There is a mesmerising portrait above the fireplace in the First State Room of Blenheim Palace. Painted in Paris by society artist Carolus-Duran, it depicts a beautiful 17-year-old. Dark hair piled on top of her delicate head, she is enveloped in virginal white, a pink sash draped from her waist; the tip of a pink slipper peeping from soft folds cascading to the ground. At first glance, this portrait might seem the kind commissioned by many an adoring parent. In fact, it tells a more mercenary story; a story that would change the course of Blenheim’s history.
Consuelo Vanderbilt was a scion of the Gilded Age – the American boom-era of the late 19th century. Her mother, Alva, was an ambitious multi-millionaire – agrande dame of New York - determined her daughter should marry an English Duke. Indeed, the portrait was Alva’s advertisement, designed to show off her daughter’s attributes. The Duke she had in mind was Marlborough.
During a visit to England, Consuelo was
