CHAPTER XVII.

THE FAMILY OF GOULD.

Jay Gould had no social ambition whatever. He was the most domestic of men, and his affection and attention to his own immediate family was so deep as to apparently leave no place for outside social influences.

Mr. Gould was greatly stricken by the death of his wife, which occurred January 13, 1889, after a long and painful illness. When she died there were present besides her husband and Mr. and Mrs. George Gould, her sons, Howard and Edwin; her daughters, Helen and Anna, and her sisters, Mrs. Harris, Mrs. Noyes and Mrs. Dickinson. Mrs. Gould was practically unknown in society, for the reason that she seldom cared to go into the fashionable world. Her home was world enough for her, and she made it a happy one. She was the idol of her children. Many stories are told of the private charities of this modest woman.

It was in the winter of 1862 that Jay Gould married Miss Helen D. Miller, the daughter of Daniel G. Miller, of the produce and grocery firm of Lee, Dater & Miller. Miss Miller was then twenty-three years old and lived with her parents at 33 East Seventeenth street, now the site of the _Century_ building. The house was one of those old-time mansions, few of which still exist in New York. In this house they lived for several years and here, on February 6, 1864, the first child, George Jay Gould, was born. Here also, Edwin, the second, was born two years later. Helen Gould, the oldest daughter, was born in 1870. Howard was born a year later. Their other children are Anna, who is now fifteen, and Frank, who is still a young boy.

George Jay Gould, the eldest son, instead of going to college went into business with his father, and has himself amassed a considerable fortune. He lived with his father until his marriage to Miss Edith Kingdon, once a member of the company at Daly’s theater, which took place several years ago. He has three children, two boys, Kingdon and Jay, and one little girl. After his marriage George bought the house, No. 1 East Forty-seventh street, adjoining the rear of his father’s home, from Amos Lawrence Hopkins. A passageway was built connecting the house with the Fifth avenue mansion. George Jay Gould lived there until about a month ago, when he moved to the house which he purchased from Jacob H. Schiff, at Fifth avenue and Sixty-seventh street. Edwin Gould then moved into the Forty-seventh street house. He is twenty-six years old and a graduate of Columbia college in the class of ’88.

Edwin Gould, the second son, was married October 27, 1892, to Miss Sarah Cantine Shrady, step-daughter of Dr. George F. Shrady, of No. 8 East Sixty-sixth street. The ceremony was performed by the Rev. Robert Collyer, at the house of the bride’s father. The presents received by the young couple were very costly and numerous. Mr. Gould sent besides the diamond pendant which the bride wore at the ceremony, 200 pieces of silver in a fine oak chest. After a short wedding trip Mr. and Mrs. Gould took up their residence at No. 1 East Forty-seventh street.

Edwin, though not so widely known as his brother, has an active interest in many of his father’s enterprises. He is a director of the Western Union Telegraph Company and of the Manhattan Elevated railroad. He is very fond of athletic sports, and belongs to the New York Athletic Club. He has been a member of Troop A, but resigned when he was appointed Inspector of Rifle Practice.

Miss Helen Miller Gould is about twenty-three years old. She is an active church-worker and a member of Dr. Paxton’s church. To her interest in missionary work has often been attributed the minister’s meeting at Mr. Gould’s house and the millionaire’s gift of $10,000 for missions. Howard Gould is twenty-one years old, Anna is a schoolgirl, and the youngest, Frank, is thirteen years old.

About a year ago cards were sent out by Mr. Jay Gould, which read simply:

............................................ . . . MR. JAY GOULD . . and . . MISS GOULD . . At Home . . Saturday, Dec. 26, from 3 until 7. . . . ............................................

As many as 3,000 of these were sent out, and every person in the social set was asked. This was nothing very unusual, as general invitations are frequently extended by people of personal prominence in this way. During the first couple of hours of the “at home” there were but few callers at the Gould house, but later they came in a steady stream.

The mothers of marriageable youths were very kindly disposed toward Miss Gould. Whether she was to achieve a social success has never yet been determined, for almost immediately after the coming out reception she left town with her father, who went away for his health. Social leaders say that with his great wealth Mr. Gould might easily have arranged for his daughter’s marriage to a man of great social rank. But Mr. Gould didn’t care to encourage the quest for his daughter’s hand on the part of men of great social rank. This was evidenced by the hearty consent he gave to the recent marriage of his son Edwin to Miss Shrady, the adopted daughter of Dr. Shrady.

When George J. Gould married Edith Kingdon, the actress, it was said there was opposition to it on the part of Mr. and Mrs. Gould, but if such was the case it never developed into anything definite. In fact the Goulds made much of their daughter-in-law when they came to know her. When Jay Gould became a grandfather he manifested the greatest interest in the children of his son. There are three of them at the present time.

Edwin Gould, the second son, takes after his father more than the other children in the matter of characteristics. He took a course at Columbia and rowed in the freshmen crew. As to how the elder Gould regarded the two boys, George and Edwin, an old financier, who knew Gould intimately, said:

“Either Jay Gould loves his sons George and Edwin to the point of indiscretion, or he has weighed them up in his keen way and thinks there’s a lot of sand in them.”

Mr. and Mrs. Gould were a couple happily married in the fullest sense of the term. Mr. Gould was exceedingly domestic in his tastes. He never cared much about going into society. His wife died some years ago.

Mrs. Gould had been fond of society, but gradually gave it up.

The pleasures of Jay Gould’s life were simple and few. With vast wealth at his command, he seldom sought recreation away from his immediate home. To a certain extent money-getting seemed to be a pleasure to him. In the many deals engineered by his master hand he felt the thrill of a nervy gambler who stakes his money on the turn of a card. It was not making money that worried him. It was keeping what he made and holding his own in the thousand and one schemes concocted to get the better of him.

His life was a continual game of chance, and in this game for many years he found his chief enjoyment in existence. It is not recorded that in the earlier years of his career Mr. Gould ever sought any physical relaxation in the way of sport or pastime. His whole mind, heart and soul lay between Wall street and his uptown home. Finally, however, money-making became an old story. Time and again he had milked Wall street dry, and his fortune had rolled up into the tens of millions. Then, observing an occasional smile on the faces of other millionaires, and hearing the laughter of light hearts all about him, he began to wonder if there were not other pleasures in the world outside of cent per cent. and the dull, eternal rows of figures that stood for stocks and bonds.

So one day he turned his back on the dingy office that represented his paradise and took a New York Central train for Irvington. Here he met Mr. Merritt, and was driven to the residence of the latter, a mile or so north of the old river town and close to the shore. Mr. Gould was very quiet and very reserved, but his keen eye took in all the possibilities of the place at a glance. When he returned to New York on the evening train he had closed a bargain with Mr. Merritt, by which the estate became his for a consideration of a quarter of a million of dollars.

A small army of builders and decorators and glaziers was employed, and out of the general chaos of bush and bramble arose the minarets of a modern palace, with wide, well-ordered grounds and every comfort one could wish for. Mr. Gould seemed to take great pleasure in planning the arrangements for his future country residence. For awhile all but the general detail of his business was put in the background. Every few days he would journey up to Irvington to see how matters were progressing. It may be safely said that these were the first leisure days of Mr. Gould’s life. His eyes grew brighter, his step more buoyant, and he began to look upon these little excursions as a pleasant diversion.

Sometimes he would take his younger children with him, and their unaffected happiness was another source of relaxation for the care-worn millionaire. Previous to this time money-making had been Mr. Gould’s exclusive thought. Thereafter it became to a certain degree intermittent.

Mr. Gould’s house on the Hudson, above Irvington, was called Lyndhurst. It is a stone structure of Elizabethan architecture, situated on a high green bluff overlooking the river and surrounded with a well-kept park. The entrance to the park is about a mile from Irvington, and is marked by two tall granite posts. A stone porter’s lodge is by the gate. Passing into the grounds one sees on every side the marks of the gardener’s care and the skill of the landscape gardener. There are not too many trees, only enough, and they are so grouped that while they make the house at the end of the driveway seem retired, they yet afford vistas through which glimpses can be caught of the stone towers and gables of the mansion.

Beyond the limits of the park lie fruitful and well-cultivated farmlands and orchards belonging to the Gould estate. One opening among the trees shows a gray tower and slender minarets. These mark the dog kennels. The driveway is broad and smooth, and winds over the undulating surface of the park toward the house. Some of the trees through which it runs are old oaks which have not been interfered with in the general plan of the grounds, but have been brought into stranger effect by the arrangement of the newer trees and the shrubbery. The road descends a little before it reaches the house and passes through a grove of evergreens. As one comes out of the dark grove, the beautiful house bursts at once on the sight of the visitor. Trim lawns surround it and beyond it the view is closed by the broad Hudson and the palisades beyond.

The central tower of the house rises high, bearing turrets at each of its four corners. The house is built of greystone, which is shot with bluish tints. It covers a large area and its many parts are grouped together so as to give an appearance which is at once beautiful and imposing. There are multitudes of graceful angles, mullioned windows, turrets and spires, all in harmony, and forming a picture delightful to look upon. Here and there are verandas with great windows opening upon them, and now and then a stone balcony high up. The great double doors of the main entrance are of stone even to the sashes of the diamond-paned windows at their top.

Inside the house there is a great hall in the center. On the right from the main entrance is the dining-room and on the left a large drawing-room. Everywhere are works of art, statuary and paintings. The house has a multitude of rooms in it and is built on a generous plan throughout. It is an ideal country home. Every window commands a beautiful view, but those on the west front have the finest. The Hudson can be seen for miles to the south and north. The palisades are seen in a magnificent sweep across the river, and the town of Nyack looks like a toy city on the further shore of the river. To the north are the mountains of the Highlands. The lawn at the west of the house slopes down to the edge of the bluff. Then there is a steep descent to the railroad track, which is hidden from view by thickly planted trees and shrubs growing on the declivity. A path leads down to a bridge over the track and a short distance on the other side brings one to the little wharf and boathouse. It was off this wharf that the Atalanta used to lie when Mr. Gould was at Lyndhurst.

The library in the house contains a splendid collection of books, which Mr. Gould bought from a man who had spent many years and much money in collecting them in all the markets of the world.

He erected a short distance away one of the largest and most handsomely equipped conservatories in the country. It covers nearly four acres, and from a distance looks like the fabled palace of Kubla Khan. Here there was another source of pleasure for the weary financier. He employed Ferdinand Mangold, Mr. Merritt’s former gardener, to take charge of the conservatory, and gave him carte blanche to procure the rarest flowers and exotics from all over the world. Mangold performed his work well. When the leaves grew yellow around Lyndhurst the autumn following the conservatory contained the finest palm garden on the Western hemisphere.

There are over 250 varieties, from the size of a maidenhair fern to great shadowy trees, thirty feet high and with leaves as wide as the jib of a pilot boat. They range in value from $20 to $500; but what is money to a millionaire in pursuit of the butterfly of pleasure. These palms were brought from Africa, Central and South America, Samoa, the Sandwich Islands, the heart of India and from beyond Trebizonde, for the simple purpose of wooing Mr. Gould’s pale face into a smile. There were _Viridifolium_, _Hyophorbe Americanlis_ and _Plectocomia Assamica_ palms without number, and Mr. Gould knew every one of them by name.

In another apartment was a wilderness of roses, pink and white, and gold and Guelder, Burgundy and Austrian in an endless tangle of color and a delirious, odorous atmosphere that would have enraptured the soul of a lotus eater. No wonder that Mr. Gould abandoned care when he entered the portals of his conservatory. He did not have many warm personal friends, yet surely a man can not be altogether bad who is a friend of the roses. There must be some good in the heart of a man whose eyes grow tender as he bends over a lily.

The conservatory became a hobby with Mr. Gould. Every morning after breakfast he would pay a visit to the big glass house to wander for an hour or so among the plants and flowers. While there he would seem to forget everything but the green, tropical tangle about him. In the evening, on his return from the city, he would again stroll through the shadowy aisles of palm and vine, sometimes alone and at others accompanied by the members of his family.

Orchids were Mr. Gould’s especial hobby. In this department of his conservatory he had nearly 8,000 orchid plants and over 150 varieties. For some of these delicate, air-fed and angel-painted blossoms Mr. Gould had paid $300--half the amount of a poor man’s wages for a year of toil. In another apartment were nearly 2,000 azaleas, little bits of sunset sky cut into the shape of bells. In the fernery were 600 varieties of ferns, giving the entire place the appearance of a soft green cloud hemmed in glass walls. Just the place for Titania and her fairies.

It is strange that this appreciation of pure and poetical things should exist in the soul of a man of such financial grimness. But it was doubtless in Mr. Gould’s nature before his life took on its acquired thirst for gold. When that thirst was in a measure satiated he turned again to his fundamental instincts and his great conservatory was the result.

Yet in the summer months Mr. Gould found much pleasure in his open-air garden. It was a big affair, guiltless of weeds, yet it is doubtful if Mr. Gould ever weeded his own potato patch or hoed his own turnips. There were beds for cantaloupes and watermelon, cucumbers, peas, beans, parsley, spinach, carrots, beets, lettuce and cauliflower, and Mr. Gould knew just where to find everything. For a short time every day he would walk through the garden, and doubtless dream of his old barefoot, boyhood days when he looked after his mother’s garden in Delaware county. He was a sort of intermittent farmer and seemed to find a transitory pleasure in everything that pertained to a farm. There was nothing in common, however, between Mr. Gould’s luxurious style of farming and that of the everyday horny-handed knight of the pitchfork and plow.

His barnyards and meadows, situated some distance from the conservatory, contained innumerable blooded stock. There were 50 cows, 25 horses, a span of oxen, 3 bulls, over a thousand chickens, 200 ducks and 500 pigeons, besides half a dozen deer. This gave the entire estate a farmlike aspect that was very pleasing to Mr. Gould. Over two hundred and fifty tons of hay were harvested in the fields of Lyndhurst every year. Mr. Gould took great pleasure in going out to the fields on summer afternoons to lie under the trees and watch the haying. The far-off drone of the flying sickle came to his brain as a soporific balm, and the sight of the sun-worn toilers heaving away at the great, slow wagons and the distant songs of the reapers lulled him to slumber.

In Mr. Gould’s stables there were fifteen or twenty carriages and conveyances of one kind or another, many of which were not used once a year. To get rid of malaria, Mr. Gould filled in over one hundred and twenty acres of swamp land. Mr. Merritt spent over $1,250,000 in improving the place and Mr. Gould spent about $1,500,000 in the same endeavor.

Mr. Gould was a great lover of art, and was continually purchasing statuary and paintings. Beyond the carriage archway leading to the outer hall of the Gould castle is a bust of Lafayette; on the other side is one of Washington. On the right of the inner hall is a bronze Ethiopian woman and a painting by Perrault. There are many marble busts and statues on onyx pedestals scattered throughout the house, most of which were purchased by Mr. Gould. In the picture gallery are innumerable rare paintings. Among them are “A Forest Scene,” by Rousseau; “A River Scene,” by Ziem; “Evening Antique Dance,” by Corot; “A Girl,” by Fleury; “A Storm on the Farm,” by Jacque; “Priest and Cavalier,” by Meissonier, and “Le Loup dans la berguerie,” by Loustaunau.

Then there are Vernets, Simonettis, Kaemmerers, Constants, Bouguereaus and Troyons innumerable, all of which were purchased, either directly or indirectly, by Mr. Gould. This was in the earlier stages of his home-making and before he had the fever of the farm and conservatory upon him.

Mr. Gould was not a great admirer of the drama, but he was rather fond of opera, and this formed almost his only public diversion during the winter months. He was seen very often at the Metropolitan during the opera season with his daughter and daughter-in-law.

In 1883 Mr. Gould built the big steam yacht Atalanta, and for several years he was well known in yachting circles. He was elected a member of the Eastern and Larchmont yacht clubs, and applied for membership in the New York Yacht Club. The opposition to his name which was developed in the club was so strong, however, that his friends withdrew his name. This furnished a sensation at the time. George J. Gould, who had for some time taken an active interest in yachting, and was a member of the club, at once resigned. Mr. Gould at one time had an idea of making a cruise around the world in the Atalanta, but abandoned it.

Soon after the launching of the Atalanta Mr. Gould and others formed the American Steam Yacht Club. The Atalanta developed remarkable speed and is to-day the fastest large steam yacht afloat. Mr. Gould had her built because he felt his health to be failing, and thought yachting would be beneficial to him. Until within the last two years he spent much time on board of her. She was used principally as a means of transportation between Lyndhurst, his home on the Hudson, and the city, though he made several extended cruises in her. It was not often that Mr. Gould would allow the Atalanta to be raced, but on the occasions when he did permit this she made records.

Mr. Gould presented to the Larchmont club a cup, called the Gould Cup, which is raced for every year. He also contributed largely to the International Challenge Cup, offered by the American Yacht Club for competition by steam yachts of different nations. He was always anxious to see a challenge for this cup, but so far no nation has challenged, owing to the great superiority in point of speed of the American steam yachts.

Mr. Gould seldom entertained people on board the Atalanta, but when he did entertain, his hospitality was perfect. He had the happy faculty of making his guests feel that the yacht was theirs and he himself was a guest on board. There was an excellently well-selected library on the yacht, and the craft was fitted throughout with quiet and substantial elegance.

The Atalanta is 243 feet long, 26½ feet beam and 15½ feet deep. She is built of iron and was designed and constructed by W. Cramp & Son, of Philadelphia. In June of 1886 she ran over the 85-knot course of the American Yacht Club, from Milton Point to New London, in 4 hours, 34 minutes and 57 seconds.

The house at No. 579 Fifth avenue, where Jay Gould died, had been his city home for several years. Before that he lived across the avenue, almost directly opposite his present house, which before Mr. Gould bought it was the home of George Opdyke, the banker, who enjoyed the distinction of being one of the few Republican mayors which New York has had. The house stands at the northeast corner of Fifth avenue and Forty-seventh street. It is a square, brownstone house, about double the width of the average house, with an extension in the rear. It is three stories in height, with a mansard roof, which gives another story. The main entrance is in the middle of the Fifth avenue front, under a portico into a deep vestibule with handsomely carved oaken doors and mosaic floor. The hall is fifty feet long. On the left of the hall is a small reception room with one window facing Fifth avenue. On the other side of the hall are the great drawing-rooms. The library and the dining-room are in the rear. Mr. Gould had a fine collection of standard books. The whole house was entirely redecorated only a short time ago, and is everywhere a model of comfort, elegance and good taste. It is filled with most exquisite tapestries and the finest paintings. Mr. Gould had specimens of the work of Diaz, Rousseau, Daubigny, Henner, Vibert, Rosa Bonheur, Voley, Jacquet, Schreyer, Bouguereau, Dupre and Meyer von Bremen.

Attached to the house is a conservatory, which is kept constantly filled with the finest plants from the hot-houses in the country house at Irvington.

Mr. Gould lived quietly in his handsome house, and few people other than intimate friends frequented it. He was devoted to his family and spent nearly all of his time not occupied with his financial operations with them. They in turn were devoted to him. Mrs. Gould for several years before her death had been in delicate health, could not attend church, and never took part in social pleasures. Her trouble was a nervous one, and she could not endure excitement. Thus the house was never given over to festivities to any extent. Sumptuous as it was, it did not compare in size or display with that of other men whose fortunes rivaled Mr. Gould’s, or, in fact, with the homes of many whose wealth was not a tenth of his. All looked at the place with interest, however, when it was pointed out as the retreat of the remarkable man whose public life was so dramatic, and whose home life was so quiet and so peaceful.

Mr. Gould attended the recent horse show on three afternoons, but these are the only occasions he ever publicly exhibited any particular liking for horses. His city stable is one of a row on West Forty-fourth street, between the Berkeley school building and Fifth avenue. It is a two-story, twenty-foot front brick building trimmed with granite. It is No. 14 West Forty-fourth street. It is a neatly arranged stable of the old-fashioned, oak-trimmed pattern common in the neighborhood. Mr. Gould kept only three pairs of horses at the time of his death, and they are all quartered in the building. Four of the horses are cobby bays, two with docked and two with banged tails. The other two are long-tailed black roadsters, and the most valuable of the lot. None of the horses would bring a fancy price if put up at auction, but they are all of the good, plain sort that will stand plenty of work.

Simplicity was the chief characteristic of the carriages used by Mr. Gould. He always bought the best and paid the prices asked without cavilling, but the first outlay was all the carriages ever cost him. He was careless in the extreme regarding repairs or fresh trimmings, seldom having any work done on any of his vehicles. Mr. Gould always selected his carriages personally, and always bought from the same firm. He was easy to suit, always telling just what he wanted and taking the first carriage that met his ideas.

James Downs is the Gould coachman. He has served the family for over ten years. The carriages at the stable ready for use are a brougham, landau, victoria and a hunting wagon. The last is gaudy in yellow and black and is the newest of the vehicles. The others are plain in coloring and are what driving people call old style. Jay Gould’s livery is a dark green, and was worn on the usual occasions by both coachman and footman.

Two years ago Mrs. George Gould was in the habit of giving her father-in-law early morning drives in Central Park, calling for him daily in a neat trap of her own. With this exception he seldom drove for pleasure in the city. At Irvington he was occasionally seen driving on the roads near his residence. Until the purchase of his yacht Mr. Gould drove to and from the railroad station daily, but since then he has only taken drives at infrequent intervals.

None of the Gould family is especially devoted to riding or driving. George Gould keeps six carriage horses and a saddle horse at his stable, No. 133 West Fifty-fifth street, but they are more for Mrs. Gould’s use than his own. His coachman, William Willis, has eight carriages and light traps to care for. Edwin Gould is a capital rider, and until his promotion to a captaincy and the post of Inspector of Rifle Practice in the Seventy-first Regiment, was an active member of Troop A. He always rode a long-tailed gray thoroughbred, for which he paid a high price. Edwin Gould was very proficient at wrestling on horseback, and few of the cavalrymen could unseat him. The Misses Gould drive daily during their stay at Irvington, using the family carriages or else handling the reins in the hunting wagon or in a mail phaeton.