With the sharp stench of coal smoke and dead leaves strewn across the cobblestones the October wind blew through the Bowerys windswept streets. In 1847 New York was a city of contrasts with the glare of gas lamps futilely trying to drive back the darkness of the empty alleys. With her thin fingers feeling for warmth in the tattered fabric twenty-year-old Eleanor Blake pulled her wool shawl tighter around her fragile shoulders. Despite everyones advice she chose to walk home alone after leaving a fun party at the Harpers a family of longtime friends. An internal conflict had caused her to decline her hostesss offer of a carriage ride home despite the pleasant evening being interspersed with light conversation and laughter around an unplaying piano. She desired to walk to experience the cool air on her face and to briefly escape the oppressive norms of her world. A little rain that had stopped moments earlier had made the cobblestones slick reflecting the flickering light of the oil lam
Last Updated : 2025-03-13 Read more