Politics and Pomp at the Wedding of the Season

The Rules of Engagement

If you think modern weddings are elaborate, you’ll be astounded by the “pomp and splendor” of Natalie Mai Coe’s wedding on May 19, 1934, right here at Planting Fields.

As the Coe’s only daughter, Natalie spent the years following her official “introduction” to society as only an American heiress could. She toured the continent, threw and attended parties, and spent her inheritance on rare books and exotic furs. Fluent in French, Italian, and Spanish, she was a charming conversationalist in any language and on any topic. At least, that’s what the gossip columns of the time reported.

Though she visited the family’s homes in New York and South Carolina for summers, she spent most of her young adulthood traveling. So much so that, by 1933, W.R. Coe was attempting to get his daughter Italian citizenship. In a letter written to an immigration lawyer, W.R. reported that his daughter felt more like a European than a New Yorker.

Yet that wasn’t the only reason. At the same time, Natalie and her family “emphatically denied” any attachments to a certain Italian diplomat, but letters between Natalie and her clandestine beau reveal otherwise. It wasn’t until 1934, when Natalie was granted Italian citizenship (and converted to Roman Catholicism), that the lovers went public.

A gossip columnist emphasizes their long-awaited engagement, written by Billy Benedick, January 25, 1934.

But why all the secrecy? The Planting Fields Foundation Archive suggests that the delay of engagement was in fact due to serious political tension. In the 1930s, Italy was experiencing a shift towards totalitarianism, heralded by fascist leader Benito Mussolini. Leonardo, at that time a counselor at the Italian embassy in London, was one of Il Duce’s inner circle of hand-picked diplomats.

A news article from 1934 reveals the underlying issue, and the bureaucratic hoops the couple had to jump through to get his permission:

A great deal of diplomatic hocus-pocus has been worked to enable Leonardo to remain in the service of his government and yet marry a foreigner… [Mussolini] forces to resign those who marry anybody except one of their own country women… Leonardo is probably the only known exception.

While we don’t know exactly why or how Leonardo was permitted to keep his job and the girl, it’s clear that, at the very least, he “knew a guy.”

The newly affianced Leonardo and Natalie go to Belmont Park Racetrack to see and be seen, from an article in the Daily News, written by Nancy Rudolph, May 19, 1934.

Florals, Fashion, and Flair – Oh My!

The long-awaited wedding was scheduled for mid-May to optimize Planting Field’s natural beauty. By dawn, the estate’s superintendent, assistants, and gardeners were busy decorating the ground floor of the Main House with plants and flowers from the grounds to create a floral chapel.

Dogwood branches lined the walls, making way only for the masterpiece oil paintings W.R. collected, which peeked out between the pink and white flowers like silent witnesses. The bay window was outfitted with a marble arch flanked by columns of lilies, white orchids from the famous and rare Coe collection, and massive candelabras. Any empty space was filled with daffodils, roses, and lilacs.

As the guests filed in for the noon ceremony, a musical program designed and conducted by Saint Patrick Cathedral’s organist Pietro Yon and accompanied by a harpist, violinists, and a male choir ensemble began, filling the large room with the resonant sounds of classical wedding marches and religious songs. W.R., not one to spare any expenses for his daughter’s special day, had to have the organ specially installed for the day.

The groom and his ushers, fellow Italian diplomats and ambassadors, wore the official dress uniforms of the Italian Diplomatic Corps, deep navy-blue suits with red velvet collars, elaborate gold thread embroidery, heavy gold epaulets, swords sheathed on belts stiff with gold, and cocked hats with white ostrich trimmings. Each wore half a dozen military medals across their chests.

The wedding party in full regalia, from an article in Daily News, 1934.

Following behind them was the bridal party, draped in palest green and yellow chiffon, plus matching horsehair hats. They carried long, flowing garlands of yellow roses and daisies, which swished against the floor behind them during their approach.

But the real showstopper was Natalie herself, elegant and resplendent in a deceptively simple ivory gown, folds of satin rippling at her collar and waist, ending in a long train. Her veil was a lace cap from which yards and yards of tulle billowed behind her. One hand grasped her father’s elbow, and the other held a prayer book bound in the same creamy satin of her dress, a rosary ending in a diamond-studded Maltese cross dangling from between its pages.

Natalie’s beautiful bridal portrait gives us a closer look at the details of her elegant ensemble, 1934.

The service was performed by Apostolic Delegate Amleto Giovanni Cicognani, with assistance from the rector of the more local Saint Dominic’s Church in Oystery Bay. His address, emotional and heartfelt, included the following advice:

Your love must be self-sacrificing, sanctifying, constant; it must ever accompany you on the journey through life; with the grace of God, it will be your comfort and strength in sorrow and trial, as it will certainly enhance the joys and pleasures of life.

A rare grainy image of the wedding party in the Breakfast Room, 1934.

Immediately following the ceremony was an outdoor wedding breakfast, with small tables covered in gardenias sprinkled across the terrace and around the sunken garden. Across over a dozen newspapers, in both English and Italian, the wedding was heralded as the “swankiest,” “most picturesque,” and “most memorable” wedding of 1934.

Natalie & Leonardo set sail on their honeymoon in Europe aboard the S.S.Rex, 1934.