CHAPTER XV.

GOULD LAID TO REST.

The first intention, after the death of Jay Gould, was that the funeral services over his remains should be as public as the limited accommodations of the house would permit. Ex-Judge John T. Dillon, who had been one of the legal advisers of Mr. Gould, and Dr. Munn, Mr. Gould’s personal and private physician, met nearly all of the members of the family and agreed upon funeral arrangements with that understanding. But it was soon discovered that the probable result of a public funeral would be a blockade of Fifth avenue, and the intention was consequently abandoned.

The funeral services were held in the mansion where he had lived and died, at four o’clock Monday afternoon, December 5, 1892.

They were heard by his children, whom he had loved, and by many others whom he had known well in life, and some tears fell as they were uttered--not so many, perhaps, as have fallen at the funerals of other men who have attained prominence--and on his coffin were lying flowers, placed there by the hands of affection and of friendship, tokens of sorrow, clearly sincere and deep, that those who gave them would see him no more.

Outside of the house Fifth avenue and Forty-seventh street were crowded with inquisitive men and women, who were grievously disappointed because they were not allowed to enter to look at the face of the dead and to stare at the trappings of wealth. But the policemen who guarded the entrance were inexorable, and there was nothing to do but to stand on the pavement and gaze at those who entered and at the walls and windows.

In the early morning there were many callers at the house. Most of them were from out of town, and had come to attend the funeral services. They were met at the door by George Gould. Those who desired were permitted to go upstairs and look at the face of the dead. The body was in the rear bedroom on the second floor. It had not been disturbed since it was first lifted from the bed where Mr. Gould died on Friday morning. It was in a mahogany box surrounded by flowers and covered with a black cloth. A servant stood at the head and lifted the cloth for each visitor. None of the callers stayed more than a few minutes. They went across the street to the Windsor Hotel to await the hour for the holding of the services.

About 10 o’clock Undertaker Main called with two assistants. A moment later a wagon drove up to the Forty-seventh street basement entrance, and the coffin was carried into the house and up to the room where the body was. The wagon stood there an hour, and then the men who had gone in with Undertaker Main carried out the mahogany case and pushed it into the vehicle and drove away. A little later Undertaker Main came out. He said the body had been carried down stairs and was in the parlor, where it would lie while the services were held. While he was talking two wagon loads of camp chairs arrived. One contained twelve and the other fifteen dozen. They were carried into the house. Even at this hour in the morning the people in the street showed a disposition to stop, and had it been permitted there would have been a crowd in front of the house that would have blocked the street from curb to curb.

When it was announced that the funeral would be public Capt. Reilly arranged to have one hundred policemen on the spot from early morning, but the later decision to admit only the intimate friends of the family made the captain change his plan. Until noon only four uniformed men were on duty. One of these was in Forty-seventh street. Two were on the east and one on the west side of Fifth avenue. They pushed along any one who stopped more than a moment. Some were indignant, and talked back at the officers. Their talk generally resulted in a gentle push and an order to “Come now, hurry up. You can’t stand here.” About noon, two policemen, Sergeant Kelly and Roundsman Bingham came, and a few minutes later a dozen men from the Central office in citizen’s dress. Four of them were detailed to do service inside the house, and the others were to mix in the small crowd that was to be permitted to gather. They had orders to get together at the very first word that indicated a disturbance and squelch the offender on the spot. As a reserve force in case anything should happen, Capt. Reilly had twenty-five men in their rooms at the station-house ready to march on the double quick.

The first of the party who arrived at the house to attend the funeral were three women in deep mourning, an elderly man and two young men. They came about noon. They were Mr. Gould’s sisters, Mrs. Northrup and Mrs. Palen, and Mrs. Northrup’s daughter and two sons, and Mr. Abraham Gould, Mr. Jay Gould’s brother. They came from Philadelphia on an early train, and went direct to the house. The police vigilance to prevent the gathering of any crowd was kept up until 1 o’clock, when Capt. Reilly arrived. He said that people might gather half a dozen deep on the west side curb and above and below the house on the east side, but wide passages must be kept open. Sergeant Kelly and Roundsman Bingham were put on duty on the steps of the Gould house. Dr. Munn talked with them a few moments in the vestibule. He told them they were to question everybody and were not to let anybody pass who did not convince them of his right to enter the house. They were also to keep the steps clear. Five minutes after Capt. Reilly issued his order to let the little crowd gather, every inch of space he had allotted to them was taken. At first it was a crowd composed exclusively of poor people. They were poorly dressed and many of them looked poorly fed. Curiosity only had induced them to come. They had not hoped to get into the house. While this crowd stood in the street there was a hurry and bustle in the corridor of the Windsor Hotel. The men the poorer people came to see were forming parties. The directors of the great railroad companies, the Union Pacific, the Missouri Pacific, and the others, were getting together. Frank Hain, Julien T. Davies, and Charles A. Gardener, representing the Manhattan Elevated railroad, were among them. William C. Whitney had charge of one party.

Once, early in the afternoon, there was what appeared to be a concerted rush for the steps. A number of persons who were evidently under the impression that the public was to be admitted at 3 o’clock made a start at that hour, and two or three hundred others followed. Up they rushed, and, although the policemen shouted, “Get back! You can’t go in,” a few did make their way into the house. They were quickly ejected, however, and thereafter only individual efforts were made to get in. Some of these were persisted in stubbornly, but without success.

Oddly enough, women pleaded the hardest to be allowed to pass through the big oak door, women of more than middle age, most of them, who could give no better reason for wanting to see the face of the dead railway king than that they “just wanted to see it.” Some declared that they had come from great distances for that purpose alone. They went away and returned to beg again. Yet all of them admitted finally that they had never known Mr. Gould or any of the family. His children glanced furtively out of the windows at the motley crowd and gave thanks that the early intention to admit the public had been abandoned.

The throngs began to gather as early as noon, and by 1 o’clock there were 500 or 600 persons near the house. For some time the policemen kept them on the west side of the street, where there was no sunshine and where it was chilly. Yet they held their positions.

In the house during the early afternoon Undertaker Main’s assistants were busy arranging camp chairs in the two parlors, in the dining-room in the rear of the house, and in the spacious hallway which runs from the entrance to the dining-room.

The body of Mr. Gould was taken from the temporary receptacle in which it had been lying since Friday, and placed in the oak casket covered with black broadcloth. At 3 o’clock it was carried down stairs and placed with head toward the east on a standard in front of a broad mirror on the south wall that reached from floor to ceiling.

In the hallway, just back of the reception room, to the left of the entrance and alongside the staircase, was placed a small organ, in front of which the choir of Dr. Paxton’s church was to stand.

Dr. John P. Munn, Mr. Gould’s physician, took up his position in the vestibule soon after 3 o’clock. No one could enter unless he knew them or unless they presented credentials which were not to be questioned. Owing to the sagacity of Roundsman Bingham of the East Fifty-first street police station and a number of central office detectives and police men in citizen’s dress, not a great many reached the doctor whom he had to turn away.

One gray-haired woman, by exhibiting a card, got by the policeman and reached Dr. Munn. To him she said, smiling agreeably, that she had no wish to be intrusive, and then the door being open she sought to push by him. Detective McCloskey, of the central office, who was attending the door, closed it, and a policeman appeared just then and escorted the woman down to the street.

Although the services were not to begin until 4 o’clock the friends began to come before 3. After passing the policemen at the entrance and Dr. Munn, four detectives from police headquarters were encountered. Detective Sergeant Heidelberg stood in the vestibule, Detective Sergeant McCloskey in the inner hall and Detectives Frink and Titus near the dining-room. As the guests were admitted they were shown through the hall to the drawing-room. There they formed in line and passed by the coffin slowly, so that each could get a view of the body, and then passed into the second drawing-room or through the latter to the hall or dining-room. Three ushers found seats for them. None of the family was visible. George Gould had been down earlier in the day and had received some callers, but he retired before the first of the funeral guests arrived. He and the other members of the immediate family, Abraham Gould, Mrs. Northrup and Mrs. Palen, and their children, were gathered in the hall of the second story, where they could hear the music and prayers without being seen by those below. Some remoter relatives and their friends sat in the rear of the second drawing-room. The dining-room was filled first, and here the directors of the Union Pacific, the Manhattan Elevated and the Missouri Pacific railroads and the Western Union Telegraph Company were seated.

The shades were drawn in all the rooms and the electric lights were turned on. At 3:30 o’clock the second drawing-room, the dining-room and the hall were filled. Everybody sat silent during the half hour that elapsed before the services began. The only man who spoke at all, and he confined himself to whispers, was Russell Sage. Except the coffin, the object that attracted the most attention was the oil portrait of Jay Gould, which hung against the rear wall of the dining-room. All in that room and many in the hall could see it, and their eyes were turned toward it a large part of the time. It had been painted before Mr. Gould’s illness, and looked utterly unlike the face in the coffin. Instead of the expression of peace and indifference which marked the latter, there shown out from the countenance of the portrait a look of triumph. The face of the dead man was commonplace beside that in the gilt frame.

The hour set for the beginning of the services, four o’clock, was indicated to those seated in the parlors and halls and to the members of the family who were on the second floor, first by four cheerful, jingling strokes of a Swiss clock in the dining-room, and then by four sonorous and vibrating sounds from the large clock in the rear parlor.

Pastor John R. Paxton walked to the reception room and escorted the Rev. Roderick Terry, pastor of the South Reformed church, which Mrs. Jay Gould attended, and Chancellor MacCracken of the University of the City of New York, to seats near the doorway of the parlor, about half way down the hall.

Dr. Paxton took his place in this doorway, facing those in the hall. At his right, and at the head of those who sat in the hall, were Chauncey M. Depew, who observed the ceiling contemplatively during the ceremony, and Collis P. Huntington, who wore a skull cap and looked steadily and intently at the hall carpet.

The opening strains of the anthem, “There is a Land Immortal,” were played by Organist and Musical Director P. A. Schnecker at 4:05 p. m., and the singing was by Mrs. Charles Herbert Clarke, soprano, who took the place of Mme. Clementine De Vere-Sapio, the regular choir soprano, who was indisposed; Mrs. Carl Alves, contralto; Charles Herbert Clarke, tenor, and Ericcson F. Bushnell, bass. Extemporaneous prayer, in which only the Presbyterian service differs from that of the Episcopal church, was offered by Dr. Paxton in these words:

“Oh, eloquent, just and mighty Death, whom none couldst outwit thou takest in thy toils; whom none could convince thou persuadeth; whom none could overthrow thou subdueth--mighty Death!

“Dire discouragement of human end, we bless God for our Christian faith in which Jesus Christ hath abolished death. We bless Thee that He plucked the stain from sin, that He robbed the grave of its victory, and that He filled the heavens with the ministrations of our heavenly hope in this splendor, where we hope to renew life beyond the tomb.

“We bless Thee, Heavenly Father, for Thy Son our Lord Jesus Christ, for our knowledge that the grave is not a dungeon but a door opening into other worlds and a new and higher life. We bless Thee that the grave is not a terminus, the final resting place, the be-all and end-all of man, but that it is only the stopping place, an inn where we humble travelers sleep the long sweet sleep on our way to the New Jerusalem.

“May the Divine Spirit be present with us in these sad solemn services, and may the light of the resurrection morn shine into this darkened and bereaved house, and may comfort, that with which God comforteth His own, touch with heavenly and hopeful grace the hearts of our friends here, wounded and bleeding still for the loss of him they all loved so well. Amen.”

Dr. Paxton read that part of the service beginning, “I am the resurrection and the life,” and the quartet sang the beautiful hymn of Cardinal Newman, “Lead, Kindly Light, Amid the Encircling Gloom.” Then the Rev. Mr. Terry read the second part of the burial service, at the conclusion of which Chancellor MacCracken offered prayer as follows:

“O, Father, Thou only art perfectly wise, kind, just, true and good. Therefore it is that our hearts turn to Thee in this trying hour. Strengthen us now. Quicken our hearts in faith, that we may strive to be like Thee. Make us, as Thou hast commanded us to be, steadfast and immovable, and always abounding in the work of the Lord.

“O Father, pity those that mourn here. Have special compassion on the children of this home, whom Thou hast sorely grieved. Because Thou hast taken from the children of this family both father and mother, do Thou comfort them, Thou Divine Comforter. Grant unto them faith, hope and love, Thy Divine special gifts. Grant unto these bereaved ones the peace which this world, with all its treasures, does not give.”

“Nearer, My God, to Thee” was then sung, after which Dr. Paxton announced that the services would be concluded at the grave in Woodlawn cemetery the following day by Chancellor MacCracken.

He invited those present to take a look at their departed friend, whose soul had gone to its Maker. The line formed in the rear of the parlor and marched slowly by the casket, the upper part of the cover of which had been removed.

Among those who attended the services were the following:

Representing the Manhattan Elevated Company--Second Vice-President and General Manager F. K. Hain, Secretary and Treasurer D. W. McWilliams, Julien T. Davies and Charles A. Gardiner, the company’s counsel.

Representing the Western Union Telegraph Company--President Norvin Green, Vice-President and General Manager Thomas T. Eckert, Vice-Presidents John Van Home and Robert C. Clowry, Treasurer R. H. Rochester, and William B. Somerville, Superintendent of the Press Service.

Representing the Missouri Pacific Railroad Company--First Vice-President and General Manager S. H. H. Clark, Assistant General Manager George C. Smith, Secretary and Treasurer A. H. Calef, Local Treasurer D. S. H. Smith, General Auditor C. G. Warner, General Attorney for Western States B. P. Waggener, General Solicitor A. G. Cochran, and John C. Wands.

Representing the Union Pacific--Vice-President E. F. Atkins, Director Frederick L. Ames, Secretary Alexander Miller, Treasurer James G. Harris, and Controller Oliver W. Mink of Boston, and Director Joseph H. Millard of Omaha.

J. B. Houston, Vice-President of the Pacific Mail Steamship Company, and Mrs. Houston; Austin Corbin, President of the Long Island Railroad Company and a Western Union Director; S. W. Fordyce, President of the St. Louis Southwestern Railway Company; John G. Moore, a Director of the Missouri Pacific road; Henry B. Hyde, President of the Equitable Life Assurance Society and a Union Pacific Director; George G. Williams, President of the Chemical National Bank; J. Edward Simmons, President of the Fourth National Bank; Edward H. Perkins, Jr., President of the Importers’ and Traders’ National Bank; A. S. Frissell, President of the Fifth Avenue National Bank; ex-Judge John F. Dillon; W. B. Doddridge, a Director of the St. Louis Southwestern Railway; Washington E. Connor, Gould’s former partner; Samuel Sloan, President of the Delaware, Lackawanna and Western Railroad Company and a Director of the Missouri Pacific and Western Union companies.

Chauncey M. Depew, President, and H. Walter Webb, Third Vice-President, of the New York Central and Hudson River Railroad; H. G. Marquand, Collis P. Huntington, a Director of the Western Union Telegraph Company; John Bigelow, Addison Cammack, Henry Villard, Henry Clews, Simon Wormser, a Director of the Manhattan Elevated Company; Herbert H. Dickson, Mr. Gould’s personal lawyer; J. Pierpont Morgan, a Western Union Director; William H. Blackford, representative of Charles F. Mayer, President of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad; Whitelaw Reid, John H. Inman, William D. Bishop, of New Haven, a Western Union Director; Jesse Seligman, Mr. and Mrs. James Seligman, Mrs. Helman, Dr. Virgil P. Gibney and mother, Dr. Jarrett Baldwin, Mrs. B. S. Clark, ex-Senator and Mrs. John J. Kiernan, Judge Rufus B. Cowing, of the Court of General Sessions; Dr. Matthew D. Field, Sidney Dillon Ripley, William H. Kissam, J. Seaver Page, ex-Governor Alonzo B. Cornell, a Western Union Director; J. H. Villard, Alexander Miller, Frank Kernan, J. M. Morgan, James Gurnie, John D. Crimmins, J. C. Pierce, Gen. G. M. Dodge, A. S. Hopkins, Gen. Louis Fitzgerald,. Ogden Mills, C. C. Baldwin, F. K. Sturgis, Cornelius N. Bliss, Benjamin Brewster, William Rockefeller, E. P. Vining, Maughan Carter, a relative of Mrs. Gould, and Reid Northrup and Daniel Northrup, nephews of Mr. Gould.

Every one of those who saw the face remarked afterward upon its extreme naturalness. The beard had been cut rather shorter than Mr. Gould wore it in life, and that and the displacement of the swarthiness of his complexion by the death pallor were the only changes in his appearance. The many rare flowers were placed surrounding the casket. The most beautiful was a floral cross which Miss Helen Gould had ordered. It was composed of pink orchids tied with a silk ribbon, and was placed on top of the coffin. Next to it was a bunch of bride roses from Howard Gould. A five-foot broken column of white roses, crowned by violets, with the word “Father” in violets at the base, stood at the head of the coffin on a table. It was from George Gould. Miss Annie Gould sent a bunch of white orchids, Edwin Gould a wreath of lilies of the valley, bride roses and orchids; Frank Gould a bunch of lilies of the valley and orchids, and George Gould’s children an enormous pillow of orchids, roses, lilies of the valley and violets, with the word “Grandpa” in the center. This rested on the floor beneath the coffin.

A handsome wreath of lilies of the valley, orchids and bride roses was received from Mrs. Hall of 559 Fifth avenue. Mrs. Herbert sent a bunch of lilies of the valley and roses. Gen. Thomas Eckert sent a wreath of orchids and roses. Mrs. Dillon Brown sent a bunch of lilies of the valley and orchids. J. B. Houston sent a full-rigged ship made of lilies of the valley, roses and violets, with two flags flying and this inscription in violets: “The Voyage Ended--Safe in Port.” The ship was placed on a gilt cabinet in the northeast corner, and the other pieces were disposed about the room. A large number of persons had been expected, and arrangements had been made accordingly. Many camp chairs had been piled up in the hall, the second drawing-room and the dining-room.

After all the visitors had gone, the members of the family, including Mr. Gould’s brother, Abraham, and his sisters, Mrs. Palen and Mrs. Northrup, took a last look at the features, and the casket was closed.

Although it grew bitterly cold in the late afternoon, the crowd outside did not diminish while the services were in progress. Occasionally the onlookers crowded up to the gates so that the four uniformed policemen had to get together and push them back. A picturesque feature, but by no means a pleasant one, was the presence of several unwashed, long-haired individuals, supposedly Anarchists, raggedly clothed and with red cotton neckerchiefs, who stood muttering and cursing to themselves and glaring fixedly upon the house.

A wily speculator had obtained possession of some visiting cards of Edwin Gould, and had sold them at a premium. Many of his customers presented these to the policemen, and they seemed quite surprised and chagrined when they were told they would not be recognized.

One elderly woman, in a black bombazine dress, with an old-fashioned bonnet, became extremely indignant because she was not allowed to enter the mansion. She said she lived “up in the state,” and that she had traveled sixty miles especially to attend the funeral of Jay Gould. “It is a shame,” she cried, waving a rusty parasol and speaking to the crowd in the street. “They’re rich enough. Why didn’t they hire a church?”

Another peculiarity about the sidewalk spectators was that nearly all the men and boys were either German or Russian, while the greater part of the women were also foreigners. The crowd climbed up the stoops of the adjoining and neighboring residences until they were driven away by servants with the aid of the police. Every time the great glass doors opened at the Gould residence there was a craning of necks and a rush for the stoop. There was absolutely nothing to be seen except the undertaker’s assistants.

One woman told a little circle around her that she had seen the casket, and seemed very proud of her achievement and the distinction which it conferred upon her in the eyes of her auditors.

During all this time Fifth avenue was crowded with handsome equipages of all kinds going to and from the park. Among those who drove by were John Jacob Astor and his wife in a stylish drag. Neither the Anarchists nor the other spectators recognized them, or there might have been, judging from the character of the crowd, some unpleasant demonstration. The police, however, were very alert, and kept a watchful eye upon every movement of the crowd.

The majority of the men who attended the funeral walked to and from the house. When the services were over and the doors were opened, the first to step out were H. Walter Webb and Chauncey M. Depew. Mr. Depew was, of course, recognized, but Whitelaw Reid, who followed him, was not. As the guests came out of the house the police still had some difficulty in keeping the crowd back. A number of women fell into line, expecting that they would be admitted to the house as soon as the invited guests had departed. Finding that this was not the case, they lingered for a few minutes and then slowly went their way. In fifteen minutes the crowd disappeared entirely, and the avenue resumed its normal appearance.

The following morning the remains of Jay Gould were placed beside those of his wife in the mausoleum in Woodlawn cemetery. They were placed in a catacomb at just half past twelve. Barring the irreverent chatter of the idle onlookers, nearly all of whom were women, no words were uttered except by Chancellor MacCracken. A crowd gathered in front of the Gould residence early this morning. Two policemen kept them back, and they stood around and looked angry. At 9:30 the flowers were taken to the cemetery. Soon after 10 o’clock the hearse and eight carriages appeared. It was an extremely plain hearse and the carriages, except George Gould’s smart brougham, were of the ordinary four-wheeled funeral variety. The immediate members of the family entered them and Undertaker Main, alone in a carriage, led the way up Fifth avenue to the cemetery. After the brief services were over the mourners departed.

The mausoleum in Woodlawn cemetery in which the dead multi-millionaire is resting is more magnificent and costly than the homes of many people whose money paid for it. The station on the New York and Harlem river railroad is near the northeast corner of the cemetery. Central avenue goes by the office of the superintendent and winds through the snowy slopes for about half a mile. About fifty feet from this avenue rises a mound crowned by a tiny Greek temple. That is Jay Gould’s tomb.

The plot of ground is circular and contains 30,000 square feet. The price of ground in such a select location is $2 per square foot, so the space alone cost $60,000.

Before the work began Mr. Gould made three stipulations about the construction of the mausoleum. First, that it should be built as strongly and as massively as possible; second, that it should not be pretentiously large; third, that as great simplicity as possible in the construction should be observed. Upon this last point Mr. Gould laid the greatest stress.

The mausoleum is built throughout of westerly granite. It is thirty-three feet long, twenty-two feet wide and twenty feet high to the apex of the roof. It is often said to be a copy of the Parthenon, but that is not true. The Parthenon was a Doric structure; this is Ionic. The technical name of the building would be a Greek hexastyle, peripteral temple. It has six columns in front and eleven columns on each side in single rows. In its proportions and many of its details it is more like the old temple of Theseus, at Athens, than any ancient building extant.

Three rows of steps run up to the temple on all sides and form its base. Between the columns and the walls of the temple is a considerable space. Columns and walls are bare, without the faintest attempt at ornamentation.

In the center of the row of columns facing the south it looks as if a column had been removed to make a broad passageway. Facing this opening is the double door of the tomb. Each section of this door is eight feet high and two feet wide, and weighs a ton. The doors are of heavy bronze, and the lower part is paneled and ornamented on the outside with two dragons’ heads, a big iron ring swinging in the mouth of each dragon. The upper part of the doors is a fretwork of cherubs and vines, through the opening of which the interior of the crypt can be seen.

Peering through the interstices one may see the narrow hall lined with polished Tennessee marbles. The pavement is of tesselated marble in three shades, a creamy yellow, a pale pink and a pale violet. The body of the floor is in the pale violet, with two brands of the pink and yellow crossing it.

The interior is 20 feet long, 7 feet wide and 13 feet high. Its roof is a solid slab of granite, which weighs six tons. The border of the ceiling is paneled with egg and dart moulding. The floor is one plain marble slab. Along the sides of the interior are the catacombs. Of these there are twenty, ten on each side, in double rows. The rows are separated from each other by granite slabs. Each catacomb is 7½ feet long and 2½ feet wide. Between the lower end of the catacombs and the outside of the wall of the tomb is a thickness of 18 inches. The outer part of this thickness is, of course, granite, but facing the interior the walls are of light pink and cream-colored Tennessee marble, highly polished. The light enters the crypt through a stained glass window in the back. This window, which is 6 feet high and 3 feet wide, pictures a choir of angels.

The roof of the mausoleum consists of granite slabs 32 feet long, each weighing 15 tons, and so placed together that they overlap, making the roof waterproof. The whole temple weighs about 300 tons, and rests on a solid concrete foundation 8 feet thick.

The second rear catacomb from the bottom, on the left-hand side entering the tomb, is that of Mrs. Gould, who died January 13, 1889, and was interred January 16th. The letters “Emily Day Miller, wife of Jay Gould,” with the dates of her birth and death, are in high relief on the polished slab. Mrs. Gould’s body is the only one in the mausoleum.

The tomb was completed in 1883, and cost $50,000. Land and all it cost $110,000.