A Woman of Independent Means

by Elizabeth Forsythe Hailey

  Dear Father Steed,

  I am sorry to learn of your illness, and I hope you will soon be well enough to resume your place on the school board.

  Please allow us to help you and Mother Steed in any way we can. A life devoted to public service has its own rewards, I am sure, but freedom from financial worry is not one of them.

  In the two years since we have been married Rob has made a substantial place for himself in the real estate profession. I know you are disappointed he did not follow in your footsteps but had he chosen the field of education, he would have always lived in the shadow of your success and now he enjoys the sunlight of his own.

  I trust you are as proud of him as I am—and will tell him so when you see him.

  Rob brings with him my love and heartfelt wishes for your recovery.

  Bess

  September 10, 1911

  Dallas

  Dear Heart,

  How sad to be spending nights in this house without you. I am overwhelmed by its loneliness. However, I realize that your father’s estate makes demands that need more immediate attention than mine.

  Now that I am again so visibly with child, I am trying to abide by convention and confine my daily circuit to our property. However, it was so beautiful this morning I could not resist taking Robin out in the surrey for a drive along Rawlins Street. To my delight there was a “For Sale” sign on the corner lot we have so often admired. In your absence I felt I had no choice but to make an immediate offer. Fortunately propriety does not prevent a woman in my condition from spending money.

  Hurry home, dear heart—to reclaim the legacy of my love.

  Ever your

  Bess

  December 20, 1911

  Dallas

  Dearest Papa,

  We are so pleased you will be spending Christmas with us and bringing Miss Bromley with you. She sounds like a lady of admirable qualities. I visited in Mineola several times as a school-girl but the only Bromleys I remember were girls my age. Perhaps your Miss Bromley is an older relative.

  Your namesake is doing fine. Even at the age of six weeks he has your dignified manner. He never cries, but his very presence is a command for our total attention. His older brother does not seem the least bit jealous but treats the baby as just one more curiosity in a world which has suddenly become accessible now that he is walking.

  I have been meeting almost daily with the architect who is drawing plans for our new house. Building will begin as soon as he agrees with me on the plans—early in the new year, I trust.

  A kiss until I see you.

  Your devoted daughter,

  Bess

  January 2, 1912

  Dallas

  Dear Mavis,

  Imagine my surprise when the Miss Bromley my father was escorting turned out to be my croquet partner of so many summers ago.

  Watching my father with you, I began to think of him as a contemporary—an unsettling but ultimately rewarding experience. I have never seen him in better spirits and I am convinced the credit goes to you.

  I can imagine the talk your friendship is causing in towns the size of Honey Grove and Mineola. To be frank, the disparity in your ages did not go without comment even in a city as large as Dallas, but perhaps that was my fault for planning an evening at the country club. Next time you visit, I expect we would all be more comfortable dining at home.

  It was a joy to see you again—and to see my father so happy in your company.

  Affectionately,

  Bess

  January 10, 1912

  Received of Robert Randolph Steed the sum of $5,000 (five thousand dollars). Balance due: $14,000 (fourteen thousand dollars).

  Elizabeth Alcott Steed

  WITNESSED BY: Annie Hoffmeyer

  Hans Hoffmeyer

  July 18, 1912

  Dallas

  Dear Mother Steed,

  Our new house is nearly completed, and we hope you will share it. It is larger than the house where I spent my girlhood, but then Dallas is larger than Honey Grove so more is expected of us.

  My father’s marriage to Mavis Bromley has left me feeling somewhat bereft. I was still very dependent on my mother at the time of her death, and now in a strange way I feel I have lost my father too. This is no reflection on Mavis. I delight in her quick wit and unfailing good humor but there are times when I long for the advice and guidance of an older generation.

  We will furnish the guest room to your taste if you will agree to occupy it on a regular basis. You are now the only mother I have left in this world.

  Your loving

  daughter-in-law,

  Bess

  August 19, 1912

  Dallas

  Dear Lydia,

  Your mother has become a valued member of our household, and we hope she will live here permanently. You have been a devoted daughter but it is the responsibility of a son to care for his parents in their old age, and your Manning should not be thrust into this role by marriage.

  How is business at his store? He is such an intelligent, well-spoken man, but accounting cannot come easily to a man with his literary outlook on life. Fortunately, figures have always held a poetic fascination for me.

  I hope you and Manning will visit us soon in our splendid new setting.

  Fondly,

  Bess

  October 2, 1912

  St. Louis, Missouri

  Dear Papa and Mavis,

  We have only traveled to St. Louis but I feel I am seeing the world for the first time. I will never be content to stay at home again—at least not for very long at a time. I am twenty-one. A third of my life is over (or maybe just a quarter—I am looking forward to a very long old age), and I am just discovering what a small part of the world Texas is, though you would never know it from living there.

  I hope this will be the first of many trips Rob and I make together. I will go with him anywhere—for business or pleasure, though to him business is pleasure, a feeling I am beginning to share.

  My love to you both,

  Bess

  October 3, 1912

  St. Louis

  Darling Robin and Drew,

  Daddy and I miss you so much. We spent this afternoon walking through a beautiful park full of exotic plants and animals. The plants are in a building called the Jewel Box and the animals are in the best zoo I have ever seen. If I were a lion or tiger, I would rather live in the St. Louis Zoo than in the wilds of Africa.

  Daddy is doing lots of business here, so we will come again soon and bring you with us. Remember, Robin, you are the man of the house while your father is away, so take good care of your grandmother and your baby brother until we return.

  Hugs and kisses,

  Mummy

  October 10, 1912

  St. Louis

  Dear Mother Steed,

  You would be so proud to see what a grand impression your son is making on all the important people of this city. He is the kind of man whose business will take him to the ends of the earth before he is through and I ask nothing more of life than to travel there with him.

  I have decided to celebrate our return with a formal dinner party at home. Would you please take the enclosed sample to the printer and order fifty engraved invitations. I have left the date blank until you check with the caterer to see if she is available on either October 29 or 30.

  Tell Annie not to be nervous at the prospect of a formal dinner party. I will hire someone to serve. And I give her my word she will not have to leave the kitchen, so she will not need a new uniform.

  We long to see the children—and I suspect you long just as fervently to have them out of your sight for a while.

  Fondly,

  Bess

  October 20, 1912

  Dallas, Texas

  Dear Lydia,

  Your letter was waiting on our return from a glorious three weeks in St. Louis. We are anxious to see you and Manning but we have a social commitment we cannot cancel on October 29. Would the fo
llowing weekend be equally convenient? We will plan a family picnic at Exall Lake so there will be no danger of interruption from well-meaning friends. We look forward to seeing you.

  Love from us both,

  Bess

  January 10, 1913

  Received of Robert Randolph Steed on this date the sum of $14,000 (fourteen thousand dollars), repaying in full the loan of $20,000 (twenty thousand dollars) contracted on January 10, 1911.

  Elizabeth Alcott Steed

  WITNESSED BY: Annie Hoffmeyer

  Hans Hoffmeyer

  February 28, 1913

  Dallas

  Dear Papa and Mavis,

  My life as a Dallas matron is proving very conducive to my continuing education.

  I take French lessons two afternoons a week from a lovely Parisienne whose family owns a millinery shop on Oak Lawn. We redo my spring hats while we conjugate verbs.

  Yesterday I read my first paper before the Shakespeare Club. The most prominent women in the city comprise its membership, so I was extremely nervous when I stood to address them. However, my first attempt at literary scholarship was received with great enthusiasm. Apparently I am not alone in my admiration of Lady Macbeth.

  Devotedly,

  Bess

  March 18, 1913

  Dallas

  Dear Lydia,

  Congratulations to you and Manning on the birth of your daughter. Robin and Drew are very excited about the arrival of their first first cousin—and the first girl in the family, though I trust not the last. I am expecting our third child—and praying for a girl. The experience of pregnancy is much too familiar not to hope for a conclusion of a different gender.

  I dread the long summer ahead—no dinner parties, no dances at the country club, no evenings at the theater. How shall I pass the time until my due date of September 10? I so wish I could spend the summer in a place where pregnancy is a source of pride rather than embarrassment.

  Please give Mother Steed our love. We miss her but understand your need comes first for now. Kiss the baby for me and tell her a new cousin will join her as soon as her impatient aunt can arrange it. Her uncle Rob adds his kiss to mine.

  Love,

  Bess

  April 21, 1913

  Dallas

  Dear Mother Steed,

  Ever since Annie described to me the freedom accorded expectant mothers in Europe, I have been hinting to Rob that I would be happier spending the summer abroad. Today he surprised me with steamship reservations for a transatlantic crossing, departing New York City May 30, arriving Southampton June 8. One of the reservations is for you, if you are willing.

  When I spoke of traveling abroad, I of course hoped—and indeed assumed—Rob would be at my side, but unfortunately his business will keep him at home. He seems to have complete faith in my ability to manage without him. Why else would he encourage me to make this trip? I suppose I should be flattered. I’ve done everything in my power since the early months of our marriage to persuade him to treat me as a full and equal partner instead of a helpless wife who has to be protected by her husband from the outside world. But sometimes I wonder if I have not succeeded too well. I just hope he will miss me as much as I shall miss him.

  However, I am thrilled at the thought of seeing Europe—with or without Rob. And we will not lack for male companionship since Robin and Drew will be with us—and of course our devoted Annie to look after them. Annie has not been home to Germany in ten years, so she is very excited about the trip. Hans will be staying here with Rob. Apparently he has no desire to see his homeland again.

  I have traveled extensively in my mind since the year tuberculosis confined me to my room, but no mental journey can compare to the excitement of actually leaving home. I hope you will share my enthusiasm—and the trip.

  Devotedly,

  Bess

  April 25, 1913

  Dallas

  Dear Lydia,

  I know you were sorry to see Mother Steed depart, but now that the baby is six weeks old, you should be able to manage alone. We have so much to do here getting ready for the trip.

  My friends are horrified at the thought of a woman in my condition undertaking such a voyage without her husband and with two small children, but none could suggest a more interesting way to spend the final months of pregnancy.

  My only regret is that Rob will not be with me. We have shared every new adventure from the day we met in the fourth grade. It does not seem right for me to be seeing Europe for the first time without him. But the commitment that keeps him at home—his business—is the very one which enables all of us to go, so I must not complain.

  Affectionately,

  Bess

  April 29, 1913

  Dallas

  Dear Papa and Mavis,

  Thank you for your letters, both of which arrived this morning, but your fears are groundless, I assure you. No one could be more concerned about my condition than Rob—or more solicitous of my health and well-being. More than anything he wants me to be happy, and he knows how oppressed I would have felt at home this summer hiding behind shuttered windows. It is ironic that the Old World is more permissive concerning the conduct of pregnant women than the New World. We may have won our freedom as a country in 1776 but in the area of feminine rights the battle is still raging.

  We will be traveling in complete comfort and style. Rob is making sure we have the best possible accommodations everywhere. We will return to Dallas in ample time for me to prepare for the birth of the baby in September and the start of the fall social season in October.

  Devotedly,

  Bess

  May 28, 1913

  en route to New York City

  Dear Heart,

  I know of no other husband in the world who could stand at the train station and wave his wife and family such a dear, brave good-bye. For one brief moment I wanted to pull the emergency cord and run back into your arms—but our reunion will be even sweeter in September.

  The motion of the ship rocking on the ocean will be most welcome after two nights of grinding, jostling train travel along rocky roadbeds. I have read that the train tracks linking this country were laid by convicts and immigrants; with every rock they placed they must have sought revenge on the privileged classes who were to benefit from their labors.

  I lay awake much of each night, with the window shade raised, watching the dark landscape rush past. Last night the train sped through the heart of a forest fire, and I watched with fascination as the flames encircled but could not touch us. Sometimes my life seems as safe and insulated to me as the compartment in which I was riding last night. I see the flames of death and deprivation outside, but they do not touch me.

  All my love,

  Bess

  June 3, 1913

  aboard the Lusitania

  Dear Heart,

  Flowers seemed to be growing from the walls of our stateroom when we arrived on board ship. How thoughtful and generous you are! We are surrounded on this voyage with evidence of your affection—the telegrams, the baskets of fruit, the champagne, the model ships for the boys. Thank you for everything —but especially for the flowers and the tender note that accompanied them. I fall asleep amid their scent each night, dreaming of your embrace.

  Oh my love, how I cherish those blossoms around my solitary bed. When you are beside me, I am garden enough. I burst into bloom at your touch. Without you, I lie fallow, my only satisfaction watching a rose unfold. Why am I not content knowing I am nurturing a new bud of life inside me? Most of the women of my acquaintance find their husbands irrelevant during these months of impending motherhood, but the constant, tangible evidence of our love that I carry serves only to fan the flames of my desire.

  Oh, my beloved missing half, how I yearn for your completion! I would surrender to you tonight more eagerly than I did on our wedding night. Then I only suspected the delights in store for me. Now I know what I am being denied by distance and circumstance—and every cell of my being cri
es out in protest.

  Dearest, write as often as you can—and, please, no more letters dictated to your secretary. I know you think Miss Hop-kins only types your letters but I suspect she also reads them. Take pen in hand late at night, my darling, the last thing before you fall asleep. Release me with words until I am back in your arms.

  I am yours forever,

  Bess

  June 6, 1913

  aboard the Lusitania

  Dear Lydia,

  I hope you will not find my handwriting illegible. For the past twenty-four hours we have been buffeted by high winds. All the furniture has been roped down, and the waves are so high no one is allowed to stroll on deck.

  I spent most of the day in the stateroom, looking after Annie and Mother Steed, both of whom are suffering from severe cases of “mal de mer.” The boys are fine. They put on their cowboy suits this morning and pretended that the raging sea was their bucking bronco. Each time the boat lurched, they howled with delight. And fortunately I too have survived the storm and stayed on my feet. Compared to the first few weeks of pregnancy, a storm at sea is a trifle.

  I wish you could have seen Robin celebrating his third birthday. He was seated at the place of honor at the captain’s table, wearing his starched white sailor suit—and there was not a man or woman on board who would not have liked to claim him. We were all given paper hats to wear and whistles to blow, and there was much merrymaking as a huge, three-tiered cake was wheeled into the room. The band played “Happy Birthday” and when it was over, Robin astonished us all by giving the captain a crisp salute.

  Mother Steed says he won’t remember anything about the occasion in another year but that seems of no importance to me. He understood everything that was happening as it happened. At that moment he was truly and completely happy and what more should any of us expect from life?

  Tomorrow is our last day aboard and I am as excited about my first glimpse of the Old World as Columbus was when he sighted the New.