Secrets of Hallstead House (14 page)

We passed by a boat. Two elderly men sat dangling their fishing poles in the water. Pete waved. They looked up at us and waved back, smiling.

“That’s part of what I love about this place,” he said.

“What?”

“Even perfect strangers become familiar out on the water. Do strangers in the big city wave to you?”

“Not usually,” I responded dryly.

“It’s just part of the culture here.”

“Do you fish?” I asked.

“All self-respecting river rats fish,” Pete answered with a wide smile.

“What’s a river rat?”

“It’s a term used to describe people from the river. It was originally meant to be derogatory and some people think it’s offensive, but I’m proud to be one.”

“I can see that.”

“The fishing-guide business got started in these islands when a
New York Times
reporter came up here and wrote about his fishing excursions. More and more people started coming to fish. Every guide has a secret fishing spot, and you can catch anything from perch to muskie.”

I nodded, without the faintest idea of what a muskie was.

“That’s a big fish,” he said, as if having read my mind. “Usually fishing guides bring their customers out here and they fish all day and then everyone gets treated to a shore dinner at night.”

“What’s a shore dinner?”

“The traditional shore dinner has three specialties, besides the fish. Boiled coffee, a BLT made with rendered fatback melted over the fire, for deep-frying the fish, and Thousand Islands Guide French toast.”

I made a face. “It sounds awful.”

“There’s nothing better. The French toast is the best part. The guide deep-fries bread real quickly then serves it with heavy cream, maple syrup, and a shot of bourbon. We’ll have to make sure you have a shore dinner sometime.”

“I’ll try anything once.”

We rode in silence for several minutes, enjoying the view. It wasn’t long before Pete pointed to an island in the distance.

“There’s Heart Island,” he said proudly.

I sat up a little straighter in my seat and craned my neck to get my first glimpse of the island I’d been waiting all morning to see.

I saw the scarlet-roofed towers first. Several of them stood above the line of trees, regal and lofty. On many of them I could see ornate spires stretching skyward, and as the boat drew closer, I could see turrets and chimneys protruding from the gracefully steep rooflines.

“What am I looking at?” I asked in wonder.

“You’re looking at Boldt Castle. That’s what we came to see.”

Pete slowed the boat considerably as we approached the island. As we rounded the end of Heart Island and slipped out of the channel, I could better see the magnificent form of the imposing castle above me. Surrounded by sloping lawns and manicured formal gardens, the castle, made of stone and standing several stories tall, was the very picture of grandeur. Its many windows glinted in the morning sunlight.

As the boat continued around the island, I took my eyes off the castle long enough to notice that there were several smaller buildings as well. Just like the castle, each one was a work of art, and I couldn’t wait to get out of the boat and go exploring.

Pete pulled the boat up to a long dock along one side of the island and hopped out. While he secured the boat, I got out and stood on the dock to wait for him. There was one other boat tied up at the dock, but I didn’t see anyone else around.

Pete stood up and nodded toward the other boat. “That’s Emery’s boat,” he stated. “Emery is the caretaker. He should be here to meet us any minute.”

“Tell me about this place,” I urged him.

He laughed. “I know the basics of the story of this island and the castle, but Emery knows everything. Plus, he’s a much better storyteller than I am. I’d wait for him if I were you.”

He beckoned me to one end of the dock and pointed across the water to where a huge, beautiful boathouse stood. Its enormous doors were closed. “That boathouse goes with this island. The man who had this castle built kept lots of boats over there.”

Just then we heard footsteps behind us. A tall, thin man was walking toward us, smiling. When he reached us, he extended his hand to Pete.

“Good to see you, Pete. How’ve you been?”

“Great, Emery, thanks. I’d like you to meet Macy Stoddard, Alex’s new nurse. Alex wanted me to bring Macy over here today and show her one of the river’s greatest treasures.”

Emery turned toward me and shook my hand. “Glad you could visit, Macy. I think you’ll like Boldt Castle.”

I grinned. “I like what I’ve seen so far,” I told him eagerly.

“How’s Alex doing?” Emery asked us.

Pete answered first. “She’s doing all right. It’s slow going, though, after hip surgery.” He nodded at me. “Macy is the best person to ask.”

I spoke up. “Alex is remarkable. She’s recovering nicely, considering her age and the surgery she had. I think she wishes she were getting better even more quickly, but she amazes me with her drive.”

“Alex is remarkable, no doubt about that,” Emery agreed affably. “Tell her I’ve been thinking about her and wishing her well.”

I smiled at him. “I’ll do that.”

“Shall we have a look around?” Emery asked.

Pete nodded, smiling, and answered, “I told Macy that you’re the storyteller around here, and I think she’s anxious to hear about Boldt Castle.”

“I am,” I agreed.

Along one side of the dock was a low, narrow, rustic building with several doors. Signs indicated what could be found behind each door: an office, a ticket booth, a snack stand, and a gift shop. Emery led the way through the small office, nodding to the ticket booth nearby. “We’re closed this time of year, but during the high season we get quite a few folks through here to see the place.” We exited the office and walked up a sloping sidewalk toward the immense castle.

“First let me tell you a little about Heart Island,” Emery began. “It wasn’t always called Heart Island, you know. It used to be known as Hemlock Island until it was sold to a Mr. Hart in 1871. He then renamed it ‘H-A-R-T’ Island. The island changed hands yet again before being sold to the Boldts, but its name remained the same. When Mr. Boldt became the owner, he brought in materials to change the physical shape of the island to vaguely resemble a heart. He then changed the spelling to ‘H-E-A-R-T’ Island, a name which obviously has stood the test of time. I’ll tell you more about the Boldts very soon.

“When Mr. Hart owned the island, he had a beautiful summer home built here. It still stood on the island when it was sold to the Boldts.” Emery turned to me. “What do you think happened to the house?”

“Did it burn down?” I guessed.

“Nope. Believe it or not, in the dead of winter in 1899, when the river was frozen solid, the house was slid across the ice to Wellesley Island, where it was re-designed and used for many years as a golf clubhouse.”

“I didn’t know that,” Pete remarked in amazement.

“True story,” Emery said.

“So what happened when the Boldts bought the property?” I asked.

“The story of what happened to this island once the Boldts became her owners is one of the greatest love stories ever told,” Emery answered.

“George C. Boldt was a Prussian-born immigrant who worked very hard to eventually become an important figure in New York City around the turn of the twentieth century. He managed the most luxurious hotel of the age, the Waldorf-Astoria. He also managed a grand hotel in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, and was a trustee of a world-class university, among other accomplishments.

“But none of these accomplishments and achievements was as important to him as was his wife, Louise. And the story of Boldt Castle is the story of his love for her.” Emery concluded his introduction of Boldt Castle just as we approached the sweeping stone veranda and climbed its wide, semicircular steps. At the top of the steps, Emery paused and looked back toward the property we had just traversed. Here and there across the lawn were small patches of rich green, undoubtedly the summertime color of the grass on the island. Statuary dotted the gardens, inviting wanderers to enjoy the view that the statues gazed upon always. It was a breathtaking scene, but I was eager to see the inside of the castle.

And I wasn’t disappointed. We walked through the large wooden doors inlaid with leaded glass and into a gilded and marble space, which could only be called a great hall, rather than simply a foyer. Portraits hung on the walls in heavy scrollwork frames, and the space was lit by a magnificent glittering chandelier. On each side of us were rooms with exquisite furniture and grand fireplaces, and in front of us was a gorgeous staircase that separated at a landing and led upstairs to the left and the right. I could picture barons and baronesses descending the staircase in their coattails and ball gowns.

Emery preceded us into a large dining room with the biggest table I had ever seen, set with china and crystal and bowls of flowers as though a banquet were to begin at any moment. Wandering over to the large window at one end of the room, I was treated to a sweeping view of the grounds and the river. I returned to Pete and Emery as Emery continued his story.

“As I mentioned before, George Boldt was an immigrant from Prussia. He was born of poor parents and he had little when he came to this country. He started working in a hotel kitchen when he was thirteen and that’s how he got started in the hotel industry. He worked his way up. He eventually made lots of money, enough to purchase this island and begin construction on the castle.

“When George bought Hart Island, his idea was to build a Rhineland castle right here on the St. Lawrence River, reminiscent of the castles of his youth. He wanted to build the castle as a testament to the love he felt for his wife, Louise. It was going to be a Valentine’s Day gift.”

A sigh escaped my lips.

“Construction began on the castle around 1900. It was to have six stories rising from the foundation level, an indoor swimming pool, one hundred and twenty rooms, an elevator, tunnels for the servants, a power house and clock tower, Italian gardens, a drawbridge, a dovecote, and a playhouse for the children and their guests, among other things. It took countless man-hours and unnumbered tons of materials to build the castle of Boldt’s imagination. During construction, the Boldt family stayed on the island when they were on vacation from the city. They stayed in Alster Tower, which was to become the playhouse after the castle was completed.

“But in January of 1904, just when construction was nearing completion, Louise Boldt died suddenly. It is generally accepted that she died of heart trouble. George Boldt had lost the love of his life. He couldn’t imagine Louise’s castle without her mistress, so he sent a telegram to Heart Island with just three words on it: ‘Stop all construction. ’

“The three hundred men who had been working put down their tools and left the castle behind. George Boldt never set foot on Heart Island again. In fact, he was so brokenhearted that he made his children promise that they, too, would never again set foot on the island, and they kept that promise. Over the decades following the death of Louise Boldt, the castle and grounds fell into a very sad state of disrepair from weather and vandals. It was only after seventy-three years that the Thousand Islands Bridge Authority acquired the island and its castle and decided to restore it to its former intended glory.

“And that,” concluded Emery, “is the story of the castle and its beginnings. Quite a tale, isn’t it? Of course, the restoration has taken years, and as you’ll see when you head upstairs, it will take many more before it’s complete. But the first floor is done, and it’s beautiful, isn’t it? You’ll find displays down here of the Boldts and the Thousand Islands area. Why don’t you two spend some time wandering around? Feel free to go upstairs and to look around at the other buildings, too. I’ve got some paperwork to do back in the office, but I’ll find you later.”

Emery left us then, and we headed upstairs to see the rest of the castle. I tried to imagine as we walked around what the rooms would have looked like if Louise Boldt had ever had the chance to furnish them. They would have been magnificent! I wondered aloud to Pete if he would be around to see the completed castle.

“I’m not sure how long the restoration is supposed to take,” he answered. “But I’d love to see the finished product someday.”

We continued walking up the large staircases to visit the rooms on the ascending floors. At the top was a beautiful stained-glass dome skylight comprised of hundreds of pieces of colored glass in a huge oval shape. It was a spectacular, dazzling piece of architecture that suited the castle perfectly.

In one room at the top of the castle was a door leading to a large veranda outside. We stepped out onto the balcony for a bird’s-eye view of the island and this part of the castle. What an amazing sight! We could see miles of the majestic river. Close by, we saw a few boats traveling on the chilly water and the islands surrounding Heart Island. Eventually, the wind at this height became so strong that we reluctantly went back indoors.

“I’m starving! Are you ready for lunch?” Pete asked as we descended the stairs to the first floor.

I waited in one of the gardens while Pete headed down to the boat to get the basket with our lunch. When he returned, we ate in the garden on a lovely stone bench that faced several small trees and topiaries. Although there was still a chill in the air, we were both dressed warmly. The lunch was delicious and it was nice to sit outdoors admiring the scenery surrounding the castle. It was
almost
enough to allow me to forget for a while the troubles that I had left behind at Summerplace. But not quite. I sat thinking in silence.

“Anything wrong, or are you just imagining yourself as Louise Boldt?” Pete teased.

I smiled at him. “As amazing as this castle is, I don’t think I could live here. It’s almost too grand. I guess my tastes run to the simpler things. It’s fun to just come here and imagine what it could have been like if the castle had ever been finished and given to Louise. I think that to feel comfortable in opulence like this a person has to be used to it. And I’m certainly not used to it!”