Hetty_ The Genius and Madness of America's First Female Tycoon - Charles Slack [21]
The remaining million dollars—about half of what Hetty had expected to receive—would go into a trust, of which Hetty (after taxes, commissions, trustee’s fees, and other payments) would receive the income. It was enough money to make her a wealthy woman, with around $65,000 a year in income. But if she had any inkling of what was being done in that farmhouse bedroom on that September night, it would have confirmed all of her worst fears. Hetty herself would have no control over the bulk of the money. It’s direction would be in the hands of others—and one of the guiding hands, reaping rewards for himself all the while, would be the detested interloper, Dr. Gordon. Even if the arrangements were entirely Sylvia’s idea, the doctor emerges as a dubious character, if not an outright cad. He was, after all, prescribing mind-altering medication to a dying woman whose last-minute financial decisions stood to make him rich.
And there was another feature of the will guaranteed to infuriate Hetty. Upon Hetty’s death, the remainder of the trust was to be divided among the multitudinous heirs of Gideon Howland Sr., Sylvia’s paternal grandfather.
The breadth of Sylvias new will, promising to scatter manna into so many hands, did more than just increase the number of beneficiaries of her goodwill. It also severely isolated Hetty and even, in a way, put a price on her head. Dozens of people stood to inherit money when Hetty died. Even if Hetty was not aware of Aunt Sylvia’s plans, she was extremely suspicious. Banned from Round Hill, she seethed in New York. Hetty would later claim that she knew nothing of the new will until after Sylvia’s death. According to their agreement, Sylvia had to inform Hetty of the new will, a point that would become a central argument in Hetty’s case to have the will overturned. There is, however, compelling evidence that Hetty soon learned about the existence, if not the details, of the new will.
On August 1, 1864, Edward Robinson wrote to Thomas Mandell a letter that, introduced as evidence in the trial, would severely weaken Hetty’s claims to have been in the dark about Sylvia’s new will:
Hetty has heard from some person confidentially that her Aunt S.A.H. has made another Will. I am indifferent about it myself—strange as it may seem to you. Hetty is much troubled about it—made sick, etc.—If you could without a breach of confidence let me know if you know anything I shall be obliged. I have not hinted to her that I should or had written to you or anyone. One of Hetty’s connections told her, (so Hetty said to me) she had better get or take all her aunt would give her, as no one knew what might happen.
If Edward was indifferent to the existence of Sylvia’s new will, it is safe to say he would have been less so about Sylvia’s next step, which she took four months after he wrote that letter. On November 28, 1864, she signed a codicil to her will. Some of the provisions were unremarkable: trusts of $2,500 to $10,000 were made to a few relatives, and $20,000 toward the establishment of a National Sailors’ Home, to care for indigent seamen. But then the codicil (like the will, dictated to Dr. Gordon) gets interesting. First, it revoked the $100,000 bequest to Robinson, “for reasons which I think sufficient.” Sylvia had never cared for Robinson, but she had been intimidated by him. But she felt increasingly confident in the strength of her will. “I have made it good and strong,” she told a servant one day. “I have made it so strong that Edward M. Robinson cannot break it.”
The primary beneficiary of Sylvia’s codicil was Dr. Gordon. In addition to the $50,000 and perpetual trustee fees awarded in the will, he would now receive an additional $50,000, “in grateful acknowledgment of his professional and other services and kindnesses rendered