A Woman of Independent Means (7 page)

Ever your
Bess

August 12, 1913
Florence

Dear Lydia,

Despite our truncated stay here, we have managed to see all the art masterpieces I had studied in school and quite a few I had not.

Mother Steed was somewhat shocked when she saw Michelangelo's
David
for the first time, and the size is indeed overwhelming. Though I myself am not shocked by anything I see in stone, I was not prepared for Italian men in the flesh. In every other country my very obvious condition has protected me from all the suggestions to which a woman traveling alone is prey. In Italy my condition, if noticed at all, appears only to enhance my attractiveness to the opposite sex. Even Mother Steed cannot walk down the street without comment. At home a forty-five-year-old widow is considered old; in Italy she is merely regarded as ripe. This is definitely the country to visit when your children are grown and you are beginning to feel your life is over—though, frankly, I cannot imagine ever feeling that way.

If we spoke Italian perhaps we could carry on an intelligent conversation with the men who follow us everywhere, but as it is we have to try to ignore the remarks they address to us and speak only to each other. Since arriving in Italy, we have gotten in the habit of eating dinner in our hotel rooms with the children, and we have given up our evening strolls after dinner. I bought an Italian-English dictionary and study it faithfully each evening but so far have not been able to find any of the words spoken to me by the men on the street.

I am delighted that Manning is joining Rob in business. When will you be moving to Dallas? I look forward to helping you find and furnish a house. Much is expected of the wife of a man going into business in a new city. I know Rob will give Manning the benefit of his experience and I will do no less for you.

Affectionately,
Bess

August 15, 1913
Rome

Beloved,

How I miss you! These warm Italian nights create such longings inside me. It is unbearable to be alone.

We went for a long carriage ride tonight and saw the ruins by moonlight. Time seems so fluid here. We step back and forth from past to present and I can even glimpse the future, imagining grandchildren and great-grandchildren retracing our footsteps through the Forum.

You would enjoy this city more than any we have seen. That must be why I think I see you on every street corner—or perhaps it is simply our long separation that causes me to envision what I most long to see. Our unborn child is already demanding its right to a separate identity. I was almost asleep just now when the kicking woke me. Now all is still again but I cannot go back to sleep so I sit awake dreaming of once again lying in your arms.

All my love,
Bess

August 19, 1913
Naples

Dear Papa and Mavis,

This is the last letter you will receive with a foreign postmark.

Today we visited the ruins of Pompeii. Mother Steed says if she had a choice she would die like a citizen of Pompeii—caught without warning in the midst of life. Not I. I intend to give as much thought to my death as I have to my life. Nor do I want to be just another name in a long list of victims. I have no intention of being associated in death with people whose company I would not choose in life.

What is there about traveling in Europe that makes one view one's own life as part of history? It is an exhilarating feeling and one I never experienced living in Texas. But it is a perspective I plan to keep for the rest of my life.

All my love,
Bess

October 12, 1914
Dallas

Frau Heinrich Mittler
6 Mindenstrasse
München, Deutschland

 

My dear Frau Mittler,

Annie has just told me of the sad loss of your son in the war. My deepest condolences. I am heartsick at what has befallen all the places and people we came to love just a summer ago. It is difficult for us to understand at this distance what is happening in Europe. No matter what official position our country takes, I will remain torn between the two sides, like my own great-grandmother, who had sons fighting against each other in our War Between the States.

You were so kind to us when we were in Germany, and Annie is like a member of our own family. You have my assurance that she will be always.

With deepest sympathy and abiding affection, I remain,

Yours truly,
Bess Steed

May 15, 1915
Dallas

Dear Papa and Mavis,

It breaks my heart to think of the fate that has befallen our lovely
Lusitania
since she carried us across the Atlantic two years ago. And though I pray we will return some day, we will never again see the Europe we saw in 1913.

We are all in good health, though Rob is working so hard I fear for his. Life insurance keeps him away from home more than I would like, but a new business is much like a new baby. It demands your total attention in the early years but soon grows quite independent. Eleanor no longer walks anywhere, she runs. None of us can keep up with her. I hope there is a special angel that looks out for small children because it is an impossible task for anyone without wings.

Annie has been in a state of great emotional stress ever since the war started, and I am afraid the job of caring for the children has become too much for her. So I have relieved her of that responsibility and her work is now confined to housekeeping. I have hired a lovely Scottish gentlewoman, the mother of the golf pro at the Dallas Country Club, to look after the children. Her name is Flora McCullough and her brogue is as pronounced as Annie's thick German accent but it is a more pleasing sound, especially in these troubled times. She is quite a bit older than Annie but the children are past the age of needing purely physical care; what they require now is someone from a background compatible to their own to give direction to their minds.

Much love,
Bess

 

 

AUGUST 5 1916
DALLAS

 

ROBERT STEED
JEFFERSON HOTEL
ST LOUIS MISSOURI
ELEANOR STRUCK BY AUTO IN COMA AT BAYLOR
COME HOME AT ONCE

 

BESS

August 12, 1916
Dallas

Mr. Arthur Fineman
1300 N. Beckley
Oak Cliff, Texas

 

Dear Mr. Fineman,

Thank you for your letter of last week. I was not able to answer it until today when my child finally emerged from her coma. The multiple fractures she suffered left her immobile from head to toe. But this morning when she opened her eyes and smiled at me for the first time in a week, I felt as if she had leapt out of bed.

Thank you for your offers of assistance but we have the means of dealing with this emergency. Let me assure you again in writing that my husband and I have no intention of pressing any legal charges against you. My child stepped directly into the path of your car, and no driver could have humanly avoided the accident that followed.

I hold myself responsible. I had her hand in mine when she suddenly pulled free and ran to join her older brothers who had crossed the street ahead of us with their nurse. I ran after her and reached for her just as she stepped into the street—but too late. I have relived this scene continuously since it happened, as I am sure you have too. I cannot talk about it with anyone in my family; you are the only one who can share my guilt. Even my beloved husband appears to me now in the guise of grief-stricken father, and his usually comforting presence serves only as an unspoken reproach. I have never felt more alone in my life.

Life is so much more dangerous now than it was when I was growing up. I lived in a small town without sidewalks, and I remember skipping in the street alongside horses and carriages, with no thought that anything on wheels could ever hurt me or anything I loved. But that was before the automobile.

I must close now. Eleanor is waking up again.

Yours truly,
Bess Steed

August 15, 1916
The Clouds

Darling Eleanor,

You are the first mortal to receive a letter from the kingdom of the clouds, but all of us have been watching you in your bed in the hospital and we wanted to tell you how brave and strong we think you are.

The doll that brought this letter is the kind our children play with here in the clouds. Her eyes are as blue as the sky, her hair shines like the sun, and her dress is the color of sunset.

We know you have to lie very still all day, and all you can see from your window is the sky. But the sky is our world and more interesting than anyone on earth can imagine. Look closely and you will see us hiding among the stars and sleeping on the clouds. And we will look down at the earth and tell you all the funny things the other mortals are doing.