33

New York City February 1882

“Why is father asking me where you’re staying in New York?” William demanded to know as Ella opened the door to her room at the Sherwood House, hoping he was coming to take her to dinner.

“Good evening, William, so nice of you to stop by.” Ella swept her hands in toward the room to allow him entrance. “Not exactly the Astor House, but then you get that privilege, not me.”

“This place is a disgrace,” William said as he looked around, afraid to sit on the divan for fear it might host fleas.

“This suite of rooms is all father can afford from what I understand,” she said, not wanting to tell him she was paying for the rooms herself. “Besides, the keeper is being kind to let you stay here with me. She doesn’t approve of male guests and rarely takes them in. She is only allowing you to stay with me because I convinced her you were my brother.”

“Well, I am after all aren’t I?” William looked around at the shabby surroundings. “Father doesn’t know you’re here and if he did he wouldn’t approve. Wherever did you find this place?” William lifted one of Ella’s shawls off the arm of a chair and placed it on the cushion before he sat down.

Ella frowned and walked toward him. “Get off that, it is one of my better shawls,” she said as she pulled at the corner of the shawl that was sticking out from under his trousers.

William lifted himself off the chair and handed her the shawl. She wrapped herself in it.

“I can’t stay anyway.” He skimmed his pointer finger along the table to see how much dust it would pick up and then rubbed it off with his thumb. “I’m meeting Malcolm Forbes in about a half hour. I just wanted to stop in and check on you before I telegraph father. He asked me to look out for you.”

“You’re meeting Forbes, the financier? What for?”

“He’s an avid yachtsman, like me. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.” William nicked her on the chin and went to the door.

“Please don’t tell Father I’m staying here.”

“Why not stay with Martha Parker?”

“Father disapproves of her. The least I could do was find an alternative accommodation. Besides, Martha has a new beau. I’m not sure who it is yet, but she’s been alluding to it in her letters lately. I didn’t want to intrude, if you understand my meaning.”

William rolled his eyes. “Only too well.”

“Aren’t you a bit quick to judge?”

Out of the corner of his eye William caught a glimpse of the dim yellow carpeting and the worn-out pattern of green tendrils and thistle. The white spray of thread along the edges was frayed and dusty looking. For some reason the thistle reminded him of the cabin he had built for Louise and the thick bear rug that Ike draped on the plank floors for Sarah’s baby to crawl on.

“How is Louise faring by the way?” Ella knew him so well.

William was quickly brought back to the dreariness of the suite and the pathetic attempt by his sister to behave like a socialite.

“I’ll stay in the other room tonight Ella, but tomorrow you need to call on Estelle and stay with Uncle Charles. Father would be livid if he knew you were here.” He changed the subject.

“That is impossible.” Ella bristled at the suggestion. “I won’t stay with Uncle Charles, he’s worse than father.”

“Then your visit to New York ends after the ball. I will not allow you to stay here any longer than you have to and I don’t want to either.”


When William left, Ella looked around her and tried to ward off a wave of depression by opening up the latest letter she had received from Poultney. She thought it might lift her spirits, until she read it:


Dearest Ella:


I hope you are well. I am bravely working my way through the last semesters of law school, knowing full well I have no intention of becoming a lawyer for anyone. But alas, it was what my father wanted of me and I feel obligated to abide by his wishes.


I received your last poem – ‘Friends’ – I assume it was aimed at me?


Ella I apologize for misleading you in any way. We are both adults and are free to do as we choose. You however are bound by your family’s dictates of propriety and social status that I am not sure I can ever fulfill. I will always be a parvenu in your mother’s eyes, and I unfortunately lack the industriousness your father demands of his offspring and their suitors. I am but a poor writer, making his mark by his pen. It is not an illustrious career choice, nor will it bring your family’s fortunes any higher than they already are. (Ella found that comment especially ironic given her family’s current financial predicament).


And my life would be so very boring to you my dear as I travel the world seeking out stories of government corruption and reform in far off places in squalid conditions – no place for a lady of your upbringing.


I do hope you forgive me and do not fret over this too much. We can, although I sense the sarcasm in your poem, remain friends. For a lifetime.


Yours affectionately,

Poultney Bigelow


Ella stared at the letter one more time before putting it down and picking up her journal. She flipped to the poem ‘Friends’ she had indeed written for him.


No, let us part, we ne'er can be

Mere friends, since liking has grown such

It needs but word, or look, or touch

To change it to love's ecstasy.

Mere friends? why dost thou when alone seem moved, and speak in accents low.

And let gaze, voice soft, tender grow till all my firm resolves are gone

When thou couldst ask, nor be denied

Mere friends? Why does the warm blood creep into my cheeks when thou art near;


For friend to thee I cannot be.

If through the years some strength I gain,

Then can my soul with struggle o'er,

Know friendship's pleasure as of yore

Without this passion and this pain.

But now, O! deem me not unkind. That I fain banish from mine eyes

Thine image I too dearly prize;

We part — since thou as friend art blind.


Ella shut her journal and stared at her bleak surroundings.

William and Ella descended from the carriage to find their cousin Howard waiting for them at the entrance to the downtown hotel that was hosting the charity ball for the Trinity Church committee on social welfare. The committee was made up of the wives of industrialists who were eager to show they cared about the plight of child laborers and unwed mothers.

As they entered the enormous ballroom the threesome heard the clinking of glasses echoing throughout the two-story room. William and Ella held back as Howard went headlong into the crowd once he recognized a client from his family’s refinery business.

They looked around for their friend Morgan Dix and spotted him chatting with a small group of women around a bowl of punch. Ella wandered over to the group, leaving William to fend off an eager investor who had skirted past several couples to introduce himself, and without further inquiry as to their well-being, launched into a slew of questions for William about the Adirondack Railroad Company.

Ella approached Morgan Dix as a rotund woman was pressing her point to a rapt audience of ladies holding crystal punch glasses that held some type of pink-tinted liquid. “What we need is a decent place for these mothers to bring their children for health services, education, and once in a while, a decent meal.”

“Ella, my dear, so glad you could come.” The Reverend looked up from the discerning group of women to acknowledge Ella standing at the edge waiting for an opportunity to say hello. He reached for her hand and brought her into the fold.

“Ladies, may I introduce you to a dear family friend, Heloise Durant.”

The women nodded politely.

“Please call me Ella.” Ella shook hands with the four women as Morgan introduced them by name.

“We were just discussing the need for a shelter for the influx of laborers and their families coming to the city and faced with very unsanitary conditions,” explained one of the women.

“I’m sure Ella would love to hear more, but I might steal her away for a minute so I can let my wife know she is here. We were worried about your arrival.” Morgan looked over at Ella. She blushed, wondering if her father had contacted him.

“Oh, yes, the roads this time of year are just awful aren’t they? And the railroads are no better — ice on the rails will stop a train in its tracks!” One of the ladies provided an excuse for Ella to keep quiet.

Ella said good bye to the drab-looking group of women, momentarily sensing she was over-coiffed. She realized her corset was tied too tight, her bosom heaved a bit too high, and her neckline plunged a little too low for this crowd. Perhaps she had misunderstood the purpose of the ball? She had been under the impression from the invitation that there would be dancing and gaiety, but the mood was rather somber.

Morgan gently glided Ella through the room until they landed next to his wife Emily. She was close in age to Ella and he knew they enjoyed each other’s company.

“Ella, so nice to see you dear.” Emily Dix held Ella in her arms and brushed both her cheeks with a kiss. “Tell me how are your mother and father? Well, I hope?”

“Oh yes, they send their love,” Ella responded. She looked over Emily’s gown: a simple white waist-dress, feminine and refined with small pink bows tying each sleeve delicately around her petite arms. “Emily that gown you have on is absolutely lovely. I wish I was wearing something like it,” Ella said.

“Why thank you Ella,” Emily said.

“Ella, I wonder if you recall the short verse my father wrote you on your birthday celebration in Paris years ago?” Morgan said.

Ella nodded.

“As I am writing his memoir and would like to include it. Maybe you would write it down and send it to me?”

“Of course, Morgan,” Ella said.

“Tell me,” Emily said, taking hold of Ella’s right arm. “I saw Howard, is your cousin Estelle coming as well?”

Ella looked around a bit bewildered. She hadn’t even had a chance to ask Howard if Estelle was coming. She just assumed she would, given that most of New York’s social elite were her friends.

“I forgot to ask. Quite frankly it has been a bit of a whirlwind since I arrived. Both Howard and William started right into business conversations.”

“I do miss our outings together. Perhaps we could call on her while you’re here and do some shopping together?”

“There are the stars of the ball,” William said as he walked up to them.

“William!” Emily extended her hand. “So nice of you to come and support my husband’s charity work.”

“My pleasure.” William bowed as he took Emily’s hand and kissed it solemnly. “Morgan, so good to see you again.”

“Good to see you as well William, how is your dear mother?”

“Fine, fine.”

“Oh, William, before I lose sight of you, I wanted to introduce you to Andrew Carnegie.” Morgan took William in hand and escorted him to meet the Scotsman.

Emily pulled Ella aside and said, “I do hope they get moving on with the night’s activities. After Morgan’s speech there should be music.”

Ella scanned the crowd wondering who among them was George Putnam. It was just like William to get to meet the men he needed to fulfill his destiny while she waited on the sidelines. She decided to take a chance and ask Emily if she knew which of the men milling about was Putnam.

“Yes. In fact, there he is.” She used her small pink Asian fan hanging from her wrist to point out Putnam. “Come, I’ll introduce you both.”

And they proceeded toward the man that Ella hoped would be her future ticket into a life as an independent woman and writer.

After her discussion with Putnam and the go ahead to send her collection of poems, Ella found herself increasingly bored. The tea-totalers orchestrating the event had no intention of allowing the guests to revel in the libations that were at the root of so many of the societal ills befalling the very poor of New York City. Besides, they were too busy making speeches. Reverend Dix made a somewhat monotone plea for support of the work of the Trinity Church charities. And the ladies who had been conferring over the punch bowl made their way to the podium to lament the sinful state of affairs of the poor immigrant families that were flocking to the city and swelling the tenements.

Ella stifled a yawn and looked for William. Last time she’d seen him, he was flirting with a young woman Howard had introduced him to — Miss Stewart, a socialite that hailed from a wealthy Chicago family. She finally spotted her brother alone in the corner watching over the crowd, looking bored as well. She walked over to stand by his side while the speeches were being made.

“Keeping yourself busy, Ella?” William said.

“You noticed? I hardly thought you were paying attention to anything but Miss Stewart.”

“Oh, I can take in a lot at once.” William smiled. He watched Ella’s eyes dart about the room. “You won’t see him here. This isn’t his type of gathering.”

“Whoever do you mean?” Ella flicked open her fan and waved it over her face to hide her wandering eyes.

“I mean Poultney. He won’t show up here.”

“Pfft,” Ella said. “I don’t care. Men have been fawning over me all night.”

William let out a short laugh and the people around them glared.

“Hmmm, I guess you’re right to be cynical. This affair isn’t quite as gay as the balls at Binstead we used to attend is it?” Ella smiled under her fan.

“There you are, I’ve been looking all over for the two of you,” Howard said and pulled out a small flask from the interior of his waistcoat. “Would you like to liven up that punch?” He gestured at William’s glass. William extended it.

Howard leaned in toward his cousins. “Let’s get out of here,” he said so that others would not overhear him. “They have my check and I don’t think I can stand another lecture about the working poor. Besides, I told Estelle I would meet up with her and her new beau at Sherry’s. Miss Stewart and her cousin may be interested as well.” He looked over at the two young women stoically listening to the endless speeches. Without asking if his cousins agreed, Howard walked over to the ladies to invite them to come to Sherry’s.


Ella, Howard and William took Howard’s carriage while Miss Stewart’s driver escorted the ladies to Sherry’s to meet them. Ella looked out the carriage window at the streetscapes of New York City as Howard rambled on about the refinery business. The freshly fallen snow made everything sparkle. As the driver took them through the theater district on Broadway, Ella longed to be amongst the bustle of crowds exiting the shows. She watched as people poured out of the theaters and climbed over the mounds of snow that had been plowed from the streets and piled up along the sidewalks to make room for the carriages and trolleys. And then she saw them: Poultney and Martha – coming out of the Star Theater just as the driver turned their carriage onto 13th Street.

“Isn’t that your friend Poultney Bigelow?” Howard asked Ella when he noticed her gazing at the pair. The carriage had stopped at the intersection and she hoped they did not see her gaping at them from the window. She quickly leaned back in her seat so she wouldn’t be detected. How absurd, she thought. It was not as if she didn’t know them to be friends. She peered out the window once again.

Martha was leaning on Poultney’s arm. Ella watched as she turned her head toward his ear and said something that caused him to laugh. Ella sensed Poultney’s pleasure to be arm and arm with Martha, who looked striking in a seal-skin coat that showed off her slim figure. Suddenly, Ella’s stomach started to knot.

“I hear those two are quite the pair these days,” Howard said.

“How do you mean?” Ella said.

“I mean, they’re seen all over town socializing together and I hear Poultney’s father is not too happy about him courting a divorcee, especially one that is almost ten years his senior. But then I say, good for him, why not? Enjoy it while you’re young.”

William said nothing.

“Didn’t he have an eye for you at one time, Ella? As I recall he was quite smitten that summer we came up to visit your family at Pine Knot a few years ago.” Howard looked directly at her.

Ella wished she could climb into her skin. She slunk down further in the carriage seat and by the time they got to Sherry’s she was in no mood to socialize. “William, please take me back,” she said weakly.

“What’s wrong, Ella? Not feeling well?” Howard asked.

“It has been a long journey,” Ella replied.

William got out with Howard and gave the driver instructions to take Ella back to the Sherwood House. “I’m staying with Howard. I’ll be back later this evening,” he said through the carriage window.

“You’re leaving me?”

“I’ll return later tonight. You should make plans to return home.” He left her stewing in her seat.


Ella didn’t sleep well. By four am William hadn’t arrived back from Sherry’s, and she tossed and turned in her bed. It was six am when he finally knocked on the door to the suite. His coat and top hat were dusted with snow and he shook them both at the entrance, allowing the snow to cascade to the floor forming a small puddle of water as it melted. He placed them on the coatrack before stepping onto the carpeting.

Ella pounced on him the moment he entered.

“Where have you been? You reek of alcohol and cigars.”

William swayed over to the divan and held his head in his hands. “I stayed at Howard’s last night. Don’t scold me, Ella, my head hurts.”

“Why on earth didn’t you return? I was worried sick about you.”

“We stayed up late playing cards at the club. And I didn’t want to wake you when I came in so I stayed at Howard’s.”

“Howard’s indeed. You and Howard were out carousing with those young women, I’m sure of it.” Ella’s voice rose an octave. “I was just the fifth wheel in your plans.” Her nerves were on edge from waiting anxiously for William to return. William had never abandoned her before, not even for a young lady. Their loyalties always resided with each other, and she was in desperate need of comfort after seeing that traitor Martha on the arm of Poultney.

“Stop behaving like a harpy.” William looked up from his seat. “Do you want to embarrass us both by waking up the rest of the tenants with your ranting? And don’t put yourself on high moral ground when you practically threw your virginity at Poultney.”

Ella turned on him. “How dare you of all people say that! You hypocrite! You, who led that poor girl Louise on to think you could marry her when you have known all the while it would be absolutely impossible.”

“So you say, Ella, but that doesn’t make it true.”

“Pfft.” She flicked her hand in the air. “Of course I state the truth William. You know very well that Papa would never allow such a union. And to think, here you are in New York City flirting with that Miss Stewart.” She walked over to the chair, picked up her shawl and draped it over her shoulders. “T'es devenu quoi alors?” she said under her breath.

Stung by her last remark, William stood up to leave. “Don’t you dare question my integrity. I’ve had enough of your childish antics Ella. No wonder Poultney won’t have anything to do with you. All my life I have had to safeguard you from people who wouldn’t put up with your tempestuous behavior.”

He retrieved his coat and hat and glared at her from the door. “Well, no more. I’ll have nothing more to do with you while you’re here in New York City.” And he walked out the door.

The door clicked shut behind him and Ella started to cry.

William hailed a carriage to take him back to his hotel. He did not appreciate Ella’s accusations. Miss Stewart was an attractive young lady, charming, and a perfect match for him actually. Her family had money and was well-connected to the railroad industry — her father had business in steel. His father would be thrilled with his choice if William ever planned to marry.

Besides, last night was a pleasant diversion from the stress of everything he had been subjected to lately: the Adirondack Company’s bankruptcy, his father’s failing health, and lack of communication from Louise.

Failing to secure a carriage, he walked the lonely path back to his hotel room to take a nap before heading into his office.