at a social gathering that took place in early 1911.When they were introduced and began to chat about Italy, art and monuments, both immediately felt a deep, comfortable connection. Beside Lucy, Kingsley could feel himself thawing out, relaxing and forgetting his usual self-consciousness. Kingsley may have been somewhat of a loner but he had always enjoyed the company of intelligent, cultured and literary peers. It was most unusual, though, to meet a woman who possessed Lucy’s knowledge of art and architecture, an undoubted intelligence and an innate charm. Even Kingsley’s shyness could not prevent him from chatting all evening with the bright, dark-haired woman who exuded such confidence and social grace. He agreed to loan Lucy some photographs of Italian architecture and so another meeting was arranged.1
When they first met, Kingsley was 28 while Lucy was 35.The fact that Kingsley was seven years Lucy’s junior was no deterrent. Kingsley failed to notice that Lucy’s hair was dappled with tiny grey streaks. He had never been interested in pretty, painted girls who giggled and flaunted their physical attributes. From the moment that Kingsley set eyes on Lucy Bryant Wallace there was only one woman he wanted in his life. A series of meetings resulted and their relationship quickly flourished.
Lucy was much smaller than Kingsley, slightly plump and broad-faced. Lucy was of practical disposition and was a great organizer, whereas Kingsley was a romantic, a poet and a dreamer. Lucy had been educated at Miss Porter’s School in Farmington, Connecticut. She had later studied at Yale and Columbia Universities.2 Her pedigree was exemplary: well educated, highly intelligent and independently wealthy. Lucy was almost a carbon copy of Kingsley’s beloved mother, Louisa.
Lucy admired Kingsley’s abilities as a scholar and a writer. She was drawn to his quiet charm, his steady, honourable character and to all the attributes he possessed that made him a gentleman. Although Kingsley was reserved and shy among strangers, he was kind, sensitive and articulate among close friends. Lucy worked as a schoolteacher by choice and her financial status gave her great freedom, placing her on an equal social footing with Kingsley.
Lucy was the youngest daughter of Thomas and Ellen (nee Bryant) Wallace.3 Thomas was born in England and immigrated to America in 1832, aged 6 years. His family moved to Derby in New Haven County, Connecticut, in 1841. He worked at various trades before establishing Wallace & Sons in Ansonia, Connecticut, specializing in rolling metal and drawing wire. Thomas married Ellen Bryant from Massachusetts in 1857 and they had seven children. Their sixth child, Lucy Bryant, was born on 23 January 1876 in Ansonia, Connecticut.4
By 1880, Wallace & Sons had become the largest brass plant in the Naugatuck Valley, elevating the Wallace family to great wealth and social standing.5 When Thomas Wallace retired from business the family moved to 346 West 71st Street, New York. Lucy’s eldest sister, Elizabeth, married James B. Waller, a member of the prosperous real- estate family in Chicago.6 The Wallers’ attendance at society functions and events was frequently reported in Chicago newspapers. They mingled with the rich and famous, including the young beauty Miss Hazel Martyn, later to become the wife of Irish artist Sir John Lavery.7 This further elevated the Wallaces’ social position, as the Wallers were ranked among Chicago’s elite for their lavish hospitality and generous patronage.8
Kingsley corresponded with Lucy frequently during 1911. In the early months of their courtship, Kingsley addressed her as ‘Dear Miss Wallace’.9 They wrote about journeys undertaken, cultural events attended, art and books. During June 1911, Kingsley reported that he had been playing tennis and had also attended a Russian ballet in the Winter Garden in New York.10 By July the letters had become less formal and Kingsley addressed his lady friend as ‘My Dear Lucy’.11 He also began to escort Lucy to her school each morning.12
On 24 July he sent Lucy a copy of Medieval Architecture. In the same letter he chatted about various events he had attended, including a yachting race that ‘made my hair curl with excitement’.13
Even in these early letters to Lucy, Kingsley’s love of adventure surfaces. While Lucy was touring the West Coast, Kingsley was at home reading but very much envying Lucy’s own adventures: ‘I thoroughly envy you the experience. I hate hard climbs while I am doing them – always get as scared as a kitten and never fail to vow to myself that if I get down safely I shall never no never try a mountain again – and yet one always does.’14
Later that year Lucy was introduced to Kingsley’s uncle, Schuyler Merritt, and his cousins. Kingsley wrote to her from Pittsburg, apologizing for their lack of warmth at that first meeting: ‘sorry the Merritt’s call was stiff. I foresaw it would be however. The Hoyt blood is always that way, but I am sure you will find that they warm up when you get to know them better.’15
Kingsley also confided in Lucy that, despite his closeness with his brother, Louis, there was a sense of formality whenever he dined with his family:
Occasionally, I go to dine with my family and occasionally my family comes to our house to dine. There is no one I ever see at Stamford except relatives. When one dines with relatives everyone tries to make conversation, but nobody ever quite succeeds. Usually for the first ten minutes (immediately after the cocktails)... everybody talks at once as at a suffragette meeting. Then half the people stop to listen to the other half. Then everybody listens. At long intervals some valiant soul makes a banal remark, which some other equally valiant soul tries to answer...And at nine-thirty everyone goes home to bed. It’s a merry town.16
It was during December 1911 that Kingsley and Lucy became engaged. Lucy was beside herself with delight and appears to have been taken completely by surprise when Kingsley asked her to become his wife:
Dear, dear Kingsley,
My first engaged letter must be to him who caused it -must it not? I am so stunned, dear, I do not know what I am saying, so perhaps it is as well I am beginning with you.
My family are surprised chiefly at the suddenness of it.
Father was so sweet. He said ‘I liked that young man’s face the moment I saw him. He is a gentleman and he is alright.’ I am so happy about it.17
After the engagement, Lucy’s natural spontaneity and openness began to flow freely throughout the pages of her letters. Many happy afternoons were spent in her garden, sitting close to Kingsley, stealing hugs and kisses that set her heart racing. She simply rejoiced in the depth of her love for Kingsley: ‘Sweet adorable Kingsley... I must wait forty-four hours before you can hold me in your arms again.’18
Lucy’s letters are full of playfulness and sheer exuberance. She can hardly believe that, at the age of 35, she has finally found love. Her endearments are full of sweetness and light, more like the sentiments of a young girl than the expressions of a mature, sophisticated woman. On 26 December she wrote again to Kingsley: ‘Sweetheart (How will you address me, I wonder!) Did you enjoy the trip out with your good friend? Did your attention never waver for one second as he discoursed upon the significance of the lotus in Egyptian art? Ah, Kingsley, dear, how I wish you might have been talking to me instead.’19
11. Letter from Lucy Bryant Wallace to Kingsley Porter, dated 26 December 1911.
Harvard University Archives, HUG 1706.114, Correspondence of Arthur Kingsley
Porter and Lucy W. Porter, 1911-25; 1911-12: After engagement.
The shy and reserved Kingsley appears to have gone through his own transformation. Much of the stiff formality seems to have fallen away and, instead, Kingsley’s romantic and poetic
