her but was offended when he began receiving letters from her lawyer “trying to induce me to pay money. I would not submit to the demands and I will not do so now.” Clark prevailed and the lawsuit was thrown out.
At the end of 1903, William Andrews Clark was in a reflectivemood. Anna La Chapelle had become pregnant again earlier that year but this time the baby—a boy—died within an hour of his birth in France. Anna’s place in the senator’s life remained a secret, so his children and colleagues were unaware of the loss of the child.
Sitting in his Wall Street office, the senator gave an unusually candid interview to the
Dallas Morning News
( SENATOR W. A. CLARK, CROESUS, TELLS ABOUT HIMSELF ). Clark came across as a lonely and self-important man consumed by work yet eager to be admired for his good taste as a patron of the arts. “His shoulders are spare, his frame is lean, his features are sharply cast. He has the eyes of an eagle,” the writer noted. “It was his quiet demeanor, his soberness, his seriousness which can, if necessary, give way to dramatic and forceful denunciation, which impressed me.”
Clark described himself as an early riser, up for an energetic stroll around his Central Park neighborhood at dawn and finished with breakfast by 8 a.m. He often walked from his Fifty-Eighth Street apartment down to Wall Street for the exercise and at night avoided rich meals, limiting himself to one cigar and poring over business until late at night. “So what if I do work twelve, fourteen and sixteen hours a day?” the sixty-four-year-old Clark said, emphasizing that he still felt like a young man. “I can do good by working. Thousands of men and women are depending upon my energies for their bread and butter.”
He cited two great passions: fine European wines that he took with him by the case when traveling, and splurging on art. “I was born with the innate love of the beautiful in nature and in the arts,” he said, bragging that he had sixty-four masterpieces in storage in Vienna awaiting the completion of his Fifth Avenue mansion. He stressed that he had rarely relied on art advisers and instead relied on his own taste and judgment. (Which may explain why the Corcoran Gallery later identified numerous fakes in his collection.) Reciting the countries where he had toured galleries and museums—England, France, Germany, Belgium, Spain, Italy, and Holland—Clark said, “I acquired a distinctive perception and correct notions and taste in painting, sculpture, architecture and other beautiful arts.”
With a nod to his children, he mentioned that in his rare time off,he took pleasure in the Sunday afternoon musicales given by his two Manhattan-based daughters, Katherine and Mary, as well as attending the opera.
Asked about his philanthropic plans, Clark gave a surprisingly honest answer, noting that he especially liked to help young women. “I find that a direct application of aid to young people—especially girls without
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