Inside the scandal-ridden legacy of the Vanderbilt dynasty

Anderson Cooper is taking his family’s drama to the small screen with a television adaptation of his book about the Vanderbilt dynasty after saying their scandalous history is like ‘The Crown on steroids.’ 

The CNN anchor, 55, teamed up with historian and novelist Katherine Howe to write about his ancestors’ legacy in Vanderbilt: The Rise and Fall of an American Dynasty, which was published in 2021.  

Amazon Prime Video is developing a drama series based on the book, titled Vanderbilt, Deadline reported on Wednesday. Patrick Macmanus, who created the shows Dr. Death and The Girl from Plainville, will write the script and executive produce. 

Anderson will also executive produce the project, which is being billed as ‘an epic drama chronicling four hundred years of the rise and fall of one of America’s most powerful dynasties.’

The CNN anchor, 55, is the great-great-great grandson of shipping and railroad tycoon Cornelius Vanderbilt and the son of fashion designer Gloria Vanderbilt (pictured in 2010) 

The journalist is the great-great-great grandson of Cornelius Vanderbilt, a poor farmer from Staten Island who became the richest self-made man in America with a ‘pathological obsession for money.’

The magnate’s vast shipping and railroad empire launched his family and multiple generations into stratospheric wealth, cementing their position as American royalty. By the time Cornelius died in 1877, he had amassed a $100 million fortune — roughly $2.8 billion in today’s money — more than the entire U.S. Treasury at the time. 

But within a few generations, the money was all but gone, depleted by heirs who only knew how to ‘live well, marry well’ and spend lavishly.

As Anderson is set to turn his family’s history into a scripted television series, FEMAIL has taken a look back at his depiction of his larger-than-life relatives in his book, from his great-great-great maternal grandfather, Cornelius, to his mother, Gloria.

From rags to riches: How a shrewd and money-hungry Cornelius ‘Commodore’ Vanderbilt built his empire

Cornelius ‘Commodore’ Vanderbilt (pictured) was an upstart from Staten Island who quit school at the age of 11 and began working in his father’s ferry business. Born into hardscrabble rural obscurity, he turned his small-scale ferry business into a transportation empire. When he died in 1877, he had amassed $100 million – more than the entire U.S. Treasury at the time

By 1873, Cornelius had taken control of what was then known as the Harlem Railroad and merged it with the Hudson River and New York Central Railroad companies. This led him to commission a new station that united all three railroads under one roof. The Grand Central Depot, which would later be finished by his son, is the iconic Grand Central Terminal of today 

Anderson Cooper’s earliest ancestor was an undistinguished indentured farmer named Jan Aertsen, who arrived in the Dutch colony of New Amsterdam (modern-day New York City) during the 1650s. Aertsen was from the village of Bilt in the Utrecht region of Holland and his name was recorded ‘van der Bilt,’ or ‘from the Bilt’ — which evolved later to ‘Vanderbilt.’

The family fortune wasn’t made until the nineteenth century when Cornelius ‘Commodore’ Vanderbilt, an upstart from Staten Island who quit school at the age of 11, began working in his father’s ferry business. He was born into poverty in 1794 and known as a headstrong, stubborn, and manipulative child who was willing to risk almost anything to make money.

When he was 15, Cornelius used a $100 loan from his mother to buy his own boat for piloting passengers through the rough currents between Staten Island and Manhattan. Within six months, he had run his own father out of the ferry business.

‘The wharves were the crucible in which Cornelius Vanderbilt’s acquisitive hunger was forged,’ Anderson wrote in his book. ‘He drank and whored and didn’t stand down from a fight.’

Cornelius married his first cousin Sophia Johnson Vanderbilt when he was 19 years old, and together, they had 13 children, 12 of whom would survive into adulthood.

‘His rise was dizzying,’ Anderson wrote of his great-great-great grandfather. ‘He possessed a genius and a mania for making money, but his obsession with material wealth would border on pathological, and the pathology born of that wealth would go on to infect each successive generation in different ways’

He expanded into steamboats and made a fortune in shipping by monopolizing the waterways around New York during the 1830s. Then he shifted attention to trains when he bought up local railroads and merged them into a vast transportation network that stretched across the United States.

‘His rise was dizzying,’ Anderson said of his great-great-great grandfather. ‘He possessed a genius and a mania for making money, but his obsession with material wealth would border on pathological, and the pathology born of that wealth would go on to infect each successive generation in different ways.’

Despite his enormous wealth, money did not buy Cornelius respectability among the old guard in Washington Square Park. The Knickerbockers, Schermerhorns, and Lorillards found the tobacco-chewing, philandering, profanity-prone, illiterate to be vulgar.

‘Money was his sole concern: making it, spending it, and making more. New York society could ignore him, but in the end, they couldn’t ignore his money. No one could,’ Anderson wrote.

Cornelius was a notoriously terrible family man. He disregarded his nine daughters because they wouldn’t be able to carry on the Vanderbilt name and had always wanted more than three sons.

In 1846, he committed his long-suffering wife to an insane asylum by claiming that she was unstable during her ‘change of life.’ In truth, he was having an affair with his children’s governess and wanted to enjoy her company freely.

A month after Sophia’s death, Cornelius carried out a complex and absurd relationship with two clairvoyant sisters that would last several years. They were famous for their beauty and ‘magnetic healing’ powers and Cornelius took particular interest in the nubile 22-year-old sister named Tennessee Claflin. By then he had already developed a serious interest in spiritualism and began attending regular seances.

When Cornelius died on January 4, 1877, he left his entire fortune — estimated to be $100 million — to his oldest son, William ‘Billy’ Henry Vanderbilt.

On his deathbed, Cornelius gave William one last haunting instruction: ‘Keep the money together.’ Nobody could have expected then, how far the Vanderbilt family would collapse under its pathology for greed.

Family drama: An inheritance feud after the Commodore’s death leads to a scandalous court case and suicide 

Cornelius left his entire fortune to his oldest son, Willian Henry Vanderbilt (pictured), effectively disinheriting his ten other children. The controversial will led to a sensational trial that aired all the Vanderbilt’s dirty laundry. His siblings accused him of fraud, claiming he wrongly manipulated their ailing father on his deathbed

William Henry settled with his wayward brother Cornelius ‘Cornie’ Jeremiah Vanderbilt (pictured) for a pittance sum of $1 million. But the trial had all but broken Cornie, who killed himself at the Glenham Hotel on Fifth Avenue in 1882

Cornelius Vanderbilt’s controversial decision to disinherit his nine daughters and other living son, Cornelius ‘Cornie’ Jeremiah Vanderbilt, set the stage for one of the most salacious trials in the century. 

The backstabbing family drama resulted in a court case that played itself out in tawdry headlines that exposed the sordid happenings behind the curtains at the late Cornelius’ home at 10 Washington Place.

Cornie was a perpetual disappointment from the moment he was born. He suffered from epilepsy, which the Commodore took to be a sign of weakness from a young age. As an adult, Cornie proved to be just as much of an embarrassment when he didn’t share his father’s hunger for moneymaking, nor his talent for it.

Always in financial straits, Cornie repeatedly leaned on his famous last name to procure loans, which he squandered on his fondness for drinking, gambling, and prostitutes. The Commodore had him institutionalized twice for ‘weakness of character’ at the same asylum he had also committed his wife years before.

The jilted siblings charged their older brother, William Henry Vanderbilt, with fraud, claiming that he wrongly influenced their ailing father to his own advantage.

One shocking eyewitness testimony alleged that William paid a phony clairvoyant to evoke his deceased mother during a trance session with the Commodore on his deathbed and declare that he should be the sole inheritor of the estate.

Another stunning allegation against William claimed that he attempted to soil Cornie’s reputation by having him impersonated by a depraved lookalike and followed by detectives that reported his debauched habits at brothels to the Commodore.

Meanwhile, Cornie’s vices and multiple stints in debtors’ jail were laid bare for the public to see and feast upon. In the end, William settled with his wayward brother for a pittance sum of $1 million.

But the trial had all but broken Cornie. In April 1882, Cornelius Jeremiah Vanderbilt took his own life at the Glenham Hotel on Fifth Avenue with his male ‘companion’ in the room next door.

‘It was almost as though the Vanderbilt fortune itself was Cornie’s affliction — the access to it, the lack of access to it, the assumption of it, the theft of it, his father’s affection for it,’ Anderson wrote. The money a ‘contagion,’ he said, ‘preying upon Cornie’s body and on his mind.’

William Henry Vanderbilt doubles the family’s wealth and builds their first mansion on Millionaire Row

As the inheritor of Cornelius’ $100 million estate, William Henry assumed control of his father’s shipping and railroad interests. He was the only family member to double the Vanderbilt fortune with his vast transportation monopoly. By the time he died in 1885, he had amassed a staggering $200 million

William Henry built the ‘Triple Palace, the family’s first mansion on Fifth Avenue. The property featured three grand and sprawling connected houses with interiors so ornate, it took between 700 workmen to complete. The mansion was later inherited by his grandson, who auctioned off the ‘outdated’ priceless 19th-century furniture in 1942 to Warner Brothers Studios, and the home was demolished in 1945

Cornelius Vanderbilt’s son William ‘Billy’ Henry Vanderbilt would go on to double the Vanderbilt fortune — the only descendant to add to the wealth they’d been handed.

However, Anderson noted in his book that ‘he also initiated its fall, by inaugurating the Vanderbilt siege on the gilded gates of New York society that ushered in the truly astonishing excess for which the Vanderbilts would become famous.’ 

William was a frail youth and didn’t seem to be ambitious as his father, who initially dismissed him as being unfit to run the family business. 

Cornelius was also displeased that his oldest son wanted to get married at 19 and shipped him off to run one of the family’s farms in Staten Island in 1840. To the surprise of the Commodore, William made the farm profitable.  

William was interested in railroads and convinced his father to put him in charge of the bankrupt Staten Island Railroad. He once again surprised Cornelius when he restructured the organization and made it profitable in just a few years. 

In the 1860s, he became vice president of both the New York and Harlem Railroad and the Hudson River Railroad, which were owned by his father, and continued to expand the railroad business. 

By the 1870s, the beating heart of New York City society that was once Washington Square Park had decamped uptown. Fifth Avenue became the new vanguard for the same social elites that previously shunned the Commodore downtown.

William was the first in the family to build a sumptuous mansion on Millionaire’s Row. The famed ‘Triple Palace’ was made up of three sprawling houses connected by interiors so lavish, it took between 700 workmen to complete. 

He also established the Vanderbilt family as a philanthropic entity, giving sizable gifts to a number of recipients, including the Columbia College of Physicians and Surgeons and Vanderbilt University, which was named after his father, who provided its initial $1 million endowment.

When Cornelius died in 1877, William took full control of the company and greatly expanded its railroad business with a number of acquisitions. He was forced to retire in 1883 due to poor health. 

By the time he died in 1885, he had amassed a staggering fortune of $200 million, the rough equivalent of $6.2 billion today. 

William and his wife, Maria Louisa Kissam, had eight children, four sons and four daughters. Unlike his father, he divided his fortune amongst them and left his family’s stake in the company to his oldest sons, Cornelius Vanderbilt II and William Kissam Vanderbilt.  

Keeping up with the Astors: The third generation of Vanderbilts claw their way into high society with lavish spending

William Henry Vanderbilt’s oldest son, Cornelius Vanderbilt II (pictured), succeeded him as president and chairman of the New York Central Railroad after his death. Cornelius II was considered to have a strong work ethic, but he did little to increase the family’s wealth amid their lavish spending

Cornelius II’s wife, Alice Vanderbilt reveled in his wealth and wasted no time throwing it into the creation of enormous palaces on Fifth Avenue. She made a dazzling entrance at her sister-in-law Alva’s legendary costume ball dressed as a lightbulb (pictured). The dress used hidden batteries to light the torch during a time when almost all houses were still illuminated by gas lamps and candles

Cornelius II built a sumptuous palace on the corner of 58th Street and Fifth Avenue in 1883. The mansion had over 100 rooms and covered an entire city block.  His wife, Alice, lived in the house alone with the 37 servants needed to keep it running after his death in 1899. The home was demolished in 1926 to make way for the Bergdorf Goodman flagship store, but it still holds the record for the largest private residence ever built in New York City

William Henry Vanderbilt’s oldest son, Cornelius Vanderbilt II, succeeded him as president and chairman of the New York Central Railroad after his death. 

He was considered to have a strong work ethic, but he did little to increase the family’s wealth as he and his siblings built opulent homes in their attempt to shed their ‘new’ money status and be accepted into New York society. 

This started in the 1870s when William Henry leveraged his enormous wealth to land himself and his children on New York’s social map. But first, he had to go through the grand dame of polite society, who kept him at arm’s length.

Society in the Gilded Age was itself, still, a new invention presided over, primarily by Caroline Astor as its reigning queen and self-appointed gatekeeper.

Third-generation Vanderbilts were keen to join Caroline’s renowned’Four Hundred’ — New York’s most exclusive and illustrious social circle that was nicknamed after the maximum number of people she could fit in her ballroom. 

Invitations were limited to only the most elite. Eventually, the Four Hundred list was published in the form of a ‘blue book,’ which persists today as the Social Register.

Caroline recognized early on the importance of money in a country without a landed aristocracy. She wielded her social influence as a kingmaker and arbiter of taste with liveried servants, French art, French chefs, and imported china.

The Vanderbilts had the money, but they didn’t have the politesse, which they attempted to make up for with their real estate holdings. 

Cornelius II’s behemoth construction of 1 West 58th Street featured over 100 rooms and filled an entire city block. After his death in 1899, his wife, Alice, lived in the house alone with the 37 servants needed to keep it running. (It was demolished in 1926 to make way for the Bergdorf Goodman flagship store, but the home still holds the record for the largest private residence ever built in New York City.)

Cornelius II and Alice had also commissioned a lavish summer retreat, The Breakers, in 1895. It is known today as ‘one of the greatest representations of the Gilded Age,’ but at the time, the resplendent Newport mansion was ‘just a small summer cottage’ in comparison to the New York City palace on 58th Street.

‘The sheer size of The Breakers is hard to contemplate,’ Anderson wrote. The sprawling summer home is made up of 70 rooms and is three times as big as the White House. The morning room walls are paneled in platinum. The first corridor is built on a scale more suited to grand city hotel lobbies than to a weekend getaway house. The great hall displays sculptural personifications of Art, Science, and Industry with a painted trompe l’oeil ceiling. The music room features a dazzling gilded ceiling while the dining room is designed to seat thirty-four guests.

Anderson noted that ‘there is something uniquely American about this faux palace, with its décor and fixtures ripped out of the ancient homes of European royalty.’ He likened it to Versailles, saying, ‘The Breakers was the center of attention, the center of fame.’ But unlike its French counterpart, The Breakers was ‘the center of envy without being a center of power.’

William Kissam Vanderbilt (pictured) was a known party boy who indulged in the finer pleasures that wealth afforded him. He and his wife, Alva, would change the entire face and trajectory of New York society in one evening with an extravagant costume ball in 1883

Alva was brilliant and ‘utterly ruthless’ in her quest to challenge Caroline Astor’s iron rule over New York’s aristocracy. Dressed as a Venetian princess at the costume ball, she received her guests wearing a rope of pearls that belonged to Catherine the Great wrapped around her waist (pictured) 

Next to the family’s Triple Palace stood William Kissam and Alva’s ‘Petit Chateau’ at 660 Fifth Avenue. Determined to upstage her sister-in-law Alice, Alva designed her grandiose mansion after the gothic castles she saw during her childhood in France. In its place today stands a 41-story office building that was owned by Jared Kushner until 2018

Next door to the family’s Triple Palace stood William ‘Willie’ Kissam and his wife Alva’s ‘Petit Chateau’ at 660 Fifth Avenue. Determined to upstage her sister-in-law down the street, Alva designed her grandiose mansion after the gothic castles she saw during her childhood in France. The palatial residence made of limestone featured pointed turrets out of a fairy-tale castle.

‘The Vanderbilts must have homes which represent originality, art, and beauty,’ Alva said. ‘My house was the death of brown stone fronts,’ she boasted of the Petit Chateau, she said. (A developer would later buy the house in 1926 and bulldoze it within a year. In its place today stands a 41-story office building that was owned by Jared Kushner until 2018.)

The social war between the Vanderbilt and Astor houses played out in grandiose mansions and lavish parties hosted at Delmonico’s downtown (an important venue for the newly minted blue bloods of the Gilded Age).

One such fete in 1883, hosted by the Commodore’s grandson William Kissam and his wife, Alva, would ‘change the entire face and trajectory of New York society in one evening.’

Alva Vanderbilt, née Smith, was brilliant but ‘utterly ruthless’ in her quest to challenge Caroline Astor’s iron rule over New York society. She was the spoiled daughter of a rich Kentucky cotton family who moved into a Fifth Avenue mansion (with slaves in tow), just before the Civil War. 

Her family’s fortune evaporated in the postbellum stock market, leaving the homely 17-year-old with nothing but her unrelenting ambition. ‘Her task was clear: get married — and make sure he was rich.’

Alva and Willie wed married in April 1875, and two years later, she had a daughter named Consuelo, who would later go on to captivate the public with her marriage to the 9th Duke of Marlborough, a first cousin of Winston Churchill. 

Her husband was a known party boy who indulged in the finer pleasures that wealth afforded him. His primary purpose in life, Anderson said, ‘was to consume.’ 

With Willie’s wealth, Alva would lay siege to the cloistered world of New York society. Her opening gambit was a grandiose costume ball ‘that would seize the imagination of the public, dominate talk of the social world, and most importantly, bring the queen of New York into her camp.’ More than 1,300 invitations were hand delivered to the crème de la crème of American aristocracy.

Revelers dressed in showstopping costumes were helped out of their carriages by footmen dressed in white powdered wigs and eighteenth-century-style maroon livery. They ascended the steps to the grand front doors of ‘Petit Chateau’ via a thick, gold-edged maroon carpet under an awning that crossed the sidewalk.

The newly completed French gothic-inspired house at 660 Fifth Avenue was set ablaze with music, tiny electric lightsn and paper lanterns. ‘Every surface exploded with dangling orchids, palm fronds, and walls of roses’ that cost $11,000 (roughly $330,000 today). The party was entertained by two orchestras and four quadrille dances. 

By 11:30 p.m. a bouillabaisse of kings, queens, fairies, toreadors, and gypsies bejeweled and bedecked in silks and furs and ropes of diamonds had descended upon Fifth Avenue. Only two men appeared not in costume: William Henry Vanderbilt and his friend Ulysses S. Grant, who opted for simple tuxedos.

Others were costumed as Christopher Columbus, Louis XVI, Marie Antoinette, Queen Elizabeth I in a bright red wig, the goddess Diana, Daniel Boone, and Joan of Arc, complete with solid silver chainmail.

In 1895, Cornelius II and his wife, Alice, spent $7 million building The Breakers in Newport, Rhode Island. In its 77 years of existence, The Breakers saw the equivalent of nearly $218 million evaporate into thin air. Though small in comparison to their gargantuan New York City home, the sprawling summer retreat is three times as big as the White House and made up of 70 rooms with sumptuous interiors. The Breakers is the grandest and most opulent of Newport’s Gilded Age mansions, and it remains the most popular tourist attraction in the state

Using the inheritance from his father, William Henry’s youngest child, George Washington Vanderbilt II, built a colossal 175,000-square-foot retreat in Asheville, North Carolina. ‘The Biltmore’ remains America’s largest home to this day. With 250 rooms, 35 bedrooms, and 43 bathrooms, the French Renaissance chateau and its 8,000-acre property are still family owned and operated by George’s relatives

Unlike the Commodore who despised ostentation, his grandchildren and subsequent generations squandered their fortune in an effort to break into society by building opulent homes, ‘all which were built and torn down within a span of 60 years,’ Anderson explained. Alva’s ‘Marble House’ in Newport, Rhode Island (left), cost $11 million to build, while Frederick William Vanderbilt’s mansion in Hyde Park,  New York (right), served as a hunting lodge

Alva received her guests dressed as a Venetian princess, most notable was the string of pearls that belonged to Catherine the Great wrapped around her waist.

At 2 a.m., an eight-course dinner catered by the chefs from Delmonico’s was served on the third-floor gymnasium that had been festooned by a lush tropical forest. In all, the legendary Vanderbilt ball cost $250,000, equivalent to $7.4 million in today’s money.

Alva’s rival for reigning Vanderbilt hostess was her sister-in-law, Alice, who came costumed as an electric light bulb during a time when all homes were still lit by gas lamps and candles. The ensemble was renowned for its cutting-edge technology, using batteries hidden in the folds to light a bulb when Alice held it in her hand like the Statue of Liberty.

‘Wittingly or not,’ Anderson wrote in his book, ‘the Vanderbilts paid homage to the past while single-mindedly lighting the path of the future of society — her torch and tiara preceded the Statue of Liberty by three years.’ 

Still in the grips of a society power struggle, Alva endeavored to build a summer ‘cottage’ (as she called it), that would outshine Caroline Astor’s Newport mansion with 500,000 square feet of imported Italian marble. The home would come to be known as The Marble House. Completed in 1888, the mock Petit Trianon cost $11 million to build, (roughly $330 million in today’s money).

Perhaps the greatest temple to Vanderbilt ambition and excess is the Biltmore estate in Asheville, North Carolina. Using the inheritance from his father, the Commodore’s youngest grandchild, George Washington Vanderbilt II, built a colossal 175,000-square-foot retreat in the Blue Ridge Mountains.

The Biltmore remains America’s largest home to this day. With 250 rooms, 35 bedrooms, and 43 bathrooms, the French Renaissance chateau and its 8,000-acre property are still family owned and operated by George’s relatives.

However, the Vanderbilts were proof that money didn’t couldn’t buy happiness.  

In 1895, Willie and Alva scandalized high society when they divorced following her accusations of adultery, which was largely unheard of at the time. A year later, Alva remarried divorcée, Oliver Belmont, who was her ex-husband’s good friend. 

Willie took over the New York Central Railroad system after his brother Cornelius II’s death. In 1903, he married his second wife, Anne Harriman Sands Rutherford, and moved to France. 

Before he died in 1920, he told the New York Times, ‘My life was never destined to be quite happy. . . . Inherited wealth is a real handicap to happiness. It is as certain a death to ambition as cocaine is to morality.’ 

Reginald Claypoole Vanderbilt squanders away his inheritance and dies months after the birth of his daughter Gloria 

By the time Cornelius II and his wife, Alice, welcomed their Reginald Claypoole Vanderbilt (pictured) in 1880, the family’s fortune was spread thin among the many descendants. Reggie, a philandering drinker and gambler, married Cathleen Neilson in 1903, and they had one daughter, Cathleen Vanderbilt, before they divorced in 1920

At the time of his divorce, Reggie had taken an interest in his daughter Cathleen’s teenage friend Gloria Morgan (pictured) from the debutante circuit. The night before announcing his engagement to Gloria Morgan, he hosted a costume ball for young Cathleen at which his bride-to-be appeared as Marie Antoinette 

In 1823, Reggie married 18-year-old Gloria Morgan, who was 24 years his junior (pictured on their wedding day). Gloria Morgan gave birth to their daughter, Gloria Laura Morgan Vanderbilt, in 1924. Reggie died months later from cirrhosis of the liver

By the time Anderson’s grandfather Reginald Claypoole Vanderbilt was born on January 14, 1880, the family’s fortune was spread thin among the many descendants. Meanwhile, the railroad empire built by Cornelius was changing, and the Vanderbilts’ role would continue to dwindle until the 1970s when it would go bust.

Reggie, the profligate son of Cornelius II and Alice Vanderbilt, was a philandering drinker and gambler who frittered away his $7.3 million inheritance.

In 1903, he married Cathleen Neilson, and they had one daughter, Cathleen Vanderbilt, before they divorced in 1920.  

At the time, Reggie had taken an interest in his daughter Cathleen’s teenage friend Gloria Morgan from the debutante circuit. The night before announcing his engagement to Gloria Morgan, he hosted a costume ball for young Cathleen at which his bride-to-be appeared as Marie Antoinette. 

In 1823, he married 18-year-old Gloria Morgan, who was 24 years his junior. His daughter resented their nuptials, and she wasn’t the only one who disagreed with the May-December romance. 

Reggie’s mother, Alice — ‘a walking contradiction with her extravagant consumption and her Puritanical comportment’ — worried that Gloria Morgan had ‘been around.’ Her fears were assuaged when Gloria agreed to be examined by Alice’s physician who attested to her ‘intact virginity.’

On February 20, 1924, Gloria Morgan gave birth to Gloria Laura Morgan Vanderbilt, Anderson’s mother. ‘It is fantastic how Vanderbilt she looks,’ beamed Reggie. ‘See the corners of her eyes, how they turn up?’ He would be dead within months from cirrhosis of the liver.

‘Reggie hemorrhaged blood so explosively out of his mouth at the moment of his death that when his wife arrived two minutes too late to see him, Alice wouldn’t let her in the room. It was painted with Reggie’s blood,’ Anderson wrote. 

He was flat broke by the time he died and owed money all over town to lenders who had been all too willing to give him credit because of his famous name. 

In an age when a newspaper cost pennies, he owed $269 to his local newsstand, $4,000 to B. Altman booksellers, $712 to a laundress, $9,000 to Tiffany and Company, and thousands in back taxes.

The end of an era: How Gloria Vanderbilt overcame a traumatic childhood only to suffer more tragedy 

Reggie had frittered away his $7.3 million inheritance and left his young wife in debt when he died. Gloria Morgan (pictured with her husband and daughter) was forced to auction their New York City townhouse, his Sandy Point Farm, all his horses, all their cars, the furniture, linens, and even a stuffed elephant belonging to her baby

Gloria Morgan left her daughter in the care of her nanny and spirited away to Europe and stayed up all hours of the night attending dinner parties, nightclubs, and glamorous cocktail events, pilfering her daughter’s $2.5 million inheritance to fund her extravagant lifestyle 

Gloria’s aunt Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney disagreed with Gloria Morgan’s carefree gallivanting lifestyle and conspired to prove she was an unfit mother. She sued for custody of little Gloria citing the ‘neglect and immoral influence’ of her mother as the cause. Gloria was 10 years old at the time of the scandalous court case (pictured) 

Gloria Vanderbilt’s mother, Gloria Morgan, became a widow and a single parent at the age of 20. She was also legally (and emotionally) still a minor.

To cover her late husband’s debts, she was forced to auction their plush New York City townhouse, his Sandy Point Farm, all his horses, all their cars, the furniture, linens, and even a stuffed elephant belonging to her baby.

The only value left in his estate was the $5 million trust fund that Cornelius II, Reggie’s father, had established for the benefit of Reggie’s children. That sum would be split between little Gloria and her half-sister Cathleen.

Gloria Morgan filed a petition to be awarded an allowance from her daughter’s trust. These expenses amounted to $4,160 per month (about $73,000 today). This included $925 for servants, plus an additional $250 for the servants’ food. ‘Baby Gloria was now the piggy bank for her entire household, and she couldn’t even talk.’

Leaving her daughter in the care of her governess, Gloria Morgan spirited away to Europe and stayed up all hours of the night attending dinner parties, nightclubs, and glamorous cocktail events, pilfering her daughter’s $2.5 million inheritance to fund her extravagant lifestyle.

According to Anderson’s book, Gloria Morgan’s twin sister, Thelma, became the ‘fast friend’ and ‘favorite dancing partner’ of Edward, the Prince of Wales. His circle of friends known as ‘the Palace set’ were a cast of fast-living, decadent aristocrats. Thelma is also credited with (or blamed for) introducing the prince to Wallis Simpson after asking her to ‘take care of him’ while she was away.

‘My mom would see her as this very glamorous figure disappearing down the hallway,’ Anderson said of his grandmother. ‘It sounds very elegant now, on the outside, but she’s an eight-year-old child being moved from hotel rooms, and her mother’s going out to parties every night and having all sorts of people through the house. It really was not a stable upbringing.’

In 1934, 10-year-old Gloria became the center of a sensational custody lawsuit that was heard and reported around the world, it was dubbed, ‘The Trial of the Century.’

Salacious details from behind the curtain of America’s richest family captivated the poverty-stricken public during the Great Depression. Newspapers dubbed Gloria (pictured with her aunt) ‘the poor little rich girl’

Custody was eventually awarded to Gertrude and her nanny was fired. Gloria was left traumatized and even more isolated from the event. The New York Journal American composed the ditty: ‘Rockabye baby/Up on a writ/ Monday to Friday, Mother’s unfit/As the week ends she rises in virtue/Saturdays, Sundays, Mother won’t hurt you’

Gloria’s heartbreaking letters to her maternal grandmother, Laura Kilpatrick Morgan (pictured), were introduced as evidence during the court case 

As Gloria (pictured with her mother in 1939) grew up, she socialized in Manhattan and charmed film and play directors until she made connections in Hollywood. She had a string of epic romances with some of the 20th century’s most celebrated men: Howard Hughes, Frank Sinatra, Errol Flynn, and Marlon Brando

Gloria’s aunt Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney (founder of the Whitney Museum), disagreed with Gloria Morgan’s carefree gallivanting lifestyle and conspired with her niece’s maternal grandmother and beloved nanny, Emma Sullivan Kieslich, to prove she was an unfit mother.

She sued for custody of little Gloria citing the ‘neglect and immoral influence’ of her mother as the cause.

Salacious details from behind the curtain of America’s richest family captivated the poverty-stricken public during the Great Depression. Newspapers dubbed Gloria ‘the poor little rich girl.’

Gloria Morgan’s French maid testified that she saw ‘Mrs. Vanderbilt was in bed reading a paper, and there was Lady Milford Haven beside the bed with her arm around Mrs. Vanderbilt’s neck and kissing her just like a lover.’ (Lady Milford Haven was the daughter of a Russian grand duke and was married to a Mountbatten, cousin to the king of England.)

The nanny claimed that she found graphic pornography books: ‘Flogging, and nuns, and naked men with women’s tongues — left out where the child could easily see them.’

Gossip columnists decried that Gloria Morgan was ‘a cocktail-crazed dancing mother, a devotee of sex erotica, and the mistress of a German prince.’

Meanwhile, the defense argued that Gertrude Vanderbilt Whitney’s work as a celebrated sculptor featured nudes. It’s true that Aunt Gertrude wasn’t so virtuous either. She had two lives: one as a respectable pearl-laden grand-dame of society and the other as a bohemian downtown artist ‘who took whatever lovers she wanted, men or women,’ Anderson wrote.

Custody was eventually awarded to Gertrude and her nanny was fired. Gloria was left traumatized and even more isolated from the event. The New York Journal American composed the ditty: ‘Rockabye baby/Up on a writ/ Monday to Friday, Mother’s unfit/As the week ends she rises in virtue/Saturdays, Sundays, Mother won’t hurt you.’

As Gloria grew up, she socialized in Manhattan and charmed film and play directors until she made connections in Hollywood. She had a string of epic romances with some of the 20th century’s most celebrated men: Howard Hughes, Frank Sinatra, Errol Flynn, and Marlon Brando.

In 1941, a 17-year-old Gloria married Hollywood agent Pat DiCicco, a decision she instantly knew was a mistake, according to her son Anderson. The pair was together for four years before they divorced

Gloria wed her second husband, the conductor Leopold Stokowski, in 1945, when she was 21. He was 63 and she described it as love at first sight, despite the age gap. They had two children together, Stanley and Christopher, and were married for 10 years before divorcing. While raising her children, Gloria acted in films and plays (pictured in The Swan)

In 1956, she tied the know with her third husband, the famous director and producer Sidney Lumet. They were together until 1963. Her fourth marriage, to Anderson’s father, Wyatt Cooper (pictured), began four months after her divorce from Lumet

Together, Gloria and Wyatt had Anderson and his brother Carter, who was two years older. In the 1970s, she made a name for herself in the fashion industry with her line of denim, Gloria Vanderbilt Jeans. Wyatt died during heart surgery in 1978

In 1941, a 17-year-old Gloria married her first of four husbands, Hollywood agent Pat DiCicco, a decision she instantly knew was a mistake, according to Anderson. The pair was together for four years before they divorced. 

She wed her second husband, the conductor Leopold Stokowski, in 1945, when she was 21. He was 63 and she described it as love at first sight, despite the age gap.

They had two children together, Stanley and Christopher, and were married for 10 years before divorcing. 

In 1956, she tied the know with her third husband, the famous director and producer Sidney Lumet. They were together until 1963.

Her fourth marriage, to Anderson’s father, Wyatt Cooper, began four months after her divorce from Lumet. Together, they had Anderson and his brother Carter, who was two years older. 

While raising her children, Gloria acted on Broadway and in films, wrote poetry and novels, and produced wildly popular art.

In the 1970s, she made a name for herself in the fashion industry with her line of denim — Gloria Vanderbilt Jeans — which were emblazoned with a swan and her name.

‘My mom had a very fractured relationship with the family she was born into,’ Anderson told CNN. ‘She never really connected to any of them, so she never told me stories about her childhood growing up, she never really spoke about it.’ 

In 1978, Gloria’s husband, Wyatt, died during heart surgery. Ten years later, her son Carter leaped to his death in front of her from her apartment terrace.  

Gloria remained close with Anderson and Stanley throughout their lives, but she and Christopher became estranged in 1978 when he accused her therapist of meddling in his love life. 

In 1988, Gloria’s son Carter (pictured with his mother and brother in 1976) leaped to his death in front of her from her apartment terrace 

Like her ancestors, Gloria spent lavishly, ‘almost heedlessly, on anything that might bring pleasure: on houses and furnishings, gifts for friends, charities, and fine clothes.’ When she died in 2019, the mother of four left the majority of her estate to Anderson, who has devoted his life to honoring his mother’s legacy

‘I think of my mother as the last Vanderbilt,’ Anderson explained in his book. ‘She was the last living Vanderbilt who’d slept at The Breakers when it was still a private home, owned by her grandmother Alice…She was the last child to ride in cars driven by liveried chauffeurs, guarded by private detectives in overcoats and fedoras’

Like her ancestors, Gloria spent lavishly, ‘almost heedlessly, on anything that might bring pleasure: on houses and furnishings, gifts for friends, charities, and fine clothes.’

When she died in 2019, the mother of four left the majority of her estate to Anderson, who has devoted his life to honoring his mother’s legacy. 

The journalist reportedly inherited all of his mother’s belongings except for her co-op apartment at 30 Beekman Place in Manhattan, which went to Stanley. 

Gloria did not leave anything in her will for her estranged son Christopher. 

‘I think of my mother as the last Vanderbilt,’ Anderson explained in his book. ‘She was the last living Vanderbilt who’d slept at The Breakers when it was still a private home, owned by her grandmother Alice…She was the last child to ride in cars driven by liveried chauffeurs, guarded by private detectives in overcoats and fedoras.’

‘She was the last to be born before the Depression, when the Vanderbilt riches seemed as limitless and eternal as the stars in the sky,’ he wrote.