Hetty_ The Genius and Madness of America's First Female Tycoon - Charles Slack [68]
The dispute erupted in 1888, when the trustees decided to sell a 651-acre parcel of Chicago real estate Hetty’s father had purchased during the 1860s. The trustees claimed the time was ripe to sell at a profit. Hetty’s philosophy on real estate was simple, its wisdom borne out over and over in her experience. Hold on to property.
Hetty responded with a typically audacious move. In June 1889, when Barling was off on an extended vacation in Europe—paid for, Hetty no doubt fumed, with her money—she arrived at his New York office at 46 South Street in the company of several men from Chemical National Bank.
Hetty did all of the talking. She stood in the middle of the office and demanded that the clerks turn over all the securities on hand. As the clerks demurred, Hetty grew more loud and insistent. She had come for what was rightfully hers. With Barling gone, the clerks’ resistance crumbled. They turned over stacks of bonds and stock certificates, worth a total of $3 million. Nobody said a word as Hetty and her companions stuffed the securities into several large bags and marched out the door to a waiting carriage. When Barling, in Paris, received the news by cable, he immediately cut short his vacation and returned to New York. He went straight to the Broadway offices of Chemical Bank and demanded that the cashier return all of the securities and papers immediately. “This the cashier did with due gravity, but promptly, and now the executor is once more in charge of the affairs of the Robinson estate,” the New York World reported on June 9.
A reporter found Barling sitting on the verandah of his home in Highwood a day or two later, and asked if he intended to return to Europe to finish his trip.
“No,” Barling said nervously. “I shall be obliged, the way things look, to remain on this side, for the present at least, and look personally after the interest entrusted to me.”
All of that merely served as prelude to a series of suits and countersuits filed by both sides that became so entangled that a New York judge named H. H. Anderson was appointed to serve as referee, to attempt to straighten out the mess of accusations. For two years, the litigants filed into Anderson’s offices at 35 Broadway for a seemingly endless series of hearings whose arcane minutiae were leavened only by Hetty’s antics. Anderson didn’t appreciate the show, but the reporters did.
In the winter of 1895, Hetty set the tone for one day’s hearing by marching into the room, slapping Barling on the back, and exclaiming, in a hearty voice, “How d’ye do, Mr. Barling?”
Hetty’s attorney began questioning Barling about Abner Davis and why he would continue to receive commissions