The interior is 20 feet long, 7 feet wide and 13 feet high. Its roof is a solid slab of granite, which weighs six tons. The border of the ceiling is paneled with egg and dart moulding. The floor is one plain marble slab. Along the sides of the interior are the catacombs. Of these there are twenty, ten on each side, in double rows. The rows are separated from each other by granite slabs. Each catacomb is 7½ feet long and 2½ feet wide. Between the lower end of the catacombs and the outside of the wall of the tomb is a thickness of 18 inches. The outer part of this thickness is, of course, granite, but facing the interior the walls are of light pink and cream-colored Tennessee marble, highly polished. The light enters the crypt through a stained glass window in the back. This window, which is 6 feet high and 3 feet wide, pictures a choir of angels.

The roof of the mausoleum consists of granite slabs 32 feet long, each weighing 15 tons, and so placed together that they overlap, making the roof waterproof. The whole temple weighs about 300 tons, and rests on a solid concrete foundation 8 feet thick.

The second rear catacomb from the bottom, on the left-hand side entering the tomb, is that of Mrs. Gould, who died January 13, 1889, and was interred January 16th. The letters “Emily Day Miller, wife of Jay Gould,” with the dates of her birth and death, are in high relief on the polished slab. Mrs. Gould’s body is the only one in the mausoleum.

The tomb was completed in 1883, and cost $50,000. Land and all it cost $110,000.

CHAPTER XVI.
PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS OF JAY GOULD.

Much of the interest in the life and career of Mr. Gould is in regard to his personal characteristics and qualifications, and much that is to be learned from his life is to be gained from the study of the same circumstances. The varying opinions regarding him are perhaps more widely different than those concerning any other great financier. As has been said, there are those who see in him all that was ideal in the character of a powerful money monarch. There are more whose criticisms can not be made too scathing, whose denunciations can not be made too strong. In an impartial history, all such opinions must be represented.

It is a relief to turn from the record of Gould’s public career to the contemplation of his private life. As has already been said, in all his domestic relations Gould was a model man. He had no habits but that of hard work and home enjoyments. He did not use tobacco in any form. He rarely, if ever, sipped a glass of wine. Social scandal never attached to his name. He loved his home. When not in his office he was with his family. He owned a box at the opera, but when he attended his family always accompanied him. He belonged to no social clubs. He did not add the excitement of the turf to the excitement of the Stock Exchange. On his return from a journey his first questions were of the welfare of his family. He made his home as beautiful as wealth, refinement and purity could make it. He loved his children, the sweet discourse of the fireside and the companionship of books and flowers. There was no attempt at display, but everything he possessed was the best. Neither he nor his wife had any ambition for society distinction. They gave no great balls and rarely were they present at “society events.” They had none of the vulgar traits of the parvenu or prejudices of the aristocrat. When his son wished to marry an actress Mr. Gould interposed no objection, and even approved the choice, declaring his pleasure that his son had selected a respectable woman who was able to earn her own living. Perhaps his devotion to his family was due in part to the fact that his public career placed him apart from other men and made him an object of fear and hatred. He was an exile from the sympathies of his fellowmen. But he uttered no complaint, and found in his family full solace for any loss of friendships he may have incurred. The members of his family were his only intimate friends.

Mr. Gould was never a robust person. He was below medium height, thin, nervous and reticent. His hair, beard and eyes were jet black. He was fastidious in dress, and never approached the gaucheries that marked and marred his lieutenant, Fisk. Gould was all brain and nerve, Fisk all drive and muscle. Although quiet, imperturbable and indisposed to confidences, Mr. Gould’s expression was by no means unpleasant. On the contrary he was, in a sense, companionable. He was extremely fond of home comforts and never permitted business to interfere with his two o’clock dinner or his afternoon drive. In manner he was kind and gentle. Never averse to give an opinion, unless it interfered with a plan, he was careful not to obtrude one. He was not accessible to strangers for obvious reasons, but his family and friends testify to the unvarying courtesy of his manner and the rare beauty of his temper. He was always more or less troubled with sleeplessness and often paced the floor, tearing letters or papers to bits, as he thought out schemes for making money. Making money was his passion. He was not ostentatious in living and spent comparatively little. He rarely put his name on subscription papers and, justly or not, he did not enjoy the reputation of liberality. He was often seen in the park with his wife, his son or driver, and invariably looked straight ahead. He ate moderately and never drank wine save at dinner. Now and then he attended the opera, and in the days of Sweeny and Tweed would occasionally join them in the recesses of a private box. Mr. Gould was not exactly a selfish man. He was too intelligent to hate and too unsympathetic to love very strongly. He produced the impression of extreme intellectuality; indeed, leaving out the affectionate element, he was feminine in nature, with marked intuitive perceptions.

Slight of stature and frame, and feeble in body, with a high-strung, nervous organization, a rebellious stomach and flesh-plagued with the neuralgia—such was Mr. Gould as he appeared in the later years of his life. His deceit and far-reaching were the result, largely, of his frailty and timidity. In appearance what a meek, mild-looking man he was! Strangers to whom he was pointed out would exclaim: “What, that Jay Gould! Well, I never would have thought it.” About five feet six inches in height and of slender figure, he was not an imposing personage. His complexion was swarthy, his eyes dark and piercing; his closely-trimmed whiskers black and streaked with gray; his forehead dome-shaped and his hair rather thin—such was Jay Gould. His voice was very low and mild. When a witness in courts and before committees, as he frequently was, it was with the greatest difficulty that he could be heard. But when once in close contact with him one soon came under the spell of his intellect. His comprehension was wide, his intuition wonderful, his judgment almost unerring. He was a close student when once he took up a subject. He never ceased until he had thoroughly mastered it in every detail. This was the secret of his success. Henry Ward Beecher once defined genius as the power and willingness to work long and hard, and under this definition Mr. Gould was a man of genius. Though not by any means wholly bad, he was a dangerous man. His life was a menace to his country. His successes were demoralizing to the young. He looked like a premium on dishonesty, a reversal of the old adage that “honesty is the best policy.”