The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, May 21, 1899, Page 20

Bel- t ha M. Sloane-Belmont. Y. upset by the former M legal iiver Belmont, ember of the old a erbilts were de: 5. Willle age to v comes another tic family and perately m s his brother Perry. both Instances there were children. The Sloane children were given into the Ay of the father outright.” Consuelo bilt's mar: the Duke of Mariborough assured ™ to the t e 10 had cast off 1 f Va f this hold good for a girl who ma nto & foreign land which Mrs he social honors Beimont ned through her daugh triumph Te nev alized. -3 that rried mother of the time of the Marlbor the divorced and rem THRE SBAN FRANOCISOO OALL, SUNDAY, MAY 21, 1899, Duchess could never hope for that recog- nition which English aristocracy was only ready to accord to William K. Van- derbiit, the father. It's a sad story, and ¥ deny the inexorable law of com- fon and retribution? It's only that Mrs. Oliver Belmont has made kind of an eifort to regain her stand- k society, and even the s have not made it quite ing Eclmont millic ensy to do this. The divorce proceedings of the Sloanes were conducted with the utmost secrecy. is e cited, but as the the Judge, the co- name in the case was never air hours and a half after the been granted to Mr. Sloane wife was married to Perry Tespo; reveaied. divorce had former his 12 : JZ‘@ We Living in a State of o “olygamy?”’ Ohu;'ohmen Beginning to Thunder Against the Divorce Ewvil STORM BROUGHT ABOUT BY THE SENSATIONAL SLOANE-BELMONT DIVORCE AND MARRIAGE. “POLYGAMY IS BEING PRACTICED ALL OVER THIS COUNTRY.” Bishop Leonard of Ohio in a Rousing Address Before the Recent Episcopal Diocesan Convention. Belmont at Greenwich, Conn., although the decree holds that her marriage in Mr. Sloane's life is unlawful. Three sessions were held before the ref- eree and six witnesses examined. Two beautiful young daughters, Jessie, aged 15, and Emily, some years younger, were given to the father. Mr. Sloane accepted the conditions im- posed upon him. In a letter to his attor- ney, which his attorney made public. he scored his former wife in these words: In view of the circumstances under which the deed was obtained I feel no hesitation in taking a reconveyance of the house, notwithstanding the removal of many valuable articles since I trans- ferred {t and the exaction of a large sum to. g‘a_' ,private debts recently contracted h%. er. his transaction, therefore, involved the sum of $588.998 88, embracing the houss, valued at §450.000, the $76,00 mortgage an Mrs. Sloane-Belmont's personal debts; and the divorce and subsequent hasty marriage involved;-besides this amount, the $3000,000 of Flenry T. Sloane and the $5,000,000. of Perry Beimont, making a to- tal of $11 . s _Perry Belmont’s admiration for Mrs. Sloane has been for several years one of the sweet morsels of gossip of New York . and it was expected by e fter a year or two he woul a ivorcee. The unpre v in which matters were expedited was unexpected, to say the least. At 3:15 Frid: afternoon, April 23, Mrs. Sloane received the news that she was no longer a wife. The hoodoo day of the bride-to-be had no terrors for her. - Half an hour later she was told that Mr. Bel- mont was waiting in the drawing room, and before the hand of the clock on the great staircase had marked amnother quarter of an bour the couple left the house and were driven to the station. At 7 o'clock that evening they were made man and wife by the Rev. Walter M. Barrows, pastor of the Second Congrega- tional Church at Greenwich, Conn. The ceremony over they drove to the station, took the first train for New York, and at 11 p. m. departed for Washington. There Is another detail of the story yet to be recorded. It refers to the home that belonged to Mrs. Sloane, now Mrs, Pelmont, § East Seventy-second street which was trarsferred to her last Octo. ber by N Sloane. Before she left the ) valued at $60,000, to the State Trust Company, with instructions 1o convey back apain to Mr. S If at the end of n'ncl&‘ aays he have accepted the deed, Mrs. Bel rects that the house shall be so!d and the proceeds of the sale kept in trust for her children. Very unlike the second marriage of this beautiful woman was her first to Henry T. Sloane some fifteen years ago. med by the onlookers then the principals in that sumptu- ous wedding feast would be the principais i o celebre that would stir the so- ks of this country. M e Robbins of Brooklyn an amiable disy tact she becam made friends ev seéemed mos Sloane, somewha marriage and changed perce influence of | into soc! ¢ncouraged her by his presence in ma the most enviable posi- he Four Hundred of the me- children came to bl Land lapsed back in nd his old love for busi r as he grew older. ch hetween the two in- was never closed is tropoli the unicn, t hi ere sed. proven by the d th Her e wealth had h j t outshone st any woman of her ac- he became known as the n of her set. Under Jacob Astor and . her boson friends, Mrs. a leader, and in that so- to who 'should wear the Mrs, Sloan it_her coterie. Sioa cial lowed by reconc | by renewed quarrels. ed the beautiful young wife, Turked in the breast of the Th husband. separatior h and weeks, and finally be- t. It is sald that it was at Newport last August that Mr. Sloane found confirmation for his suspicions. It nispered about Newport that Mr. rom his wheel and fallen f; attered and bruised about Then_came the an- and Mrs. Sloane d separated f She went to the town house of the Sloanes and the hus- uarters at the Buckingham two girls were left with the mother. Rumors came out from time to time that there would be a reconcillation, but Instead, suit they were never verified. W iled for divorce. Nobody knew of it until it was granted and followed imme- o remarriage of the divorces i ber T 2t husband. Thus ends the ter of the separation of the Sloanes. sides her children, Mrs. Sloane had al- €0 to give up her dower rights. But the latter lause ought mot to distress Mrs. Belmont. Somc. who seem to know, say that not t Newport was gurdted the final sepa of the Sloanes, but at the Metropolitan Opera-house. On the night tely by di R QUVEOVVUUL LV IOV VOV VRISV AVVETDON 0200008 vt GO T b=3 S 7 5 fed i ) o . —=UVer a rrecipice into Leat alley. =—: & 3 o o o Thrilling Escape of a Miner Fruom a Terrible Death. g o k=3 PR R R e R R R R R RN R RuRe c R R-R=R-FeReReR:FuReFeRFoR-Rry R RaFoFrR R FeoR R B BB R KPR RN R R R eBeo ool Ko XA RN KING, who owns a mine als of voleanic origin, while borne on seizure of the rock as I swept past it, penetrated into the valley and cast the close to Death Valley, in the i of an ar ching storm an on the onc hand I must have plunged shadow of the great peaks in fantastic Pana int range, cam his life whi prospecting tour lately fornia mine turdy, and does not seem for his experience. But his ne pretty and he affirms most sol- 1 not go through gain for all the wealth Goleon its th that h : same thing at or One blazing hot day,” says King, left my camp In Pleasant Canyon are to be found. = back of that {im- g s by a series of dykes an ged ascents al st to the foot of Telescope Peak, t giant sentinel of the range, which rs for nearly 11,000 feet into the irning sky of the desert, my eye lit well defined outeroppings of where the big lec After climbing seemed a likely spot at ence my pro ecti e d hobbling my burro and taking my cting pick I began slowly to > the course of the vein as it defined by the croppings. 1 cended toward the Death Valley e of the ridge the vein showed still rongly, and, Intensely interest: 3 iled to notice that the ground over which I was slowly picking my grew more and more precipitous. ldenly, as I rounded a rocky es , the awful panorama of Death Valley unfolded itself to my viev I had never contemplated this scene without a certain feeling of awe, and I now stood motionless before the vast spectacle. en thousand feet below me lay the valley, hideous, repulsive, appall- ing in its vista of desolation, its course defined by epparently endless upheav- carpm veeping toward ¢ a mile below. From teli can't vou just how it hap- pened, but something moved under my feet .as I stood hing the storm, and before I could Ip myself 1 s sli ng down, down, with a rapidity t took away-my breath, toward the sheer edge of the precipice. As I slid, however, I retained suf- ficient presence of mind to clutch at everything which might impede my progress; but there was not much on that barren slope. The next few sec- onds were terrible. 1 knew that if nothing stopped me I was lost. It was vhile 1. was ling these few last feet that the phenomenon so often expe- rienced by men who have been sud- denly put in extraordinarily perilous ons occurred in my own case. In tant it seemed as If the of a busy life, extend- y-seven years, was flashed 1 passed in one moment before me. from my childhood’s home in Connec- ticut to the awful realization of pres- ent peril. Then there was a sudden shock. T was brought up by ;some- thing that struck me under tHe left arm, and 1 opened my eyes slowly to find myself In a peculiar position. “I was lying on my back at an angle of about 85 degrees, my feet resting dgainst one of those yellow, cone- shaped cacti, which take such deep root in the soil. My left arm was clutching a projecting rock, which jut- ted to a length of about eighteen inches from the face of the precipice. Neither of these would .of itself have arrested my fall. Unchecked by my spasmodic but wholly unconscious through the cactus against which my feet now rested. On the other hand, if my feet had not struck the cactus my hold would have been torn from the ! hich in its turn partly sup- saved—this was my first re- Saved Yes, but for a lin- “1 was flection. gering and cruel fate. “I was miles from a human habita- tion. Accustomed to be gone from camp for a week or more at a time, my partner would not be at all alarmed at my absence. Besides, how long could I retain my present posi- tion? Already my left arm was stif- fened and cramped by holding on to the rock, for I was afrald to trust all my weight on the cactus. “Just then a shadow passed between me and the sun. I looked up. An enor- mous vulture was floating a few score feet above me. I felt my nerves grad- ually breaking down as the utter hope- lessness of escape forced itself upon me, “All this time I had not noticed that 1 still grasped in my right hand the small prospector’s pick with which I had started out. I still held it in a convulsive clutch. It was this which finally saved' me. “As I say, I had utterly lost my nerve. I dared not glance downward. There was a dreadful attraction about that awful abyss which I instinctively felt would drag me to destruction. A voice seemed to whisper, “‘Why prolong. this torture? Let go your hold. soon be over.’ “I reviewed every action of my past life. Bevered from all hope of earthly aid, I turned my thoughts to heaven. I have no distinct recollection how long this continued, but the sun went down and the stars came out and I fell into a kind of trance.. Soon the moon, peering over the mountains, It will streaks miles in length, so that in my weakened state I fancied glants were advancing over the floor of some vast, sanded parlor. “Hou: passed. A frightful thirst had assailed me, exposed as 1 had been all day to the burning rays of the sun, and I now felt my tongue swollen to such an extent that it seemed to flll my mouth. I could not summon a par- ticle of moisture to my cracked lips. “The night passed thus. When day dawned I still heid the pick and my nerves had somewhat recovered their normal condition. It was then that I contemplated, for the first time, the possibility of cutting steps up the al- most precipitous face of the mountain. “How did I set about it? I struck the pick by a backward blow of my right arm into the earth, relieving my- self of its weight and at the same time freeing my right hand. I then slowly turned over on my face and support- ing myself by the cactus caught hold of the rock with my right hand in this reversed position. “I then raifed my head and took a survey of the situation. I should say here that the fact that my face was turned from the depths below me to- ward the mountain did much to restore my nerve and give me confldence in n;y undertaking. Then I cut my first step. It was early dawn when I began. It was nearly dark when I finished the one hundred and thirty-second step and, nearly exhausted, crawled past the spot where I had commenced to slip. A few rods away my burro was contentedly munching at a sagebush. 1 staggered to my canteen and drank until nearly choked. Then I flung my- self down and slept. “I guess there’s a Providence that watches over prospectors. Bomehow I've come to believe it.” of November 80 Marcella Sembrich ap- peared there, and Mrs. Sloane was in her box, resplendent in all her diamonds. ‘With her were several men who had been forbidden Mr. Sloane’s house. There was some loud talk, and Mrs. Sloane vanished from the scene. She Immediately sent for her brother, Herbert D. Robbins, and he, it is sald, roundly belabored the hus- band for his ungallant conduct. To the divorce sult Mrs. Belmont made no de- fense. PULPIT PROTESTS RGAINST Divorce. HE recent Sloane-Belmont-Sloane divorce and marriage in New York, which served to accentuate the pre- valence of divorce in the fashionable world, has called forth many forei- ble expressions of opinfon concern- ing divorce from social leaders and the clergy. Cardinal Gibbons, speaking at the Phil- adelphia Catiedral last Sunday, said: By Cardinal Gibbons. “This country was shocked but a few days ago by the marriage of a prominent woman, almost before the ink on the di- vorce papers was dry, to another man,” He did not mention any names, but he made the declaration o clearly’ that it could not be mistaken that he intended to indicate his disapproval of the divorce which had been granted and the subse- uent speedy marriage of Mrs. Sloane to erry Belmont. ByDean Farrar, Canterbury, England I feel no hesitation whatever in declar- ing In the strongest possible terms my conviction that the strength and prosperi- ty of the nation depends more on the in- issoluble sacredness of the marriage bond than upon any other conditions. A great man has said that “‘the foun- dation stone of the republic is the hearth- stone.”” Certainly the happiness of every individual life depends more on the tender sanctity of the home affections than upon any other circumstances. ‘The grandeur of ancient Rome was built to a very great extent upon faithful- ness to the marriage tie, and when the shameful day in which the satiric historian could say that m longer reckored the vears hy the names of the consuls, but by the names of the husbands whom they had divorced, then freedom and of Rome became more and more over B ‘The unit in a nation is the family, and if the ties of family be lax the cohesfon of the whole nation’ must suffer. 1 duty of the natlon to 1s of ail wedded ment of h life. s must an happiness. union s by its into loose and easil doomed sooner or later to pe own inward decay. By Right Rev. W. A. Leonard, Bishop of Ohio. 3 14 the United States ery,” said the m of a mem- polygamis ‘“The good re ralsing a hen practical polygamy ticed all over the country. 7T come to such that the flimsiest pre- is 1 ns of suing for a ¢ rel or miserable lust are alike ns to this end.” Bishop Leo then went on to say he wanted the church laws so severe a divorced person cannot be remar- by any Episcopal clergyman. He ad- mitted that the he advocated who are worthy and innocent of wrong intent, but the times are, in his estima- tion, 8o out of joint that the most radi- cal ‘measures must be taken to proyids agalnst utter degeneracy. SOCIETY DIVORCES New York. IFTY years ago we were a simple people in very fact. To our grand- fathers and thelir fathers the mar- riage service really meant the union of two lives. Divorce was practically unknown. They took each other for better or for worse, and they thought and prayed before they made these solemn vows. HMaving made them, they lived up to them, or if they did not they were properly held up to the contempt of the community. Once in a lifetime, as in the case of the Sickles tragedy, a weak woman fell. Then her husband shot the man, put the woman away from him, according to Biblical or- ders, and society applauded, though it took it years to recover from the shock of the Bickles divorce case, Then came the Beecher-Tilton divorce. It resulted in the immolation of the ‘woman, the exllin§ of her husband and eneral desolation for all concerned. That ivorce shook the American nation from center to circumference. The Coleman Drayton divorce, with its scandalous revelations, brought the fair- est and first family of the country into the Divorce Court.” Mrs. Coleman Dray- ton was Miss Charlotte Astor, a daughter of Mrs. Willlam Astor. The social world stood transfixed at the thought of an attack upon a woman of the Astor family. Without more than a casual reference to this painful case, it may be said that its prominence and the sequel to the divorce, the remarriage of rs. Coleman Drayton to Mr. Halg of England and the acceptance of that lady soclally by the highest dignitary of the church when she returned to America as the bride of Mr. Halg, did more to ad- vance the laxity with which the marriage tie was afterward regarded than any other social incident of the century. Sober-minded men and women recall ‘Ward McAllister’s statement—and what- ever may be said as to his worldliness, it is certain that no one better knew his metier than the creator of the Four Hun- dred. “Soclety,” sald Mr. McAllister, ‘is founded upon the sacredness of the home and family ties. Divorce destroys the home. It would destroy soclety were a married divorcee ever to be accepted as a leader.” But the deadly upas tree was already thriving. And soclety has nourished it with prodigality. To-day_it overshadows : d the gospel. ~Looking without the condition of New York ty to-day one finds that in scarcely prominent family is the divorce court I wn territory. First of all, the Astors. Mrs. Willlam Astor, who was so stern in her dlsap- proval of dlvorces that she would not re- ceive a divorcee in her drawing room, now fin herself obliged to admit and accept »men who have followed in_her own daughter's lead. When Mrs. Wil- liam Astor gave a dinner party for her daughter, Mrs. Halg, and Bishop Potter the head of the church of the diocese o New York, and his wife accepted an in- vitation to that dinner, the social doors were thrown open to divorced men and women. Next to the Astors the Belmonts have been regarded as' social powers. Third in importance come the Vanderbiits. Before soclety had recovered from the sensation produced by the Coleman Dray- ton incident Mrs. William K. Vanderbilt treated the world to a series of surprises. Mrs. Vanderbiit, without any opposition from Mr. Vanderbilt, sccured a divorce from her husband on statutory ground Mr, Vanderbiit settled 35,000,000 or $6,000 000 upon his former wife, with yearly mony of $200,000. With her freedom from the marital bonds she thus became one of the richest unmarried American women, Within a few months the eldest child of William K. Vanderbilt, Consuelo, became the bride of the Duke of Marlborough, whose mother, the Marchioness of Bland- ford, had obtained a. divorce from the Duke's father, also on statutory grounds, and who has lived in seclusion ever since. g‘em‘d\ “"y?;rm“ nost immediately after r deughter's marriage beca vi S o E By T Do e e O. H. P. Belmont was a divorced man at the time. His wife was Miss Sallle thlr}g- She obtained a divorce dy only child, a is now a young woman. daughter Who Shortly after securing her divorce Mr. first wife married Mr. Georgs a widower, whose first wife was a Miss Schermerhorn, a niece of Mrs. Astor, The Belmonts, Astors and Van- derbilts have long been intimate friends. The older members of the family made up the first great soclal triumyirate, The Vanderbiit divorce was the first actual break in the trinity. At the time of the Vanderbilt divorce Mrs. George M. Rives, formerly Mrs. Bel- mont, was very intimate, as she is now, with 'the Astors. Mrs. Orme Wiison, formerly Carrle As- tor, and the present Mrs. Rives are inti- mate friends. Mrs. Wilson is the sister- in-law of Mrs. Ogden Goelst, and Mrs. Ogden Goelet is & sister of young Mrs. Cornellus Vanderbilt, The" Cornelius Vanderbiit Jrs, are ostracised by the re- mainder of the Vanderbilt connection, and the patlent reader who chooses to do 80 may amuse himself by untangling the complications that followed. Mrs. O. H. P. Belmont, formerly Mrs. W. K. Vanderbiit, was in maiden life Miss Alva Smith. Her sister Jennle married Fernando Yznaga, brother of the present Duchess of Manchester. Boclety was de- lighted and came to the wedding with its congratulations. Then came tha divorce @\Ind Mrs. Yznaga shortly after marri Mr. Willie Tiffany. Soclety me more. ndo Yznaga, Mrs. Vander- bilt-Belmont's former brother-in-law, married lovely Mabel Wright, and soc ety, nothing “daunted, again congratu- lafed. The second Mrs. Yznaga went to Soux City and got & divorce and married Count fa Zichy. Boclety looked a little dazed but_came to the front again with good wishes. Clara Stephens when she married Wil- lie. Havemeyer was congratulated with special heartiness. The Havemeyers are another excellent family. But Mrs. Wil- lie got her divorce and married Jack Bloodgood. About this time the Dakota divorce broke with terrific force over t world.. Women of fashion i for a brief time and returned West rejuvenated in appe ce, and di- vorced, of course. The upas tres put forth not only new " but_whols branches of rank follage in scandal and accusation. The situation, oncée painful, rew finally to be regarded as a neve: ailing subject for j Men and women of fashion gave up the task of trying to invite to their homes peo involved in divorce and rems plications. At the Vanderbilt-Fair nup- tials there were assembled under one roof plaintiffs, defendants, ex-wives and ex- husbands in hopeless but undaunted con- gally con- fusion. The Astor-Vanderbilt-Belmon Sloane tangle had to be unraveled its complications. The seating of guests at that wedding br feat worthy of Alexander th Then came the last big rent in d society. On April 28 Mr. at 4 o'clock in the afternoon, was awa ed a decree of divorce from his Jessie Robbins Sloane, with the cuutody of the two Sloane children. fast was a C A Henry Sloane, Over the Precipice Into Death Valley. «“As I a]id, however, I retained sufficient presence of mind to clutch at everything which might impede my prog- ress; but there was not much on that barren slope, The next few seconds were terrible. I knew that if nothing stopped me I was lost. It was while I was sliding these few last feet that the phenomeron so often experienced by men who have been suddenly put in extraordinarily perilous positions occurred in my own case. In a single instant it seemed a8 1f the whole panorama of & busy life, extending over foity-seven wears, was flashed before me.”