A Woman of Independent Means (41 page)

Count Fabrini took charge of our sightseeing during our stay in Rome and insisted we balance each ancient ruin with a modern accomplishment. He is convinced Italy will soon surpass its ancient glory under the stewardship of Mussolini.

This country seems to require figures of absolute authority at the head of both church and state. Between “Il Papa” and “Il Duce,” an Italian has very little opportunity to think for himself. However, there is no doubt Mussolini has made enormous improvements in the economic life of the country, and apparently he has just begun.

Count Fabrini assured us a trip to Sicily like the one we were planning would have been much more dangerous before Mussolini. Under his regime all three thousand members of the notorious Black Hand gang have been captured and successfully convicted, and they are now doing hard labor in prison. Apparently they had been captured before but no judge would convict them. This time Mussolini added his weight to the scales of justice by threatening any judge who did not convict with the loss of his job.

But despite Count Fabrini's enthusiasm for Mussolini's many accomplishments, I find Rome's past more interesting than her future. I could happily spend the rest of my life here, descending layer by layer into history, imagining the architecture that once encompassed every arch and the chronicles witnessed by every column.

A gala ball was held in our hotel one night to raise money for Russian refugees. After a strenuous day of sightseeing, Exa rebelled at the thought of dancing a step. However, Eleanor and I were fascinated at the sight of so much royalty assembled under one roof, and we bought tickets for twenty lire apiece (the dollar is now worth seventeen and dropping hourly). The Cossack choir sang and Rachmaninoff played the piano for the glittering crowd which included the king of Greece and an Indian rajah and his entourage.

When the dancing began, our hotel manager graciously introduced Eleanor and me to a series of handsome partners. I was particularly charmed by an Italian history professor. He spoke more gracefully than he danced, however, and we soon left the dance floor for a quiet stroll outside. Before we said good-night, I had signed up for his lecture series, “Walking and Talking in Ancient Rome.”

He proved a delightful guide, making every scheduled site come to life with his vivid commentary. In addition to the lecture tours for which I subscribed, he took me on a private tour of the gardens at Tivoli. I have never responded to a place with such a keen sense of physical pleasure. I was actually trembling in the midst of that myriad of fountains. I finally had to rest on a marble bench secluded in a grove of cypress trees in order to recover my equilibrium. Professor Panetti was most kind and solicitous, saying that to someone of a Latin temperament the feelings I was experiencing for the first time were a common occurrence. Finally my knees stopped shaking enough for me to stand and we continued our tour.

On our way back into the city Professor Panetti pointed out to me the Villa Sciarra, formerly owned by an American woman. She gave it to Mussolini, who in turn gave it to the people of Rome, but the peacocks she bought still stroll in the garden. Italy clearly had the same effect on her that it is having on me. I came to Italy to rescue my daughter but instead I seem to have succumbed to its spell just as she has.

Love to all of you,
Bess

May 2, 1933
Naples

Andrew Steed
Calhoun College
Yale University
New Haven, Connecticut

 

Dearest Andrew,

This is the first time I have been to Europe without you and your ever-present sketchbook. I miss your wicked habit of sketching the tourists looking at the sights as a way of avoiding the sights yourself. I still treasure your sketch of the fat German tourists staring with such visible lack of appreciation at the
Mona Lisa
. One wonders why those people bother to travel at all.

We are on our way back to Florence after a weekend in Sicily with Count Fabrini and his family. Our visit did more to illustrate to Eleanor what marriage to an Italian is like than anything I could have told her. They were charming and gracious to us, of course, but no American woman could help but be offended by the authoritarian manner in which an Italian man rules his family. I cannot imagine any woman who is used to having her opinions received with respect submitting by choice to such arbitrary authority. Fortunately neither can Eleanor and, to my great joy and delight, she said good-bye to Count Fabrini and left him in Sicily with his family—forever, I trust. She is traveling back to Florence with us. At the moment that is as far as she plans to go but once there, I hope I can persuade her to pack her things and return home.

Your spring vacation visit with the Wainwrights sounds most pleasant. They must be proud of Roger. I am very impressed to be personally acquainted with the new editor of the Harvard
Crimson
. I had always hoped you would try for a position on the Yale paper but verbal expression appears to hold little attraction for either of my children. Have you considered submitting any of your drawings to the paper? Political cartoonists are also held in high regard.

Sam will be disappointed you have decided against taking the job he offered you at the plant this summer. Having attended a trade school himself, he considers hard physical labor a necessary corollary of a college education and feels everything you learn in books should be balanced by direct application of your knowledge in some salaried position.

However, I can sympathize with your desire to enjoy to the fullest your last summer of leisure, and you have my permission to join the Wainwrights on the Cape. On one condition: I will expect you to meet our ship when it docks in New York on June 29. In fact, why don't you invite Roger to be your guest for a weekend in Manhattan, beginning the day we arrive? It would be a gracious way to repay him and at the same time provide an attractive escort for Eleanor in the happy event she agrees to come home with me.

See if you can arrange theater tickets for
Design for Living
. I hear it is marvelous and I am always fascinated by unconventional living arrangements.

I look forward to our homecoming. One of the nicest things about traveling to Europe from Texas is coming back by way of New York.

Love,
Mummy

May 6, 1933
Cas' Alta
Firenze, Italia

Dear Sam,

The more I see of Italian family life, the happier I am to have a husband like you waiting for me at home, one who treats his wife as an equal, not merely an accessory. How I look forward to sitting across from you at supper again, listening to you describe your new profit-sharing plan.

I have been very encouraged about the state of our economy by Walter Lippmann's articles in
The New York Herald Tribune
, which I read every day. Even you will finally have to admit Roosevelt made a wise decision in taking the United States off the gold standard. However, I think you would be wise to put the wage increases you are proposing on a “contingency basis” until you are completely convinced that they can be justified by increased production.

The drive here through the green valleys of winter grass was beautiful. Mussolini is determined to end the importation of wheat and make Italy self-supporting, and judging from the amount of land under cultivation, I predict he will be successful. I worry about what will happen to the countries with wheat to sell when they lose Italy as a customer but that does not seem to concern anyone here.

I am living like a lady of leisure in Florence. The strenuous sight-seeing of the previous weeks has left me exhausted and unable to ignore any longer the recurring back pains that are the inevitable toll of cobblestone streets.

I have been greatly impressed with Eleanor's Italian “mother” of the past year, Signora Manolo, and the manner in which she runs her household. No wonder Eleanor has been so happy here. There is only one servant, but she is a marvel, getting up before dawn to clean the house and do the marketing, preparing three-course luncheons and four-course dinners, with a change of plates for each course.

I just wish I could bring an Italian domestic home with me. I asked Signora Manolo about wages and was amazed to learn she pays her servant only two hundred lire a month. At the old exchange rate of twenty lire to the dollar, which Eleanor was getting when she arrived, this is only ten dollars a month, but even at the current rate of fifteen lire to the dollar, that is still quite a bargain compared to the cost of household help in our country.

However, I could not be persuaded to make my home in this country at any price. Even in a private residence like Signora Manolo's, guests are required to show their passports to the police. Apparently there have been numerous attempts on Mussolini's life (none of them reported in the Italian press, which is only interested in love triangles), and the police are constantly on the lookout for political dissidents. Private citizens are subjected to strict laws governing all aspects of their behavior. For example, it is against the law for an unmarried woman of any station to receive a gentleman caller in her bedroom. Police have the right to enter any home whenever they have the least suspicion any of these laws are being broken.

Eleanor has finally agreed with me that it is dangerous to continue living in a country where the government has the right to intrude so freely on the private life of its citizens, so we will be sailing home at the end of June. It is thrilling to see how much she has grown in the five years since our last trip together, both as a person and in her appreciation of all that Europe has to offer. I was overwhelmed with pride as we stood in the dimly lit Church of St. Carmine and she pointed out to me the first stomach muscles in Renaissance art (on Masaccio's Adam).

She is very serious about continuing the study of art she began here and would like to take an apartment in New York in the fall. I cannot bear to think about losing her again so soon but at least we will have her in Dallas for the summer. It will be nice to be a family again—albeit briefly and without Andrew.

All my love,
Bess

June 15, 1934
New Haven

Dear Lydia and Manning,

Sam and I watched with great pride while Andrew received his diploma today. I just wish his father could have been here. When I think of the mark he made in the business world with only a Texas diploma, I rejoice at how many doors a Yale degree will open to his son. Andrew is still undecided about a career. All he knows for certain is that he will never set foot in another classroom, so graduate school of any kind is out of the question.

Eleanor met our train in New York and we spent several happy days there with her. Her apartment is tiny but she has made the most of the available space. She would rather be alone in a crowded apartment than share a spacious one and I heartily concur. Dwight Davis, who is now a successful decorator and much happier than he was as a stockbroker, generously provided advice and professional discounts, so the apartment is exquisitely furnished.