Newspaper feature — 'The Incredible Story of Ruth Lowndes and Mr. Simmons' by Margaret Rhett Taylor (29 January 1956)

Newspaper feature (clipping)

Handwritten annotation (pencil, top margin)

Jan 29 56

Headline (below the illustration)

The Incredible Story of Ruth Lowndes and Mr. Simmons

By Margaret Rhett Taylor

Illustration caption (beneath pen-and-ink of the canopied bed)

“Burying her face in the pillows, little Ruth wept her heart out in the long dark hours…”

Date line (typeset, lower right of clipping)

January 29, 1956

Body — opening (left column)

'TIS a strange tale, this legend of old Charleston. The facts are all true, but the secret of what madness possessed these two has never been revealed. It will no doubt now forever remain a mystery. And yet — as I tell it to you it is so simple, so human, and so very pathetic.

It happened at a time when a man’s word must be BETTER than his bond, when a promise, no matter how foolish, must be kept, when he would fight and die for a point of honor — or of pride. This was eighteenth century Charleston.

THE war was over and though many families were ruined, and many houses damaged by the shells from the forts, in a few years wonderful strides had been made towards restoration and Charleston society was becoming again as gay as ever it had been.

A wedding was always an occasion for celebration and the mansion of the honorable Rawlins Lowndes was arranged and decorated for this important event. There was smilax over doors and mirrors, and flowers in profusion banked upon the marble mantels. The many candles in candlesticks and chandeliers lighted the rooms and shone upon the lovely ladies in their gowns of softest satin and India silk and of fine muslin. They gleamed softly upon the hair that hung loosely on their necks after the fashion of the time, and upon the powdered wigs of the gentlemen, dressed in velvet and silk, with knee breeches and diamond buckles. They were handsome and romantic and no wonder the fans fluttered as some lady hid a whisper or disclosed a smile, in eager flirtation.

The family of the bride, however, waited anxiously with forced smiles — waited and worried, for they knew that only yesterday the bride and groom had had a bitter quarrel — that he had departed in anger. Not a word had come from him since — but then, it was customary for the bride to remain in retirement on her wedding day. Only — how could one know what might happen? Their uneasiness increased as the time neared and they stole looks at each other with silently questioning eyes. Would he come — ? Would there be a marriage at all — ? What shocking scene were they going to have to face?

The piano played softly and to their great relief Mr. Simmons entered. With sighs they turned to see the pretty petite Ruth come slowly down the broad stairs. She was pale, but serene and confident in her gown of satin and puffs and lace.

The bridegroom took her hand and stood beside her and in clear steady voices they spoke their sacred vows. The ceremony was soon over, the minister had pronounced them man and wife, and they turned quickly to greet the

Body — middle column (under the illustration, left side)

[con­tinued] muffled and the goodnights said, the bridegroom helped his little bride into the fine new coach that he had had made for her. It was painted yellow with ornamentations of gilt and the inside was padded with brown velvet. There was a coachman on the box and a footman rode behind.

Mr. Simmons, in his plum satin coat sat beside Ruth on the narrow seat as they rode in the quiet night with averted eyes. She must have felt a hopeful expectancy, but the ride was short and the silence unbroken when the man drew up at the handsome gates of 131 Tradd Street. This was the house that the groom had bought and furnished for his bride. It was lighted now for her coming and the slaves waited to welcome the new mistress.

With mounting excitement Ruth felt her husband hand her out and lead her ceremoniously to the front door. With what deep emotion must she have walked beside this man whom she had

Body — right column (under the illustration, right side)

loved and married. Now that they were at home together, surely this silly quarrel would be put behind them. Surely now he would say "Ruth, my darling, forgive — " and she — she was quite ready then to be the lovely yielding bride, to melt into his arms, “Oh my dear I do — I do.”

They reached the door and stood — and Francis Simmons, avoiding her eyes said through set lips,

“I hope that you will find everything to your liking, Madam. Goodnight.”

So — Her pride flared anew. So — Her eyes flashed as with head held high, her voice rang out clear and cool and indifferent,

“I shall indeed. Goodnight to you, Sir.”

Turning, she walked swiftly through the door and up the stairs without a backward glance.

SHE stood in the bridal chamber — in the middle of the spacious, luxurious room while the maids undressed her, hiding with a fixed smile the raging in-

Body — far-right column (right of illustration)

[continued] dignation within her. In spite of her forced composure her hands would tremble as she endured the removal of her wedding gown and she must bite her lips to keep from crying when they slipped over her head the night dress of fine muslin. With what joy had she worked upon the embroidery of this garment in which she was to spend her wedding night.

At last they were gone — and she lay in the big four-poster bed. A flickering candle made grotesque shadows around her and the stillness reminded her that she was alone in this strange house.

Alone — the slaves were in their quarters out back — and she had never been alone in a house at night before. Alone — married — and abandoned on her wedding night. What a diabolical revenge for a few bitter words. What unkindness, what cruelty was hidden by his ardent love making. It would have been so easy, so generous, for him to say “Forgive” or even “Forget.” A woman could not beg of a man. Her