Hetty_ The Genius and Madness of America's First Female Tycoon - Charles Slack [39]
Edward’s mother was no match for Hetty’s forceful nature. Anna had no doubt expected to live out her remaining days in genteel comfort and contentment, surrounded by Edward, his bride, and the two grandchildren. Instead, she found herself sharing her suddenly too small home with a loud, opinionated woman who questioned every incidental expense, harangued her beloved maid, and didn’t even bother to make herself presentable. Neighbors on Henry Street were shocked one day to see Hetty on the roof, seated, wearing hoop skirts, hammering away. Why pay workmen for a simple repair job?
It was all too much for Mary. She threatened to quit. Anna, terrified at the prospect of days alone with her daughter-in-law, begged her to stay. Mary agreed, and remained until the next summer, when on June 28, 1875, at seventy-three, Anna died. Regarding Anna’s death we have only Mary’s wholly biased and nonmedical diagnosis that distress over Hetty’s overbearing ways sped her decline. At any rate, Anna’s funeral led to one of the few times that Mary (or anyone else) saw Edward react violently to Hetty. As the family gathered for a postfuneral dinner, Edward raised a drinking glass to his lips and noticed it was old and cracked. This was not his mother’s prized crystal, but cheap kitchen ware.
“Where is the crystal?” he asked evenly.
Hetty told him she’d packed it away. No point risking valuable heirlooms when everyday glasses hold liquid just as well. Edward stared at the glass, his face slowly flushing with anger. He stood, hurled the glass against a wall, shattering it, and walked out of the room.
At other times, Edward’s protest was more reserved. One day, as he headed to the station to catch a train for New York, Hetty discovered that he had forgotten to take along an extra pair of pants. She followed him to the train and handed him the pants, which he took without comment. When the train rolled out of the station, Edward discreetly tossed them into the canal below.
Soon after that, Hetty and Mary had the mutual pleasure of parting company. Mary dragged her bags to the door and insisted that Hetty open and examine them so she could never accuse Mary of stealing. They argued over her final paycheck. Hetty refused to pay. Mary found Edward having lunch with some friends at a hotel. She approached his table and said, “Don’t you think it’s about time I had my pay?” Green, chagrined, sent to the hotel’s office for pen and ink, and promptly wrote Mary a check for the full amount.
In 1879, five years after the family arrived in Bellows Falls, Edward Green made what would prove to be the last major material purchase of his life, his final grand gesture in the face of Hetty’s irresistible penury. He bought a large, square, yellow brick home on a bluff overlooking the Connecticut River, around the corner from Henry Street. Built in 1806, the house had been owned by his grandfather, owner of the toll bridge. Known as the Tucker House, it was an imposing structure with immense chimneys and a widow’s walk crowning the roof. The house occupied a choice piece of ground just south of the town square, at the corner of Church and Westminster Streets. From a rocking chair on the broad front porch, you could