For Reading Jackie: Her Autobiography in Books (NY: Doubleday/Nan A Talese, 2010, published as a paperback by Anchor Books, Nov

2011) I interviewed Jacqueline Onassiss authors. Louis Auchincloss (1915-2010) was a lawyer, a prolific novelist who wrote about upper crust life in Manhattan, and a member of the family into which Jackies mother Janet married after her marriage to Jack Bouvier ended. Auchincloss did two books of non-fiction with Jackie: False Dawn (1984) about influential women, principally in eighteenth-century France, and Maverick in Mauve (1983), the 1890s diary of Adele Sloane, a member of the Vanderbilt family who was his wifes grandmother. Jackie also commissioned long historical essays from Auchincloss for Tiffanys 150 Years (1987) and Unseen Versailles (1981). The following is the memorandum I wrote up for myself after visiting Auchincloss in New York in the year before he died. I also have a Louis Auchincloss, part II, which is the transcript of a long telephone conversation with him, which I will post if anyone is interested. William Kuhn, December 2011

Louis Auchincloss Talks about Jackie Onassis Part I Memorandum of a Visit to His Apartment on Park Avenue, 11 am to 1230 pm, Tuesday 24th March 2009

A distinguished building on Park between 89 & 90th on a cold spring day. Bright sunshine, wintry wind. The front door opens on to a long mirrored foyer with floor tiles in a black and white checkerboard pattern. Two doormen. One at a computer. They sent me up to the 14th floor without calling Auchincloss and said the door on the right hand side. Only two apartments per floor. I stood for quite a while in a tiny corridor outside the elevator, decorated with his wifes wall drawing, c 1960, of the apartments locale near Central Park. A picture of the two of them drawn in the lower corner. A young man, possibly a personal trainer, let me in and asked me if Id rung twice. I said Yes. He gave me a firm handshake and left, motioning toward the living room where he said Auchincloss was sitting. Hes in there. Another entrance hall of checkerboard tiling, but this seemed to be cheap linoleum, not terrazzo or marble. A black maid, not in uniform, was making a racket in the kitchen and continued vacuuming during my visit. Auchincloss was sitting in an easy chair before a big pair of windows, with old fashioned Venetian blinds, in a sitting room that faced North. Two opposing groups of seating. One peach & white striped sofa next to him; another rust velvet sofa across the room. There was portrait of a Versailles interior in yellow by Nattier; he told me the authenticity was disputed. A contemporary landscape was over the fireplace with at right, badly framed, a photo of an oil portrait of him, the same one Marly Rusoff showed me on the top floor of the Century Club.

It had been decorated many years ago, perhaps in the 1960s. He had on a pair of khaki trousers, decent shoes, a blue shirt and a navy vee neck sweater, with some crusts and stains of food on it. He was sharp and compos mentis. He smelled vaguely of pee. He was a vast snob, but sometimes amusing about it and self aware enough to be making fun of himself. Sometimes not. He is interested in Henry Jamess, Edith Whartons and Prousts world, but he hasnt their detachment, their irony or their depth. One imagines him looking at old volumes of Debretts, the Almanach de Gotha, and the NY Social Register with a jewelers concentration, but perhaps without their love of sparkle or satire or appreciation of magic. He has the sharp look of an eagle, with rather a pointy feeling about his face and old hornrimmed spectacles. Of Jacqueline Onassis he said She worked under certain disadvantages as an editor who was also the worlds most famous woman. People would do anything for her. Also, she worked only three days a week and you cant get to be a great editor that way. Of her marriage to Onassis, he said She cared too much about money. He said that someone had remarked about the time of the wedding in 1968, I knew the Bouvier girls cared about money but I didnt know they cared that much. This was a line in a play he had seen. It had gotten a great laugh from the audience. [This is ironic coming from him as he says in A Writers Capital (1974) that he always cared about who had money and who didnt. His parents thought this was vulgar and were embarrassed about his interest in high society fortunes.] I said perhaps Lees marriage to Michael Canfield, adoptive son of Cass Canfield, publisher of Harper & Row, suggested both young women were interested in writing. He said Michael Canfield was not considered a great match a-TALL. Cass had a lot of money but was not going to give it to this adoptive son, rumored to be the bastard son of a peer. I cant exaggerate how unimportant he was. He also wondered whether Lee was as intelligent and bookish as Jackie was. Jane Canfield was best friends with my mother in law. They asked me to lunch in Paris. He ran into old Cass downstairs at the Plaza Athne where they were staying. Cass was shocked, Well leave, because Lee was openly shacked up with Onassis in the hotel. Auchincloss said Jackies marriage to Onassis had dissolved quite early. He remembered they were already on the outs when he ran into Jackie in New York soon after the marriage. Are you going to keep your name? he asked her. He had been surprised and felt dropped when she was in the White House and didnt invite him there. But he believed her mind was completely visual, and when she didnt see him, she

didnt think of him. Others had also felt dropped. When she first ran into him in New York, she said Louis where have you BEEN? I asked whether she had changed between the young girl he had met who was about to marry John Husted in the 1950s, and the editor at Doubleday in the 1980s. She must have changed, he said, but Im not sure I know how or where. After a pause, I didnt know her very well. He observed that Jackie liked Wilmarth Lewis, Uncle Lefty, and his magnificent Horace Walpole collection. I said Nancy Tuckerman remembered Jackie going over there when they were both at Farmington. He asked cautiously if Nancy were still around. I said yes. This led to a remembered slight over the launch party for Maverick in Mauve. He said he didnt think Nancy Tuckerman had much influence over Jackie. They had decided to have the launch party at the Museum of the City of New York and a small exhibition had been specially arranged. Auchincloss had spent $2000 to have the party. Johnny Sargent, the then head of Doubleday, added a little so there could be proper glasses. Auchincloss had threatened to have paper cups if he didnt. There was quite an extensive guest list. Everyone accepted. Jackie was to be the hostess. Nancy called to say there would be too many photographers there. JKO will feel like its a fishbowl. She wasnt coming. Auchincloss replied that he would consider it to be an act of non-friendship if she didnt come. In the end Jackie did come. She came early and stayed late. He concluded you had to know how to treat her and not everyone did. If you told her she was being a shit, she responded. You had to remember that she was the only woman on the planet to whom everyone said yes. Sometimes you had to tell her, no. She was so used to doing exactly what she wanted. I was outraged that I had been talked into this party and then she proposed at the last minute not to come. Mrs. Adele Burden (his wifes grandmother, the Florence Adele Sloane whose diary he showed to Jackie and which she published as Maverick in Mauve) was very grand. In the 1890s she had the great social distinction of being mentioned, independently of her parents, on one of the New York 400 lists. He remembered her saying that her cousins were embarrassed by their very great wealth; I just spent it she remarked, unconcerned. The Burdens lost their shirts in the Troy ironworks. James Burden stayed in Troy; Adele wouldnt live there. She had died about 1960 and left written instructions to be buried in a broken down mausoleum in Troy. The family had to repair it at some expense.

Originally he wanted Maverick to have copious footnotes. Jackie pointed out they were boring. He agreed to let them go. You were apt to lose arguments when your editor was a former first lady, he said. He remembered going over family photographs from 1890s in a cardboard box with Jackie. She chose every one that went into the book. But I think I chose the cover because thats irresistible: the dog. The Bouviers were not really in anywhere. Jack Bouvier was a great liability at any party because he drank too much. He did come to Lees wedding reception. He whirled Janet around the floor. He looked like a big sexy negro, because he had a perpetual George Hamilton tan. He danced Janet around when she didnt want it at all. Someone remarked to Auchincloss as they were both looking at them on the dance floor Its like Lochinvar. We thought hed whisk Janet away with him. [Lochinvar appears in an 1808 poem of Walter Scotts, Marmion. His suit of a young woman has been denied. He shows up at her wedding, demands a dance with her and then abducts her while the bridegroom and two families stand around uselessly.] Hughdie [Hugh D Auchincloss, Jackies stepfather] was not glamorous at all; not attractive. Why did Jackie like the French 18th Century I asked him. Because it was the most beautiful era of decoration thats ever been. She was much criticized for what she did to the White House. He remembered someone saying Too damned French. Sister Parrish criticized her too, saying She hadnt a shred of taste. She didnt have any New York social life until she was a widow. She gave a Christmas party every year until she gave it up. A lot of the Kennedy family was there, fewer Auchinclosses, as well as friends. He remembered once he and Lee & Jackie Bouvier were in Paris together in the 1950s. They were driving out to Chantilly. Jackie, youre driving too fast, he told her. She nearly ran over an old woman who had to quickly step back on to the curb, crossing herself and thanking God shed been saved. Jackie remarked coolly, She should thank God for my brakes, and added Dont tell cousin Hughdie. He concluded she was tough when she wanted to be. He remembered that the American head of the Friends of Versailles, a rich man whod given a lot of money so who was put in some influential position on a board, was bad mouthing our book about Versailles all over town. I dont remember discussing Newport with her. She knew Newport quite well. I used to see her there. His parents had only rented a house there late in life. I remember staying in Hammersmith.

Of Janet he said that she had an awful temper, Shed strike Jackie. Then shed be cooing like a dove a few minutes later. Janet had black moods. She didnt like JFKs girlfriends. He remembered some significant time at a social event at the Metropolitan Art Museum where hed been able to slight Philippe de Montebello. Tables were set up in the big hall. He found Jackie and they walked by de Montebellos table without acknowledging him; Jackie sat at Auchinclosss table when P de M would have preferred she sit with him, or so he thought. Tom Hoving was a son of Tiffany tycoon, Walter Hoving. Of Diana Vreeland: She was an ass. I thought her taste was terrible. Later he softened, She was fun. I tried teasing him along the lines Marly Rusoff suggested, that hed been against the admission of women to the Century Club. I didnt. I voted for them. Jackie was briefly a member. She and Brooke Astor were among the first female members. But It didnt interest her. She thought it was depressing. Auchincloss wanted to talk about Jackies boyfriends pre Maurice Tempelsman. Pete Hamill, now he was an attractive man. He was the sexiest man ever. And that Englishman [Lord Harlech] was also good looking. He remembered seeing Jackie and Hamill in a restaurant mainly for kids; he implied they were in there because they didnt think theyd be recognized. He dragged his boys over to say hello, Dont you like this restaurant? he asked. Perhaps this was a tease about her incognito. We did a history of Tiffany together. Auchincloss remembered telling Jackie Ill do it if the price is right. Platt [who also worked on it] was a popular bachelor. He used to organize the balls of beauty. Auchincloss thought he was tedious. He said that hed put in the text Its a relief to turn from Henry Platts balls to Jackie asked him to take it out. Olivier Bernier would have been very much Jackies dish. He was forever opening up European castles so that rich ladies from the Metropolitan in NY could lunch there. Jackie had first proposed that Auchincloss do the Duchesse dAbrantss memoirs from the Napoleonic era. He didnt want to. In conversation he remembered saying to her, Jackie, Im trying to tell you something. Oh, youre not going to do it? No. Im not. She wasnt used to being told no. He had written an essay for either Avenue Magazine or Quest on what it was like to work with Jackie as an editor. We spent 20 minutes looking for this in his cabinets. He had many of his

articles and stories in plastic slipcovers and filed in 3-ring leather binders. We couldnt find it. There was a binder about his wifes funeral. One of the items showcased was a letter of condolence from Jackie. Hed told me earlier he wouldnt sell that one, though hed sold others of his Jackie letters. The funniest thing was when I asked him to sign my copy of Maverick in Mauve. He struggled with the black fountain pen. This is a bad pen, he murmured. Then, This is a Terrible Pen, out loud. Shall I sign Louis Auchincloss or Florence Adele Sloane? he asked. Camp. Asked why Jackie would have felt an outsider in New York society, he said Well, the Bouviers werent important. He also showed me a little framed print of ladies in a carriage, hanging in the hallway. The Empress Eugnie. I meant to give it as a gift, but kept it! Gave them something else. He pointed it out in the hallway and wanted to talk about it. Now he was alone and delaying my departure, a stranger who was nothing to him, by commenting on various works of art in the hall.