E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Dave Macfarlane,
and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team
GREAT FORTUNES,
AND
HOW THEY WERE MADE;
OR THE
Struggles and Triumphs of our Self-Made Men.
BY
JAMES D. McCABE, Jr.,
AUTHOR OF "PLANTING THE WILDERNESS," ETC., ETC.
Numerous Illustrations,
FROM ORIGINAL DESIGNS BY G.F. & E.B. BENSELL.
"Man, it is not thy works, which are mortal, infinitely little, and the greatest no greater than the least, but only the spirit thou workest in, that can have worth or continuance."—Carlyle.
GEORGE MACLEAN,
PHILADELPHIA, NEW YORK AND BOSTON.
1871.
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by
E. HANNAFORD & CO.,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D.C.
ELECTROTYPED AT THE FRANKLIN TYPE FOUNDRY, CINCINNATI.
"The physical industries of this world have two relations in them: one to the actor, and one to the public. Honest business is more really a contribution to the public than it is to the manager of the business himself. Although it seems to the man, and generally to the community, that the active business man is a self-seeker, and although his motive may be self-aggrandizement, yet, in point of fact, no man ever manages a legitimate business in this life, that he is not doing a thousand-fold more for other men than he is trying to do even for himself. For, in the economy of God's providence, every right and well organized business is a beneficence and not a selfishness. And not less is it so because the merchant, the mechanic, the publisher, the artist, think merely of their profit. They are in fact working more for others than they are for themselves."
HENRY WARD BEECHER.
PREFACE.
The chief glory of America is, that it is the country in which genius and industry find their speediest and surest reward. Fame and fortune are here open to all who are willing to work for them. Neither class distinctions nor social prejudices, neither differences of birth, religion, nor ideas, can prevent the man of true merit from winning the just reward of his labors in this favored land. We are emphatically a nation of self-made men, and it is to the labors of this worthy class that our marvelous national prosperity is due.
This being the case, it is but natural that there should be manifested by our people a very decided desire to know the history of those who have risen to the front rank of their respective callings. Men are naturally cheered and encouraged by the success of others, and those who are worthy of a similar reward will not fail to learn valuable lessons from the examples of the men who have preceded them.
With the hope of gratifying this laudable desire for information, and encouraging those who are still struggling in the lists of fame and fortune, I offer this book to the reader. I have sought to tell simply and truthfully the story of the trials and triumphs of our self-made men, to show how they overcame where others failed, and to offer the record of their lives as models worthy of the imitation of the young men of our country. No one can hope to succeed in life merely by the force of his own genius, any more than he can hope to live without exerting some degree of influence for good or evil upon the community in which his lot is cast. Success in life is not the effect of accident or of chance: it is the result of the intelligent application of certain fixed principles to the affairs of every day. Each man must make this application according to the circumstances by which he is surrounded, and he can derive no greater assistance or encouragement in this undertaking than by informing himself how other men of acknowledged merit have succeeded in the same departments of the world's industry. That this is true is shown by the fact that many of the most eminent men attribute their great achievements to the encouragement with which the perusal of the biographies of others inspired them at critical periods of their careers. It is believed that the narrations embraced in these pages afford ample instruction and entertainment to the young, as well as food for earnest reflection on the part of those who are safely advanced upon their pathway to success, and that they will prove interesting to all classes of intelligent readers.
Some explanation is due to the reader respecting the title that has been chosen for the work. The term "Great Fortunes" is not used here to designate pecuniary success exclusively. A few of the men whose lives are herein recorded never amassed great wealth. Yet they achieved the highest success in their vocations, and their lives are so full of interest and instruction that this work must have been incomplete and unsatisfactory had they been passed over in silence. The aim of the writer has been to present the histories of those who have won the highest fame and achieved the greatest good in their respective callings, whether that success has brought them riches or not, and above all, of those whose labors have not only opened the way to fortune for themselves, but also for others, and have thus conferred lasting benefits upon their country.
In short, I have sought to make this work the story of the Genius of America, believing as I do that he whose achievements have contributed to the increase of the national wealth, the development of the national resources, and the elevation of the national character, though he himself be poor in purse, has indeed won a great fortune, of which no reverse can ever deprive him.
J.D. McC., Jr.
New York, 24th October, 1870.
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
[Consternation At Sight Of Fulton's Monster. Frontispiece.]
[Peabody Paying For A Night's Lodging]
[Portrait Of Cornelius Vanderbilt]
[Vanderbilt Earning His First Hundred Dollars]
[Vanderbilt Carrying Off The Sheriff]
["The Madhouse Is The Proper Place For Him"]
[Whitney Watching The First Cotton-Gin]
[Howe's First Idea Of The Sewing-Machine]
[The Boy Colt Inventing The Revolver]
[Portrait Of Samuel F.B. Morse]
[How The New York Herald Began]
[Marshall's Defence Of Christianity]
["They Are Going To Hang My Brother; You Can Save Him!"]
[The Truant's Secret Discovered]
[Powers' Distrust Of The Hunters]
[Filial Devotion Shapes A Great Career]
[Cartwright Calling Up The Devil]
[Portrait Of Nathaniel Hawthorne]
[Jefferson, As Rip Van Winkle]
[Prescribing At The Breakfast-Table]
["President Lincoln Has Been Murdered!"]
CONTENTS.
[I. MERCHANTS.]
[CHAPTER I.]
STEPHEN GIRARD.
The fog in the Delaware—News of the war—Alarm of the French skipper—A narrow escape from capture—Arrival of Girard in Philadelphia—Early history of Stephen Girard—An unhappy childhood—Goes to sea—Is licensed to command—Becomes a trader in Philadelphia—Marries Mary Lum—Unfortunate issue of the marriage—Capture of Philadelphia by the British—Early commercial life of Stephen Girard—How he earned his first money, and the use he made of it—Aid from St. Domingo—His rigid attention to business—Thoroughness of his knowledge—One of his letters of instructions—His subordinates required to obey orders though they ruin him—Anecdote of Girard and one of his captains—His promptness and fidelity in business—He never breaks his word—How he lost five hundred dollars—Buys the old Bank of the United States and becomes a banker—Cuts down the salaries of his clerks—Refuses his watchman an overcoat—Indifference to his employés—Contrast between his personal and business habits—His liberality in financial operations—He subscribes for the entire Government loan in 1814, and enables the United States to carry on the war—His generosity toward the Government—The suspension of specie payments—Financial troubles—How Girard saved his own notes—His public spirit—How he made half a million of dollars on a captured ship—Personal characteristics—Why he valued money—His ambition—His infidelity—Causes of the defects of his character—A favorable view—Heroic conduct of Stephen Girard during the prevalence of the yellow fever in Philadelphia—The Good Samaritan—He practices medicine, and congratulates himself that he has killed none of his patients—His industry—Visit of Mr. Baring to Mr. Girard—A curious reception—Failing health and death of Stephen Girard—His will—His noble bequests—Establishment of Girard College.
[CHAPTER II.]
JOHN JACOB ASTOR.
Legitimate business the field of success—Reasons for claiming Astor as an American—Birth and early life—Religious training—The village of Waldorf—Poverty—The jolly butcher—Young Astor's repugnance to his father's trade—Unhappy at home—Loses his mother—His desire to emigrate to the "New Land"—Leaves home—His voyage down the Rhine—Reaches London and enters the service of his brother—His efforts to prepare for emigration—Learns to speak English—Peace between the United States and Great Britain—The road to the "New Land" open—Astor sets out for America—His first ventures in commerce—The voyage—How he proposed to save his Sunday clothes—Arrival in the Chesapeake—The ice-blockade—Astor makes a friend—The fur trader's story—Astor sees the way to fortune—Reaches New York—His first situation—Learning the business—His method of proceeding—An example to young men—His capacity for business operations—He is promoted—His journeys to Canada, and their results—Sets up in business for himself—The fur trade of North America—A survey of the field of Astor's operations—His capital—His tramps into the wilderness in search of furs—Predictions as to the future settlement of the country—His first consignment to England—His marriage—A good wife—Improvement in his prospects—Buys his first ship—The secret of his success—Close attention to business—His economical habits—His indorsement disputed by a bank clerk—Statements of the profits on furs—He engages in the Chinese trade—How the Government aided the early China traders—Amount made by Astor in his legitimate business—His real estate operations—His foresight and courage—How eight thousand dollars yielded eighty thousand—His real estate in the City of New York—Purchases the half of Putnam County—The Roger and Mary Morris estate controversy—Astor wins his suit, and makes half a million of dollars—Astor's scheme of colonization—A grand enterprise—Settlement of Astoria—Betrayed by his agents, and the scheme brought to failure—Astor withdraws from active business—His boyhood's vow and its fulfillment—Builds the Astor House—His voyage to Europe—The return—The troubles of a millionaire—The great man seasick—A curious draft—The last years of his life—His fondness for literary men—His death and burial—His will—Opposite views of his character—How his refusal to buy a chronometer cost him seventy thousand dollars—He remembers an old friend—His gift of a lease—His humor—"William has a rich father."
[CHAPTER III.]
ALEXANDER T. STEWART.
Birth and early life—Becomes his grandfather's ward—Designed for the ministry—A change in his plans—Comes to America—Teaches school in New York—Becomes a dry goods merchant—Receives a legacy—His first importation—How he began business—An energetic trader—His sample lots and their history—Success of his enterprise—He begins by encouraging honesty in trade—Wins a name for reliability—The system of selling at one price—Inaugurates the "selling off at cost" feature—His courage in business—How he raised the money to meet his note—Improvement in his business—He enlarges his store—As an inducement to the ladies, employs for clerks handsome young men—The crisis of 1837—Stewart comes out of it a rich man—How he did so—Builds his lower store—Predictions of failure—The result—Compels the Government to purchase goods from him—His foresight and liberality—Charged with superstition—Lucky and unlucky persons—Story of the old apple woman—Remarks at the opening of the St. Nicholas Hotel—Reasons of Stewart's success—A hard worker—How he receives visitors—Running the gauntlet—How he gets rid of troublesome persons—Estimate of Mr. Stewart's real estate in New York—His new residence—His benevolence—Aid for Ireland, and free passages to America—Home for women—Political sentiments—Mr. Stewart's appointment as Secretary of the Treasury—Feeling of the country—The retail store of A.T. Stewart & Co.—A palace of glass and iron—Internal arrangements—The managers and salesmen—List of sales—Wages given—Visitors—The principal salesroom—The parcel department—The wagons and stables—Extravagant purchases—Mr. Stewart's supervision of the upper store—The system of buying—The foreign agencies—Statement of the duties paid each day—Personal appearance of Mr. Stewart.
[CHAPTER IV.]
AMOS LAWRENCE.
The Lawrence family—A poor boy—Early education—Delicate health—Obtains a situation at Dunstable—Returns to Groton—Becomes Mr. Brazer's apprentice—The variety store—An amateur doctor—Importance of Groton in "old times"—Responsibility of young Lawrence—Is put in charge of the business—High character—Drunkenness the curse of New England—Lawrence resolves to abstain from liquors and tobacco—His self-command—Completes his apprenticeship—Visits Boston—An unexpected offer—Enters into business in Boston—Is offered a partnership, but declines it—His sagacity justified—Begins business for himself—Commercial importance of Boston—Aid from his father—A narrow escape—lesson for life—Amos Lawrence's method of doing business—-An example for young men—His business habits—He leaves nothing unfinished over Sunday—Avoids speculation—His views upon the subject—Introduces double entry in book-keeping into Boston—His liberality to his debtors—Does not allow his business to master him—Property gained by some kinds of sacrifices not worth having—Forms a partnership with his brother Abbott—Business of the firm—They engage in manufactures—Safe business principles—A noble letter—Political opinions—His charities—Statement of his donations—Requests that no public acknowledgment of his gifts be made—Character as a merchant and a man—Advice to his son—His religious character—Loss of his health—His patience and resignation—The model American merchant.
[CHAPTER V.]
ANDREW V. STOUT.
Early struggles—Acquires an education—Undertakes the support of his family—The boy teacher—Hard work—Is made instructor of Latin—A trying position—How he conquered his difficulties—Is made principal of a public school—His first business ventures—Engages in the building of houses—His platform of integrity—His success—A great mistake—He indorses a note—The consequence of a false step—Liberal action of the bank—Mr. Stout resolves to accept no accommodation—Pays the notes, and loses twenty-three thousand dollars—Establishes himself as a wholesale boot and shoe dealer—Enters the dry goods trade—Close attention to business—His system and its success—Organization of the Shoe and Leather Bank of New York—Mr. Stout is made Vice President, and subsequently President—Character as a citizen—Is made City Chamberlain—Generosity to the police force—Interest in church affairs—Kindness to the poor—Encouragement which his career affords others.
[CHAPTER VI.]
JONAS CHICKERING.
The largest building in the United States—The Chickering piano factory—Birth of Jonas Chickering—Early love of music—Is apprenticed to a cabinet-maker—Is employed to repair a piano—Succeeds in the undertaking—Consequence of this success—Becomes a piano-maker—Removes to Boston—Is employed as a journeyman—The labor of his life—His patience and skill—Is known as the best workman in the establishment—History of the piano—Chickering's first discovery—His hope of success based on intelligence—Becomes a master of the theory of sound—His studies and their result—Makes an improvement in the framing of pianos—Invents the circular scale for square pianos—Generously makes his invention free—A noble gift to the world—His business operations—Increase in the demand for his instruments—Death of Captain Mackay—Mr. Chickering undertakes the sole charge of his affairs—Fears of his friends—Magnitude of the business—The lawyer's question answered—The mortgages paid—Rapid success of Mr. Chickering—His varied duties—Sharp competition—A bogus Chickering—How a Boston bank lost his custom—His independence in business—His character as a merchant—Trains his sons to succeed him in business—The result of his efforts—The present house of Chickering & Sons—Destruction of the factory—Offers of aid—Mr. Chickering's kindness to his workmen—Sets to work to re-establish his business—The new factory begun—Sudden death of Mr. Chickering.
[CHAPTER VII.]
NICHOLAS LONGWORTH.
The grape interest of the United States—Growing demand for American wines—Instrumentality of Mr. Longworth in producing this success—Early life of Mr. Longworth—Apprenticed to a shoemaker—Removes to South Carolina—Returns to Newark and studies law—Removes to Cincinnati—Admitted to the bar—His first case—Is paid in whisky stills, and trades them for lands which make his fortune—Rapid growth of Cincinnati—The oldest native inhabitant of Chicago—Longworth's investments in real estate—Immense profits realized by him—His experiments in wine growing—History of the Catawba grape—Longworth decides to cultivate it entirely—His efforts to promote the grape culture in the Ohio Valley—Offers a market for all the grape juice that can be brought to him—The result of his labors seen in the Ohio vineyards of to-day—His wine cellars—Amount of wine made annually by him—The process used—How "Sparkling Catawba" is made—Longworth's experiments with strawberries—His liberality—Gift of land to the Observatory—His challenge to a grumbler—Estimate of his character—His eccentricities—His generosity to his tenants—How he made money by helping others to grow rich—His politics—How he subscribed one hundred dollars to elect Clay—His hatred of vagabondage—His stone quarry—How he provided it with laborers—His system of helping the poor—Is charged with stinginess—The "devil's poor"—Personal appearance—The "Hard-times" overcoat—Charity to a millionaire—Death of Mr. Longworth.
[CHAPTER VIII.]
GEORGE PEABODY.
Birth and parentage—Early education—His first lessons in business—An apprentice in a country store—Youthful ambition—A desire for change—The visit to Post Mills—Removal to Newburyport—Reasons for his attachment to that place—His first patron—Peabody goes south—A soldier in the War of 1812-15—A young merchant—A change of prospects—A partner in the house of Riggs & Peabody—Peabody's business capacity—An irregular banker—His reputation as a business man—Promising opening of a brilliant career—Retirement of Mr. Riggs—Growth of the business—A branch house in London—Mr. Peabody saves the credit of the State of Maryland—Tribute from Edward Everett—Success in London—A model American merchant—Establishment of the house of George Peabody & Co.—The Fourth of July dinner—The exhibition of 1851—Patriotism of Mr. Peabody—How he saved the United States from humiliation—Admission of the "London Times"—Mr. Peabody's business habits—His economy—Adventure with a conductor—Finds a conscientious hackman—Personal simplicity—Visits to the United States—His munificent donations—His last visit—Returns to London and dies—Honors paid to his memory—The funeral ceremonies—His burial at Peabody—Statement of his donations and bequests—His example encouraging to the young.
[II. CAPITALISTS.]
[CHAPTER IX.]
CORNELIUS VANDERBILT.
Staten Island seventy-six years ago—The establishment of the Staten Island ferry—Birth of Cornelius Vanderbilt—His boyhood—Defective education—A famous rider—His early reputation for firmness—Superintends the removal of a ship's cargo at the age of twelve—How he pawned a horse—Becomes a boatman—How he bought his boat—A disastrous voyage—His life as a boatman—His economy and industry—Earns three thousand dollars—The alarm at Fort Richmond—Vanderbilt's perilous voyage for aid for the forts—His marriage—His first contract—How he supplied the harbor defenses—Builds his first schooner—His winter voyages—Becomes a steamboat captain—His foresight—Leases the hotel at New Brunswick—The dangers of navigating the New York waters—The steamboat war—How Captain Vanderbilt eluded the sheriff—Becomes manager of the steamboat line—Declines an increase of salary—Only wants to carry his point—Refuses to buy Mr. Gibbons's interest in the steamboat company, and builds his own boat—Narrow escape from ruin—Final triumph—Systematic management of his vessels—How he ruined the "Collins Line"—The "North Star"—Becomes a railroad director—How he foiled a plan to ruin him—dishonest legislature—Vanderbilt's triumph—His gift to the Government—His office in New York—Vanderbilt in business hours—Personal characteristics—Love for horses—His family.
[CHAPTER X.]
DANIEL DREW.
Birth-place—Birth and parentage—A farmer's boy—Goes to New York to seek his fortune—Becomes a cattle drover—Leases the Bull's Head Tavern—His energy and success in his business—Brings the first western cattle to New York—Helps a friend to build a steamboat—The fight with Vanderbilt—Drew buys out his friend, and becomes a steamboat owner—Vanderbilt endeavors to discourage him—He perseveres—His success—Formation of the "People's Line" on the Hudson River—The floating palaces—Forms a partnership with George Law, and establishes the Stonington line—Opening of the Hudson River Railway—Drew's foresight—Room enough for the locomotive and the steamboat—Buys out the Champlain Company—Causes of his success as a steamboat manager—Becomes a banker—His success in Wall Street—Indorses the acceptances of the Erie Railway Company—His courage and calmness in the panic of 1857—He saves "Erie" from ruin—Elected a director of the Erie Road—Is made Treasurer—His interest in the road—His operations in Wall Street—His farm in Putnam County—Joins the Methodist Church—His liberality—Builds a church in New York—Founds the Drew Theological Seminary—Estimate of his wealth—His family—Personal appearance.
[CHAPTER XI.]
JAMES B. EADS.
Birth—Childhood—Fondness for machinery—Early mechanical skill—Constructs a steam engine at the age of nine years—His work-shop—Death of his father—Works his way to St. Louis—Sells apples on the streets—Finds employment and a friend—Efforts to improve—Becomes a clerk on a Mississippi steamer—Undertakes the recovery of wrecked steamboats—Success of his undertaking—Offers to remove the obstacles to the navigation of the Mississippi—Failure of his health—Retires from business—Breaking out of the war—Summoned to Washington—His plan for the defense of the western rivers—Associated with Captain Rodgers in the purchase of gunboats—His first contract with the Government—Undertakes to build seven ironclads in sixty-five days—Magnitude of the undertaking—His promptness—Builds other gunboats during the war—The gunboat fleet at Forts Henry and Donelson the private property of Mr. Eads—Excellence of the vessels built by him—A model contractor—Residence in St. Louis.
[CHAPTER XII.]
CYRUS W. FIELD.
Birth—Parentage—Early education—Goes to New York in search of employment—Obtains a clerkship in a city house, and in a few years becomes a partner—A rich man at thirty-four—Retires from business—Travels in South America—Meets Mr. Gisborne—Plan of the Newfoundland Telegraph Company—Mr. Field declines to embark in it—Conceives the idea of a telegraph across the Atlantic Ocean—Correspondence with Lieut. Maury and Prof. Morse—The scheme pronounced practicable—Mr. Field secures the co-operation of four New York capitalists—Organization of the New York, Newfoundland, and London Telegraph Company—Building of the line from New York to St. John's—A herculean task—The Governmental ocean surveys of the United States and England—Efforts to secure aid in England—Liberal action of the Government—Organization of the Atlantic Telegraph Company—A hard-won success in America—Passage of the bill by Congress—The first attempt to lay the cable—The expedition of 1857—The telegraph fleet—Scenes on board—Loss of the cable—Failure of the expedition—Difficulties remedied—The new "paying-out" machinery—The expedition of 1858—The second attempt to lay the cable—Dangerous storm—Failures—Loss of the cable—The third attempt—The cable laid successfully—Messages across the Atlantic—Celebrations in England and the United States—The signals cease—The cable a failure—Discouraging state of affairs—Courage of Mr. Field—Generous offer of the British Government—Fresh soundings—Investigations of the Telegraph Board—Efforts of Mr. Field to raise new capital—Purchase of the Great Eastern—The fourth attempt to lay the cable—Expedition of 1865—Voyage of the Great Eastern—Loss of the cable—Efforts to recover it unsuccessful—What the expedition demonstrated—Efforts to raise more capital—They are pronounced illegal—The new company—The fifth attempt to lay the cable—Voyage of the Great Eastern—The cable laid at last—Fishing up and splicing the cable of 1865—The final triumph—Credit due to Mr. Field.
[III. INVENTORS.]
[CHAPTER XIII.]
ROBERT FULTON.
Trinity churchyard—The Livingston vault—An interesting place—Fulton's tomb—Birth of Robert Fulton—Boyhood—Early mechanical skill—Robert astonishes his tutor—Robert's fireworks—"Nothing is impossible"—"Quicksilver Bob"—The fishing excursion—The first paddle-wheel boat—Fulton's success as an artist—His gift to his mother—His removal to England—Intimacy with Benjamin West—Goes to Devonshire—Acquaintance with the Duke of Bridgewater—His interest in canal navigation—His first inventions—Goes to Paris—Residence with Mr. Barlow—Studies in engineering—Invents the diving boat—The infernal machine—His patriotic reply to the British ministry—His marriage—Returns to America—The General Government declines to purchase his torpedo—Brief history of the first experiments in steam navigation—Fulton's connection with Livingston—The trial boat on the Seine—Determines to build a boat on the Hudson—Fulton and Livingston are given the sole right to navigate the waters of New York by steam—Popular ridicule—Disbelief of scientific men—Launch of the "Clermont"—The trial trip—The first voyage up the Hudson—Fulton's triumph—Scenes along the river—Efforts to sink the steamer—Establishment of steam navigation on the Hudson River—The first New York ferry-boats—The floating docks—Boats for the West—New York threatened by the British fleet in 1814—Fulton's plan for a steam frigate—The "Fulton the First"—The steamboat war—Illness of Fulton—His death and burial—His last will—True character of his invention.
[CHAPTER XIV.]
CHARLES GOODYEAR.
Discovery of India-rubber—Mode of collecting it—Preparation and use by the natives—Its introduction into the United States—Mr. E.M. Chaffee's process—The India-rubber fever—Brief success of the India-rubber companies—Their sudden failure—Visit of Mr. Goodyear to New York—He invents an improvement in the life preserver—Early history of Charles Goodyear—His failure as a merchant—Offers his invention to the Roxbury Company—The agent's disclosures—Mr. Goodyear finds his mission—His first efforts—A failure—Discouraging state of his affairs—Renews his efforts—Experiments in India-rubber—Coldness of his friends—His courage and perseverance—Goes to New York—Accidental discovery of the aqua fortis process—Partial success—Ruined—Life on Staten Island—Removes to Boston—Delusive prosperity—The mail bag contract—His friends urge him to abandon his efforts—He refuses—On the verge of success—Discovers the usefulness of sulphur—The inventor's hope—The revelation—Discovers the secret of vulcanization—Down in the depths—Kept back by poverty—A beggar—A test of his honesty—Starvation at hand—The timely loan—Removal to New York—Difficulties in the way—Death of his youngest child—Finds friends in New York—His experiments in vulcanization—Final success—His heart in his work—Fails to secure patents in Europe—His losses from dishonest rivals—Declaration of the Commissioner of Patents—Death of Mr. Goodyear—Congress refuses to extend his patent—His true reward.
[CHAPTER XV.]
ELI WHITNEY.
The home of General Greene in Georgia—The soldier's widow—An arrival from New England—The young schoolmaster—A mechanical genius—Early history of Whitney—Mrs. Greene's invitation—Visit of the planters—State of the cotton culture in 1792—A despondent planter—Mrs. Greene advises them to try Whitney—Origin of the cotton gin—Whitney's first efforts—His workshop—The secret labors—How he provided himself with materials—Finds a partner—Betrayal of his secret—He is robbed of his model—He recovers it and completes it—The first cotton gin—Statement of the revolution produced by the invention in the cotton culture of the South—Opinion of Judge Johnson—The story of an inventor's wrongs—Whitney is cheated and robbed of his rights—The worthlessness of a patent—A long and disheartening struggle—Honorable action of North Carolina—Congress refuses to extend the patent—Whitney abandons the cotton gin—Engages in the manufacture of firearms—His improvements in them—Establishes an armory in Connecticut, and makes a fortune—Death.
[CHAPTER XVI.]
CHAUNCEY JEROME.
The old-fashioned clocks—Their expensiveness—Condition of the clock trade of Connecticut sixty years ago—Early history of Chauncey Jerome—A hard life—Death of his father—Becomes a farmer's boy—Is anxious to become a clock-maker—An over-wise guardian—Hardships of an apprentice—How Jerome became a carpenter—Hires his winters from his master—Becomes a dial-maker—The clock-making expedition—Jerome's first savings—Takes a wife—A master carpenter—Poor pay and hard work—Buys a house—A dull winter—Enters Mr. Terry's factory—The wooden clock business—Sets up in business for himself—Industry and energy rewarded—His first order—Sends his clocks South—Enlarges his business—Improvements in his clocks—Losses on southern shipments from dampness—Depression of business—Jerome's anxiety—A wakeful night—Invention of the brass—A new era in the clock trade—Beneficial effects of Jerome's invention—Magnitude of the Connecticut clock trade at present—Growth of Jerome's business—Makes a fortune—Organization of the "Jerome Clock-making Company"—Practical withdrawal of Mr. Jerome—Difficulties of the company—Jerome a ruined man—Honest independence—Finds employment—Becomes the manager of the Chicago Company.
[CHAPTER XVII.]
ELIAS HOWE, JR.
The first sewing-machine—Birth of Elias Howe—A poor man's son—Raised to hard work—His first employment—The little mill-boy—Delicate health—Goes to Lowell to seek his fortune—Thrown out of employment—Removes to Cambridge—Works in a machine shop with N.P. Banks—Marries—A rash step—Growing troubles—A hard lot—Conceives the idea of a sewing-machine—His first experiments unsuccessful—Invents the lock stitch and perfects the sewing-machine—Hindered by his poverty—A hard struggle—Finds a partner—His winter's task—His attic work-shop—Completion of the model—Perfection of Howe's invention—Efforts to dispose of the invention—Disappointed hopes—Popular incredulity—Becomes an engine driver—Amasa Howe goes to England with the sewing-machine—Bargain with the London merchant—Elias removes to London—Loses his situation—The rigors of poverty—Returns to America—Death of his wife—Fate's last blow—The sewing-machine becomes better known—Adoption by the public—A tardy recognition—Elias Howe sets up in business for himself—Buys out his partner's interest—The sewing-machine war—Rapid growth of the sewing-machine interest—Earnings of the inventor—A royal income—Honors conferred upon him—Enlists in the United States Army—A liberal private—Last illness and death.
[CHAPTER XVIII.]
RICHARD M. HOE.
Growth of the art of printing—Birth of Richard M. Hoe—Sketch of the career of Robert Hoe—He comes to America—His marriage—Founds the house of "Robert Hoe & Co."—The first steam printing presses—He retires from business—Richard M. Hoe is brought up in the business—The mechanical genius of the house—The new firm—Richard Hoe's first invention—Obtains a patent for it—Visits England—Invents the double-cylinder press—Demand for increased facilities for printing—Mr. Hoe's experiments with his press—His failures—How the "Lightning Press" was invented—A good night's work—Patents his invention—The first "Lightning Press"—Demand for it—Rapid growth of the business of the firm—Statement of the operations of the house—Personal characteristics of Richard M. Hoe—The "Lightning Press" at work.
[CHAPTER XIX.]
SAMUEL COLT.
Birth and parentage—A restless boy—Dislikes school—Early fondness for mechanical inventions—Is sent to boarding-school—Runs away to sea—The story of a boy's invention, and what came of it—Origin of the revolver—Returns home—His chemical studies—Dr. Coult—The lecturing tour—His success—Completes his design for the revolver—Patents his invention—Visits England—Discovery at the Tower of London—Returns home—Formation of the "Patent Arms Company"—Objections of the officers of the army and navy to the revolver—The Florida War—It is decided by the revolver—Triumph of Col. Colt—Cessation of the demand for arms—Failure of the company—Beginning of the Mexican War—Action of General Taylor—No revolvers to be had—A strange dilemma for an inventor—The new model—Contracts with the Government—Success of the revolver in Mexico—The demand from the frontier—Emigration to California and Australia—Permanent establishment of Col. Colt's business—The improved weapon—Builds a new armory—Description of his works at Hartford—A liberal employer—Other inventions of Col. Colt—His submarine telegraph—His fortune—His marriage—Visits to Europe—Attentions from European dignitaries—Witnesses the coronation of the Emperor of Russia—His last illness and death.
[CHAPTER XX.]
SAMUEL F.B. MORSE.
Birth—Parentage—Early education—Graduates at Yale College—Becomes an artist—His masters—Visits England—His first attempt—"The Dying Hercules"—Opinion of Benjamin West—Wins the medal of the Adelphi Society of Arts—Ambition as an artist—His cold reception by the Americans—Mr. Tuckerman's comments—Organizes the National Academy of Design—Visits Europe the second time—The homeward voyage in the "Sully"—News of the experiments at Paris with the electro-magnet—How the electric telegraph was invented—Morse is made a professor in the University of New York—Completion of his model—An imperfect telegraph—His first experiments—The duplicate finished—First exhibition of the telegraph—Morse applies for a patent—Visits Europe to introduce his invention—His failure—Seeks aid from Congress—A disheartening effort—A long struggle—Independence of Morse—Despondent at last—A sudden lifting of the cloud—The experimental line—The trial—A curious Cabinet Minister—Success of the telegraph—Establishment of companies in the United States—Professor Morse wins fame and fortune—The telegraph in Europe—Honors at home and abroad—A list of his rewards—Morse originates submarine telegraphy, and predicts the laying of an Atlantic telegraph—Personal characteristics.
[IV. PUBLISHERS.]
[CHAPTER XXI.]
JAMES HARPER.
The Brothers Harper—Birth and parentage of James Harper—The Long Island home—James Harper goes to New York—Becomes a "devil"—Winning his way—How he gave his card to a stranger—Arrival of "Brother John"—-Good habits—Sets up for himself—"J. & J. Harper, Printers"—How they started in business—Integrity rewarded—First job—Their first effort at stereotyping—The Harpers become publishers on their own account—Their early ventures—Feeling their way to success—Their publications—Character of their books—How they drove the "yellow covers" out of the market—Their prosperity—Admission of new partners—The great fire—Destruction of the establishment of Harper & Brothers—Energy of the firm—Re-establishment of their business—Their new premises—Description of the buildings—Personal characteristics of Mr. James Harper—Religious life—Liberality of sentiment—His industry—Elected Mayor of New York—Kindness to his operatives—Physical Vigor—"The Lord knows best"—Accident to Mr. Harper and his daughter—His death.
[CHAPTER XXII.]
JAMES T. FIELDS.
The old "Corner Book-store" in Boston and its associations—Carter & Bendee employ a new clerk—Birth and early life of James T. Fields—His literary talent—Governor Woodbury's advice—Enters mercantile life—Determined to rise—His studies—The result—Associated with Edward Everett at the age of eighteen—His business talent—Steady promotion—Becomes head clerk with Allen & Ticknor—Establishment of the firm of Ticknor & Fields—Success as a publisher—High character of his house—Relations toward authors—Publications of Ticknor & Fields—Removal—Organization of the firm of Fields, Osgood & Co.—The new book-store—An elegant establishment—Mr. Field's literary success—Statement of a friend—"Common Sense"—His contributions to the periodicals of the firm—Travels in Europe—Personal appearance.
[V. EDITORS.]
[CHAPTER XXIII.]
JAMES GORDON BENNETT.
Birth—Intended for the Romish priesthood—How he was induced to come to America—Arrival in Halifax—Comes to the United States—What came of a shilling—Employment in Boston—Reaches New York—Attempts to establish a school—Becomes connected with the press—Success of his Washington letters—Services on the "Courier and Inquirer"—Leaves that journal—Removes to Philadelphia—Establishes "The Pennsylvanian"—Ingratitude of his political associates—Returns to New York—Establishment of "The New York Herald"—Early difficulties of that paper, and how Bennett surmounted them—The first "Herald" office—A determined effort to succeed—First numbers of "The Herald"—How one man carried on a newspaper—A lucky hit—The first "money article"—The office burned down—The great fire—Bennett's reports of the disaster—Success of "The Herald"—His first advertising contract—Increasing prosperity—The journal of to-day—How it is conducted—The new "Herald" office—Bennett's pride in his paper—Personal characteristics—His independence.
[CHAPTER XXIV.]
ROBERT BONNER.
Birth and parentage—Emigration to America—Becomes a printer—A first-class compositor—Engaged upon the "Evening Mirror"—The "Merchant's Ledger"—Bonner purchases the paper, and changes its name to the "New York Ledger"—The new literary journal—Predictions of failure—Bonner confident of success—Engages Fanny Fern to write for him—A handsome price for a story—Wonderful success of the "Ledger"—Skillful advertising—Popularity of the paper—How Bonner silenced the critics—"Edward Everett writes for the 'Ledger'"—How Bonner treats his contributors—"Henry Ward Beecher writes for the 'Ledger'"—Immense circulation of the paper—The new "Ledger" building—Private residence of Mr. Bonner—His stable—His love for horses.
[VI. LAWYERS.]
[CHAPTER XXV.]
JOHN MARSHALL.
The model American lawyer—Birth and early life of John Marshall—A devoted father—Early education—The young patriot—Troubles with England—Marshall becomes a soldier—The "Culpepper Minute Men"—Marshall's popularity in the army—Finishes his law studies—His journey from Williamsburg to Philadelphia—Commences the practice of the law—Elected to the Legislature—Establishes himself in Richmond—The power of a powdered wig and velvet coat—Marshall's services in the Virginia Convention of 1798—Becomes the champion of Washington's Administration—Refuses public honors—Is made Minister to France —Public reception in New York—Elected Member of Congress—His memorable speech—Enters the Cabinet of President Adams as Secretary of State—Is made Chief Justice of the United States—His record—His "Life of Washington"—Personal characteristics—His generosity—William Wirt's pen and ink sketch of him—His courtesy and kindness—Fondness for manly sports—The quoit club—How he carried a proud man's turkey home—The supper party—The Chief Justice loses the wager—Mode of traveling on his circuit—The scene at Maguire's Hotel in Winchester, Virginia—The unknown champion of Christianity—A brilliant defense—Last illness and death of Judge Marshall.
[CHAPTER XXVI.]
JAMES T. BRADY.
Birth and early life—His "big head"—His kindliness of disposition—Enters his father's office to study law—Merry nature—How he studied law—A model for ambitious youths—His father's opinion of him—Admitted to the bar—His first case—The newsboy case—sudden rise in popularity—Practices in the Supreme Court—The India-rubber suit—A compliment from Daniel Webster—Brady's integrity—Professional success and generosity—His readiness in managing his cases—Conduct toward witnesses—His fearlessness—A bold declaration in Tammany Hall—His profound knowledge of his profession—His industry—His disinterested kindness—His humor—Meets his match—Political life—Personal appearance—A genial old bachelor—Literary tastes and labors—His generosity to the poor—Devotion to his relatives—Last appearance in public—Forebodings—Death.
[VII. ARTISTS.]
[CHAPTER XXVII.]
BENJAMIN WEST.
A native of Pennsylvania—Circumstances attending his birth—The child of promise—First indications of genius—The baby's portrait—Lessons from the Indians—The box of colors—The truant pupil—The mother's discovery—-West's opinion of his first picture—The little portrait painter—The first attempt at historical painting—"The Death of Socrates"—Choosing a profession—Dedicated to his work—A fighting Quaker—Establishes himself in New York—Visits Europe—Arrival at Rome, and reception there—Visit to the Apollo Belvidere—West's criticism—Travels and labors on the continent—Visits England—His reception there—Urged to stay—Decides to make England his home—Sends for his bride—Marriage—"Agrippina Landing with the Ashes of Germanicus"—Success of the picture—The king becomes his friend—The most famous works of Benjamin West—"The Death of Wolfe"—Reception of the picture by the public—West triumphs over the critics, and inaugurates a new era of historical painting—Death of the king—West is elected President of the National Academy—His resignation and re-election—Closing years of a great career—Personal appearance—Leigh Hunt's description of him—Death—Burial in St. Paul's Cathedral.
[CHAPTER XXVIII.]
JOHN ROGERS.
Birth—Early years—Begins life as a clerk in a dry goods store—Artistic talent—Opposition of his parents—A change in his plans—Becomes an engineer—Failure of his eyes—Voyage to Spain—Return home—Becomes a machinist—Promoted—Learns to model in clay—Commences his studies in art—A hard life, and a noble perseverance—A change for the better—A sudden reverse—Out of work—Visits Europe to study his art—Returns home in despair—Enters the service of the surveyor of the city of Chicago—His first statuettes—Their success—A new field opened to him—Visits New York, and learns the new method of casting figures—Establishes himself in New York—His first studio—Immediate popularity of his works—Description of them—Removes to a new studio—His later works—Process by which they are made-Originality of the artist rewarded by the public—Personal characteristics.
[CHAPTER XXIX.]
HIRAM POWERS.
Birth—Juvenile mechanical skill—The life of a Vermont boy—Hard times—Removal of the Powers family to the West—The new farm—Misfortunes never come singly—Breaking up of the household—Hiram's first employment—The reading-room scheme—Hiram becomes a collector of bad debts—Reminiscences of the young West—Powers becomes a mechanic—Story of the brass plates—Rapid promotion—The silver watch—How Hiram purchased it—The Cincinnati Museum—The artist's first lessons in modeling—His first sitter—The trial of skill—The king of the Cannibal Islands—The man-eater—Hiram becomes interested in the museum—How he played the devil in Cincinnati—A dishonest employer—Mr. Longworth's offer—Powers goes to Washington—His success there—Visit to "Old Hickory"—The first critic—Kindness of Senator Preston—Powers goes to Italy—Arrival in Florence—His first works in Italy—Visit to Thorwaldsen—Works of Powers—His rapid success—His life in Italy—Views of Mr. Powers respecting an artist life—Personal characteristics—Popularity with artists.
[CHAPTER XXX.]
EMMANUEL LEUTZE.
An American by adoption—Early life and education—How he learned to draw—Becomes an artist—His first picture—The evils of too much haste—His first professional engagement—Despondency—A ramble through the Virginia woods, and what came of it—A friend in need—Greater success—Friendship of Mr. Carey—Leutze goes to Europe—Studies at Dusseldorf-His reception there—Becomes Lessing's pupil—His first picture finds a purchaser—Travels and studies in Europe—Returns to Dusseldorf, marries, and makes his home in that place—His paintings—Returns to New York—Success in America—The Government commission—Journey to the Rocky Mountains—The great fresco in the Capitol—"Westward the Star of Empire takes it Way"—Revisits Dusseldorf—Reception by the artists—Returns to the United States—Further commissions from the Government—His sudden death—His unfinished works—Mr. Tuckerman's remarks.
[VIII. DIVINES.]
[CHAPTER XXXI.]
HENRY WARD BEECHER.
A Connecticut boy—The minister's family—A gloomy childhood—Ma'arm Kilbourn's school—The loss of his curls—The dull boy—A bad voice for an orator—His first religious impressions—Aunt Esther—The Sunday catechism—Sent to boarding school—Love of nature—Enters his sister's school—The hopeless case—An inveterate joker and an indifferent scholar—Removal to Boston—Gets through the Latin school—The sea-going project—Dr. Beecher's ruse—Life at Mount Pleasant—Conquers mathematics—Embraces religion at a revival—Resolves to become a minister—Removal to Cincinnati—Course at the Lane Seminary—How he learned to preach—Marries—His first charge—Life at Lawrenceburg—Removal to Indianapolis—Life in the West—His popularity—His theory of preaching and its success—Conversion of his brother—Mr. Beecher accepts a call to Plymouth Church in Brooklyn—Political record—Literary labors—Pastoral work—A large audience—Government of Plymouth Church—Description of the edifice—The congregation—The services—Mr. Beecher as a preacher—Sympathy between the pastor and his hearers—His ideas of religion—How he prepares his sermons—His prayers unstudied—The social receptions—The Friday evening meeting—A characteristic scene—Labors during the war—Visit to Europe—An unpopular sermon in a good cause—Personal characteristics.
[CHAPTER XXXII.]
PETER CARTWRIGHT.
Birth—Removal to Kentucky—"Rogue's harbor"—Condition of the country and the people—Frontier life—Early life of a preacher—Becomes a Christian—His account of his conversion—Is made an exhorter in the Methodist Church—Removal to Lewiston County—Begins preaching—Qualifications of a backwoods preacher—His energy—The jerks—How Peter frightened a bully—A brimstone angel—Enters the ministry—Appointed to the Marietta Circuit—A good school—Hard times—Marries—Quiet heroism—How the old-time people married—His devotion to the Methodist Church—Troubles with other denominations—How he argued with a Universalist—How he met a wrathful dame—Encounter with a Baptist preacher—Adventure with Father Teel—Taming a shrew—Removal to Illinois—His reasons for taking that step—Death of his daughter—Arrival at his new home—Life on the frontier—A large district—The Methodist circuit riders of sixty years ago—Perils of frontier traveling—Success of Cartwright's ministry—How he was superannuated—His courage—How he cleared a camp of rowdies—Encounter on a ferry-boat—Frightens a bully—Advocates temperance—A practical joke—Is elected to the Legislature—His opinion of politics—How he raised the devil—"Another sinner down"—Missionaries from the East—Indignation of the backwoods preacher—The proposed mission to New England—Cartwright declines it—He visits Boston—His reception—How he preached for Father Taylor—Summing up—Sixty-seven years of a preacher's life.
[IX. AUTHORS.]
[CHAPTER XXXIII.]
HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.
Birth and early life—The old house by the sea—College life—Early literary productions—Becomes a professor in Bowdoin College—Travels in Europe—Marriage—Literary labors—"Outre Mer"—Is made a professor in Harvard College—His second visit to Europe—Death of his wife—Goes to live in the Craigie House—Historical associations—Washington's headquarters—A congenial home—Literary labors—"Hyperion"—Great popularity of the book—"Voices of the Night"—"The Spanish Student"—Mr. Longfellow buys the Craigie House—Summary of his works—The "Song of Hiawatha"—Death of Mrs. Longfellow—Mr. Longfellow again visits Europe—His popularity with the English-speaking race—Cause of his popularity—"Resignation"—Scene from "The Golden Legend"—The poet's home.
[CHAPTER XXXIV.]
NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE.
The Hawthornes of Salem—A sea-going race—Birth of Nathaniel Hawthorne—A sad home—Early life—His college days—Longfellow's recollection of him—Returns home—The young recluse—Literary efforts—"Twice-Told Tales"—"The most unknown author in America"—Enters the Boston Custom House—His duties—Popularity with the sailors—Loses his office—Becomes a member of the Brook Farm Community—Marries and goes to live at Concord—"The Old Manse"—Life at Concord—Curiosity of the village people—"Mosses from an Old Manse"—Hawthorne's visitors—Hawthorne and his friends—George William Curtis' recollections—Removes to Salem—Is made surveyor of that port—"The Scarlet Letter"—Removal to the Berkshire Hills—"The House of the Seven Gables"—Returns to Concord—"Life of Franklin Pierce"—Is made Consul to Liverpool—-Life abroad—Depressed by the war—Moncure D. Conway's recollections—Juvenile works—Death of Mr. Ticknor—Effect upon Hawthorne—Goes traveling with Ex-President Pierce—Sudden death of Hawthorne—Burial at Concord.
[X. ACTORS.]
[CHAPTER XXXV.]
EDWIN BOOTH.
The elder Booth—His success as an actor—His sons—Birth of Edwin Booth—Early life—Brought up on the stage—Admiration for his father—Travels with him—First appearance—Appears frequently with his father—Plays Richard III. in New York—A bold venture—Learns the details of his profession—Visits Australia and the Sandwich Islands—Re-appearance in New York in 1857—Recollections of him at that time—His labors in his profession—Successful tours throughout the country—Visits England—Appears at the Haymarket Theater in London—Studies on the continent—Appearance at the Winter Garden—The Shakespearian revivals—Destruction of the Winter Garden by fire—Loss of Mr. Booth's theatrical wardrobe—Popular sympathy—The new theater—Opening of the building—Description of Booth's Theater—A magnificent establishment—A splendid stage—Novel mode of setting the scenes—Magnificent mounting of the plays produced there—Mr. Booth's performances—Personal—Genius as an actor—Beneficial influence upon the drama.
[CHAPTER XXXVI.]
JOSEPH JEFFERSON.
The Jefferson family—A race of actors—Jefferson the first—"Old Jefferson"—Jefferson the third—Birth of Joseph Jefferson—Childhood—Brought up on the stage—Olive Logan's reminiscence—First appearance in public—Early training—Career as a stock actor—Becomes a "star"—His success—Visits Australia, the player's El Dorado—Pecuniary success of Jefferson in Australia—His merits as an actor—Visits England—First appearance at the Adelphi Theater—"Our American Cousin"—Production of Rip Van Winkle—Makes the part his specialty—Description of his performance of Rip Van Winkle—Personal characteristics—Devotion to his profession—Love of art—A capital sportsman—Buys a panorama—A visit to John Sefton—"The Golden Farmer"—Private life.
[XI. PHYSICIANS.]
[CHAPTER XXXVII.]
BENJAMIN RUSH.
Birth and early life—Adopts medicine as a profession—Studies in Europe—Returns home, and is made a professor in the Philadelphia Medical College—Political career—Elected to the Provincial Conference of Pennsylvania—Action with respect to the independence of the colonies—Elected to the Continental Congress—Signs the Declaration of Independence—Marriage—Is made Surgeon-General of the army—Becomes Physician-General—Troubles—Resigns his commission—Letters to the people of Pennsylvania—Services in the State conventions—Resumes his practice in Philadelphia—Plans the Philadelphia Dispensary—Resumes his professor's chair—The yellow fever in Philadelphia—A scene of terror—"The Hundred Days"—Dr. Rush's treatment of the disease—Opposition of the Faculty—Success of Rush's treatment—Testimony of Dr. Ramsay—Suit for damages—Dr. Rush's services during the fever—Reminiscences—Honors from European sovereigns—Is made Treasurer of the United States Mint—Literary labors—Zeal in behalf of Christianity—His connection with the Bible Society—Death.
[CHAPTER XXXVIII.]
VALENTINE MOTT.
Birth—Early life—Enters Columbia College—His medical studies—Continues his studies in Europe—Great surgical genius—His early success as an operator—Returns home—Is made Professor of Surgery in Columbia College—His career and success as a teacher—Introduces the system of clinical instruction—Difficulty of procuring "subjects" for dissection—Desperate expedients—midnight adventure—A ready rebuke—Success and skill as a surgeon—Tribute from Sir Astley Cooper—A wonderful operation—Sketch of his original operations—His mode of operating—Careful preparation—Success as a physician—A progressive mind—Professional honors—Visits Europe—Reception abroad—Operates upon the Sultan of Turkey—A cool proposition—Personal—His last illness and death—"President Lincoln murdered."
I. MERCHANTS.
CHAPTER I.
STEPHEN GIRARD.
One May morning, in the year 1776, the mouth of the Delaware Bay was shrouded in a dense fog, which cleared away toward noon, and revealed several vessels just off the capes. From one of these, a sloop, floated the flag of France and a signal of distress. An American ship ran alongside the stranger, in answer to her signal, and found that the French captain had lost his reckoning in a fog, and was in total ignorance of his whereabouts. His vessel, he said, was bound from New Orleans to a Canadian port, and he was anxious to proceed on his voyage. The American skipper informed him of his locality, and also apprised him of the fact that war had broken out between the colonies and Great Britain, and that the American coast was so well lined with British cruisers that he would never reach port but as a prize. "What shall I do?" cried the Frenchman, in great alarm. "Enter the bay, and make a push for Philadelphia," was the reply. "It is your only chance."
The Frenchman protested that he did not know the way, and had no pilot. The American captain, pitying his distress, found him a pilot, and even loaned him five dollars, which the pilot demanded in advance. The sloop got under weigh again, and passed into the Delaware, beyond the defenses which had been erected for its protection, just in time to avoid capture by a British war vessel which now made its appearance at the mouth of the bay. Philadelphia was reached in due time, and, as the war bade fair to put an end to his voyages, the captain sold the sloop and her cargo, of which he was part owner, and, entering a small store in Water Street, began the business of a grocer and wine-bottler. His capital was small, his business trifling in extent, and he himself labored under the disadvantage of being almost unable to speak the English language. In person he was short and stout, with a dull, repulsive countenance, which his bushy eyebrows and solitary eye (being blind in the other) made almost hideous. He was cold and reserved in manner, and was disliked by his neighbors, the most of whom were afraid of him.
This man was Stephen Girard, who was afterward destined to play so important a part in the history of the city to which the mere chances of war sent him a stranger.
He was born at Bordeaux, in France, on the 21st of May, 1750, and was the eldest of the five children of Captain Pierre Girard, a mariner of that city. His life at home was a hard one. At the age of eight years, he discovered that he was blind in one eye, and the mortification and grief which this discovery caused him appear to have soured his entire life. He afterward declared that his father treated him with considerable neglect, and that, while his younger brothers were sent to college, he was made to content himself with the barest rudiments of an education, with merely a knowledge of reading and writing. When he was quite young, his mother died, and, as his father soon married again, the severity of a step-mother was added to his other troubles. When about thirteen years of age, he left home, with his father's consent, and began, as a cabin-boy, the life of a mariner. For nine years he sailed between Bordeaux and the French West Indies, rising steadily from his position of cabin-boy to that of mate. He improved his leisure time at sea, until he was not only master of the art of navigation, but generally well informed for a man in his station. His father possessed sufficient influence to procure him the command of a vessel, in spite of the law of France which required that no man should be made master of a ship unless he had sailed two cruises in the royal navy and was twenty-five years old. Gradually Girard was enabled to amass a small sum of money, which he invested in cargoes easily disposed of in the ports to which he sailed. Three years after he was licensed to command, he made his first appearance in the port of Philadelphia. He was then twenty-six years old.
From the time of his arrival in Philadelphia he devoted himself to business with an energy and industry which never failed. He despised no labor, and was willing to undertake any honest means of increasing his subsistence. He bought and sold any thing, from groceries to old "junk." His chief profit, however, was in his wine and cider, which he bottled and sold readily. His business prospered, and he was regarded as a thriving man from the start.
In July, 1777, he married Mary Lum, a servant girl of great beauty, and something of a virago as well. The union was an unhappy one, as the husband and wife were utterly unsuited to each other. Seven years after her marriage, Mrs. Girard showed symptoms of insanity, which became so decided that her husband was compelled to place her in the State Asylum for the Insane. He appears to have done every thing in his power to restore her to reason. Being pronounced cured, she returned to her home, but in 1790 He was compelled to place her permanently in the Pennsylvania Hospital, where, nine months after, she gave birth to a female child, which happily died. Mrs. Girard never recovered her reason, but died in 1815, and was buried in the hospital grounds.
Girard fled from Philadelphia, with his wife, in September, 1777, at the approach of the British, and purchased a house at Mount Holly, near Burlington, New Jersey, where he carried on his bottling business. His claret commanded a ready sale among the British in Philadelphia, and his profits were large. In June, 1778, the city was evacuated by Lord Howe, and he was allowed to return to his former home.
Though he traded with the British, Girard considered himself a true patriot, as indeed he was. On the 27th of October, 1778, he took the oath of allegiance required by the State of Pennsylvania, and renewed it the year following. The war almost annihilated the commerce of the country, which was slow in recovering its former prosperity; but, in spite of this discouraging circumstance, Girard worked on steadily, scorning no employment, however humble, that would yield a profit. Already he had formed the plans which led to his immense wealth, and he was now patiently carrying out the most trying and disheartening preliminaries. Whatever he undertook prospered, and though his gains were small, they were carefully husbanded, and at the proper time invested in such a manner as to produce a still greater yield. Stephen Girard knew the value of little things, and he knew how to take advantage of the most trifling circumstance. His career teaches what may be done with these little things, and shows how even a few dollars, properly managed, may be made to produce as many thousands.
In 1780, Mr. Girard again entered upon the New Orleans and St. Domingo trade, in which he was engaged at the breaking out of the Revolution. He was very successful in his ventures, and was enabled in a year or two to greatly enlarge his operations. In 1782, he took a lease of ten years on a range of frame buildings in Water Street, one of which he occupied himself, with the privilege of a renewal for a similar period. Rents were very low at that time, as business was prostrated and people were despondent; but Girard, looking far beyond the present, saw a prosperous future. He was satisfied that it would require but a short time to restore to Philadelphia its old commercial importance, and he was satisfied that his leases would be the best investment he had ever made. The result proved the correctness of his views. His profits on these leases were enormous.
About this time he entered into partnership with his brother, Captain John Girard, in the West India trade. But the brothers could not conduct their affairs harmoniously, and in 1790 the firm was dissolved by mutual consent. Stephen Girard's share of the profits at the dissolution amounted to thirty thousand dollars. His wealth was greatly increased by a terrible tragedy which happened soon afterward.
At the outbreak of the great insurrection in St. Domingo, Girard had two vessels lying in one of the ports of that island. At the first signal of danger, a number of planters sent their valuables on board of these ships for safe-keeping, and went back to their estates for the purpose of securing more. They never returned, doubtless falling victims to the fury of the brutal negroes, and when the vessels were ready to sail there was no one to claim the property they contained. It was taken to Philadelphia, and was most liberally advertised by Mr. Girard, but as no owner ever appeared to demand it, it was sold, and the proceeds—about fifty thousand dollars—turned into the merchant's own coffers. This was a great assistance to him, and the next year he began the building of those splendid ships which enabled him to engage so actively in the Chinese and East India trades.
His course was now onward and upward to wealth. At first his ships merely sailed between Philadelphia and the port to which they were originally destined; but at length he was enabled to do more than this. Loading one of his ships with grain, he would send it to Bordeaux, where the proceeds of her cargo would be invested in wine and fruit. These she would take to St. Petersburg and exchange for hemp and iron, which were sold at Amsterdam for coin. From Amsterdam she would proceed to China and India, and, purchasing a cargo of silks and teas, sail for Philadelphia, where the final purchase was sold by the owner for cash or negotiable paper. His success was uniform, and was attributed by his brother merchants to luck.
Stephen Girard had no faith in luck. He never trusted any thing to chance. He was a thorough navigator, and was perfect master of the knowledge required in directing long voyages. He understood every department of his business so well that he was always prepared to survey the field of commerce from a high stand-point. He was familiar with the ports with which he dealt, and was always able to obtain such information concerning them as he desired, in advance of his competitors. He trusted nothing of importance to others. His instructions to the commanders of his ships were always full and precise. These documents afford the best evidence of the statements I have made concerning his system, as the following will show:
Copy of Stephen Girard's Letter to Mr. ——, Commander and Supercargo of the ship ——, bound to Batavia.
Philadelphia, ——.
Sir—I confirm my letters to you of the —— ult., and the —— inst. Having recently heard of the decease of Mr. ——, merchant at Batavia, also of the probable dissolution of his house, under the firm of Messrs. ——, I have judged it prudent to request my Liverpool correspondents to consign the ship ——, cargo, and specie on board, to Mr. ——, merchant at Batavia, subject to your control, and have requested said Liverpool friends to make a separate invoice and bill of lading for the specie, which they will ship on my account, on board of the ship ——, and similar documents for the merchandise, which they will ship in the same manner; therefore, I request that you will sign in conformity.
I am personally acquainted with Mr. ——, but not with Mr. ——, but I am on very friendly terms with some particular friends of the latter gentleman, and consequently I give him the preference. I am sorry to observe, however, that he is alone in a country where a partner appears to me indispensable to a commercial house, as well for the safety of his own capital as for the security of the interests of those who may confide to them property, and reside in distant parts of the globe.
The foregoing reflections, together with the detention of my ship V——, at Batavia, from June last, epoch of her arrival at that port, until the 15th of September, ——, when she had on board only nineteen hundred peculs of coffee, are the motives which have compelled me to request of my Liverpool friends to consign the specie and goods, which they will ship on my account, on board of the ship ——, under your command, to said Mr. ——, subject to your control.
Therefore, relying upon your activity, perseverance, correctness, zeal, and attention for my interest, I proceed in pointing out to you the plan of conduct which I wish you to pursue on your arrival at Batavia, and during your stay at that or any port of that island, until your departure for Cowes, on the Isle of Wight, to await my subsequent orders.
First. On your arrival at Batavia, you are to go on shore and ascertain Mr. ——'s residence, and, if you have reason to believe that he is still considered at that place as a man of good credit, and merits full confidence, you are to deliver to him my Liverpool consignees' letters to his address, and also the goods which you have on board, in such proportion as he may request, except the specie, which is to continue on board, as mentioned in the next article.
Second. The specie funds of the ship ——, which will consist of old Carolus dollars, you are to retain on board untouched, and in the said boxes or packages as they were in when shipped from Liverpool, well secured, and locked up in your powder magazine, in the after run of the said ship under the cabin floor.
The bulkhead and floor of said magazine, scuttle, iron bar, staples, etc., must be made sufficiently strong, if not already so, while you are at Liverpool, where you are to procure a strong padlock and key, for the purpose of securing said specie in the most complete and safest manner; and when you have the certainty that it is wanted to pay for the coffee purchased on account of the ship ——, then you are to receive the said coffee, and pay or deliver to your consignee Spanish dollars to the amount of said purchase, and no more, having due regard to the premium or advance allowed at Batavia on old Spanish dollars; and in that way you are to continue paying or delivering dollars as fast as you receive coffee, which is not to exceed the quantity which can be conveniently stowed on board said ship ——, observing to take a receipt for each payment, and to see that the net proceeds of the goods, which will have been shipped at Liverpool, must be invested in coffee, as far as the sales will permit, and shipped on board of said ship.
Should it happen that on your arrival at Batavia you should find that death, absence, etc., should deprive you of the services of Mr. ——, or that, owing to some causes before mentioned, it would be prudent to confide my interests elsewhere, in either case you are to apply to Messrs. ——, merchants of that place, to communicate your instructions relative to the disposal of the Liverpool cargo, on board of the ship ——, the loading of that ship with good merchantable coffee, giving the preference to the first quality whenever it can be purchased on reasonable terms for cash, or received in payment for the sales of the said Liverpool cargo, or for a part thereof, observing that I wished said coffee to be purchased at Samarang, or any other out-port, if practicable; and in all cases it must be attentively examined when delivered, and put up in double gunny bags.
If the purchase of said cargo is made at an out-port, the ship ——must proceed there to take it in.
On the subject of purchasing coffee at government sales, I have no doubt that it is an easy way to obtain a cargo, but I am of opinion that it is a very dear one, particularly as the fair purchaser, who has no other object in view but to invest his money, does not stay on the footing of competitors, who make their payments with Netherland bills of exchange, or wish to raise the prices of their coffee which they may have on hand for sale.
Under these impressions, I desire that all the purchases of coffee on my account be made from individuals, as far as practicable, and if the whole quantity necessary to load the ship can not be obtained at private sale, recourse must then be had to government sales.
In many instances I have experienced that whenever I had a vessel at Batavia, the prices of coffee at the government sales have risen from five to ten per cent., and sometimes higher.
On the subject of coffee I would remark that, owing to the increase of the culture of that bean, together with the immense imports of tea into the several ports of Europe, the price of that leaf has been lowered to such a degree as to induce the people of those countries, principally of the north, to use the latter article in preference to the first.
That circumstance has, for these past three years, created a gradual deduction from the consumption of coffee, which has augmented the stock on hand throughout every commercial city of the northern part of the globe, so as to present a future unfavorable prospect to the importers of that article. Indeed, I am convinced that, within a few months from this date, coffee will be ten per cent. cheaper in the United States than what it has been at Batavia for these two years past; nevertheless, being desirous to employ my ships as advantageously as circumstances will permit, and calculating also that the price at Java and other places of its growth will fall considerably, I have no objection to adventure.
Therefore, you must use every means in your power to facilitate the success of the voyage.
Should the invoice-cost of the entire cargo of coffee shipped at Java, on board of the ship ——, together with the disbursements of that ship (which must be conducted with the greatest economy), not amount to the specie funds and net proceeds of her Liverpool cargo, in that event you are to deliver the surplus to your consignee, who will give you a receipt for the same, with a duplicate, expressing that it is on my account, for the purpose of being invested on the most advantageous terms, in good dry coffee, to be kept at my order and disposal.
Then you will retain the original in your possession, and forward to me the duplicate by first good vessel to the United States, or via Europe, to care of my correspondents at Liverpool, London, Antwerp, or Amsterdam, the names of whom you are familiar with.
If you should judge it imprudent, however, to leave that money at Batavia, you are to bring it back in Spanish dollars, which you will retain on board for that purpose.
Although I wish you to make a short voyage, and with as quick dispatch at Java as practicable, yet I desire you not to leave that island unless your consignee has finally closed the sales of the Liverpool cargo, so that you may be the bearer of all the documents, and account-current, relative to the final transactions of the consignment of the ship —— and cargo. Duplicate and triplicate of said documents to be forwarded to me by your consignees, by the two first safe conveyances for the ports of the United States.
Being in the habit of dispatching my ships for Batavia from this port, Liverpool, or Amsterdam, as circumstances render it convenient, it is interesting to me to be from time to time informed of the several articles of produce and manufactures from each of those places which are the most in demand and quickest of sale at Java. Also of the quantity of each, size of package, and the probable price which they may sell for, cash, adding the Batavia duty, charges for selling, etc. Please to communicate this to your Batavia consignee.
The rates of commission I will allow for transacting the business relative to the ship and cargo at Java are two and a half per cent, for selling, and two and a half per cent, for purchasing and shipping coffee and other articles.
The consignees engaging to place on board of each prow one or two men of confidence, to see that the goods are safely delivered on board of the ship, to prevent pilfering, which is often practiced by those who conduct the lighter.
I am informed that the expenses for two men are trifling, comparatively, to the plunder which has been committed on board of the prows which deliver coffee on board of the ships.
No commissions whatever are to be allowed in the disbursements of my ships, whenever ship and cargo belong to me, and are consigned to some house.
While you remain at Batavia, I recommend you to stay on board of your ship, and not to go on shore except when the business of your ship and cargo may render it necessary.
Inclosed is an introductory letter to ——, which I request you to deliver, after you have made the necessary arrangements with Mr. ——for the consignment of the ship and cargo, or after the circumstance aforementioned has compelled you to look elsewhere for a consignee. Then you are to call upon said Messrs. ——, deliver them the aforesaid letter and the consignment of the ship —— and cargo, after having agreed with them in writing, which they will sign and deliver to you, that they engage to transact the business of the ship and cargo on the terms and conditions herein stated; and when that business is well understood and finally closed, you are to press them in a polite manner, so that they many give you a quick dispatch, without giving too great a price for the coffee, particularly at this present moment, when its price is declining throughout those countries where it is consumed.
Indeed, on the subject of purchasing coffee for the ship ——, the greatest caution and prudence should be exercised. Therefore, I request that you will follow the plan of conduct laid down for you throughout. Also, to keep to yourself the intention of the voyage, and the amount of specie you have on board; and in view to satisfy the curious, tell them that it is probable that the ship will take in molasses, rice, and sugar, if the price of that produce is very low, adding that the whole will depend on the success in selling the small Liverpool cargo. The consignees of said cargo should follow the same line of conduct, and if properly attended to by yourself and them, I am convinced that the cargo of coffee can be purchased ten per cent. cheaper than it would be if it is publicly known there is a quantity of Spanish dollars on board, besides a valuable cargo of British goods intended to be invested in coffee for Stephen Girard, of Philadelphia.
During my long commercial experience, I have noticed that no advantage results from telling one's business to others, except to create jealousy or competitors when we are fortunate, and to gratify our enemies when otherwise.
If my remarks are correct, I have no doubt they will show you the necessity of being silent, and to attend with activity, perseverance, and modesty, to the interests of your employer.
As my letters of instruction embrace several interesting objects, I request you to peruse them in rotation, when at sea in fine climates, during your voyage to Batavia, and to take correct extracts, so as to render yourself master of the most essential parts. I conclude by directing your attention to your health and that of your crew.
I am yours, respectfully,
Stephen Girard.
Mr. Girard was not only rigidly precise in his instructions, but he permitted no departure from them. He regarded it as dangerous to allow discretion to any one in the execution of his plans. Where a deviation from his instructions might cause success in one case, it would cause loss in ninety-nine others. It was understood among all his employés that a rigid obedience to orders, in even the most trifling particulars, was expected, and would be exacted. If loss came under such circumstances, the merchant assumed the entire responsibility for it.
Upon one occasion one of his best captains was instructed to purchase his cargo of teas at a certain port. Upon reaching home he was summoned by the merchant to his presence.
"Captain ——," said Mr. Girard, sternly, "your instructions required you to purchase your cargo at ——."
"That is true, Mr. Girard," replied the Captain, "but upon reaching that port I found I could do so much better at ——, that I felt justified in proceeding to the latter place."
"You should have obeyed your orders, sir," was the stern retort.
"I was influenced by a desire to serve your interests, sir. The result ought to justify me in my act, since it puts many thousands more into your pocket than if I had bought where I was instructed."
"Captain ——," said Girard, "I take care of my own interests. You should have obeyed your orders if you had broken me. Nothing can excuse your disobedience. You will hand in your accounts, sir, and consider yourself discharged from my service."
He was as good as his word, and, though the captain's disobedience had vastly increased the profit of the voyage, he dismissed him, nor would he ever receive him into his service again.
To his knowledge of his business Mr. Girard joined an unusual capacity for such ventures. He was, it must be said, hard and illiberal in his bargains, and remorseless in exacting the last cent due him. He was prompt and faithful in the execution of every contract, never departed in the slightest from his plighted word, and never engaged in any venture which he was not perfectly able to undertake. He was prudent and cautious in the fullest sense of those terms, but his ventures were always made with a boldness which was the sure forerunner of success.
His fidelity to his word is well shown by a circumstance which had occurred long after he was one of the "money kings" of the land. He was once engaged with his cashier in a discussion as to the length of time a man would consume in counting a million of dollars, telling out each dollar separately. The dispute became animated, and the cashier declared that he could make a million of dots with ink in a few hours.
"I'll tell you what I'll do," said Girard, who was thoroughly vexed by the opposition of the other, "I'll wager five hundred dollars that I can ride in my gig from here to my farm, spend two hours there, and return before you can make your million of dots with ink."
The cashier, after a moment's reflection, accepted the wager, and Mr. Girard departed to his farm. He returned in a few hours, confident that he had won. The cashier met him with a smile.
"Where is my money?" asked Girard, triumphantly.
"The money is mine," replied the cashier. "Come and see."
He led the merchant to an unused room of the bank, and there, to his dismay, Girard saw the walls and ceiling covered with spots of ink, which the cashier had dashed on them with a brush.
"Do you mean to say there are a million of dots here?" he cried, angrily.
"Count them, and see," replied his subordinate, laughing. "You know the wager was a million of dots with ink."
"But I expected you would make them with the pen."
"I did not undertake any thing of the kind."
The joke was too good, and the merchant not only paid the amount of the wager, but the cost of cleaning the walls.
In 1810 the question of renewing the charter of the old Bank of the United States was actively discussed. Girard was a warm friend of that institution, which he believed had been the cause of a very great part of the prosperity of the country, and was firmly convinced that Congress would renew the charter. In this belief he ordered the Barings, of London, to invest all his funds in their hands in shares of the Bank of the United States, which was done, during the following year, to the amount of half a million of dollars. When the charter expired, he was the principal creditor of that institution, which Congress refused to renew. Discovering that he could purchase the old Bank and the cashier's house for one hundred and twenty thousand dollars, he at once secured them, and on the 12th of May, 1812, opened the Girard Bank, with a capital of one million two hundred thousand dollars, which he increased the next year by one hundred thousand dollars more. He retained all the old officers of the Bank of the United States, especially the cashier, Mr. Simpson, to whose skill and experience he was greatly indebted for his subsequent success.
Finding that the salaries which had been paid by the Government were higher than those paid elsewhere, he cut them down to the rate given by the other banks. The watchman had always received from the old Bank the gift of an overcoat at Christmas, but Girard put a stop to this. He gave no gratuities to any of his employés, but confined them to the compensation for which they had bargained; yet he contrived to get out of them service more devoted than was received by other men who paid higher wages and made presents. Appeals to him for aid were unanswered. No poor man ever came full-handed from his presence. He turned a deaf ear to the entreaties of failing merchants to help them on their feet again. He was neither generous nor charitable. When his faithful cashier died, after long years spent in his service, he manifested the most hardened indifference to the bereavement of the family of that gentleman, and left them to struggle along as best they could.
Yet from the first he was liberal and sometimes magnificent in the management of his bank. He would discount none but good paper, but it was his policy to grant accommodations to small traders, and thus encourage beginners, usually giving the preference to small notes, by this system doing very much to avert the evils that would of necessity have sprung from the suspension of the old Bank of the United States. The Government credit was almost destroyed, and money was needed to carry on the war. He made repeated advances to the treasury, unsolicited by the authorities, and on more than one occasion kept the Government supplied with the sinews of war. In 1814, when our prospects, both military and financial, were at their lowest ebb, when the British forces had burned Washington and the New England States were threatening to withdraw from the Union, the Government asked for a loan of five millions of dollars, with the most liberal inducements to subscribers. Only twenty thousand dollars could be obtained, and the project seemed doomed to failure, when it was announced that Stephen Girard had subscribed for the whole amount. This announcement at once restored the public confidence, and Mr. Girard was beset with requests from persons anxious to take a part of the loan, even at an advanced rate. They were allowed to do so upon the original terms. When the Government could not, for want of funds, pay the interest on its debt to him, he wrote to the Secretary of the Treasury:
"I am of opinion that those who have any claim for interest on public stock, etc., should patiently wait for a more favorable moment, or at least receive in payment treasury notes. Should you be under the necessity of resorting to either of these plans, as one of the public creditors, I shall not murmur."
"A circumstance soon occurred, however, which was a source of no little discomfiture to the financial arrangements of his individual institution. This fact was the suspension of specie payments by the State banks, resulting from the non-intercourse act, the suspension of the old bank, and the combined causes tending to produce a derangement of the currency of the country. It was then a matter of great doubt with him how he should preserve the integrity of his own institution, while the other banks were suspending their payments; but the credit of his own bank was effectually secured by the suggestion of his cashier, Mr. Simpson, who advised the recalling of his own notes by redeeming them with specie, and by paying out the notes of the State banks. In this mode not a single note of his own was suffered to be depreciated, and he was thus enabled, in 1817, to contribute effectually to the restoration of specie payments."
He was instrumental in securing the establishment of the new Bank of the United States, and was its largest stockholder and one of its directors. He even offered to unite his own institution with it upon certain liberal conditions, which were refused. Yet he was always a firm friend to it.
"One of the characteristics of Mr. Girard was his public spirit. At one time he freely subscribed one hundred and ten thousand dollars for the navigation of the Schuylkill; at another time he loaned the company two hundred and sixty-five thousand eight hundred and fifty dollars. When the credit of the State of Pennsylvania was prostrated by what was believed to have been an injudicious system of internal improvement, and it was found expedient for the Governor to resort to its metropolis in order to replenish its coffers, he made a voluntary loan to Governor Shultz of one hundred thousand dollars. So far was his disposition to promote the fiscal prosperity of the country manifested, that, as late as 1831, when the country was placed in extreme embarrassment from the scarcity of money, he perceived the cause in the fact that the balance of trade was against us to a considerable extent, and he accordingly drew upon the house of Baring Brothers & Co. for bills of exchange to the amount of twelve thousand pounds sterling, which he disposed of to the Bank of the United States at an advance of ten per cent., which draft was followed up by another for ten thousand, which was disposed of in like manner to other institutions. This act tended to reduce the value of bills, and the rate of exchange suddenly fell. The same spirit which he manifested toward the national currency he exhibited to the corporation of Philadelphia, by erecting new blocks of buildings, and beautifying and adorning its streets; less, apparently, from a desire of profit than from a wish to improve the place which was his adopted home, and where he had reaped his fortunes. His subscription of two hundred thousand dollars to the Danville and Pottsville Railroad, in 1831, was an action in keeping with the whole tenor of his life; and his subscription of ten thousand dollars toward the erection of an exchange looked to the same result."
The war of 1812, which brought financial ruin to so many others, simply increased Girard's wealth. He never lost a ship, and as war prices prevailed, his profits were in accordance with them. One of his ships was taken by a British cruiser at the mouth of the Delaware, in the spring of 1813. Fearing that his prize would be recaptured by an American ship of war if he attempted to send her into port, the English admiral dispatched a flag of truce to Mr. Girard, and proposed to him to ransom the vessel for one hundred and eighty thousand dollars in coin. Girard consented, paid the money, and the ship was allowed to come up to the city. Her cargo consisted of silks, nankeens, and teas, and afforded her owner a profit of half a million of dollars.
Yet in the midst of all his wealth, which in 1828 was estimated at ten millions of dollars, he was a solitary old man.
He lived in a dingy little house in Water Street. His wife had died in an insane asylum, and he was childless. He was repulsive in person. He was feared by his subordinates—by all who had dealings with him—and liked by none. He was mean and close in his personal habits, living on less, perhaps, than any of his clerks, and deriving little or no benefit from his vast wealth, so far as his individual comfort was concerned. He gave nothing in charity. Lazarus would have lain at his doors a life-time without being noticed by him. He was solitary, soured, cold, with a heart of stone, and fully conscious of his personal unpopularity. Yet he valued wealth—valued it for the power it gave him over men. Under that cold, hardened exterior reigned an ambition as profound as that which moved Napoleon. He was ambitious of regulating the financial operations of the land, and proud of his power in this respect, and it should be remembered in his favor that he did not abuse that power after it had passed into his hands.
He had no vices, no dissipations; his whole soul was in his business. He was conscious that his only hope of distinction above his fellow-men was in his wealth, and he was resolved that nothing should make him swerve from his endeavor to accumulate a fortune which should make him all powerful in life and remembered in death. He sought no friends, and was reticent as to his career, saying to those who questioned him about it, "Wait till I am dead; my deeds will show what I was."
Religion had no place in his heart. He was an avowed unbeliever, making a boast of his disbelief. He always worked on Sunday, in order that he might show his disapproval of the observance of it as a day of rest. Rest, he said, made a man rusty, and attendance upon the worship of God he denounced as worse than folly. His favorite books were the works of Voltaire, and he named his best ships after the most celebrated French infidels.
Yet this man, so unloved, so undeserving of love, is said to have once had a warm heart. His early troubles and his domestic griefs are said to have soured and estranged him from mankind.
"No one who has had access to his private papers can fail to be impressed with the belief that these early disappointments furnish the key to his entire character. Originally of warm and generous impulses, the belief in childhood that he had not been given his share of the love and kindness which were extended to others, changed the natural current of his feelings, and, acting on a warm and passionate temperament, alienated him from his home, his parents, and his friends. And when in after time there were superadded years of bitter anguish, resulting from his unfortunate and ill-adapted marriage, rendered even more poignant by the necessity of concealment, and the consequent injustice of public sentiment, marring all his cherished expectations, it may be readily understood why constant occupation became a necessity and labor a pleasure."
This is the testimony of Mr. Henry W. Arey, the distinguished secretary of Girard College, in whose keeping are the papers of the subject of this memoir, and it must be confessed that his view of Girard's character is sustained by the following incidents, the narration of which I have passed over until now, in order that the history of his commercial career might not be interrupted:
In the summer of 1793 the yellow fever broke out with fearful violence in Philadelphia. The citizens fled in dismay, leaving the plague-smitten city to its fate. Houses were left tenantless, and the streets were deserted. It was a season of horror and dread. Those who could not get away avoided each other, and the sufferers were left to languish and die. Money could not buy nurses in sufficient numbers, and often the victims lay unburied for days in the places where they had died. So terrible was the panic that it seemed that nothing could stay it.
On the 10th of September the Federal Gazette, the only paper which had not suspended its publication, contained an anonymous card, stating that of the visitors of the poor all but three had succumbed to the disease or fled from the city, and begging assistance from such benevolent citizens as would consent to render their aid. On the 12th and 14th, meetings were held at the City Hall, at the last of which a volunteer committee was appointed to superintend the measures to be taken for checking the pestilence. Twenty-seven men volunteered to serve, but only twelve had the courage to fulfill their promise. They set to work promptly. The hospital at Bush Hill was reported by the physician to be in a deplorable state—without order, dirty and foul, and in need of nurses. The last, he stated, could not be had for any price. Two of the committee now stepped forward and nobly offered themselves as managers of the hospital. They were Stephen Girard and Peter Helm.
Girard was now a man of wealth and influence, and with a brilliant commercial career opening before him. Above all, he was a foreigner, and unpopular in the city. Yet he did not hesitate to take the post from which others shrank. He and Helm were regarded as doomed men, but they did not falter from their self-imposed task. They went to work at once. Girard chose the post of honor, which was the post of danger—the management of the interior of the hospital. His decisive character was at once felt. Order began to appear, medicines and nurses were procured, and the very next day the committee were informed that the hospital had been cleaned and reorganized, and was prepared to receive patients.
Girard opened his purse liberally, and spared no expense where money would avail. But this was not all. Besides personally superintending the interior of the hospital, he went about through the city seeking the sick and conveying them to the hospital.
"In the great scarcity of help, he used frequently to receive the sick and dying at the gate, assist in carrying them to their beds, nurse them, receive their last messages, watch for their last breath, and then, wrapping them in the sheet on which they had died, carry them out to the burial ground and place them in the trench. He had a vivid recollection of the difficulty of finding any kind of fabric in which to wrap the dead, when the vast number of interments had exhausted the supply of sheets. 'I would put them,' he would say, 'in any old rag I could find.'"
"If he ever left the hospital, it was to visit the infected districts, and assist in removing the sick from the houses in which they were dying without help. One scene of this kind, witnessed by a merchant who was hurrying past with camphored handkerchief pressed to his mouth, affords us a vivid glimpse of this heroic man engaged in his sublime vocation. A carriage, rapidly driven by a black man, broke the silence of the deserted and grass-grown street. It stopped before a frame house, and the driver, first having bound a handkerchief over his mouth, opened the door of the carriage, and quickly remounted to the box. A short, thick-set man stepped from the coach and entered the house. In a minute or two the observer, who stood at a safe distance watching the proceedings, heard a shuffling noise in the entry, and soon saw the stout little man supporting with extreme difficulty a tall, gaunt, yellow-visaged victim of the pestilence. Girard held round the waist the sick man, whose yellow face rested against his own; his long, damp, tangled hair mingled with Girard's; his feet dragging helpless upon the pavement. Thus he drew him to the carriage door, the driver averting his face from the spectacle, far from offering to assist. Partly dragging, partly lifting, Girard succeeded, after long and severe exertion, in getting him into the vehicle. He then entered it himself, closed the door, and the carriage drove away toward the hospital." [[A]]
For sixty days Mr. Girard continued to discharge his duties, never absenting himself from his post, being nobly sustained by Peter Helm.
Again, in 1797 and 1798, when the city was scourged a second and a third time with the fever, he volunteered his services, and more than earned the gratitude of his fellow-citizens. In the absence of physicians, he took upon himself the office of prescribing for the sick, and as his treatment involved careful nursing and the use of simple remedies only, he was very successful. In 1799 he wrote to his friend Devize, then in France, but who had been the physician at the Bush Hill Hospital in 1793:
"During all this frightful time I have constantly remained in the city, and, without neglecting any public duties, I have played a part which will make you smile. Would you believe it, my friend, that I have visited as many as fifteen sick people in a day, and what will surprise you still more, I have lost only one patient, an Irishman, who would drink a little. I do not flatter myself that I have cured one single person, but you will think with me that in my quality of Philadelphia physician I have been very moderate, and that not one of my confreres have killed fewer than myself."
Such acts as these should go far in his favor in estimating his character, for they are the very height of true heroism.
Mr. Girard was never idle. Work, as has before been said, was a necessity with him. Nothing would draw him from his labors. His only recreation was to drive to his little farm, which lay a few miles out of the city, and engage with his own hands in the work of tilling it. He was very proud of the vegetables and fruits he raised himself, and took great interest in improving their growth. During the visit of the present head of the house of Baring Bros, (then a young man) to this country, that gentleman supposed he would give Mr. Girard pleasure by informing him of the safe arrival of one of his ships, the Voltaire, from India. Engaging a carriage, he drove to the banker's farm, and inquired for Mr. Girard.
"He is in the hay-loft," was the answer.
"Inform him that I wish to see him," said Mr. Baring; but almost before the words had left his lips Girard was before him.
"I came to inform you," he said, addressing the banker, "that your ship, the Voltaire, has arrived safely."
"I knew that she would reach port safely," said Girard; "my ships always arrive safe. She is a good ship. Mr. Baring, you must excuse me; I am much engaged in my hay." And so saying, he ascended to the loft again.
To the last he was active. In 1830, having reached the age of eighty, he began to lose the sight of his eye; yet he would have no assistance. In attempting to cross a crowded street, he was knocked down by a passing wagon and injured severely. His ear was cut off, his face bruised, and his sight entirely destroyed. His health now declined rapidly, and on the 26th of December, 1831, he died, in the back room of his plain little house in Water Street.
His immense wealth was carefully divided by his will. He gave to his surviving brother and eleven of his nieces sums ranging from five to twenty thousand dollars, and to his remaining niece, who was the mother of a very large family, he gave sixty thousand dollars. He gave to each of the captains then in his employ who had made two voyages in his service, and who should bring his ship safely into port, fifteen hundred dollars. To each of his apprentices he gave five hundred dollars. To his old servants he gave annuities, ranging from three to five hundred dollars each.
He gave thirty thousand dollars to the Pennsylvania Hospital, in which his wife had been cared for; twenty thousand to the Deaf and Dumb Asylum; ten thousand to the Orphan Asylum; ten thousand to the Lancaster schools; ten thousand for the purpose of providing the poor in Philadelphia with free fuel; ten thousand to the Society for the Relief of Distressed Sea-Captains and their Families; twenty thousand to the Masonic Grand Lodge of Pennsylvania, for the relief of poor members; six thousand for the establishment of a free school in Passyunk, near Philadelphia; five hundred thousand dollars to the Corporation of Philadelphia for certain improvements in the city; three hundred thousand to the State of Pennsylvania for her canals; and a portion of his valuable estates in Louisiana to the Corporation of New Orleans, for the improvement of that city.
The remainder of his property, worth then about six millions of dollars, he left to trustees for the erection and endowment of the noble College for Orphans, in Philadelphia, which bears his name.
Thus it will be seen that this man, who seemed steeled to resist appeals for private charity in life, in death devoted all the results of his unusual genius in his calling to the noblest of purposes, and to enterprises of the most benignant character, which will gratefully hand his name down to the remotest ages of posterity.
Footnote A: [(return)]
James Parton.
CHAPTER II.
JOHN JACOB ASTOR.
Those who imagine that the mercantile profession is incapable of developing the element of greatness in the mind of man, find a perfect refutation in the career of the subject of this memoir, who won his immense fortune by the same traits which would have raised him to eminence as a statesman. It may be thought by some that he has no claim to a place in the list of famous Americans, since he was not only German by birth, but German in character to his latest day; but it must be borne in mind that America was the theater of his exploits, and that he owed the greater part of his success to the wise and beneficent institutions of the "New Land," as he termed it. In his own country he would have had no opportunity for the display of his great abilities, and it was only by placing himself in the midst of institutions favorable to progress that he was enabled to make use of his talents. It is for this reason, therefore, that we may justly claim him as one of the most celebrated of American merchants.
John Jacob Astor was born in the village of Waldorf, near Heidelberg, in the Grand Duchy of Baden, on the 17th of July, 1763. This year was famous for the conclusion of the Treaties of Paris and Hubertsburg, which placed all the fur-yielding regions of America, from the Gulf of Mexico to the Frozen Sea, in the hands of England. He was the youngest of four sons, and was born of Protestant parents. He was early taught to read Luther's Bible and the Prayer-book, and throughout his whole life remained a zealous Protestant. He was trained to the habit of rising early, and giving the first of his waking hours to reading the Bible and Prayer-book. This habit he continued all through life, and he often declared that it was to him the source of unfailing pleasure and comfort. His religious impressions were mainly due to his mother, who was a pious, thrifty, and hard-working woman, given to saving, and devoted to her family.
His father, on the contrary, was a jolly "ne'er do well," a butcher by trade, and not overburdened with industry. The business of a butcher in so small a village as Waldorf, where meat was a luxury to the inhabitants, was merely a nominal calling. It knew but one season of real profit. It was at that time the custom in Germany for every farmer to set apart a calf, pig, or bullock, and fatten it against harvest time. As that season approached, the village butcher passed from house to house to slaughter the animal, cure its flesh, or make sausage meat of it, spending, sometimes, several days at each house. This season brought Jacob Astor an abundance of work, and enabled him to provide liberally for the simple wants of his family; but during the rest of the year it was with difficulty that he could make bread for them. Yet Jacob took his hard lot cheerfully. He was merry over his misfortunes, and sought to forget them in the society of companions who gathered at the village beer-house. His wife's remonstrances against such a course of life were sometimes so energetic that the house became any thing but a pleasant place for the children.
Here John Jacob grew up to boyhood. His brothers left home to earn their livelihood elsewhere, as soon as they were old enough to do so, and he alone remained under the paternal roof. His father destined him for his own calling, but the boy shrank from it with disgust. To crown his misfortunes, his mother died, and his father married again, and this time a woman who looked with no favor upon the son. The newly-married pair quarreled continually, and the boy was glad to escape occasionally to the house of a schoolmate, where he passed the night in a garret or outhouse. By daylight he was back at his father's slaughter-house, to assist in carrying out the meat. He was poorly clad and badly fed, and his father's bad reputation wounded him so keenly that he shrank from playing with other boys, and led a life of comparative isolation.
Fortunately for him, he had a teacher, Valentine Jeune by name, the son of French Protestants, who was better fitted for his position than the majority of the more liberally-patronized Catholic instructors. He was well taught by Valentine Jeune in the rudiments of a plain education, and the tutor and the Protestant minister of the village together succeeded so well in his religious instruction that at the age of fourteen he was confirmed. Confirmation is the decisive point in the career of the German youth. Until then he is only a child. Afterward he is regarded as on the threshold of manhood, and is given to understand that the time has come for him to make choice of a career in life.
To the German peasant two courses only lie open, to learn a trade or go out to service. John Jacob was resolved not to do the latter, and he was in no condition to adopt the former. He was already familiar with his father's trade, but he shrank from it with disgust, and he could not hope to obtain money enough to pay for his tuition as an apprentice in any other calling. No workman in the village would receive him as an apprentice for less than fifty dollars, and fifty dollars were then further beyond his reach than as many millions in after years. The harvest was approaching, and Jacob Astor, seeing an unusual amount of work in store for him at that season, decided the matter for his son by informing him that he must prepare to settle down as his assistant. He obeyed, but discontentedly, and with a determination to abandon his home at the earliest practicable moment.
His chief desire was to leave Germany and emigrate to America. The American Revolution had brought the "New Land" into great prominence; and one of the brothers, Henry Astor, had already settled in New York as a butcher, and his letters had the effect of increasing John Jacob's desire to follow him. It was impossible to do so then, for the war which was raging in this country made it any thing but inviting to an emigrant, and the boy was entirely ignorant of the English language. Nevertheless, he knew that the war could not last always, and he resolved to go as soon as peace would allow him. Meanwhile he wished to join his elder brother, who had removed to London, and was now engaged with his uncle in the manufacture of musical instruments. In London he thought he could acquire a knowledge of English, and save from his wages the amount necessary to pay his passage from England to America. He could reach some of the seaports of the Continent by walking. But he needed money to pay his passage from there to Great Britain. His determination thus formed, he made no secret of it, and succeeded at length in extorting a reluctant consent from his father, who was not inclined to expect very much from the future career of his son. His teacher, however, had more faith in him, and said to the butcher, on the morning of the lad's departure: "I am not afraid of John Jacob; he'll get through the world. He has a clear head, and every thing right behind the ears."
He was seventeen years old when he left home; was stout and well built, and had a constitution of iron. He was possessed of a good plain education, and a remarkable degree of common sense. He had no vicious habits or propensities, and was resolved that he would never set foot again in his native town until he could do so as a rich man.
Ardently as he was bent on seeking his fortune in distant lands, it cost him a struggle to go away, for he was a true German in his attachment to his home and family. This attachment he never lost. After providing liberally for his relatives in his will, he made a munificent donation to his native village for the benefit of its poor children.
With his scanty wardrobe in a bundle, which he slung over his shoulder by a stick, and a mere pittance in his purse, he set out from Waldorf, on foot, for the Rhine. "Soon after I left the village," said he, in after-life, "I sat down beneath a tree to rest, and there I made three resolutions: to be honest, to be industrious, and not to gamble." He had but two dollars in his pocket; but this was enough for his purpose. The Rhine was not far distant from his native village, and this part of his journey he easily accomplished on foot. Upon reaching the river, he is said to have secured a place as oarsman on a timber raft. The timber which is cut in the Black Forest for shipment is made up into rafts on the Rhine, but instead of being suffered to float down the stream, as in this country, is rowed by oarsmen, each raft having from sixty to eighty men attached to it. As the labor is severe and attended with some risk, the wages are high, and the lot of the oarsmen not altogether a hard one, as they manage to have a great deal of sport among themselves. The amount paid as wages on these voyages is about ten dollars, besides the coarse fare furnished the men, and the time occupied is about two weeks.
Upon reaching the Dutch seaport at the mouth of the Rhine, young Astor received his wages—the largest sum he had ever possessed—and took passage in a vessel for London, where he was welcomed cordially by his brother, and provided with employment in his manufactory.
He now set to work to prepare himself for his emigration to America. His industry was unflagging. He worked literally from dawn till dark, and practiced the most rigid economy in his expenditures. His leisure time, which was brief, was spent in trying to master the English language, and in acquiring information respecting America. He had anticipated great difficulty in his efforts to learn English, but succeeded beyond his hopes. In six weeks he could make himself understood in that language, and some time before starting for America could speak it with ease, though he never could at any period of his life rid himself of his strong German accent. He was never able to write English correctly, but after being some years in this country acquired a style which was striking and to the point, in spite of its inaccuracy. England, however, was not a favorable place for acquiring information respecting America. The Colonies had exasperated the mother country by their heroic struggle for freedom, which was just drawing to its close, and the New World was pictured to the imagination of the young German in any thing but a favorable light. His most accurate information was gained from those who had returned from America, and these persons, as often as chance threw them in his way, he questioned with eagerness and precision; their answers were carefully stored up in his memory.
In September, 1783, the news of the peace which established the independence of the United States was published in Europe. Young Astor had now been in London two years, and had saved money enough to take him to America. He was the possessor of a suit of good clothes, besides his ordinary wearing apparel, and fifteen guineas in English money, which he had saved from his slender earnings by the absolute denial to himself of every thing not essential to his existence. The way to America was now open, and he resolved to set out at once. For five guineas he bought a steerage passage in a ship bound for Baltimore, and reserving about five pounds sterling of the remainder of his capital in money, invested the rest in seven German flutes, which he bought of his brother, and embarked for the "New Land."
The winter was memorable on land and sea for its severity, and our hero's first voyage was a stormy one. It is said that on one occasion, when the tempest was unusually violent, and the ship in imminent danger, he made his appearance in his Sunday clothes. In reply to those who asked his reason for so strange an act, he said that if he should reach land he would save his best clothes, and that if he was drowned it was immaterial what became of them.
Although the ship sailed in November, it did not reach the Chesapeake until near the end of January, and there, when only one day distant from Baltimore, was caught in the ice, where it was compelled to remain until late in March. This delay was very vexatious to the young emigrant, but it proved in the end the greatest blessing that could have befallen him. During the voyage Astor had made the acquaintance of one of his fellow passengers, a German, somewhat older than himself, and, while the ship lay fast in the ice, the two were constantly together. As a consequence of the intimacy which thus sprung up between them, they exchanged confidences, told each other their history, and their purpose in coming to America. Astor learned that his friend had emigrated to the New World a few years before, friendless and penniless, but that, beginning in a little way, he had managed to become a fur trader. He bought his furs from the Indians, and from the boatmen plying on the Hudson River. These he sold at a small profit to larger dealers, until he had accumulated a considerable sum for one in his position. Believing that he could find a better market in Europe than in America, he had embarked all his capital in skins, which he had taken to England and sold at a heavy advance. The proceeds he had invested in toys and trinkets valued by the savages, and was now on his way back with them, intending to go into the wilderness himself and purchase an additional stock of furs from the Indians. He recommended Astor to enter upon the same business; gave him valuable information as to the value of peltries in America and in England; told him the best way of buying, packing, preserving, and shipping the skins, and gave him the names of the leading furriers in New York, Montreal, and London. Astor was deeply impressed with the views of his friend, but he could not see his own way clear to such a success, as he had no capital. His friend assured him that capital was unnecessary if he was willing to begin in an humble way. He could buy valuable furs on the wharves of New York for toys and trinkets, and even for cakes, from the Indians who visited the city, and these he could sell at an advance to the New York dealers. He advised the young man, however, not to be satisfied with the American market, but to work for a position which would enable him to send his furs to England, where they would bring four or five times as much as in this country. Astor carefully treasured up all that his friend said to him, and quietly resolved that he would lose no time in entering upon this business, which seemed to promise so much.
The two friends traveled together from Baltimore to New York, where they were warmly received by Aster's brother, Henry, who had succeeded in laying the foundation of a prosperous business as a butcher, in which he afterward made a large fortune. Both brothers were men of business habits, and on the very first evening after the arrival of the new-comer they began to discuss plans for his future. Astor's friend stated all the advantages of the fur trade, and convinced Henry Astor that it was a fine field for the energies of his brother; and it was agreed that it would be best for the young man to seek employment in the service of some furrier in the city, in order that he might thoroughly learn the business, and familiarize himself with the country and its customs. To his great delight, young Astor learned that, so far from being compelled to pay his employer for learning him the business, as in Europe, he would be certain here to receive his board and nominal wages from the first. The next day the three started out, and succeeded in obtaining a situation for the young man in the store of Mr. Robert Bowne, a Quaker, and a merchant of long experience in the business, as well as a most estimable man. He is said to have engaged Astor at two dollars per week and his board.
Astor was at once set to work by his employer to beat furs, this method of treating them being required to prevent the moths from lodging in and destroying them. From the first he applied himself to the task of learning the business. He bent all the powers of his remarkable mind to acquiring an intimate knowledge of furs, and of fur-bearing animals, and their haunts and habits. His opportunities for doing so were very good, as many of the skins were sold over Bowne's counters by the hunters who had taken them. These men he questioned with a minuteness that astonished them, and the result was that in a few years he was as thoroughly familiar with the animals, their habits, their country, and the mode of taking them, as many of the trappers themselves. He is said to have been in his prime the best judge of furs in America. He appreciated the fact that no man can succeed in any business or profession without fully understanding it, and he was too much determined upon success to be satisfied with a superficial knowledge. He was resolved that there should be no detail in the business, however minute, with which he was unfamiliar, and he toiled patiently to acquire information which most salesmen in his place would have esteemed trivial. Nothing was trivial with him, however, and it is remarkable that he never embarked in any scheme until he had mastered its most trifling details. Few men have ever shown a deeper and more far-reaching knowledge of their profession and the issues involved in it than he. He fully understood that his knowledge would give him a power which a man of less information could not obtain, and he never failed to use that knowledge as a power. His instructions to his subordinates were always drawn up with the strictest regard to details, and show not only how thoroughly he had mastered the subject before him, but also how much importance he attached to the conscientious fulfillment of a well-digested plan of operations. He recognized no such thing as luck. Every thing with him was the result of a deliberate plan based upon knowledge. In this respect his career affords one of the best models to be found in our history.
Astor's employer was not insensible to his merits, and soon promoted him to a better place. In a little while the latter intrusted him with the buying of the furs from the men who brought them to the store, and he gave such satisfaction to his employer that he was rewarded with a still more confidential post. Montreal was at that time the chief fur depot of the country, and it was the custom of Mr. Bowne to make an annual journey to that city for the purpose of replenishing his stock. The journey was long and fatiguing, and as soon as the old gentleman found that he could intrust the mission to his clerk, he sent him in his place. Ascending the Hudson to Albany, Astor, with a pack on his back, struck out across the country, which was then almost unsettled, to Lake George, up which he passed into Lake Champlain. Sailing to the head of the lake, he made his way to Montreal. Then returning in the same way, he employed Indians to transport his furs from Lake George to Albany, and dropped down the Hudson in the way he had come. Mr. Bowne was delighted with the success of his clerk, who proved more than a match for the shrewd Indians in his bargains. It was doubtless here that Mr. Astor obtained that facility in "driving a hard bargain" for which he was afterwards noted.
As soon as Mr. Astor felt himself master of his business, he left the employ of Mr. Bowne, and began life on his own account. The field upon which he purposed entering was extensive, but it was one of which he had made a careful survey. Previous to the peace of 1763, the French and English divided the control of the fur-bearing regions of America. The British possessions, extending from Canada to the unexplored regions of the North, had been granted by a charter of Charles II. to Prince Rupert, and were, by virtue of that instrument, under the exclusive control of the Hudson Bay Company. Large quantities of furs were obtained in this region, and collected at the principal settlement, York Factory, from which they were shipped to England.
South of this region was Canada, then possessed by the French, who carried on an extensive trade with the Indians, who brought their furs down to Montreal in their birch canoes. The French finally settled in the country of the savages, and married among the natives, thenceforward entirely devoting themselves to the life of the trapper and hunter. These marriages produced a race of half-breeds who were especially successful in securing furs. The cession of Canada to England was a severe blow to the French traders, as it opened the country to the enterprise of the English, a few of whom were quick to avail themselves of its advantages. The French and Indians at first regarded them with hostility, but gradually became reconciled to their presence.
Under the French rule the savages had not been furnished with liquors, but the English soon sold whisky and rum in great quantities to them, receiving the best furs in return. As a consequence, intemperance spread rapidly among the savages, and threatened to put an end to their industry as gatherers of furs. To check the evil results of this irregular trading, a company was established in 1785, called the North-west Company. It was managed by twelve partners, some of whom resided at Montreal, and others at the trading posts in the interior. Their chief station was at Fort William, on Lake Superior. Here, at stated times, the agents would come up from Montreal and hold a consultation for the purchase of furs. These meetings always drew crowds of French and Indian trappers, boatmen, and others, who brought in large quantities of skins.
A few years later a third company was organized, with its principal station at Michilimackinac, near Lake Huron. It was called the Mackinaw Company, and its field of operations was the country bordering Lake Superior, and that lying between the Mississippi and the Rocky Mountains. The company was English, but did not hesitate to operate in American territory, so little regard did Great Britain pay to the rights of the infant republic.
"Although peace had been concluded, the frontier forts had not been given up. Oswego, Niagara, Detroit, Michilimackinac, and other posts were still in the hands of the English. The Indian tribes continued hostile, being under English influence. No company had as yet been formed in the United States. Several French houses at St. Louis traded with the Indians, but it was not until 1807 that an association of twelve partners, with a capital of forty thousand dollars, was formed at St. Louis, under the name of the Missouri Company.
"The trade, it will thus be seen, was almost wholly in the hands of the English companies—the Hudson's Bay Company in the north, the North-west Company in the Canadas, the Mackinaw Company in the territories of the United States—and the few American traders in the field had to rely on their individual resources, with no aid from a Government too feeble in its infancy to do more than establish a few Indian agencies, and without constitutional power to confer charter privileges."
The voyage of Captain Cook had brought to the notice of the fur dealers of the world the sea otter of the northern Pacific, and the announcement made upon the return of the expedition drew large numbers of adventurers to the west coast of America, in search of the valuable skins of these animals. In 1792, there were twenty-one vessels, principally American, on the coast.
It was into this field, already occupied by powerful and hostile corporations, that the young German entered. He was perfectly aware of the opposition his efforts would encounter from them, but he was not dismayed. He began business in 1786, in a small store in Water Street, which he furnished with a few toys and notions suited to the tastes of the Indians who had skins to sell. His entire capital consisted of only a few hundred dollars, a portion of which was loaned him by his brother. He had no assistants. He did all his own work. He bought his skins, cured, beat, and sold them himself.
Several times during the year he made journeys on foot through western New York, buying skins from the settlers, farmers, trappers, savages, wherever he could find them. He tramped over nearly the entire State in this way, and is said to have had a better knowledge of its geography and topography than any man living.
"He used to boast, late in life, when the Erie Canal had called into being a line of thriving towns through the center of the State, that he had himself, in his numberless tramps, designated the sites of those towns, and predicted that one day they would be the centers of business and population. Particularly he noted the spots where Rochester and Buffalo now stand, one having a harbor on Lake Erie and the other upon Lake Ontario. He predicted that those places would one day be large and prosperous cities; and that prediction he made when there was scarcely a settlement at Buffalo, and only wigwams on the site of Rochester."
During these tramps his business in the city was managed by a partner, with whom he was finally compelled to associate himself.
As soon as he had collected a certain number of bales of skins he shipped them to London, and took a steerage passage in the vessel which conveyed them. He sold his skins in that city at a fine profit, and succeeded in forming business connections which enabled him afterward to ship his goods direct to London, and draw regularly upon the houses to which they were consigned. He also made an arrangement with the house of Astor & Broadwood, in which his brother was a partner, by which he became the agent in New York for the sale of their musical instruments, a branch of his business which became quite profitable to him. He is said to have been the first man in New York who kept a regular stock of musical instruments on hand.
Slowly, and by unremitting industry, Mr. Astor succeeded in building up a certain business. His personal journeys made him acquainted with the trappers, and enabled him to win their good will. The savages sold their skins to him readily, and he found a steady market and a growing demand for his commodities in the Old World.
It was about this time that he married Miss Sarah Todd, of New York. She was a connection of the Brevoort family, and was of better social position than her husband. She entered heartily into his business, doing much of the buying and beating of the furs herself. She was a true helpmate to him, and long after he was a millionaire, he used to boast of her skill in judging furs and conducting business operations.
In 1794, Jay's treaty placed the frontier forts in the hands of the Americans, and thus increased the opportunities of our own traders to extend their business. It was of the greatest service to Mr. Astor. It enabled him to enlarge the field of his operations, and, at the same time, to send his agents on the long journeys which he formerly made, while he himself remained in New York to direct his business; which by this time had grown to considerable proportions.
He was now on the road to wealth. He had scores of trappers and hunters working for him in the great wilderness, and his agents were kept busy buying and shipping the skins to New York. As soon as he was able to do so he purchased a ship, in which he sent his furs to London, occasionally making a voyage thither himself. He manifested the greatest interest in the markets of the Old World, especially in those of Asia, and informed himself so accurately concerning them that he was always enabled to furnish his captains with instructions covering the most minute detail of their transactions in those markets; and it is said that he was never unsuccessful in his ventures there, except when his instructions were disobeyed.
In this again, as in the fur trade, we see him patiently acquiring knowledge of the eastern trade before venturing to engage in it. His first step was always to fully comprehend his task, to examine it from every possible point of view, so that he should be prepared to encounter any sudden reverse, or ready to take advantage of good fortune. Here lay the secret of his success—that he never embarked in an enterprise until he had learned how to use it to advantage.
Under his skillful management his business grew rapidly; but he avoided speculation, and confined himself to legitimate commerce. He was plain and simple in his habits, carrying this trait to an extreme long after economy had ceased to be necessary to him. He worked hard, indulged in no pleasures except horseback exercise and the theater, of both which he was very fond. It was only after he had amassed a large fortune that he ever left his business before the close of the day. Then he would leave his counting-room at two in the afternoon, and, partaking of an early dinner, would pass the rest of the day in riding about the island. So plain was his style of living that, before he became generally known as a wealthy man, a bank clerk once superciliously informed him that his indorsement of a note would not be sufficient, as it was not likely he would be able to pay it in case the bank should be forced to call upon him.
"Indeed," said Mr. Astor, "how much do you suppose I am worth?"
The clerk named a moderate amount, at which the merchant smiled quietly.
"Would the indorsement of Mr. ——, or Mr. ——, be sufficient?" asked Mr. Astor, naming several well-known merchants who lived in great style.
"Entirely sufficient," was the reply. "Each one of them is known to be wealthy."
"How much do you think each is worth?"
The clerk named large sums in connection with each of the gentlemen.
"Well, my friend," said the merchant, "I am worth more than any of them. I will not tell you how much I am worth, but it is more than any sum you have named."
The clerk looked at him in surprise, and then said, bluntly, "Then you are a greater fool than I took you for, to work as hard as you do."
Mr. Astor was very fond of telling this story, which he regarded as one of the best jokes of the day.
All this time Mr. Astor had lived over his store, but in 1800, after he had been in business fifteen years, he moved his dwelling to 223 Broadway, on the site of the Astor House of to-day. He lived here, with one removal, for upwards of twenty-five years. The house was plain and simple, but he was satisfied with it. He was now worth a quarter of a million dollars, and his business was growing rapidly. The fur trade was exceedingly profitable. A beaver skin could be bought from the trappers in western New York for one dollar and sold in London for six dollars and a quarter. By investing this amount in English manufactures, the six dollars and a quarter received for the skin could be made to produce ten dollars paid for the English goods in New York.
The Chinese trade was also very profitable. China was an excellent market for furs. They brought high prices, and the proceeds could always be invested in teas and silks, which sold well in New York. His profit on a voyage would sometimes reach seventy thousand dollars, and the average gain on a lucky venture of this kind was thirty thousand dollars. The high prices produced by the war of 1812-15 were also in Mr. Astor's favor. His ships were all remarkably lucky in escaping capture by the enemy, and he was almost the only merchant who had a cargo of tea in the market. Tea having reached double its usual price, he was enabled to reap immense profits from his ventures.
Mr. Francis, in his Old Merchants of New York, makes the following revelation of the manner in which Mr. Astor found it possible to carry on such an immense business. He says:
"A house that could raise money enough, thirty years ago, to send $260,000 in specie, could soon have an uncommon capital; and this was the working of the old system. The Griswolds owned the ship Panama. They started her from New York in the month of May, with a cargo of perhaps $30,000 worth of ginseng, spelter, lead, iron, etc., and $170,000 in Spanish dollars. The ship goes on the voyage, reaches Whampoa in safety (a few miles below Canton). Her supercargo, in two months, has her loaded with tea, some chinaware, a great deal of cassia, or false cinnamon, and a few other articles. Suppose the cargo mainly tea, costing about thirty-seven cents (at that time) per pound on the average.
"The duty was enormous in those days. It was twice the cost of the tea, at least; so that a cargo of $200,000, when it had paid duty of seventy-five cents per pound (which would be $400,000), amounted to $600,000. The profit was at least fifty per cent, on the original cost, or $100,000, and would make the cargo worth $700,000.
"The cargo of teas would be sold almost on arrival (say eleven or twelve months after the ship left New York in May), to wholesale grocers, for their notes at four and six months—say for $700,000. In those years there was credit given by the United States of nine, twelve, and eighteen months! So that the East India or Canton merchant, after his ship had made one voyage, had the use of Government capital to the extent of $400,000, on the ordinary cargo of a China ship.
"No sooner had the ship Panama arrived (or any of the regular East Indiamen), than her cargo would be exchanged for grocers' notes for $700,000. These notes could be turned into specie very easily, and the owner had only to pay his bonds for duty at nine, twelve, and eighteen months, giving him time actually to send two more ships, with $200,000 each, to Canton, and have them back again in New York before the bonds on the first cargo were due.
"John Jacob Astor, at one period of his life, had several vessels operating in this way. They would go to the Pacific, and carry furs from thence to Canton. These would be sold at large profits. Then the cargoes of tea to New York would pay enormous duties, which Astor did not have to pay to the United States for a year and a half. His tea cargoes would be sold for good four and six months paper, or perhaps cash; so that, for eighteen or twenty years, John Jacob Astor had what was actually a free-of-interest loan from Government of over five millions of dollars."
It is estimated that Mr. Astor made about two millions of dollars by his trade in furs and teas. The bulk of his immense fortune was made by investments in real estate. His estate was estimated at twenty millions of dollars at the time of his death, and has now increased to over forty millions. He had a firm faith in the magnificent future of New York as the greatest city of the continent, and as fast as his gains from his business came in, they were regularly invested in real estate. A part was expended in leasing for a long period property which the owners would not sell, and the rest in buying property in fee simple. These leases, some of which have but recently expired, were extremely profitable. In his purchases of land Mr. Astor was very fortunate. He pursued a regular system in making them. Whenever a favorable purchase could be made in the heart of the city, he availed himself of the opportunity, but as a rule he bought his lands in what was then the suburb of the city, and which few besides himself expected to see built up during their lifetime. His sagacity and foresight have been more than justified by the course of events. His estate now lies principally in the heart of New York, and has yielded an increase greater even than he had ventured to hope for. Seventy hundred and twenty houses are said to figure on the rent roll of the Astor estate at present, and besides these are a number of lots not yet built upon, but which are every day increasing in value. "When Mr. Astor bought Richmond Hill, the estate of Aaron Burr, he gave one thousand dollars an acre for the hundred and sixty acres. Twelve years later, the land was valued at fifteen hundred dollars per lot."
In 1810, he sold a lot near Wall Street for eight thousand dollars. The price was so low that a purchaser for cash was found at once, and this gentleman, after the sale, expressed his surprise that Mr. Astor should ask only eight thousand for a lot which in a few years would sell for twelve thousand.
"That is true," said Mr. Astor, "but see what I intend doing with these eight thousand dollars. I shall buy eighty lots above Canal Street, and by the time your one lot is worth twelve thousand dollars, my eighty lots will be worth eighty thousand dollars."
His expectations were realized.
During the war of the Revolution, Roger Morris and his wife, Mary, of Putnam County, were obliged to flee from the country to England for adhering to the cause of King George, and, being attainted by the authorities as public enemies, their immense estate, consisting of fifty-one thousand one hundred and two acres, was seized by the State of New York, and sold in small parcels to farmers, who believed the title thus acquired valid. In 1809, there were upwards of seven hundred families residing on this land. Mr. Astor, having learned that Roger and Mary Morris possessed only a life interest in their property, and having ascertained to his satisfaction that the State could not confiscate the rights of the heirs, purchased their claim, which was good not only for the land, but for all the improvements that had been put upon it. He paid twenty thousand pounds sterling for it. A few years previous to the death of Mrs. Morris, who survived her husband some years, Mr. Astor presented his claim. The occupants of the land were thunderstruck, but the right was on his side. The State of New York had simply robbed the heirs of their rights. There was no weak point in the claim. Having given defective titles to the farmers, the State was of course responsible for the claim; and upon finding out their mistake, the authorities asked Mr. Astor to name the sum for which he would be willing to compromise. The lands were valued at six hundred and sixty-seven thousand dollars, but Mr. Astor expressed his willingness to sell for three hundred thousand dollars. His offer was refused. In 1819, a second proposition was made to Mr. Astor by the Legislature of the State. He replied: "In 1813 or 1814 a similar proposition was made to me by the commissioners then appointed by the Honorable the Legislature of this State when I offered to compromise for the sum of three hundred thousand dollars, which, considering the value of the property in question, was thought very reasonable, and, at the present period, when the life of Mrs. Morris is, according to calculation, worth little or nothing, she being near eighty-six years of age, and the property more valuable than it was in 1813. I am still willing to receive the amount which I then stated, with interest on the same, payable in money or stock, bearing an interest of — per cent., payable quarterly. The stock may be made payable at such periods as the Honorable the Legislature may deem proper. This offer will, I trust, be considered as liberal, and as a proof of my willingness to compromise on terms which are reasonable, considering the value of the property, the price which it cost me, and the inconvenience of having so long lain out of my money, which, if employed in commercial operations, would most likely have produced better profits."
This offer was not accepted by the Legislature, and the cause was delayed until 1827, when it was brought before the courts. It was argued by such men as Daniel Webster and Martin Van Buren, on the part of the State, and by Thomas Addis Emmett, Ogden, and others for Astor. The State had no case, and the matter was decided in Astor's favor. Then the State consented to compromise. The famous Astor stock, which paid that gentleman about five hundred thousand dollars, was issued, and the titles of the possessors of the lands confirmed.
The most important of all of Mr. Astor's undertakings was his effort at founding the settlement of Astoria, on the coast of Oregon. This enterprise has been made so familiar to the majority of readers by the pen of Washington Irving, that I can only refer to it here. "His design," says a writer of thirteen years ago, "was to organize and control the fur trade from the lakes to the Pacific, by establishing trading posts along the Missouri and Columbia to its mouth. He designed establishing a central depot and post at the mouth of the Columbia. He proposed sending regular supply-ships to the Pacific posts around the Horn. By these, stores were to be sent also to the Russian establishments. It was part of his plan, if possible, to obtain possession of one of the Sandwich Islands as a station, for from the Pacific coast he knew that the Chinese market for his peltries could be most conveniently reached, and thus the necessity for a long and circuitous voyage be avoided. Instead of bringing the furs intended for China to New York, they could be sent from the Pacific. By the supply-ships, too, the stock of goods suitable for the Indian trade would be kept up there, and the cargoes purchased with the proceeds of the furs sold in China brought back to New York. The line of posts across the continent would become a line of towns; emigration would follow, and civilization would belt the continent.
"In this grand scheme, Mr. Astor was only anticipating the course of events which, fifty years later, we are beginning to witness. When he laid his plans before the Government, Mr. Jefferson, who was then President, 'considered as a great acquisition,' as he afterward expressed himself in a letter to Mr. Astor, 'the commencement of a settlement on the western coast of America, and looked forward with gratification to the time when its descendants should have spread themselves through the whole length of that coast, covering it with free and independent Americans, unconnected with us except by ties of blood and interest, and enjoying, like us, the rights of self-government.' Even Jefferson's mind, wide as it was, could not take in the idea of a national unity embracing both ends of the continent; but not so thought Astor. The merchant saw farther than the statesman. It was precisely this political unity which gave him hope and chance of success in his worldwide schemes. When the Constitution was adopted, the chief source of apprehension for its permanence with men like Patrick Henry, and other wise statesmen, was the extent of our territory. The Alleghanies, it was thought, had put asunder communities whom no paper constitution could unite. But at that early day, when Ohio was the far West, and no steamboat had yet gone up the Mississippi, Astor looked beyond the Ohio, beyond the Mississippi, and the Rocky Mountains, and saw the whole American territory, from ocean to ocean, the domain of one united nation, the seat of trade and industry. He saw lines of trading posts uniting the Western settlements with the Pacific; following this line of trading posts, he saw the columns of a peaceful emigration crossing the plains, crossing the mountains, descending the Columbia, and towns and villages taking the places of the solitary posts, and cultivated fields instead of the hunting-grounds of the Indian and the trapper.
"No enterprise, unless it be the Atlantic telegraph, engages more deeply the public attention than a railroad communication with the Pacific coast.[[B]] The rapid settlement of Oregon and California, the constant communication by steam to the Pacific coast, render it easy now to feel the nearness of that region, and the oneness of the nationality which covers the continent. But to Astor's eye the thing was as palpable then as now. And yet but two or three attempts had then been made to explore the overland routes."
It would be deeply interesting to examine the details of this fast scheme of colonization and trade, for it is certain that Mr. Astor was as anxious to do an act which, by building up the continent, should hand his name down to posterity as a national benefactor, as to increase his business; but the limits of this article forbid more than a mere glance at the subject.
A company was formed, at the head of which stood Mr. Astor, and an elaborate and carefully-arranged plan of operations prepared. Two expeditions were dispatched to the mouth of the Columbia, one by land and the other by sea. Many hardships were encountered, but the foundation of a settlement was successfully made on the Columbia. In spite of the war with England (1812-15), which now occurred, the enterprise would have been successful had Mr. Astor's positive instructions been obeyed. They were utterly disregarded, however, and his partners and agents not only betrayed him in every instance, but sold his property to a rival British company for a mere trifle. His pecuniary loss was over a million of dollars, and his disappointment bitter beyond expression. When the enterprise was on the point of failure, and while he was still chafing at the conduct of his treacherous subordinates, he wrote to Mr. Hunt, the most faithful of all his agents: "Were I on the spot, and, had the management of affairs, I would defy them all; but as it is, every thing depends on you and your friends about you. Our enterprise is grand, and deserves success, and I hope in God it will meet it. If my object was merely gain of money, I should say, think whether it is best to save what we can, and abandon the place; but the very idea is like a dagger to my heart." When the news of the final betrayal reached him, he wrote to the same gentleman: "Had our place and property been fairly captured, I should have preferred it; I should not feel as if I were disgraced."
Mr. Astor remained in active business for fifty years. During that entire period he scarcely committed an error of judgment which led to a loss in business. He was thorough master of every thing pertaining to his affairs, and his strength and accuracy of judgment was remarkable. The particulars of his transactions were indelibly impressed upon his mind. His intellect was vigorous and quick, and he grasped a subject with a readiness which seemed like intuition. He was always careful of the present, but he loved to undertake enterprises which extended far into the future. He was a man of the utmost punctuality in all his habits. He rose early, and, until he was fifty-five years old, was always in his office before seven o'clock. His capacity for work was very great, so that, in spite of his heavy labors, he was always able to leave his office by two o'clock, while many of his associates, who really did less than he, were compelled to remain in their counting-rooms until four or five. He was noted for his unvarying calmness, which he doubtless owed to his German temperament. In the midst of disaster and loss he was cooler and more cheerful than ever. To those who chafed at their troubles, he would say, smilingly, "Keep quiet; keep cool." This was his safeguard.
He was a devoted citizen of the United States, and, though he took no active interest in politics, was a steady supporter of the Whig party. Henry Clay was his personal friend, and his last donation to any political cause was a subscription of fifteen hundred dollars to aid the election of his old friend to the Presidency.
About the year 1830, Mr. Astor, now the possessor of millions, began to withdraw from active business, confining his efforts chiefly to such investments as the management of his immense estate made necessary. He now put into execution an enterprise which he had long cherished. When a poor stranger in the city, he had once stopped in Broadway to notice a row of buildings which had just been erected, and which were considered the finest in the street, and had then made a vow that he would one day build a larger and finer house than any in Broadway. He now set to work to carry out the plan he had cherished ever since. He owned the entire block on Broadway, between Vesey and Barclay streets, with the exception of one house, which was the property of a Mr. Coster, a merchant who had amassed a large fortune and retired from business. Mr. Astor made him many offers for his house, but the old gentleman was unwilling to remove. Mr. Astor offered him the full value of his house, which was thirty thousand dollars, and increased the bid to forty thousand, but Mr. Coster was obstinate. At length Mr. Astor, in despair, was compelled to reveal his plan to his neighbor.
"I want to build a hotel," said he. "I have got all the other lots. Now name your own price."
Mr. Coster replied that he would sell for sixty thousand dollars if his wife would consent, and that Mr. Astor could see her the next morning. Mr. Astor was punctual to the appointment, and his offer was accepted by the good lady, who said to him, condescendingly, "I don't want to sell the house, but we are such old friends that I am willing for your sake."
Mr. Astor used to remark with great glee that any one could afford to exhibit such condescension after receiving double the value of a piece of property.
Having got possession of the entire block, he commenced the demolition of the old buildings, and on their site reared the Astor House, then the largest and most elegant hotel in the country. This building, when completed, he gave to his eldest son, William B. Astor.
In 1832, Mr. Astor sailed for Europe to visit one of his daughters, who had married a nobleman, and remained abroad until 1835. In that year he was compelled to return home by the action of General Jackson with regard to the Bank of the United States. "He reached Havre," says Mr. Parton, "when the ship, on the point of sailing, had every stateroom engaged, but he was so anxious to get home, that the captain, who had commanded ships for him in former years, gave up to him his own stateroom. Head winds and boisterous seas kept the vessel beating about and tossing in the channel for many days. The great man was very sick, and still more alarmed. At length, being persuaded that he should not survive the voyage, he asked the captain to run in and set him ashore on the coast of England. The captain dissuaded him. The old man urged his request at every opportunity, and said, at last, 'I give you tousand dollars to put me aboard a pilot boat.' He was so vehement and importunate, that one day the captain, worried out of all patience, promised him that if he did not get out of the channel before next morning, he would run in and put him ashore. It happened that the wind changed in the afternoon and wafted the ship into the broad ocean. But the troubles of the sea-sick millionaire had only just begun. A heavy gale of some days' duration blew the vessel along the western coast of Ireland. Mr. Astor, now thoroughly panic-stricken, offered the captain ten thousand dollars if he would put him ashore anywhere on the wild and rocky coast of the Emerald Isle. In vain the captain remonstrated. In vain he reminded the old gentleman of the danger of forfeiting his insurance.
"'Insurance!' exclaimed Astor, 'can't I insure your ship my self?'
"In vain the captain mentioned the rights of the other passengers. In vain he described the solitary and rock-bound coast, and detailed the dangers and difficulties which attended its approach. Nothing would appease him. He said he would take all the responsibility, brave all the perils, endure all the consequences, only let him once more feel the firm ground under his feet. The gale having abated, the captain yielded to his entreaties, and engaged, if the other passengers would consent to the delay, to stand in, and put him ashore. Mr. Astor went into the cabin, and proceeded to write what was expected to be a draft for ten thousand dollars in favor of the owners of the ship on his agent in New York. He handed to the captain the result of his efforts. It was a paper covered with writing that was totally illegible.
"'What is this?' asked the captain.
"'A draft upon my son for ten thousand dollars,' was the reply.
"'But no one can read it.'
"'O yes, my son will know what it is. My hand trembles so that I can not write any better.'
"'But,' said the captain, 'you can at least write your name. I am acting for the owners of the ship, and I can not risk their property for a piece of paper that no one can read. Let one of the gentlemen draw up a draft in proper form; you sign it, and I will put you ashore.'
"The old gentleman would not consent to this mode of proceeding, and the affair was dropped."
During the last twenty years of his life Mr. Astor lived in the retirement of his family, leaving even the greater part of the management of his estate to the hands of others. He was exceedingly fond of literary men. Irving was his friend, and Halleck his business manager. He died at the age of eighty-four years and eight months, literally from old age. He was buried in St. Thomas's Church, on Broadway.
His immense estate was left to his children, the bulk of it being bequeathed to his eldest son. All of his relatives were made comfortable. The village of Waldorf, his native place, received a legacy of fifty thousand dollars for the benefit of its poor, and an amount in land and funds equal to four hundred thousand dollars was left to certain trustees to establish the Astor Library in the city of New York. Besides these, several charitable and benevolent associations received handsome donations from him.
His career has been related in these pages as an example to those who are seeking to rise in legitimate commerce. It is the Best instance on record of the facility with which success may be won by patient and intelligent industry. In his capacity for grasping and carrying out an enterprise, in his prudent and economical management of his business, in his tact, courage, sagacity, Mr. Astor's example is one which will lead many to success, and none to injury.
He was a thoroughly upright man, his transactions were rigidly honest; but as a man, candor compels the acknowledgment that he was not a safe or admirable model. He was utterly devoid of generosity. Liberal to an extreme with his own family, he was close and hard with others. He paid small wages to his employés and never gave more than the man bargained for, no matter what extra service might be rendered. He carried his economy to a degree of meanness painful to contemplate. At his death, out of his vast estate, he left to his friend and faithful manager an annuity of only two hundred dollars, which his son increased to fifteen hundred.
One of his captains once succeeded in saving for him property in China to the amount of seven hundred thousand dollars, which had become jeopardized by the sudden death of the agent in charge of it. This service was purely voluntary, and was one which required the greatest skill, determination, and courage on the part of the captain, and Astor acknowledged it, frequently saying: "If you had not done just as you did, I should never have seen one dollar of my money; no, not one dollar of it." This was the only acknowledgment he made, however. He was worth ten millions of dollars, and the captain had only his pay—twelve hundred dollars a year—and a family. At his father's death Mr. William B. Astor sent a considerable sum to the old seaman in return for this service.
"We have all heard much of the closeness, or rather the meanness, of this remarkable man. Truth compels us to admit that he was not generous, except to his own kindred. His liberality began and ended in his own family. Very seldom during his lifetime did he willingly do a generous act, outside of the little circle of his relations and descendants. To get all he could, and to keep nearly all that he got—those were the laws of his being.... He enjoyed keenly the consciousness, the feeling, of being rich. The roll-book of his possessions was his Bible. He scanned it fondly, and saw, with quiet but deep delight, the catalogue of his property lengthening from month to month. The love of accumulation grew with his years, until it ruled him like a tyrant. If at fifty he possessed his millions, at sixty-five his millions possessed him. Only to his own children and to their children was he liberal; and his liberality to them was all arranged with a view to keeping his estate in the family, and to cause it at every moment to tend toward a final consolidation in one enormous mass."
This is the estimate of his character formed by Mr. James Parton. His friend Dr. Coggswell presents him in quite a different light. He says:
"Mr. Astor lived to the good old age of four score and four years and eight months. For some years previous to his death, which happened March 29, 1848, his manly form was bowed down by age, and his bodily strength greatly enfeebled, but his mind retained much of its original Vigor and brightness. Considering his extraordinary activity until a late period of his life, he submitted to the helplessness of age with uncommon resignation. When his impaired eye-sight no longer permitted him to read, his principal relief from the wearisomeness of unoccupied time was in the society of his friends and near relatives. All who knew him well were strongly attached to him, and none but those who were ignorant of his true character believed him unamiable and repulsive.
"His smile was peculiarly benignant and expressive of genuine kindness of heart, and his whole manner cordial and courteous to every one entitled to his respect. There was something so impressive in his appearance, no one could stand before him without feeling that he was in the presence of a superior intelligence. His deep, sunken eye, beneath his overarched brow, denoted the prophetic—it might almost be said the inspired—mind within. Although he lived many years beyond the age when the grasshopper is a burden, and was the victim of much suffering, he did not murmur, nor did he become unreasonable and peevish. He was not wont to talk much on the subject of religion, or freely communicate his views in relation to the life beyond the grave; but it can not be doubted that such tranquility as he exhibited in his near approach to it must have been derived from 'that peace which the world can neither give nor take away,'"
Perhaps a medium between Mr. Parton's bitterness and Dr. Coggswell's enthusiasm will be as correct an estimate of his personal character as can be formed. It is a singular fact that Mr. Astor managed, in spite of the closeness which marked his operations, in spite of the small wages he paid, to inspire his employés with a zeal in his service that made them willing to undertake any thing, to endure any amount of labor, for him.
"He once lost seventy thousand dollars by committing a piece of petty injustice toward his best captain. This gallant sailor, being notified by an insurance office of the necessity of having a chronometer on board his ship, spoke to Mr. Astor on the subject, who advised the captain to buy one.
"'But,' said the captain, 'I have no five hundred dollars to spare for such a purpose; the chronometer should belong to the ship.'
"'Well,' said the merchant, 'you need not pay for it now; pay for it at your convenience,'
"The captain still objecting, Astor, after a prolonged higgling, authorized him to buy a chronometer and charge it to the ship's account, which was done.
"Sailing day was at hand. The ship was hauled into the stream. The captain, as is the custom, handed in his account. Astor, subjecting it to his usual close scrutiny, observed the novel item of five hundred dollars for the chronometer. He objected, averring that it was understood between them that the captain was to pay for the instrument. The worthy sailor recalled the conversation, and firmly held to his recollection of it. Astor insisting on his own view of the matter, the captain was so profoundly disgusted that, important as the command of the ship was to him, he resigned his post. Another captain was soon found, and the ship sailed for China.
"Another house, which was then engaged in the China trade, knowing the worth of this 'king of captains,' as Astor himself used to style him, bought him a ship and dispatched him to Canton two months after the departure of Astor's vessel. Our captain, put upon his mettle, employed all his skill to accelerate the speed of his ship, and had such success that he reached New York, with a full cargo of tea, just seven days after the arrival of Mr. Astor's ship. Astor, not expecting another ship for months, and therefore sure of monopolizing the market, had not yet broken bulk, nor even taken off the hatchways. Our captain arrived on a Saturday. Advertisements and handbills were immediately issued, and on the Wednesday morning following, as the custom then was, the auction sale of the tea began on the wharf—two barrels of punch contributing to the eclat and hilarity of the occasion. The cargo was sold to good advantage, and the market was glutted. Astor lost in consequence the entire profits of the voyage, not less than the sum previously named. Meeting the captain some time after in Broadway, he said:
"'I had better have paid for that chronometer of yours,'"
Yet he could do a kind act when he was in the humor. When he was poor and struggling for fortune, he had a friend in the city named Pell, a coachmaker. As he advanced in the world he lost sight of his friend. One day a young man called on him to ask if he would sell one of his leases which he (the visitor) then held. He replied promptly and decidedly that he would not sell.
"But what is your name?" he asked.
"It is Pell," was the reply.
"Pell—Pell—" said the old man, hesitating a moment, "I knew a man by that name once; he was a dear friend of mine, but I have not seen him for years."
"That man," said the visitor, "was my father."
"Indeed," exclaimed the old man, warmly; "your father? Why, he used to give me rides in his coaches. How I should like to see him."
Then pausing a moment, and smiling as he recalled the past to his mind, he said:
"You shall have the lease, young man. Go home, have the papers drawn, come here at eleven o'clock on Thursday, and I'll sign them. But don't put in any consideration."
The engagement was kept punctually by both parties.
"Have you got the papers?" asked the merchant. "Did you put in the consideration? Well, let it be one hundred dollars. Have you got the money about you? Well, no matter, Bruce will keep the lease till you come and pay. I've given you two thousand dollars, young man. Don't you buy any more, for I sha'n't do it again. You tell your father that I remember him, and that I have given you two thousand dollars."
Mr. Astor dearly liked a joke, and occasionally indulged in a sly bit of humor himself. On one occasion a committee called upon him to solicit a donation for some charitable object. The old man took the subscription list, and, after examining it, signed it and gave the committee a check for fifty dollars. They had expected much more, and one of them ventured to say:
"We did hope for more, Mr. Astor. Your son gave us a hundred dollars."
"Ah!" replied the old man, dryly, "William has a rich father. Mine was very poor."
Footnote B: [(return)]
The reader will bear in mind that the above extract was written in 1857.
CHAPTER III.
ALEXANDER T. STEWART.
In the year 1818, a European vessel anchored in the harbor of New York, after a long and weary voyage from the Old World. She brought many passengers to the young metropolis, the majority of whom came with the intention of seeking fortunes in this land of promise.
Among them was a young Irishman who had left his home in his native land to seek in America the means of bettering his condition. This was Alexander T. Stewart. He was the son of Scotch-Irish parents, and was born in Belfast in 1802. Being only three years old when his father died, his grandfather took charge of him, and proved a kind and judicious guardian. As he was designed for the ministry by his relative, and as his own tastes inclined him to that profession, he was given a good common school education, and placed at college, where he made favorable progress in his class. He was particularly successful in the classics, and is said to retain his relish for them at the present day.
During his second term his grandfather died, and he was by this event obliged to leave college. Abandoning the idea of entering the ministry, he embarked for America, determined to make a fortune in the New World. He came sufficiently supplied with ready money to insure him against immediate want, and with letters of introduction which at once secured him an excellent social position.
After trying in vain for some time to secure employment in a business house, he obtained a position as assistant in a commercial school. This he soon resigned for a similar place in a more celebrated school. His salary here was $300, which was considered ample compensation in those days.
Not wishing to continue in this career, however, he opened a small retail dry goods store in New York, and began business on a humble scale. Here he remained until the age of twenty-one, manifesting no extraordinary business capacity, and in no way distinguished from the many small dealers around him. Upon reaching his majority he returned to Ireland, to look after the inheritance left him by his grandfather. The amount which thus came to him was nearly one thousand pounds, and the greater part of this he invested in "insertions" and "scollop trimmings," which he shipped to America by the vessel in which he returned. He rented a little store, on his return, at 283 Broadway, and there displayed his stock, which met with a ready sale at a fair profit.
Without mercantile experience, and possessing little advantage, save his own Scotch-Irish energy and courage, Mr. Stewart started boldly on what proved the road to fortune. No young merchant ever worked harder than he. From fourteen to eighteen hours each day were given to his business. He was his own book-keeper, salesman, and porter. He could not afford to employ help. Credit was hard to obtain in those days, and young merchants were not favorites with those who had such favors to bestow. Mr. Stewart was one of the least favored, inasmuch as he was almost a total stranger to the business community in which he lived. He kept a small stock of goods on hand, which he purchased for cash chiefly at the auction sales. He was a regular attendant at these sales, and his purchases were invariably "sample lots"—that is, collections of small quantities of various articles thrown together in confusion, and sold in heaps for what they would bring. He had these purchases conveyed to his store, and after the business of the day was over, he and his wife would take these "sample lots," and by carefully assorting them, bring order out of the confusion. Every article was patiently gone over. Gloves were redressed and smoothed out, laces pressed free from the creases which careless bidders had twisted into them, and hose made to look as fresh as if they had never been handled. Each article being good in itself, was thus restored to its original excellence. The goods were then arranged in their proper places on the shelves of the store, and by being offered at a lower price than that charged by retail dealers elsewhere in the city, met with a ready sale. Even at this low price the profit was great, since they had been purchased for a mere trifle. For six years Mr. Stewart continued to conduct his business in this way, acquiring every day a larger and more profitable trade. Here he laid down those principles of business and personal integrity from which he has never departed, and which have led-him to the honorable position he now holds.
"His first rule was honesty between seller and buyer. His career is a perfect exemplification of Poor Richard's maxim: 'Honesty is the best policy,' and of the poet's declaration: 'Nothing can need a lie,' His interest consorted with his inclination, his policy with his principles, and the business with the man, when he determined that the truth should be told over his counter, and that no misrepresentation of his goods should be made. He never asked, he never would suffer, a clerk to misrepresent the quality of his merchandise. Clerks who had been educated at other stores to cheat customers, and then to laugh off the transaction as 'cuteness,' or defend it as 'diamond cut diamond,' found no such slipshod morality at Stewart's little store, and learned frankness and fairness in representation at the peril of dismissal. Their employer asked no gain from deceit in trade. On his part, too, in buying, he rarely gave a seller a second opportunity to misrepresent goods to him.
"A second innovation of the young dry goods dealer was selling at one price—a custom which has also lasted without interruption, and which has spread to all the great houses. He fixed his price, after careful consideration, at what he thought the goods could and would bring, and would not deviate from it for any haggling, or to suit individual cases. Of course, he followed the fluctuations of the market, and marked his goods up or down in accordance with it; but no difference in the price was made to different people. Perhaps those who had some art in 'beating down' prices were offended, but people in general were pleased.
"The third principle he adopted was that of cash on delivery. It is said that his own early experience of buying on credit, and selling on credit, drove him to this rule.
"A fourth principle with him was to conduct business as business—not as sentiment. His aim was honorable profit, and he had no purpose of confusing it by extraneous considerations."
While still engaged in his first struggles in his little store, Mr. Stewart found himself called on to make arrangements to pay a note which would soon become due. It was for a considerable sum, and he had neither the money nor the means of borrowing it. It was a time when the mercantile community of New York regarded a failure to pay a note as a crime, and when such a failure was sure to bring ruin to any new man. Mr. Stewart knew this, and felt that he must act with greater resolution and daring than he had ever before exhibited, if he would save himself from dishonor. To meet the crisis he adopted a bold and skillful maneuver. He marked down every article in his store far below the wholesale price. This done, he had a number of handbills printed, announcing that he would sell off his entire stock of goods below cost, within a given time. He scattered these handbills broadcast through the city, and it was not long before purchasers began to flock to his store to secure the great bargains which his advertisements offered them. His terms were "cash," and he had little difficulty in selling. Purchasers found that they thus secured the best goods in the market at a lower figure than they had ever been offered before in New York, and each one was prompt to advise relatives and friends to avail themselves of the favorable opportunity. Customers were plentiful; the little Broadway store was thronged all day, and long before the expiration of the period he had fixed for the duration of his sales, Mr. Stewart found his shelves empty and his treasury full. He paid his note with a part of the money he had thus received, and with the rest laid in a fresh stock of goods. He was fortunate in his purchases at this time, for, as the market was extremely dull and ready money scarce, he, by paying cash, bought his goods at very low prices.
The energy, industry, patience, and business tact displayed by Mr. Stewart during these first years of his commercial life brought him their sure reward, and in 1828, just six years after commencing business, he found his little store too small and humble for the large and fashionable trade which had come to him. Three new stores had just been erected on Broadway, between Chambers and Warren Streets, and he leased the smallest of these and moved into it. It was a modest building, only three stories high and but thirty feet deep, but it was a great improvement on his original place. He was enabled to fill it with a larger and more attractive stock of goods, and his business was greatly benefited by the change. He remained in this store for four years, and in 1832 removed to a two-story building located on Broadway, between Murray and Warren Streets. Soon after occupying it, he was compelled, by the growth of his business, to add twenty feet to the depth of the store and a third story to the building. A year or two later a fourth story was added, and in 1837 a fifth story, so rapidly did he prosper.
His trade was now with the wealthy and fashionable class of the city. He had surmounted all his early difficulties, and laid the foundation of that splendid fortune which he has since won. The majority of his customers were ladies, and he now resolved upon an expedient for increasing their number. He had noticed that the ladies, in "shopping," were given to the habit of gossiping, and even flirting with the clerks, and he adopted the expedient of employing as his salesmen the handsomest men he could procure, a practice which has since become common. The plan was successful from the first. Women came to his store in greater numbers than before, and "Stewart's nice young men" were the talk of the town.
The great crisis of 1837 found Mr. Stewart a prosperous and rising man, and that terrible financial storm which wrecked so many of the best of the city firms did not so much as leave its mark on him. Indeed, while other men were failing all around him, he was coining money. It had always been his habit to watch the market closely, in order to profit by any sudden change in it, and his keen sagacity enabled him to see the approach of the storm long before it broke, and to prepare for it.
He at once marked down all his goods as low as possible, and began to "sell for cost," originating the system which is now so popular. The prices were very low, and the goods of the best quality. Every body complained of the hard times, and all were glad to save money by availing themselves of "Stewart's bargains." In this way he carried on a retail cash trade of five thousand dollars per day in the midst of the most terrible crisis the country has ever seen. Other merchants were reduced to every possible expedient, and were compelled to send their goods to auction to be sold for what they would bring, so great was their need of ready money. Stewart attended all these auctions regularly, and purchased the goods thus offered. These he sold rapidly by means of his "cost system," realizing an average profit of forty per cent. It is said that he purchased fifty thousand dollars worth of silks in this way, and sold the whole lot in a few days, making a profit of twenty thousand dollars on the transaction. Thus he not only passed through the "crisis," but made a fortune in the midst of it.
From that time to the present day his march to fortune has been uninterrupted. Nearly a quarter of a century ago he purchased the property which is now the site of his wholesale store, and commenced to erect the splendid marble warehouse which he still occupies. His friends were surprised at his temerity. They told him it was too far up town, and on the wrong side of Broadway, but he quietly informed them that a few years would vindicate his wisdom, and see his store the center of the most flourishing business neighborhood of New York. His predictions have been more than realized.
He moved into his new store in 1846, and continued to expand and enlarge his business every year. Some years ago he purchased the old Ninth-Street Dutch Church and the lots adjacent to it, comprising the entire block lying between Ninth and Tenth Streets, Broadway and Fourth Avenue. When he found the retail trade going up town, and deserting its old haunts below Canal Street, he erected a fine iron building at the corner of Broadway and Tenth Street, to which he removed the retail department of his business, continuing his wholesale trade at his old store on Chambers Street. This new "upper store" has increased with the business. The building now covers the entire block upon which it is erected, and is the largest, most complete, and magnificent establishment of its kind in the world.
Though he took no active part in politics, he was too much interested in public affairs, by reason of his immense wealth, not to watch them closely. He was satisfied, some time before our late troubles began, that war must come, and quietly made contracts with nearly all the manufacturers for all their productions for a considerable period of time. Accordingly, when the war did come, it was found that nearly all the articles of clothing, blankets, etc., needed for the army had been monopolized by him. His profits on these transactions amounted to many millions of dollars, though it should be remarked that his dealings with the Government were characterized by an unusual degree of liberality. The gains thus realized by him more than counterbalanced the losses he sustained by the sudden cessation of his Southern trade.
Fifty years have now passed away since the young school-teacher landed in New York, and he stands to-day at the head of the mercantile interests of the New World. In the half-century which has elapsed since then, he has won a fortune which is variously estimated at from twenty-five to forty millions of dollars. He has gained all this wealth fairly, not by trickery and deceit, or even by a questionable honesty, but by a series of mercantile transactions the minutest of which bears the impress of his sterling integrity, and by a patience, energy, tact, and genius of which few men are possessed. Surely, then, it must be a proud thought to him that he has done all this himself, by his own unaided efforts, and that amid all his wonderful success there does not rest one single stain upon his good name as a man or a merchant.
It is said that Mr. Stewart regards himself as a "lucky man," rather than as one who has risen by the force of his own genius. A writer in the New York Herald relates the following incident, as illustrative of the superstition which this feeling of "luck" has given rise to with him: "When he kept his store on Broadway, between Murray and Warren Streets, there sat on the sidewalk before it, on an orange box, an old woman, whose ostensible occupation was the selling of apples. This business was, however, merely a pretense; the main object being beggary. As years rolled on, Mr. Stewart became impressed with the idea that the old dame was his guardian angel of good luck, and this impression took so firm a hold upon his mind that when he removed to Chambers Street, he, in person, took up the old woman's box, and removed her to the front of his new establishment. In further illustration of Mr. Stewart's faith in the Irish traditional belief in 'lucky' and 'unlucky' persons, it may be mentioned that, after the completion of the St. Nicholas Hotel in this city, an undertaking in which he was largely interested, and when the building was just about to be opened for the reception of guests, the millionaire, standing in the drawing-room, ejaculated, 'It is now finished; I hope its first visitors may be lucky people.'
"A gentleman present, who had heard of Mr. Stewart's care for the aged apple vendor, remarked, 'I presume, sir, you do not in reality care about lucky or unlucky persons;' to which he immediately replied, 'Indeed, I do. There are persons who are unlucky. I sometimes open a case of goods, and sell the first from it to some person who is unlucky, and lose on it to the end. I frequently see persons to whom I would not sell if I could avoid it.'"
The first incident, if true, doubtless illustrates the quiet kindness with which Mr. Stewart watches over the poor that he takes under his care—and they are many. He has won his success too fairly to be a believer in mere luck. There is no such thing as chance in this world. Men are the architects of their own fortunes.
One of the principal reasons of his success is the rigid system with which he conducts his business. He has a place for every thing, and a time for every duty, and requires the same regularity from his subordinates. His salesmen and managers are thoroughly versed in their duties, and the more important of them are selected with great care. Every thing works smoothly under the master's eye, and there is a penalty for each and every delinquency, which is rigidly exacted.
Mr. Stewart is one of the hardest workers in his establishment. His partners relieve him of the details, but the general management of his immense business he trusts to no other hands. His eye is on every thing. He is familiar with every detail, though he does not take upon himself its direction. He goes to his business between nine and ten in the morning, stopping first at his upper store. He makes a brief but thorough inspection here, and learns the general progress of the day, and then repairs to his lower or wholesale store, where he remains during business hours, and returns home between five and six in the afternoon, stopping again at the upper store. He works hard, and is never absent from his post unless detained by sickness.
His time is valuable, and he is not willing to waste it.
Many persons endeavor to see him merely to gratify their impertinent curiosity, and others wish to intrude upon him for purposes which would simply consume his time. To protect himself, he has been compelled to resort to the following expedient: A gentleman is kept on guard near the main door of the store, whose duty is to inquire the business of visitors. If the visitor wishes to see Mr. Stewart, the "sentinel" informs him that he must first state his business to him. If the visitor urges that it is private, he is told that Mr. Stewart has no private business. If his errand meets the approval of the gentleman on guard, he is allowed to go up stairs, where he is met by the confidential agent of the great merchant, to whom he must repeat the object of his visit. If this gentleman is satisfied, or can not get rid of the visitor, he enters the private office of his employer and lays the case before him. If the business of the visitor is urgent he is admitted, otherwise, he is refused an interview. If admitted, the conference is brief and to the point. There is no time lost. Matters are dispatched with a method and promptitude which astonish strangers. If the visitor attempts to draw the merchant into a friendly conversation, or indulges in useless complimentary phrases, after the matter on which he came is settled, Mr. Stewart's manner instantly becomes cold and repelling, and troublesome persons are sometimes given a hint which hastens their departure. This is his working time, and it is precious to him. He can not afford to waste it upon idlers. In social life he is said to be exceedingly affable.
The greater portion of Mr. Stewart's immense fortune is invested in real estate. Besides his two stores on Broadway, he owns the Metropolitan Hotel and the New York Theater, also on Broadway; nearly all of Bleecker Street from Broadway to Depauw Row, several churches, a number of buildings, and many valuable lots. He resides at the north-east corner of the Fifth Avenue and Thirty-fourth Street. Immediately opposite he is building one of the finest residences in the world, and the most superb in America. He owns more real estate than any man in America except William B. Astor, and is the most successful merchant in the world.
Mr. Stewart is said to be extremely liberal in his donations to objects which meet with his sympathy. The majority of these donations are quietly made, as he has a repugnance to public charities. He gave liberally to the cause of the Union during the war. During that struggle he sent a cargo of provisions to Ireland, where much distress existed, and then invited as many emigrants as the vessel would carry to take passage to America in her, free of charge. One hundred and thirty-nine persons availed themselves of his offer, and upon reaching America were all provided with good situations by him. At present he is engaged in erecting on the Fourth Avenue a large building, in which homes will be provided for poor working females, at a small expense to them. It is said that this noble project will require an outlay of several millions of dollars. His friends—and he has many—speak of him as exceedingly kind and liberal, and seem much attached to him.
As I have said before, Mr. Stewart has not cared for political distinction, but has rather shunned it. He was a member of the Union Defense Committee during the war, and in 1866 was one of the signers of the Saratoga address, calling on the people of the country to sustain the policy of President Johnson. His warm friendship for General Grant caused him to be one of the earliest advocates of the election of the latter to the Presidency. He was a candidate for Presidential Elector on the Republican ticket for the State of New York, but was defeated, with his associates, by the Democracy.
His intimate relations with General Grant, together with his vast financial experience, induced many persons to believe that he would be offered a place in the Cabinet of the new President. These expectations were realized by his nomination to the post of Secretary of the Treasury, on the 5th of March, 1869, and his immediate and unanimous confirmation by the Senate. He was about to enter upon his new duties, when it was discovered that there existed an old and almost forgotten law forbidding any merchant from becoming the head of the Treasury Department. As soon as this discovery was made, Mr. Stewart expressed his desire to withdraw from the position, and thus relieve the President of all embarrassment upon the subject, but the latter, wishing, if possible, to retain him in the Cabinet, urged him to delay his action, with the hope that the difficulty might be obviated. Willing to oblige his friend, and anxious to serve the country, Mr. Stewart consented to do this, but finding that certain persons were seeking to make his nomination a source of trouble to the Administration, offered either to resign the place or to relinquish his entire interest in his business during the period of his Secretaryship, and to donate his immense profits for that time to the poor of the city of New York. This sacrifice, he hoped, would render him eligible; but the President was unwilling to accept the princely offer—the noblest ever made by any man—and Mr. Stewart finally withdrew from the contest.
There can be no doubt that he would have been the best Secretary that could have been placed at the head of the Treasury. His great financial experience and his unquestioned ability were better qualifications than those possessed by any politician in the land. Perhaps the best proof of the satisfaction which his appointment produced in the minds of the thinking men of the country is the manner in which the news affected the money market. Gold fell as soon as the announcement was made.
Few strangers ever come to New York and depart without visiting Stewart's famous store at the corner of Tenth Street and Broadway. The lower, or wholesale store, is far more important to its owner; but it conducts its operations exclusively with dealers, and in such a quiet and systematic way that it seems to attract but little attention among the masses. It is the upper or retail store that is the wonder of the great city in which it is located.
It is constructed of iron, in the style of arcade upon arcade, and is lighted by numerous windows. It fronts two hundred feet on Broadway, and three hundred feet on Ninth and Tenth Streets. It covers an area of about two acres, is five stories and an attic in height, and has two cellars underneath. It is warmed by steam, and contains several steam-engines for hoisting goods, running the machines employed in the manufacturing department, and forcing water into the immense tank at the top of the building. Six elevators and several handsome stairways connect the various floors. Three of the elevators are used for conveying customers up and down, and the others for hoisting and lowering goods. The building is lighted by several thousand gas jets, which are all set aflame simultaneously by electricity.
The various floors, with the exception of the first, are broken only by a rotunda, which extends to the roof, and is inclosed at each floor by a massive iron balustrade. Leaning over one of these balustrades, and looking up or down, the sight is brilliant and attractive. Thousands of persons are scattered about the floors making purchases. Hundreds of clerks, salesmen, and cash boys are busy serving them, and the buzz and hum of human voices under the vast roof sounds like the droning of a hive of bees.
The service of this immense establishment is arranged as follows: There is one general superintendent, with nineteen assistants, each of whom is at the head of a department. Nine cashiers receive and pay out money; twenty-five book-keepers keep the record of the day; thirty ushers direct purchasers to the department they seek; two hundred cash boys receive the money and bring back the change of purchasers; four hundred and seventy clerks, a few of whom are females, make the sales of the day; fifty porters do the heavy work, and nine hundred seamstresses are employed in the manufacturing department. Besides these, there are usually about five hundred other persons employed about the establishment in various capacities, bringing the total strength of the personelle of the house to twenty-two hundred.
The accounts of each department are kept separate, and the sales of each for the day constitute a separate return. These sales will average something like the following figures:
| Silks | $15,000 |
| Dress goods | 6,000 |
| Muslins | 3,000 |
| Laces | 2,000 |
| Shawls | 2,500 |
| Suits | 1,000 |
| Calicoes | 1,500 |
| Velvets | 2,000 |
| Gloves | 1,000 |
| Furs | 1,000 |
| Hosiery | 600 |
| Boys' clothing | 700 |
| Notions | 600 |
| Embroideries | 1,000 |
| Carpets | 5,500 |
The total daily receipts average $60,000, and have been known to amount to $87,000.
Salaries of subordinate clerks range from $5 to $25 per week. The cash boys receive $5 per week. If not fined for misconduct they receive a reward of $1 per month, and a further reward of $5 at the end of each half year. They are promoted as fast as their conduct and vacancies in the force of salesmen will allow. The number of employés being so large, the proprietor is compelled to keep them under the constant espionage of two experienced detectives, and each evening when they leave the store they are required to do so through a private door on Ninth Street, where the detectives are stationed to see that none of them carry away articles which do not belong to them.
The number of visitors to the establishment in the busy season is very large. On special occasions, such as opening days, it is said to have reached fifty thousand, but the general average is placed at fifteen thousand, and they represent every grade in life. Rich and poor mingle here freely.
The floors are arranged simply, and with regard to business rather than for show, but every thing is elegant and tasteful. The sub-cellar is used as a store-room for goods in cases. Here the fabrics are opened and sent to their departments. The cellar is the carpet sales-room. The first floor is the general sales-room, and is the most attractive place in the building. It is three hundred feet long by two hundred wide, and is provided with one hundred counters, each fifty feet in length. Behind these counters the goods are arranged, with no effort at display, on the shelves, which rise but a few feet above the counters. There is an abundance of light in all parts of the house, especially over the silk counters, which are just under the rotunda. The second floor is taken up with ladies' suits, shawls, curtain goods, etc., and the next floor is devoted to the same purpose. The fourth floor is used as a manufactory for making up the suits, etc., placed on sale or ordered by customers; on the fifth is the fur-room and upholstery manufactory; and the sixth is occupied as a laundry. The most perfect order is maintained in every part of the establishment, the mere direction of which requires administrative ability of a very high character.
As fast as the sales are made, the articles, unless taken away by the purchaser, are sent to the parcel desk, which is located in the cellar. This is the busiest department in the house, and one of the most important. Each order is accompanied by a ticket stating the quality and amount of the goods, the price, and the address of the purchaser. It is remeasured and examined here, so that any error on the part of the salesman may be detected and repaired. Errors of this kind, however, are rare, and the burden of the labor in this department consists of making the goods up into secure packages and sending them to their destinations. The tickets delivered at the parcel desk are then sent to the checking desk, which is also in the basement, where they are compared with those delivered by the salesmen to the cashiers, and if no error is discovered, the goods are sent to the wagons for delivery.
The wagon department constitutes a very important branch of the business. The vehicles and horses are accommodated in a fine stable on Amity Street, near Broadway. The building was formerly a Baptist church, and was presided over by the Rev. Dr. Williams. When the congregation went higher up town, they sold the old church, which found a purchaser in Mr. Stewart. He converted it into a stable, and has since more than doubled its size. The floor was taken up, a sewer built to carry off the waste water, and the place paved with brick and cement. It is now one of the best stables in the city. It contains over forty horses, and five grooms are on hand to attend to them. There are eight wagons employed at the up-town store to deliver parcels to purchasers, while thirteen single wagons are used by the lower store to cart single cases around town. In addition to these, there are ten double trucks to haul heavy goods. Twenty-seven drivers are employed, and thirteen hundred bushels of oats and fifty tons of hay are fed out during a year. The place is in charge of a watchman at night, and during the day is managed by a superintendent. At half-past eight the trucks report at the down-town store, and remain there all day. At the same moment one of the light wagons is dispatched to the retail store, and at once takes out the early sales. In an hour another wagon follows it, and this course is pursued all day until six o'clock, when the last wagon takes the last sales. By this system purchasers receive their parcels with dispatch, and the immense business of the day is entirely finished. Every week the superintendent of the stables makes a report of the condition of the horses and wagons, and this "stable report" is carefully inspected at head-quarters. In case of sickness or stubborn lameness, the horses are sent to the country to recruit.
Mr. Stewart has a farm at Tuckahoe, where the invalid horses are kept, and where much of their provender is raised. This farm is noted for the valuable marble quarry which furnished the stone from which his new mansion on Fifth Avenue is built.
The retail store contains fabrics of every description and price. The wife of a millionaire can gratify her fancy here to its utmost limit, while the poor sewing-girl can obtain her simple necessities at the same price which is demanded for them from the rich. In the shawl department, there are "wraps" worth as much as $4,500, but not more than one or two find a purchaser in the course of a year. Shawls at $3,000 find a sale of about twenty a year, and the number of purchasers increases as the price diminishes. The wealthy ladies of New York deal here extensively. One of the clerks of the establishment recently made a statement that a fashionable lady ran up a bill of $20,000 here in two months.
Mr. Stewart, though leaving the details of the retail business in the hands of Mr. Tuller, the general superintendent, yet keeps himself thoroughly informed respecting it, and exercises over it a general supervision, to which its increasing success is due. He knows exactly what is in the house, how much is on hand, and how it is selling. He fixes the prices himself, and keeps them always at a popular figure. He is said to have an aversion to keeping goods over from one season to another, and would rather sacrifice them than do so. He has no dead stock on hand. His knowledge of the popular taste and its variations is intuitive, and his great experience enables him to anticipate its changes.
"There can not be so much selling without proportionate buying, and Stewart is as systematic in the latter as the former. Of late he has not acted personally in making purchases, but has trusted to the system which he organized some years ago, and which he has found to admirably answer as his substitute. He has branch establishments exercising purchasing functions only in Boston and Philadelphia, in the United States; in Manchester, England; and in Paris and Lyons, France. But while these are his agencies, his buyers haunt the marts of the whole world. There is no center of commerce or manufacture of the wide range of articles in which he deals, on either of the continents, where he is not always present by deputy to seize upon favorable fluctuations of the market, or pounce upon some exceptionally excellent productions. He owns entire the manufactory of the celebrated Alexandre kid-glove. He has a body of men in Persia, organized under the inevitable superintendent, chasing down the Astrachan goat heavy with young, from which the unborn kids are taken and stripped of their skins, thus sacrificing two animals for every skin obtained. He rifles Lyons of its choicest silks, the famous productions of Bonnet and Ponson. Holland and Ireland yield him the first fruits of their looms. Belgium contributes the rarest of her laces, and the North sends down the finest of its Russian sables. All the looms of France, England, Belgium, and the United States are closely watched, and the finest fabrics in dress goods, muslins, carpets, and calicoes are caught up the moment the workmen put on the finishing touches. He buys for cash the world over, and is a customer every-where so recognized as desirable that he has his choice of industrial productions, and on more advantageous terms than his rivals can purchase what he leaves. He has been so long in the business, and has become so thoroughly versed in the productions of different looms in different countries, that it is now his practice to select certain mills noted for excellence of work, and take their entire supply, and thus it happens that there are many looms in the busiest haunts of the Old and New Worlds that toil unceasingly on his account.
"By buying thus largely in foreign lands, he is, of course, the largest importer in the nation, and his duties average $30,000 gold per day. Every year his business steadily increases, and there is apparently no practical limit at which it will stop. As prudent in vast affairs as other men are in small, he insures liberally, and has policies renewed every third day throughout the year. But, while leaning upon the insurance companies, he is utterly independent of the banks; he has never asked one of them to 'carry' him through a crisis, and should such a contingency arise, there is no bank in the world competent to the task."
Mr. Stewart is now sixty-eight years old, but looks much younger, being still as vigorous and active, both mentally and physically, as most men of forty-five. He is of the medium size, has light-brown hair and beard, which are closely trimmed. His features are sharp, well cut, his eye bright, and his general expression calm and thoughtful. His manner is reserved, and to all but his intimate friends cold. He dresses with great simplicity, but with taste, and in the style of the day. His habits are simple, and he avoids publicity in all things. Standing as he does at the head of the mercantile interests of the country, he affords a fine example of the calm and dignified manner in which a man of true merit may enjoy his legitimate success, and of the good use he may make of its fruits.
CHAPTER IV.
AMOS LAWRENCE.
AMOS LAWRENCE was born at Groton, Massachusetts, on the 22d of April, 1786. His ancestor came of a good English family, and was one of the company which sailed from England for the New World under Governor Winthrop, in 1630, and which, according to Grahame, contained "several wealthy and high-born persons, both men and women, who expressed their determination to follow truth and liberty into a desert, rather than to enjoy all the pleasures of the world under the dominion of superstition and slavery." This Lawrence settled in Watertown, and was one of the original proprietors of the town of Groton, which was founded in 1655. Samuel Lawrence, the father of the subject of this memoir, was the fifth in descent from the founder of the family, and was himself a gallant officer of the American army in the War of the Revolution, the close of which found him the possessor of a small farm, which yielded a modest support for his family.
Young Amos was brought up on the farm, with none of the advantages of wealth, and with but a limited education, which he gained at the village schools, and which was seriously interfered with by his delicate health. He received his final training at the Groton Academy, to which, in after life, he became a liberal patron. "As we children came forward," he wrote, late in life, "we were carefully looked after, but were taught to use the talents intrusted to us; and every nerve was strained to provide for us the academy which is now doing so much there." Toward the close of the year 1799, when but a little over thirteen years of age, he took his final departure from school, and entered a store in the village of Dunstable, as clerk.
He remained there but a few months, and then returned to Groton, where he obtained a place as apprentice in the store of a Mr. Brazer. This was the largest establishment in the place, and conducted a very important trade with the country for miles around. Boston was so far, and so difficult to reach in those days, that Groton came in for nearly all the business of its vicinity which the railroads have now taken to the city. Mr. Brazer's establishment, which was known as a "variety store," came in for the best part of this trade. Every thing was sold there; "puncheons of rum and brandy, bales of cloth, kegs of tobacco, with hardware and hosiery, shared attention in common with silks and threads, and all other articles for female use." Even medicines were sold there; and Dr. Wm. B. Lawrence, the son of our hero, assures us that his father was obliged to sell medicines, not only to customers, but to all the physicians within a circuit of twenty miles, who depended on this establishment for their supplies. "The confidence in his good judgment," he adds, "was such that he was often consulted in preference to the physician, by those who were suffering from minor ails; and many were the extemporaneous doses which he administered for the weal or woe of the patient."
The Brazer store was a prominent feature in Groton. It was a place of general resort, and close by was the tavern where the mail coaches stopped. Travelers were constantly passing through the town, bringing the news of those stirring days when Napoleon was rushing over Europe with his armies, overturning old states and building up new ones, and changing the destinies of the world. The domestic politics of the day were exciting, and it is likely that they aided, together with the events in the Old World, in imparting to the character of Mr. Lawrence the earnestness and gravity for which he was noted when a mere lad.
Mr. Brazer had in his employ a number of clerks, but it was not long before the energy and business talent of young Lawrence made him the most trusted of all. Mr. Brazer did not give much personal attention to the store, and when he found that his young clerk was so admirable and reliable a manager, he left the business entirely in his hands. This was a post of unusual responsibility for one so young, but Amos Lawrence accepted it promptly, and labored to discharge its duties faithfully. He at once established the character for probity and fairness which distinguished him through life; his simple assertion was sufficient in any matter, being received with implicit trust by all who knew him. His duties kept him constantly employed, and though he lived within a mile of his father's house, weeks sometimes passed without giving him the opportunity of visiting it.
Drunkenness was at that day the curse of New England. Every body drank, and such fiery fluids as brandy, whisky, rum, and gin were the favorites. Men, women, and children were addicted to the vice, and Groton was no exception to the rule. Mr. Brazer's store was famous for the good liquors served out to its customers, and his clerks were aware that their employer did not object to their helping themselves when they felt thirsty. Amos Lawrence fell into the habit to which all were given, and for some time went along with the rest; but at length he came to the conclusion that such indulgence was wantonly ruining his health, and he resolved to abstain entirely. "We five boys," said he, years afterward, "were in the habit, every forenoon, of making a drink compounded of rum, raisins, sugar, nutmegs, etc., with biscuit—all palatable to eat and drink. After being in the store four weeks, I found myself admonished by my appetite of the approach of the hour for indulgence. Thinking the habit might make trouble if allowed to grow stronger, without further apology to my seniors, I declined partaking with them. My first resolution was to abstain for a week, and, when the week was out, for a month, and then for a year. Finally, I resolved to abstain for the rest of my apprenticeship, which was for five years longer. During that whole period I never drank a spoonful, though I mixed gallons daily for my old master and his customers."
At the same time, Mr. Lawrence determined that he would not use tobacco in any form. He was very fond of the odor of "the weed," and at one period of his life always kept a fine Havana in his drawer that he might enjoy the scent of it; but he was totally free from our disgusting national vice in any of its forms. In this respect, as indeed in all others, he offers a fine example to the rising youth of the present generation.
On the 22d of April, 1807, Mr. Lawrence completed his twenty-first year, and his seven years' apprenticeship with Mr. Brazer came to an end. He was now of an age to enter into business for himself, and it was his intention to open a small store in Groton, in connection with a brother apprentice, but before doing so he decided to visit Boston for the purpose of establishing a credit. He reached the city with but twenty dollars in his pocket, richer, he subsequently declared, in his own estimation, than he ever felt before or afterward. While in the city, he received the offer of a clerkship from a mercantile house of good standing. It was entirely unsolicited, and took him by surprise, but he decided to accept it, and abandoned his idea of going into business for himself in Groton; and this act led to a career entirely different from that to which he had looked forward.
Boston, in 1807, had a population of about thirty thousand, and the commercial position of the city was relatively much greater than at present. The foreign trade of the United States was enormous, and was carried on in American ships, and not, as at present, in foreign vessels. The total tonnage of American shipping engaged in this trade was seven hundred thousand tons, and of this Boston possessed a fair share. Her domestic trade was also important.
"The merchants of Boston had then high places in the estimation of the world. The Perkinses, the Sargeants, the Mays, the Cabots, the Higginsons, and others, were known throughout the world for their integrity, their mercantile skill, and the extent and beneficial character of their operations. These were the golden days of Boston's commerce.... The standard of integrity was high, and though it would be absurd to suppose that there was not the usual amount of evil in the place, it may be assumed that in no part of the world was the young trader more likely to find severer judges of character and conduct, or to be better treated if he should afford unquestionable proofs of capacity and honesty."
It was into this community that Mr. Lawrence now entered, and in which his life was spent. He gave such satisfaction to his employers that, when he had been with them a short time, they astonished him with the offer of a partnership. He was but partially acquainted with their affairs, but their manner of conducting their business did not please him, and he declined their offer. His sagacity was verified by the result. In a few months the firm failed, and the creditors appointed him to settle their affairs, which he did to their satisfaction.
Being now out of employment, he resolved to commence business on his own account in Boston. He had made such a favorable impression upon the merchants of the city that he had no difficulty in obtaining credit. He rented a store in Cornhill, stocked it with dry goods, and began his career as a merchant. Four months after this, his father, who was keenly interested in his son's success, without consulting the latter, mortgaged his farm for one thousand dollars, and, repairing to Boston, placed the money in Amos Lawrence's hands. Mr. Lawrence was profoundly affected by this proof of his father's devotion, but he regretted it none the less, as he knew that his failure would bring ruin to his parent as well as to himself. "I told him," said he, forty years later, "that he did wrong to place himself in a situation to be made unhappy if I lost the money. He told me he guessed I wouldn't lose it, and I gave him my note." Mr. Lawrence made a prompt use of the money, and paid the mortgage at the proper time; but he had a narrow escape from loss, as the bank on which he had bills for the amount of the mortgage failed almost immediately after he had obtained specie for them.
"This incident," he said, "shows how dangerous it is to the independence and comfort of families for parents to take pecuniary responsibilities for their sons in trade, beyond their power of meeting them without embarrassment. Had any Hillsborough bank-notes not been paid as they were, nearly the whole amount would have been lost, and myself and my family might have been ruined. The incident was so striking that I have uniformly discouraged young men who have applied to me for credit, offering their fathers as bondsmen; and by doing so I believe I have saved some respectable families from ruin. My advice, however, has sometimes been rejected with anger. A young man who can not get along without such aid will not be likely to get along with it."
He began his business upon principles of prudence and economy, which he rigidly maintained throughout his whole life. He never allowed himself to anticipate his gains, and having fixed his personal expenses at a certain sum, he never went beyond it. His system, which is thus stated by himself, is offered here as a safe and admirable rule for all persons:
"When I commenced, the embargo had just been laid, and with such restrictions on trade that many were induced to leave it. But I felt great confidence that, by industry, economy, and integrity, I could get a living; and the experiment showed that I was right. Most of the young men who commenced at that period failed by spending too much money, and using credit too freely.
"I adopted the plan of keeping an accurate account of merchandise bought and sold each day, with the profit, as far as practicable. This plan was pursued for a number of years, and I never found my merchandise fall short in taking an account of stock, which I did as often at least as once in each year. I was thus enabled to form an opinion of my actual state as a business man. I adopted also the rule always to have property, after my second year's business, to represent forty per cent, at least more than I owed—that is, never to be in debt more than two and a half times my capital. This caution saved me from ever getting embarrassed. If it were more generally adopted, we should see fewer failures in business. Excessive credit is the rock on which so many business men are broken."
Mr. Lawrence was very successful from the first. His profits during his first year were fifteen hundred dollars, and over four thousand during the second. In seven years he made over fifty thousand dollars. He paid the closest attention to his business, and nothing could draw him from it in working hours. After these were over he would take his pleasure. His aim was to keep every thing in the most complete state possible. During the first seven years of his business he never allowed a bill against him to stand unsettled over the Sabbath. If he made a purchase of goods on Saturday, and they were delivered to him that day, he always examined and settled the bill by note, or by crediting it, and leaving it clear, so that there should be no unfinished business to go over to the next week, and make trouble for his clerks in case he should not be at his post. "Thus," said he, "I always kept my business before me, instead of allowing it to drive me."
The first years of Mr. Lawrence's mercantile experience covered the darkest period of the history of the Republic. They were marked by the embargo, the crippling of our commerce by the hostility of England and France, and the second war with Great Britain, in all of which there was much to dis-hearten a beginner, even if he escaped positive loss. Nothing was certain. The events of a single hour might undo the labor of years, and baffle the best laid plans. Yet he persevered, and went steadily on to fortune. He was remarkable for his keen foresight, as well as for his prudence, and was always on the alert to profit by the fluctuations of the market. Yet he abominated speculation. He averred that speculation made men desperate and unfit for legitimate business, and that it led them, when under excitement, to the commission of acts against which their cooler judgment would have warned them. The fair profits of legitimate business were, in his opinion, sure to reward any honest and capable man. His aim was to elevate commerce, and not to degrade it. He introduced into Boston the system of double-entry in book-keeping, in advance of any other city merchant. He was prompt and faithful in the performance of every contract, and required a similar course toward himself from all indebted to him, as long as they were able to do so. When they became unfortunate, he was kind and generous, ready to compromise upon the most liberal terms, or to give them their own time for payment; and it is recorded of him that he never dealt harshly with a debtor who had failed in business.
As long as such a course was necessary, Mr. Lawrence devoted himself entirely to his business, but after he had placed it on a safe footing, he was careful to reserve to himself time for other duties and for relaxation. No man, he said, had the right to allow his business to engross his entire life. "Property acquired at such sacrifices as I have been obliged to make the past year," he wrote at the commencement of 1826, "costs more than it is worth; and the anxiety in protecting it is the extreme of folly." He never lost sight of the fact that man is a responsible, intelligent being, placed in the world for other purposes than the mere acquisition of wealth.
In October, 1808, his brother, Abbott Lawrence, afterward famous as a merchant and statesman, came to him as an apprentice, and on the 1st of January, 1814, he was admitted to partnership, the style of the firm being A. & A. Lawrence. This partnership was terminated only by the death of the elder brother in 1852. Their business was the importation and sale of foreign manufactures, and the firm soon took its place at the head of the Boston merchants engaged in this trade. The tariffs of 1816 and 1824 gave a new and powerful impetus to the manufacture of woolens and cottons in this country, and the Lawrences entered largely into the sale of these goods on commission. In 1830, they became interested in the cotton mills at Lowell; and on the establishment of the Suffolk, Tremont, and Lawrence Companies, as well as subsequently in other corporations, they became large proprietors. From this time their business as selling agents was on the most extensive scale, and their income from all sources large in proportion. They amassed large fortunes, and won names which are the most precious heritages of their children.
Perhaps the best exposition of the principles upon which these brothers conducted their commercial operations is found in the following letter from the elder to the younger, written on the 11th of March, 1815, upon the occasion of a visit to England by the latter on business for the firm:
My Dear Brother—I have thought best, before you go abroad, to suggest a few hints for your benefit in your intercourse with the people among whom you are going. As a first and leading principle, let every transaction be of that pure and honest character that you would not be ashamed to have appear before the whole world as clearly as to yourself. In addition to the advantages arising from an honest course of conduct with your fellow-men, there is the satisfaction of reflecting within yourself that you have endeavored to do your duty; and however greatly the best may fall short of doing all they ought, they will be sure not to do more than their principles enjoin.
It is, therefore, of the highest consequence that you should not only cultivate correct principles, but that you should place your standard of action so high as to require great vigilance in living up to it.
In regard to your business transactions, let every thing be so registered in your books, that any person, without difficulty, can understand the whole of your concerns. You may be cut off in the midst of your pursuits, and it is of no small consequence that your temporal affairs should always be so arranged that you may be in readiness.
If it is important that you should be well prepared in this point of view, how much more important is it that you should be prepared in that which relates to eternity!
You are young, and the course of life seems open, and pleasant prospects greet your ardent hopes; but you must remember that the race is not always to the swift, and that, however flattering may be our prospects, and however zealously you may seek pleasure, you can never find it except by cherishing pure principles and practicing right conduct. My heart is full on this subject, my dear brother, and it is the only one on which I feel the least anxiety.
While here, your conduct has been such as to meet my entire approbation; but the scenes of another land may be more than your principles will stand against. I say may be, because young men of as fair promise as yourself have been lost by giving a small latitude (innocent in the first instance) to their propensities. But I pray the Father of all mercies to have you in his keeping, and preserve you amid temptations.
I can only add my wish to have you write me frequently and particularly, and that you will embrace every opportunity of gaining information.
Your affectionate brother,
Amos Lawrence.
To Abbott Lawrence.
In his politics, Mr. Lawrence was a Federalist, and then a Whig. He served for one term in the State Legislature as a Representative from Boston, with credit to himself, but afterward avoided any active participation in public events. When his nephew-by-marriage, General Pierce, was a candidate for the Presidency, he was very much gratified personally by the selection of the Democracy, but declined to vote for him. In a letter to a friend, written at this time, he said: "I had a charming ride yesterday with my nephew, Frank Pierce, and told him I thought he must occupy the White House the next term, but that I would go for Scott. Pierce is a fine, spirited fellow, and will do his duty wherever placed. Scott will be my choice for President of the United States."
Regarding himself as a steward of the riches committed to him, Amos Lawrence was liberal in his charities. During the last twenty-four years of his life he kept an accurate account of the sums he thus distributed, but with no idea that the statement, which he intended for his own eye only, would ever be made public. During this period he gave away six hundred and thirty-nine thousand dollars. The greater part of this was given away in ten years, and during a period when his average income was sixty thousand dollars a year. He was a liberal patron of education, giving large sums to its extension; and it was his delight to assist poor clergymen, without regard to denominations. He gave away clothing, food, books, etc., in large quantities, as well as ready money. "Two rooms in his house," says his son and biographer, "and sometimes three, were used principally for the reception of useful articles for distribution. There, when stormy weather or ill-health prevented him from taking his usual drive, he was in the habit of passing hours in selecting and packing up articles which he considered suitable to the wants of those whom he wished to aid." He did not forget the children, and many of his packages contained toys, and books, and other things calculated to promote their enjoyment.
He was beset with beggars of all kinds, many of whom he was compelled to refuse. In his diary, he wrote on the 11th of April, 1849, "Applications come in from all quarters, for all objects. The reputation of giving freely is a very bad reputation, so far as my personal comfort is concerned."
It pained him to have his charities made public, and he frequently requested the recipients to say nothing about them. He once made a present of some books to the Johnson school for girls, and the gift being acknowledged through the columns of a newspaper, he wrote to the principal of the school: "I merely want to say that I hope you will not put me in the newspaper at present, and when my work is done here, if you have any thing to say about me that will not hurt my children and grandchildren, say on," To another party he wrote: "I must request that my name be not thrust forward, as though I was to be a by-word for my vanity. I want to do good, but am sorry to be published, as in the recent case."
As a merchant, Mr. Lawrence was upright, prudent, far-seeing, sagacious, and courageous; as a citizen, he was patriotic, public-spirited, and devoted; and as a man, he was a sincere, earnest, Christian husband, father, and friend. Viewed in any light, his character affords one of the most perfect models to be found in our history. He was the Christian gentleman in all things, even in the minutest detail of his business. His standard was very high, but he came up to it. Courteous and dignified in manner, with a face handsome and winning in youth, and gentle and benignant in age, he made scores of friends wherever he went, for it was a true index to his character. It is a significant and interesting fact that, during the hottest passages of the old nullification times, although his views were known to be uncompromisingly opposed to the attitude of the South, he never lost the warmest friendship of some of the most advanced of the South Carolina leaders. When one thinks of the friendships that were wrecked amid the passions of those days, this fact speaks volumes for the personal attributes of Mr. Lawrence.
He was a true American—proud of his country's past, hopeful for her future, and desiring nothing better than to live and die in the land of his birth. He sent his children abroad that they might see the Old World, and profit by the lessons learned there, but he strove earnestly to keep them true to their country. To his son, who was traveling in France in 1829, he wrote:
"Bring home no foreign fancies which are inapplicable to our state of society. It is very common for our young men to come home and appear quite ridiculous in attempting to introduce their foreign fashions. It should be always kept in mind that the state of society is widely different here from that in Europe; and our comfort and character require it should long remain so. Those who strive to introduce many of the European habits and fashions, by displacing our own, do a serious injury to the republic, and deserve censure. An idle person, with good powers of mind, becomes torpid and inactive after a few years of indulgence, and is incapable of making any high effort. Highly important it is, then, to avoid this enemy of mental and moral improvement. I have no wish that you pursue trade; I would rather see you on a farm, or studying any profession.
"It should always be your aim so to conduct yourself that those whom you value most in the world would approve your conduct, if your actions were laid bare to their inspection; and thus you will be pretty sure that He who sees the motive of all our actions will accept the good designed, though it fall short in its accomplishment. You are young, and are placed in a situation of great peril, and are, perhaps, sometimes tempted to do things which you would not do if you knew yourself under the eye of your guardian. The blandishments of a beautiful city may lead you to forget that you are always surrounded, supported, and seen by that best Guardian."
He was an eminently just man, and he carried this trait into the little details of his domestic life. His household adored him; and his friends were bound to him by ties unusually strong. He was firm and positive in his own opinions; but he was tolerant of those who differed from him. He was a man of quick, nervous temperament, but he possessed a powerful self-control. He was a sincere and earnest Christian, and while attaching himself to the sect of his choice, his sympathies and aid went out to the whole Christian Church.
Denominational differences had no place in his heart. He stood on the broad platform of the "faith of Christ crucified."
During the last years of his life, Mr. Lawrence was a constant invalid. To a man of his temperament this was a great trial, but he bore it unflinchingly, exhibiting, in the long years of feeble health which preceded his death, a cheerfulness and patience which plainly showed the aid of the Arm on which he leaned for support. For sixteen years he did not take a meal with his family. His food and drink, of the simplest kind, were regularly weighed, a pair of scales being kept in his chamber for that purpose. He wrote to his friend President Hopkins, of Williams College: "If your young folks want to know the meaning of epicureanism, tell them to take some bits of coarse bread (one ounce or a little more), soak them in three gills of coarse meal gruel, and make their dinner of them, and nothing else; beginning very hungry, and leaving off more hungry."
Mr. Lawrence continued in this condition until December, 1852, when he was seized with a severe attack of the stomachic trouble to which he was a martyr. He died peacefully, on the last day of that month and year, at the age of sixty-six years, eight months, and eight days. He was buried in Mount Auburn Cemetery, and was followed to the grave by a host of friends who mourned him as a brother, and by strangers to whom his kindness in life had brought relief from many a care and suffering.
CHAPTER V.
ANDREW V. STOUT.
There are few men in the city of New York who have won more fairly their proud positions in the mercantile world than he whose name stands at the top of this page. For more than forty years he has carried on a large and increasing business with an energy, skill, and probity which could not fail of success.
Andrew V. Stout was born in the city of New York, at No. 6 Canal Street, or, as it was then called, Pump Street, about the year 1814. When he was scarcely more than a child he was left fatherless, and thrown upon his own resources for a living. He was a manly little fellow, and, young as he was, was fully alive to the importance of the position he was compelled to assume. He was resolved not only to support himself, but also to acquire a good education, and by studying hard while most boys are at play, mastered the ordinary English branches by the time he was twelve years old.
He had a mother and sister to support, and applied himself manfully to the task of accomplishing this. He was well grown for his age, and was generally supposed to be several years older than he really was. When he was fourteen years old he applied for and received a position as assistant teacher of the English branches in one of the public schools of the city. The trustees of the school supposed he was at least eighteen or nineteen years old. Had his true age been known to them, it is probable he would not have received the appointment. He was not questioned upon the subject, and he was wise enough to keep his own counsel. He performed the duties of his position to the entire satisfaction of the school officials, and made such a good impression on his friends that at the age of sixteen he was made assistant principal in one of the most important and popular private schools of the day, taught by Shepherd Johnson, a name well known to the old residents of New York.
He was very young to fill this position, and, as may be supposed, it was peculiarly trying to one whose learning was mainly self-acquired. He was determined to succeed, however, and he applied himself energetically to master the course he was teaching. He studied harder and more constantly than any of his pupils, and was always fresh on the lessons for the day.
When he was sixteen years old he was so well grown and so mature that he passed for twenty. Having succeeded so well in the management of his English classes, he was offered the position of instructor of Latin, with an increase of his salary. The offer at first dismayed him. He was thoroughly ignorant of the Latin language, and utterly unprepared for the duties demanded of him. He was very anxious to have the place, however, for he needed the increase of salary offered him, and, after hesitating a little while, accepted it. He purchased a Latin grammar, and engaged a private tutor. He studied hard, and soon mastered the rudiments of the language. In this way he managed to keep ahead of his classes. If a question was asked him which he could not answer, he postponed his reply, looked into the matter at night, and explained it the next morning. By such hard study and patient efforts did this boy, himself a mere novice, turn out what was admitted by all to be the best drilled Latin class Shepherd Johnson's school had ever boasted of.
When he was eighteen years old he was made principal of Public School No. 2 of New York. He was living at Bushwick, where he resided with his mother and sister in a cozy little cottage, the garden of which was his pride, since he tended it with his own hands. It was his custom to rise every morning at four o'clock, and work in his garden until seven. Then he rode into the city, and attended to his school duties until four o'clock, when he returned home.
He was now in possession of a comfortable living; but he was not satisfied to do this and nothing more. He was anxious to win fortune, to enter upon a more active and stirring pursuit, and he kept himself always on the watch for an opening. About the time he became the head of the public school we have referred to, he commenced to engage in various ventures of a commercial nature, devoting to them his evenings, and the hours of the day not demanded by his school.
One of his relatives was a builder, with a fair trade, and had made some money by erecting houses in New York. Young Stout, who had saved a little money, proposed to him that they should take out a contract for building a number of dwellings on the then fashionable thoroughfare of East Broadway. The elder man was pleased with the plan, and at once consented to it. The houses were built at a handsome profit; others followed them, and by attending closely to this business, as well as his other duties, Andrew Stout, by the time he was twenty years old, had saved seventeen thousand dollars—a very large sum in those steady-going days.
He was greatly aided by the custom of doing business on time, which then prevailed, but he never allowed one of his notes to be protested, and never asked for an extension. When he began business, he did so with the firm resolve that he would conduct his most insignificant transaction as a Christian man of honor. If he could not make money honestly, he would remain poor. Every body saw the energy and judgment with which he conducted his affairs, and the strict integrity which marked them all, and he was not long in building up a reputation as a business man of which any one might have been proud. The promptness and apparent ease with which he met every contract, and took up every note, caused it to be generally believed that he was a very rich man. Further than this, it was known that he was a zealous and earnest Christian, one who carried his religion into his business, and who lived up to his professions. He was an active member of the Methodist Church, and the business man of the congregation to which he belonged. In his hands its finances prospered as they had never done before. Such was the reputation of this young man, who had not yet attained his majority.
He held his position in the public school for several years after his appointment to it, but the requirements of his business at length compelled him to relinquish it.
In the midst of his prosperity Mr. Stout made one mistake. A friend with whom he had been interested in building wished to procure some money from the bank, and Mr. Stout was induced, with considerable reluctance, to indorse his note for five thousand dollars. One false step in business, as in other affairs of life, leads to another, and, in order to save this money, Mr. Stout was forced to renew his indorsements until his liabilities amounted to twenty-three thousand dollars. To his dismay he was now informed by the builder for whose sake he had incurred this risk, that he (the builder) had failed, without making provision for the payment of the notes, and that Mr. Stout would have to account to the bank for them.
"Several methods of relief were open to Mr. Stout. He was worth seventeen thousand dollars, which he had earned by nights of toil, by economy, and by daily and earnest attention to business. To pay the notes would not only sweep away every penny that he had, but would leave him six thousand dollars in debt. He had never realized one cent from the money, and his name was used simply to accommodate the builder. Besides, he was not of age, though nobody suspected that fact, and he could repudiate his debts as a minor. He took no counsel, made no statement of his affairs to any one, shut himself up in his own room, and considered thoughtfully what he should do, and then followed out the decision that he had reached. Having become bankrupt in money, he concluded he would not be so in character. He had earned seventeen thousand dollars, and could earn seventeen thousand dollars more. He did confide in one friend. He went to a relative, and asked him to lend him six thousand dollars, the sum necessary to take up all the notes. The relative was astonished at the request, and insisted upon knowing the facts in the case. Mr. Stout made a full and frank statement. It was met with the remark, 'Well, Andrew, I thought you would be a rich man, but if this is the way you do your business, you will never be worth any thing,' But Mr. Stout did not want preaching, he wanted money; and as the relative seemed to hesitate about loaning the money, as no security was offered, Mr. Stout curtly told him he could do as he pleased about it; he could get the money somewhere, and pay the notes. The money was promised, and he went on his way.
"The bank watched the young financier with a great deal of interest. The whole matter had been discussed often in the bank, and the wonder was how young Stout would meet the blow. It was supposed that he would ask for an extension; and it was agreed to give it to him, and to make the time of payment convenient to his ability. Had he proposed to compromise the matter by paying one-half, the bank would have accepted it. That would have left him a capital of nearly eight thousand dollars for a fresh start. Had he offered his seventeen thousand dollars on condition that he was released from all liability, the notes would have been canceled with alacrity. He did neither. He proposed no compromise, asked no extension, and attempted to negotiate no settlement. When the first note became due, he paid it. He did the same with the second and third. After the third payment, he was called into the office of the president. Reference was made to the notes, and to the fact that he had obtained no benefit from the money. The president told him the bank was ready to renew the notes, and to give him any accommodation that he might ask. Mr. Stout simply replied that the blow was a heavy one, but that having assumed the obligation, he should discharge it; that he asked no favors, and as the notes matured he should take them up. He paid every dollar due, and every one was certain that his wealth must be very large. His manliness, pluck, and integrity, which carried him through that crisis, became the sure foundation-stone on which his great fortune was laid. He took the front rank among successful financiers, and his honorable course in that crisis established his fame as an honest man, in whom it would be safe to confide. Years of earnest and active business life have not changed that character, nor allowed a blot or stain to cloud that reputation."[[C]]
Some years later, Mr. Stout became a merchant. He established a wholesale boot and shoe store, and engaged actively in that business. He brought to his new calling the energy, prudence, and integrity which had distinguished him all through his life, and was successful from the first. He worked hard. His business hours were from seven in the morning until six in the evening. During his busy season, four months in the year, he worked until ten, and often until twelve, paying his employés extra wages for labor performed after the regular business hours. Sometimes he worked until four in the morning, but that did not deter him from being in the store at the usual hour for opening. He was always the last to go home, never leaving the store until the business of the day was over and the house was closed. He extended his operations into dry goods, meeting with equal success in this department. As his business expanded, he was compelled to form various partnerships, but in all these arrangements he reserved to himself, like Stewart, the exclusive management of the finances.
About eighteen years ago, the shoe and leather merchants of the city decided to organize a bank, in which their interests should be the principal consideration. Mr. Stout engaged in the effort with great enthusiasm, and the Shoe and Leather Bank of New York was at length organized under the most auspicious circumstances. Mr. Stout was the largest stockholder in the new bank, and was elected one of its directors. His influence was potent in directing its first operations, and the next year he was elected vice-president, in which position he really had the control of the enterprise left to him. A year later he was elected president of the bank, a position which he still holds, being in point of service the oldest bank president in New York. Upon questions of banking and finance, his views are listened to with great respect by his associates, who have proof of their soundness in the splendid success of the institution over which he presides; and it may be truly said that there are few men in the city who enjoy so large a share of the public confidence as is bestowed upon him.
As a citizen, he is public-spirited and liberal. Some years ago, he held the office of city chamberlain, and during his administration of it a difficulty arose in regard to paying the police force their wages. Knowing that the men and their families would suffer if the money were not promptly paid them, Mr. Stout generously advanced the necessary sum from his private means, looking to the city to reimburse him. In grateful acknowledgment of this practical sympathy for them, the force presented him with a handsome testimonial. His fortune is immense, and is used liberally in behalf of the cause of the Christian religion. His charities are said to be large, but one rarely hears of them, so quietly are they done. He is married and has a family.
No man's career holds out more encouragement to young men seeking to rise than that of Andrew V. Stout. It shows that courage, patient industry, and business capacity will bring fortune to any honest worker. His uniform success speaks volumes in favor of a young man's striving to lead a Christian life in the midst of his business cares and struggles. God's blessing follows such an one at every step, and he will succeed in the end, whatever trials may beset his path at first. It is a great mistake to suppose that a man's success depends on his "sharpness." Shrewdness is a valuable quality, but it must be coupled with a plain, practical honesty, or it will amount to nothing in the end. A man must be faithful to his God if he would have his work stand.
Footnote C: [(return)]
Matthew Hale Smith.
CHAPTER VI.
JONAS CHICKERING.
On Tremont Street, in the City of Boston, near the Roxbury line, there stands an immense building of brick, said to be larger than any edifice in the United States, save the Capitol at Washington. It is built in the form of a hollow square, with a large court-yard in the center, and the building and court-yard together cover an area of five acres. It is five stories in height on the outer side, and six on the inner, the court-yard being one story lower than the street. The building is two hundred and sixty-two feet in length from east to west, and two hundred and forty-five from north to south, the shorter distance being the length on Tremont Street. The width of the building all around the court-yard is fifty feet. It contains nine hundred windows, with eleven thousand panes of glass, and when lighted up at night seems almost a solid mass of fire. From five to six hundred men are employed here in various capacities, and an immense steam engine of one hundred and twenty horse-power furnishes the motive power for the machinery. Altogether, it is one of the most prominent and interesting of all the sights of Boston, and the visitor is surprised to learn that it is due entirely to the energy and genius of one who, but thirty-four years previous to its erection, came to Boston a penniless stranger. The building is the famous piano-forte manufactory of Chickering & Sons, and its founder was Jonas Chickering, the subject of this sketch.
Jonas Chickering was born at New Ipswich, New Hampshire, on the 5th of April, 1798. His father was a blacksmith by trade, and employed his leisure time in cultivating a small farm of which he was the owner. He was esteemed by his neighbors as an upright, reliable man, and prudent and careful in his temporal affairs. The family being poor, young Jonas was required to do his share toward cultivating the farm, and received only such education as was afforded by the district schools in the vicinity. He was noted at an early age for his passionate love of music. When a mere child, he learned to play on the fife, and was such a proficient performer that he was called upon with the town drummer to furnish music for the militia musters, which were then the pride of the town. These were happy days for the lad, but his pleasure was marred by the ridicule which the contrast between his slender figure and the stalwart frame of the "six-foot drummer" caused the fun-loving towns-people to indulge in. Soon after this he learned to play on the clarionet, and when only seventeen or eighteen years old, was so advanced in his art that he could read at sight music of the most difficult character.
At the age of seventeen he was apprenticed to a cabinet-maker to learn his trade, and remained with him for three years, exerting himself to become thorough master of every detail of the business. Toward the close of his apprenticeship, an event occurred which changed the whole current of his life, and placed him in what proved to him the road to fame and fortune.
One of the wealthiest citizens of New Ipswich was the fortunate owner of a piano, the only instrument of the kind in the place; but his treasure was almost useless to him, for the reason that it was out of tune and seriously damaged in some respects. It had lain in this condition for a long time, no one in or near the place being able to make the necessary repairs. In this extremity the owner bethought him of Jonas Chickering, who had acquired an enviable reputation for skill in his trade, and it was thought that a good cabinet-maker ought of necessity to be a clever piano-maker. Young Chickering, thus appealed to, consented to undertake the task, as much for the purpose of becoming familiar with the instrument as of earning the sum the owner of it proposed to pay for the repairs. He had not the slightest knowledge of its internal organization, but he believed that by patient investigation he could master it, and he knew that the correctness of his ear would enable him to tune it. He made a careful study of the instrument and of every separate part, spent days over the task, discovered the injury and the cause of it, and not only took the instrument to pieces and restored it to its former condition, but did his work so well that the piano was pronounced fully as good in every respect as when it was new. This was not all. He discovered defects in the instrument which even its maker was not able to remedy, and his fertile brain at once suggested to him a plan for removing them.
Here was a chance for him, and he resolved to profit by it. He would abandon cabinet-making and learn the manufacture of pianos. Then, when master of his trade, he would make use of his discoveries, and earn both fame and fortune. When his determination to change his business was made known, his friends attributed it to his desire to be in the midst of musical instruments, and where he could gratify his love of music; but this was only a part of the motive which influenced him. He meant to rise in the world, and he was sure that he held in his hands the means of doing so.
In 1818, when twenty years old, he removed to Boston, and obtained employment with a cabinet-maker. He did this in order to give him time to look about him, to become familiar with the city and city life, and to acquire such other information as would enable him to decide upon the best means of putting his plans into execution. He saved his wages with the greatest care, and at the end of his first year in Boston had accumulated a modest little sum, which he meant should support him while he was learning his new trade.
On the 15th of February, 1819, without the loss of a day, he began work with a piano-maker.
He had now entered upon what he meant should be the business of his life, and he was resolved that he would be master of it. From the first he took rank in his employer's factory as the most careful workman in it. He spared no pains to make his knowledge full in every detail. Time was of no consequence compared with knowledge, and he was never anxious to hurry through with his work. It soon came to be recognized by his employer and fellow-workmen that he was the best fitted for those portions of the work upon the instrument which required the greatest patience as well as the greatest care, and the most difficult and delicate work was always intrusted to him, his wages being, of course, in proportion. Other men had no thought but to earn a living. This man meant to win fame and fortune, and to enlarge the scope of that art to which he was so passionately devoted. He labored with his mind as well as his hands, familiarizing himself with every detail of the manufacture, and devising in silence the means for improving the instrument and the implements used in its construction. He could afford to wait, to be slower than his fellows. Every moment spent over his task made his workmanship the better, and opened to his mind new sources of improvement. He spent three years as a journeyman, and then went into business for himself. He associated himself with a Mr. Stewart, under the firm of Stewart & Chickering.
Fifty years ago the piano-forte was a wretched piece of mechanism compared with the superb instrument of to-day. It was originally a progressive growth from the ancient lyre, through the harp, psaltery, dulcimer, clavictherium, clavichord, virginal, spinet, harpsichord, to the piano of Christofali in the early years of the last century. At the period of Mr. Chickering's entrance into business, it was still very imperfect, and the various manufacturers of the instrument were earnestly endeavoring to discover some means of remedying the defects of which they were all conscious. There are four divisions in the manufacture of a piano, each of which requires great skill and care. These are: First, The making of the framing and the sound-board; Second, The stringing; Third, The keys and action; Fourth, The case and ornamental work. The framing requires strength and simplicity. It is this portion of the instrument which sustains the tension of the strings, which in full to large-sized pianos is not less than from six to twelve tons, and it is a matter of prime necessity that the portions which serve as a strut or stretcher between the ends of the strings, and which are to resist this enormous pull, must be made correspondingly strong and rigid, since by any gradual yielding under the pull of the strings, their lengths and tensions, and hence their tone, must undergo proportionate change. In the old pianos, the frames were of wood, and it was impossible to use any but small, short strings, for the reason given above. Fullness and power were not to be thought of, and builders were obliged to confine themselves to securing truthfulness of tone. A multitude of causes, among which were the changes in the weather, combined to render it impossible to keep the old-fashioned instrument in tune. It was this defect which first attracted the attention of Jonas Chickering, and his first endeavor was to produce an instrument which would withstand the climatic changes which were so troublesome to the old ones. He was fully aware of the fact that the piano trade in this country was then so unimportant that it offered but little inducement to a man who could manufacture only the old instrument; but he believed that by producing an instrument of better proportions, and one fuller, richer, and more lasting in tone, he could create a demand for it which would insure the sale of all he could manufacture. His hope of success lay not in the old, but in an improved and nobler instrument. That he was correct in his belief, the magnificent instrument of to-day which bears his name, and the lucrative business he has left to his sons, amply demonstrate. Others besides himself were working for the same end, and he knew that he would have to bear the test of determined and intelligent competition. He applied himself to his purpose with enthusiasm. He carefully studied the theory of atmospheric vibration and musical combination, as well as an application of the principles of mechanical philosophy to the construction of the instrument. He went deep into the science involved in his work, into the philosophy of melody. Passionately devoted to music, he was ambitious of placing that which has been so truly called "the king of instruments" within the reach of all lovers of harmony, and to give them the best instrument that human invention could produce—an instrument which should not only withstand atmospheric changes, but which should yield the richest, fullest volume of melody, with the least exertion to the performer. His progress was slow, but it was sure. Beginning with an improvement in the action, he accomplished, in a great measure (in 1838), his plan for preserving the permanence and purity of the tone of the instrument by casting the entire iron framing with the parallel bars in one piece. Iron had for some time before this been in general use for framing, but the frame was cast in a few separate parts, which were put together by means of bolts and screws, a plan which is still used to a considerable extent in Europe. By his plan of casting the frame and its supporting bars in one solid piece, Mr. Chickering not only prevented the frame from yielding to the pull of the strings, thus securing permanence and purity of tone, but was enabled to use larger frames and more strings, which greatly increased the capacity of the instrument.
Several other improvements were made by him, the most important of which was the invention, in 1845, of the circular scale for square pianos, which is now in general use in this country and in Europe. "This consists in giving to the row of tuning pins and wrest-planks—previously straight in these instruments—a curved disposition, answering nearly to an arc of a circle, the advantage being that the strings become less crowded, larger hammers, and a more direct blow can be secured, and the tone is both strengthened and improved." With a rare generosity, Mr. Chickering declined to patent this improvement, which would have enabled him to drive competition out of the market. He regarded it as so necessary to a good piano that he declared that all makers ought to have the use of it, as it would thus be within the power of all persons able to purchase a piano to avail themselves of it, whether they bought a "Chickering" or not. Such generosity is too rare to fail to receive the praise it merits.
Mr. Chickering did not continue long in business with Mr. Stewart. The latter withdrew in a few years, and Mr. Chickering carried on the business alone. In 1830 he formed a partnership with Captain John Mackay, a retired ship-merchant. In the new firm Captain Mackay took charge of the finances and the office business, while Mr. Chickering devoted himself entirely to the mechanical department. The operations of the new house were very successful. The improvements made by Mr. Chickering from the first created a demand for their instruments which was sometimes so great that it was difficult to supply it. This demand continued to increase, until the house was perfectly easy as to money matters, and able to enlarge its facilities very greatly. It was Mr. Chickering's design that each separate instrument should be an improvement upon those which had preceded it, and he was careful that this plan should not miscarry. In a few years the firm was enabled to import the foreign materials needed, by the cargo, thus saving the profit which they had hitherto been compelled to pay the importer. Besides this saving, they were enabled to keep on hand a large stock of the woods used in the instrument, and thus it was allowed to become more thoroughly seasoned than that which they had been compelled to purchase, from time to time, in small quantities. In 1841, Captain Mackay sailed from Boston for South America, for the purpose of obtaining a supply of the woods needed by the firm; but he never returned, and as no tidings of him or his ship were ever received, it is supposed that the vessel went down at sea with all on board.
Mr. Chickering now decided to continue the business without a partner. His friends supposed that in assuming the management of the concern, in addition to the direction of the mechanical department, and the constant mental labor to which he subjected himself in his efforts to improve the piano, he was undertaking more than he was capable of performing. They feared his health would break down under it. Besides, it was generally believed that, in spite of Mr. Chickering's undoubted skill in his own department, he was not much of a business man. He was confident of his own ability, however, and did not hesitate to assume the new responsibility.
The business of which he now became the owner was very heavy and extensive. Soon after the beginning of his connection with Captain Mackay, the firm erected a large factory for the purpose of carrying on their business. One hundred hands were employed in it when opened, but in a few years it was necessary to employ more than twice that number, so rapidly did the business increase. The supply of materials needed was ample and of the very best quality, for Mr. Chickering never allowed an inferior article to be used. The warerooms were large and handsomely fitted up, and were filled with instruments ranging in price from a thousand dollars downward. It was generally believed that while Mr. Chickering's genius had created the demand for the pianos, it was Captain Mackay's business knowledge and experience that had placed affairs on their present footing, and when Mr. Chickering proposed to buy Captain Mackay's interest from his heirs, which was valued at several hundred thousand dollars, there was a very general belief, which found expression, that he was incurring certain ruin. The condition of the sale was that the purchase-money should be divided into installments, for each of which Mr. Chickering should give his note, secured by a mortgage on the premises. At Mr. Chickering's request each note was made payable "on or before" a given day. The lawyer who conducted the transaction smiled skeptically as he inserted this clause, and asked the purchaser if he ever expected to pay the notes at all.
"If I did not expect to pay them promptly, I should not give them," was the simple reply. He was as good as his word. The notes were met promptly, and although Captain Mackay's family requested that they might stand as an investment for them, Mr. Chickering took up the last one at its maturity.
With the business in his own hands, Mr. Chickering continued its operations, displaying an ease in his mercantile transactions which astonished and delighted his friends. The business prospered to a greater degree than before, and all the while Mr. Chickering continued his labors for the improvement of his instruments with still greater success than in former years. His pianos were universally regarded as the best in the market, and his competitors were unable to excel him. Although conducting a business which required the constant exercise of the highest mercantile talent, he did not relax his energy in the mechanical department. To the end of his life, long after he had become a wealthy and prominent man, he had his own little working-cabinet, with an exquisite set of tools, with which he himself put the finishing touch to each of his splendid instruments, a touch he would not intrust to any other hands.
His competitors did all in their power to equal him, but he distanced them all. One of them adopted a most startling expedient. He obtained permission from the Legislature of Massachusetts to change his name to Chickering, and at once sent out his instruments marked with his new name, his object of course being to deceive the public, and Jonas Chickering had the mortification of seeing the inferior instruments of another maker mistaken for his own. He promptly laid before the Legislature a petition for redress, setting forth the facts of the case and the motives of his rival. The result was that the Legislature reconsidered its action, and compelled the bogus Chickering to resume his original name.
Mr. Chickering was noted for his simplicity and straight-forwardness in business transactions. Conscious of his own integrity, he listened to no proposition of a doubtful character, nor would he ever allow his credit as a merchant to be questioned with impunity. Upon one occasion, he applied through his clerk to the bank, with which he had dealt for many years, for an accommodation which he needed. The president of the bank sent for him, and told him that security would be required.
"I shall give you none," he replied. "I have done my business at this bank for a long time, and if you do not know me, I shall apply where I am better known."
The president was firm in his position, and Mr. Chickering applied to another bank, which readily granted him the desired discount, and to which he at once transferred his business, which was worth to the bank about ten thousand dollars a year. Shortly after, a director of the institution at which he had formerly dealt called on him, and urged him to restore his business to the bank, assuring him that in future it would readily grant him any accommodation he might desire.
"No," he replied; "I will deal with no institution which, having had the opportunity of knowing me, suspects my responsibility."
Again having need of accommodation, he sent his notes for a large sum to one of the city banks for discount. The president said an indorser would be required.
"I shall indorse them myself," said Mr. Chickering.
"That will never do," replied the president.
"Very well," was the simple answer, and, without further words, he took the notes to another bank, which promptly loaned him the money on them.
He tolerated no irregularity in his own business. He was true to the spirit as well as to the letter of a contract, and never, during the whole course of his long life, was he guilty of a transaction in which the most rigid moralist could find a taint of sharp practice. What a refutation of the theories of those who hold that cunning and trickery are unavoidable some time in the course of a long and successful mercantile career lies in the story of this man, who, beginning life penniless, filled with a burning ambition to be rich and famous, never swerved from the straight path of integrity, and by the exercise of only the highest traits of his nature more than realized his boyish dreams! Ponder it well, young man, and learn from it that honesty is indeed the best policy in any calling.
Mr. Chickering had married early in life, and now had three sons just entering upon manhood. These were carefully educated at the public schools for which Boston is so justly famed, and then put into their father's factory to learn the mechanical part of the business. It was the father's ambition to be succeeded by his sons, but he was not willing to trust the labor of his life to ignorant or incompetent hands. At the age of seventeen, Thomas Chickering, the eldest son, was taken from school, and, under his father's eye, taught every detail of the mechanical branch of the business, until he understood it as well as the senior Chickering himself. George, the second son, in due time passed through the same course of training; while Francis, the youngest, was brought up in the warehouse. The father thoroughly imbued his sons with his own system and energy, and to-day we see the result. The firm of Chickering & Sons is still the most prominent in America. Thomas is now the acting head of the house, and has led it on to continued success; Francis is the presiding genius of the mechanical department, and has made many important improvements in the field in which his father won success; and George exercises a general supervision at the immense factory in Boston. The mantle of the father has fallen upon the sons, and his labors have found their highest reward in their success.
Mr. Chickering's good fortune was not entirely uninterrupted. On the 1st of December, 1852, his factory was burned to the ground, with all its valuable patterns, stock, etc., involving a loss to him of two hundred thousand dollars. The interruption to his business was very serious, apart from the loss of his property. Expressions of sympathy poured in upon him from his friends, coupled with offers of pecuniary assistance in his efforts to reëstablish his business. His disaster seemed merely to inspire him with fresh energy, but the kindness of his friends entirely overcame him.
He wasted no time in vain regrets, but at once went to work. He was fifty-four years old, but he showed an energy and determination which more than rivaled the fire of his young manhood. The loss of his factory was not only a severe blow to him, but to the three hundred workmen who had been employed in it, and who were dependent upon their wages for their support. His first care was to assure them that they should not suffer, but that they should continue to receive their wages as regularly as though nothing had happened to interrupt their labor. He had always been kind and generous to his employés, paying liberal wages, and rewarding especial merit, but this act of kindness did more to endear him to them than any previous benefaction. Having provided for his men, he set to work to prepare temporary accommodations for his business, and then began his arrangements for the construction of a new factory. He took a great degree of interest in the plans for the new building, the architect being almost entirely guided by his suggestions, and the result of his labors is the magnificent building to which reference was made at the opening of this chapter. He did not live to see it completed, however. He died at the house of a friend from the rupture of a blood-vessel, produced, it is believed, by severe mental labor, on the 8th of December, 1853. His fortune at the time of his death was estimated at a quarter of a million of dollars. His sons assumed the charge of the business, which they still conduct.
The loss of Mr. Chickering was felt by all classes of his fellow-citizens—especially by the poor. To them he had been a kind and generous friend. Distress never appealed to him in vain, and he proved a faithful steward of the riches committed to his care. Yet he performed his charities with such a modesty and reticence that few beside the grateful recipients were aware of them. Indeed, it was his custom to enjoin secrecy upon those whom he assisted; but they would not remain quiet. His liberality is in striking contrast with the closeness of many who were worth more than twenty times his wealth, but who lacked his warm and sympathizing nature.
CHAPTER VII.
NICHOLAS LONGWORTH.
The grape culture of the United States is yet in its infancy. Although the annual wine product is estimated at nearly three millions of gallons, there can be no doubt that ere many years shall have elapsed America will rank as one of the most important wine countries of the world. California is already extending her vineyards for miles along her smiling valleys, where the clear sky and the balmy air, which are unchangeable at the season of the grape harvest, permit a degree of perfection in the fruit unattainable in any European country. Already her wines are commanding an enviable place in the markets of the world, with no apparent limits to the growing demand for them. The hillsides of the lower Ohio Valley are lined with thriving vineyards, whose rich clusters of Catawba and Isabella grapes delight the eye on every hand, and thousands of acres are now given to successful grape culture, where formerly only a few straggling vines were seen. More than five hundred thousand gallons of wine are now annually produced in the neighborhood of Cincinnati alone, and find a market in that city, and what was but a few years ago a mere experiment is now one of the chief sources of the wonderful prosperity of the Ohio Valley, and one of the most important features in the commerce of the Queen City of the West. The success which has attended this branch of our industry must be a matter of congratulation to the whole country, and the man to whose courage, energy, and liberality it is mainly due must be regarded as a public benefactor.
This man, NICHOLAS LONGWORTH by name, was born at Newark, New Jersey, on the 16th of January, 1782. His father had been a man of large property, but in consequence of being a Tory during the Revolution, his possessions were confiscated, and he and his family impoverished. Young Nicholas's childhood was passed in indigence, and it is said that he was apprenticed to a shoemaker, when a mere lad, to learn the trade as a means of livelihood. However this may be, it is certain that when very young he went to South Carolina as a clerk for his elder brother. The climate of the South, however, did not suit his health, and he returned to Newark, and began the study of the law.
He was poor, and the East was overcrowded, even at that early day, and offered but few inducements to a young man entirely dependent upon his own efforts. Ohio was then the "Far West," and emigration was setting in toward it rapidly. Those who had seen the country related what then seemed marvelous tales of its wonderful fertility and progress. Few professional men were seeking the distant land, and Longworth felt convinced that the services of such as did go would assuredly be in demand, and he resolved to cast his lot with the West.
In 1803, at the age of twenty-one, he removed to the little village of Cincinnati, and, having fixed upon this place as his future home, entered the law office of Judge Jacob Burnet, long the ablest jurist in Ohio. He soon won the confidence and esteem of his instructor, and succeeded so well in his studies that in an unusually short time he was admitted to the bar.
He entered upon the practice of his profession with energy, and soon acquired a profitable business, which increased rapidly. He was a man of simple habits, and lived economically. His savings were considerable, and were regularly invested by him in real estate in the suburbs of the town. Land was cheap at that time, some of his lots costing him but ten dollars each. Long before his death they were worth more than as many thousands. He had a firm conviction that Cincinnati was destined to become one of the largest and most flourishing cities in the Union, and that his real estate would increase in value at a rate which would render him wealthy in a very few years.
His first client was a man accused of horse-stealing, in those days the most heinous offense known to Western law. Longworth secured his acquittal, but the fellow had no money to pay his counsel, and in the absence of funds gave Longworth two second-hand copper stills, which were his property. These the lawyer accepted, thinking that he could easily dispose of them for cash, as they were rare and valuable there in those days. They were in the keeping of Mr. Joel Williams, who carried on a tavern adjacent to the river, and who was afterward one of the largest property-holders in Cincinnati. Mr. Williams was building a distillery at the time, and, as he had confidently reckoned upon using the two stills in his possession, was considerably nonplussed when Longworth presented his order for them. In his extremity he offered to purchase them from the lawyer for a lot of thirty-three acres of barren land in the town, which was then worth little or nothing. Longworth hesitated, for although he had an almost prophetic belief in the future value of the land, he was sorely in need of ready money; but at length he accepted the offer. The deed for the land was made out in his name, and the stills became the property of Mr. Williams. The distillery was built, and its owner realized a fortune; but Longworth did more. His thirty-three acres of barren land were soon in the very heart of Cincinnati, and long before his death were valued at two millions of dollars.
The foresight of Mr. Longworth was fully justified by the course of events. The growth of Cincinnati was almost marvelous in its rapidity. In 1802, it contained about 800 inhabitants; in 1810, 2,540; in 1820, 9,060; in 1830, 24,831; in 1840, 46,338; in 1850, 118,761; and in 1860, just three years before Mr. Longworth's death, 171,293 inhabitants. The reader can easily imagine the immense profits which a half century's increase placed in the hands of the far-seeing lawyer. It seems almost like reading some old fairy tale to peruse the accounts of successful ventures in real estate in American cities. They have sprung up as if by magic, and it is impossible to say where their development will end. Said a gentleman of less than thirty-five years of age to the writer of these pages, "I am the oldest native-born citizen of Chicago. When I first saw the light, my native place could not boast even the dignity of a village; and young as I am, I have witnessed all this wonderful growth." The prosperity of Cincinnati was scarcely less marked, as the career of Mr. Longworth shows. The investment of a comparatively insignificant sum laid the foundation of his fortune, and the first counsel fee he ever earned, a sum trifling in itself, placed him in possession of millions.
Mr. Longworth continued carefully to invest his gains in real estate. The prices paid by him increased, of course, with the rise in the value of property, but as he was persuaded that the limit had not yet been reached, he extended his operations without fear of loss. He sold many of his original purchases, but continued until the day of his death the largest land-owner in the city. In 1850 his taxes were over $17,000, and in the same year the taxes of William B. Astor amounted to $23,116. At the time of his death Mr. Longworth's estate was valued at fifteen millions of dollars, and is doubtless worth fully one-third more at the present day.
Mr. Longworth retired from the practice of the law in 1819, to devote himself to the management of his property, which was already sufficiently important to require his undivided attention. He had always been an enthusiast in horticultural matters, and believing that the climate of the Ohio Valley was admirably adapted to the production of grapes, had for some time been making experiments in that direction; but he fell into the error of believing that only the foreign vines were worth cultivating, and his experiments were unsuccessful. The foreign grape did not mature well, and the wine produced from it was not good. In 1828 his friend Major Adlum sent him some specimens of the Catawba grape, which he had procured from the garden of a German living near Washington City, and be began to experiment with it in his own vineyard.
The Catawba grape, now so popular and well-known throughout the country, was then a comparative stranger to our people, and was regarded even by many who were acquainted with it as unfit for vintage purposes. It was first discovered in a wild condition about 1801, near Asheville, Buncombe County, North Carolina, near the source of the Catawba River. General Davy, of Rocky Mount, on that river, afterward Senator from North Carolina, is supposed to have given the German in whose garden Major Adlum found the grape a few of the vines to experiment upon. General Davy always regarded the bringing of this grape into notice as the greatest act of his life. "I have done my country a greater benefit in introducing this grape into public notice," said he, in after years, "than I would have done if I had paid the national debt."
Mr. Longworth's experiments with the Catawba were highly successful, and induced him to abandon all his efforts with foreign vines, and undertake only the Catawba, to which he afterward added the Isabella. He now entered systematically upon grape-growing. He established a large vineyard upon a hillside sloping down to the river, about four miles above the city, and employed German laborers, whose knowledge of vine-dressing, acquired in the Fatherland, made them the best workmen he could have. He caused it to be announced that all the grape juice produced by the small growers in the vicinity would find a cash purchaser in him, no matter in what quantities offered. At the same time he offered n reward of five hundred dollars for any improvement in the quality of the Catawba grape.
The enthusiasm which he manifested, as well as the liberality of his offer, had a decidedly beneficial effect upon the small growers in the neighborhood. "It proved a great stimulus to the growth of the Catawba vine in the country around Cincinnati," to know that a man of Mr. Longworth's means stood ready to pay cash, at the rate of from a dollar to a dollar and a quarter a gallon, for all the grape-juice that might be brought to him, without reference to the quantity. It was in this way, and by urgent popular appeals through the columns of the newspapers, that he succeeded, after many failures, and against the depressing influence of much doubt and indifference, in bringing the enterprise up to its present high and stable position. When he took the matter in hand there was much to discourage any one not possessed of the traits of constancy of purpose and perseverance peculiar to Mr. Longworth. Many had tried the manufacture of wine, and had failed to give it any economical or commercial importance. It was not believed, until Mr. Longworth practically demonstrated it, that a native grape was the only one upon which any hope could be placed, and that the Catawba offered the most assured promise of success, and was the one upon which all vine-growers might with confidence depend. It took years of unremitted care, multiplied and wide-spread investigations, and the expenditure of large sums of money, to establish this fact, and bring the agricultural community to accept it and act under its guidance. The success attained by Mr. Longworth soon induced other gentlemen resident in the vicinity of Cincinnati, and favorably situated for the purpose, to undertake the culture of the Catawba, and several of them are now regularly and extensively engaged in the manufacture of wine. The impetus and encouragement thus given to the business soon led the German citizens of Hamilton County to perceive its advantages, and, under their thrifty management, thousands of acres, stretching up from the banks of the Ohio, are now covered with luxuriant and profitable vineyards, rivaling in profusion and beauty the vine-clad hills of Italy and France. The oldest vineyard in the county of Hamilton is of Mr. Longworth's planting.
Mr. Longworth subsequently increased the size of his vineyard to two hundred acres, and toward the close of his life his wine houses annually produced one hundred and fifty thousand bottles of wine. His vaults usually contained a stock of three hundred thousand bottles in course of thorough ripening.
His cellars were situated on the declivity of East Sixth Street, on the road to Observatory Hill. They occupied a space ninety feet by one hundred and twenty-five in size, and consisted of two tiers of massive stone vaults, the lower of which was twenty-five feet below the surface of the ground. The manufacture of the wine was placed under the charge of a celebrated chemist from Rheims, and the mode of preparation was as follows:
After the pressing of the grape, the juice is subjected to the vinous fermentation, by which ten or eleven per cent, of alcohol is developed. In the following spring, it is mixed with a small quantity of sugar, and put into strong bottles, the corks of which are secured with twine and wire. The sugar accelerates a second fermentation, which always takes place about this time, and thus a strong movement is produced inside the glass, which generates gas enough to burst the vessels briskly, adding thereby considerably to the cost. This is known as the gaseous fermentation, and the effect of it is to render the wine more enlivening, more stinging to the taste, and more fruity. "This last effect results from this, that the flavor of the fruit mostly passes off with the carbonic acid gas, which is largely generated in the first or vinous fermentation, and in a less degree in this second or gaseous fermentation." It is impossible to avoid the loss of the flavor in the first fermentation, but the strong bottles and securely-fastened corks preserve it in the second. The liquid, which is muddy at first, becomes clear in about a year, a thick sediment having collected at the bottom of the bottle. The bottles are then placed in racks, with their necks downward, and are shaken vigorously every day for about three weeks. This forces the sediment to settle down in the neck against the cork. When it is all in the neck, the wires are cut, and the cork blown out by the gas, carrying the sediment with it. Fresh sugar, for sweetness, is now added, new corks are driven in and secured, and in a few weeks the wine is ready for the market.
Mr. Longworth continued his wine trade with great success for about twenty-five years, and though for some time his expenditures were largely in excess of his income from this source, he at length reaped a steady and increasing profit from it, which more than reimbursed him for his former losses. He was very fond of the strawberry, and succeeded, by careful and expensive cultivation, in making several very important improvements in that delicious fruit. His experiments in the sexual character of the strawberry are highly interesting, but must be passed by here. He manifested no selfishness with respect to his fruits. He was anxious that their cultivation should become general, and his discoveries and improvements were always at the service of any and every one who desired to make use of them.
He was thoroughly devoted to his adopted home, and anxious to secure its steady improvement. When it was proposed to establish an observatory, the Mount Adams property, then owned by him, was regarded as the most fitting site for it. He was asked to name the price for which he would sell the property. To the astonishment of the parties in charge of the enterprise, he made a free gift of the land—four acres in extent—to the trustees. A gentleman who had hoped to dispose of some of his own property for this purpose charged Mr. Longworth, through the press, with being influenced by a desire to improve his adjoining property by the erection of the observatory on Mount Adams. Longworth promptly replied that if the writer of the article in question would donate four acres of his own property for an observatory, he (Longworth) would put up, at his own expense, a building on it equal to that which had been erected on Mount Adams, and transfer the latter place to the city as a permanent pleasure ground. He quietly added that in this way his accuser might himself receive, for his adjacent property, all the benefits of such an improvement, and at the same time win for himself the lasting gratitude of the people of Cincinnati. This settled the matter, and no more was heard from the other side.
"Longworth," says one who knew him, "is a problem and a riddle—a problem worthy of the study of those who delight in exploring that labyrinth of all that is hidden and mysterious, the human heart; and a riddle to himself and others. He is a wit and a humorist of a high order; of keen sagacity and shrewdness in many other respects than in money matters; one who can be exact to a dollar, and liberal, when he chooses, with thousands; of marked peculiarity and tenacity in his own opinions, yet of abundant tolerance to the opinions, however extravagant, of others—a man of great public spirit and sound general judgment.
"In addition to all this, it would be difficult to find an individual of his position and standing so perfectly free from pride, in the ordinary sense. He has absolutely none, unless it be the pride of eccentricity. It is no uncommon circumstance for men to become rich by the concentration of time, and labor, and attention to some one object of profitable employment. This is the ordinary phase of money-getting, as closing the ear and pocket to applications for aid is that of money-saving. Longworth has become a rich man on a different principle. He appears to have started upon the calculation that if he could put any individual in the way of making a dollar for Longworth, and a dollar for himself at the same time, by aiding him with ground for a lot, or in building him a house on it; and if, moreover, he could multiply cases of the kind by hundreds, or perhaps thousands, he would promote his own interests just in the same measure as he was advancing those of others. At the same time he could not be unconscious that, while their half was subdivided into small possessions, owned by a thousand or more individuals, his half was a vast, boundless aggregate, since it was the property of one man alone. The event has done justice to his sagacity. Hundreds, if not thousands, in and adjacent to Cincinnati, now own houses and lots, and many have become wealthy, who would, in all probability, have lived and died as tenants under a different state of case. Had not Mr. Longworth adopted this course, he would have occupied that relation to society which many wealthy men now sustain, that of getting all they can and keeping all they get."
In politics, Mr. Longworth was a Whig, and afterward a Republican. During the famous Clay campaign he was asked to give one hundred dollars to help defray the expenses of the party.
"I never give something for nothing," said he. "We might fail to elect Clay, as we did before, and I should fling away the hundred dollars."
The applicant, who was himself a man of wealth, assured him that there was no doubt of Clay's election.
"There can be no chance of your losing," he said.
"Well," replied Longworth, "I'll tell you what I will do. I will give you the hundred dollars, but mind, you shall be personally responsible to me for its return if Clay is not elected."
The offer was accepted; and when the campaign resulted in the defeat of Clay, Longworth demanded his money from the politician, who was compelled to return it out of his own pocket.
In his own way—and a quaint, singular way it was—Mr. Longworth was exceedingly charitable. Long after he was worth millions, and when every moment of his time was valuable, he was supernumerary township trustee. This was an office which required the expenditure of a considerable portion of his time, and brought him in constant contact with some of the most wretched of the lowest class of the poor. He was always in his office, at stated times, and with a patience and kindness worthy of all admiration, the millionaire listened to their sad tales, and provided such aid as was necessary, oftentimes giving it out of his own purse when the public funds failed.
He was a bitter foe to vagabondage and mendicity. If people in need were willing to work, he would place them in the way of doing so. He was the owner of a stone quarry on Deer Creek, the traces of which may still be seen in the lines of the new Gilbert Avenue; and he kept in his office a supply of picks and shovels. When a stout beggar asked him for alms, he would inquire if he was willing to go to work. If answered affirmatively, he would give him a pick and shovel, and start him for the quarry, where the wages were promptly paid out every night. Many availed themselves of the opportunity, and worked for him faithfully; but others gave the quarry "a wide berth," and sold the pick and shovel for money or liquor. It was his custom to buy large quantities of bread tickets from the bakers, and to distribute them to those whom he considered worthy; and he would also keep on hand large quantities of shoes, dry goods, etc., which he gave away in the same manner.
Mr. Frank Pentland, who was once in his employ, relates the following incident:
"One morning, just after Mr. Longworth had gone to his office, near the Third-Street entrance, where he was accustomed to receive applicants for charity, he was accosted by a man who craved assistance. In answer to a question as to his needs, he replied that his main want was a pair of shoes, and a glance at his feet showed that he spoke truthfully. Mr. Longworth appeared 'to take his measure' at a glance, and impulsively shaking his right foot (he seldom wore his shoes tied), kicked the shoe over to the applicant, saying:
"'Try that on, my man. How does it fit?'
"'Illigant, yer honor,'
"'Well, try that, now,' said he, kicking off the other. 'How will they do?'
"Illigant, yer honor; illigant! May many a blessing'—
"'Well, well, go now—that'll do,' and turning to Pentland, who was then a young boy in his service, ordered him to the house to get another pair. Frank obeyed, but was told by Mrs. Longworth that those he wore away from the house were all that he had. The result was that Frank was hurried off to William Hart's shoe store, on Fifth Street, for new ones, with instructions to 'Ask Mr. Hart for the kind I always buy, and don't pay over a dollar and a half for them.'"
Yet many persons charged this man with stinginess—a charge to which every rich man lays himself open who does not give to all who ask him. Even the rich must refuse sometimes, for there is no reason why they should answer all the calls made upon them—a course which would soon impoverish them. They must discriminate somewhere, and how this shall be done is a question which each must decide for himself. Longworth exercised this discrimination in an eccentric manner, eminently characteristic of him. He invariably refused cases that commended themselves to others. A gentleman once applied to him for assistance for a widow in destitute circumstances.
"Who is she?" asked the millionaire. "Do you know her? Is she a deserving object?"
"She is not only a woman of excellent character," answered his friend, "but she is doing all in her power to support a large family of children."
"Very well, then," said Mr. Longworth, "I shan't give a cent. Such persons will always find a plenty to relieve them."
He was firm, and turned coldly from the entreaties of his friend. Yet he opened his purse liberally to those whom others refused. Vagabonds, drunkards, fallen women, those who had gone down far into the depths of misery and wretchedness, and from whom respectable people shrank in disgust, never appealed to him in vain. "The devil's poor," he whimsically called them. He would listen to them patiently, moved to the depths of his soul by their sad stories, and would send them away rejoicing that they were not utterly friendless. "Decent paupers will always find a plenty to help them," he would say, "but no one cares for these poor wretches. Every body damns them, and as no one else will help them, I must." Yet he aided them in such a manner as to encourage them to rise above their wretchedness.
In his personal appearance Mr. Longworth was not prepossessing. He was dry and caustic in his remarks, and rarely spared the object of his satire. He was plain and careless in his dress, looking more like a beggar than a millionaire. He cared nothing for dress, except, perhaps, that he preferred common clothes to fine ones. One of his acquaintances relates the following story in illustration of this phase of his character:
"Many winters ago, it will be remembered that a style of striped goods was quite popular with poor people on account of its cheapness, and that it acquired the name of 'Hard Times.' Every body with scant purses wore coats or pants of it, for the reason that they could not very well buy any other kind. As the story goes, it appears that 'Old Nick,' as he was familiarly called, invested in an overcoat of this material, and took great pride in wearing it, much to the annoyance of the women folks. It happened that one cold, stormy night the faithful family coachman was at the house without an overcoat, and Mrs. Longworth, after very feelingly depicting his forlorn condition to her husband, solicited the privilege of giving him the aforesaid overcoat. Much to her gratification, Mr. Longworth assented, and the coachman wore off the 'Hard Times,' the good wife replacing it by an elegant broadcloth that she had quietly provided for the occasion. The next morning 'Old Nick' very innocently (?) overlooked the new coat, and went off to make his usual morning rounds without one; but it would be impossible to portray the annoyance of the household when they saw him returning to dinner wearing a duplicate of the veritable 'Hard Times,' and for weeks afterward it was no uncommon occurrence to see the 'master and man' flitting about the old homestead dressed in their gray stripes."
The shabbiness of his dress once led to an amusing adventure, which he enjoyed very much. Climbing one of the hilly streets of the city one broiling summer day, he sat down on a pile of bricks, under the cool shade of a tree, to rest. Taking off his well-worn hat, he laid it on his knee, and closing his eyes, sat enjoying the breeze which had just then sprung up. He was very tired, and his whole figure expressed his weariness. As he sat there in his shabby dress, with his eyes closed, and his hat resting on his knees, he looked the very picture of a blind beggar soliciting charity. For such, indeed, he was mistaken by a working man who passed by a few minutes later, and who, pitying the supposed unfortunate, tossed a few pennies into his hat. The noise of the coppers made the old man open his eyes and look up; and to his amazement the workman recognized in the object of his charity Nicholas Longworth, the millionaire. Mr. Longworth looked at him a moment in his dry, quizzical way, and then, thanking him politely, put the coins in his pocket, and, closing his eyes, once more resumed his former position.
Mr. Longworth had erected a magnificent mansion in the midst of his vineyard. He gathered there a fine library, and a collection of paintings, statuary, and other art treasures, which were his pride. He died there on the 10th of February, 1863, at the age of eighty-one. His loss was severely felt by the community, especially by his "devil's poor," for whom he had cared so tenderly.
CHAPTER VIII.
GEORGE PEABODY.
It is not often that men who pass their lives in the acquisition of money are able to retain the desire to give it to others who have had no share in the earning of it. In European countries, the wealthy merchant commonly uses his fortune for the purpose of founding a family, and securing sometimes a title of nobility. His wealth is entailed, that it may remain in his family and benefit remote generations; but few save those of his own blood enjoy any benefit from it, and the world is no better off for his life and success than if he had never been born. In America, instances of personal generosity and benevolence on a large scale are of more common occurrence than in the Old World. We have already borne witness to the munificence of Girard, Astor, Lawrence, Longworth, and Stewart, and shall yet present to the reader other instances of this kind in the remaining pages of this work. We have now to trace the career of one who far exceeded any of these in the extent and magnitude of his liberality, and who, while neglecting none connected with him by ties of blood, took the whole English-speaking race for his family, and by scattering his blessings far and wide on both sides of the Atlantic, has won a proud name
"As one who loved his fellow-men."
George Peabody came of an old English family, which traced its descent back to the year of our Lord 61, the days of the heroic Boadicea, down through the brilliant circle of the Knights of the Round Table, to Francis Peabody, who in 1635 went from St. Albans, in Hertfordshire, to the New World, and settled in Danvers, Massachusetts, where the subject of this memoir was born one hundred and sixty years later, on the 18th of February, 1795. The parents of George Peabody were poor, and hard work was the lot to which he was born, a lot necessary to develop his sterling qualities of mind and heart. He was possessed of a strong, vigorous constitution, and a quick, penetrating intellect. His education was limited, for he was taken from school at the age of eleven, and set to earning his living. Upon leaving school, he was apprenticed to a Mr. Sylvester Proctor, who kept a "country store" in Danvers. Here he worked hard and faithfully for four or five years, devoting himself, with an energy and determination surprising in one so young, to learn the first principles of business. His mind matured more rapidly than his body, and he was a man in intellect long before he was out of his teens. Having gained all the information it was possible to acquire in so small an establishment, he began to wish for a wider field for the exercise of his abilities. A retail grocery store was no longer the place for one possessed of such talents, and thoroughly conscious of them at such an early age, and it was natural that he should desire some more important and responsible position.
Accordingly, he left Mr. Proctor's employment, and spent a year with his maternal grandfather at Post Mills village, Thetford, Vermont. "George Peabody's year at Post Mills," says a writer who knew him, "must have been a year of intense quiet, with good examples always before him, and good advice whenever occasion called for it; for Mr. Dodge and his wife were both too shrewd to bore him with it needlessly.
"It was on his return from this visit that he spent a night at a tavern in Concord, N.H., and paid for his entertainment by sawing wood the next morning. That, however, must have been a piece of George's own voluntary economy, for Jeremiah Dodge would never have sent his grandson home to Danvers without the means of procuring the necessaries of life on the way, and still less, if possible, would Mrs. Dodge...."
"The interest with which Mr. Peabody remembered this visit to Post Mills is shown by his second visit so late in life, and his gift of a library—as large a library as that place needs. Of its influence on his subsequent career, of course, there is no record. Perhaps it was not much. But, at least, it gave him a good chance for quiet thinking, at an age when he needed it; and the labors of the farm may have been useful both to mind and body."
At the age of sixteen, in the year 1811, he went to Newburyport, and became a clerk in the store of his elder brother, David Peabody, who was engaged in the dry goods business at that place. He exhibited unusual capacity and promise in his calling, and soon drew upon himself the favorable attention of the merchants of the place. He was prompt, reliable, and energetic, and from the first established an enviable reputation for personal and professional integrity. It is said that he earned here the first money he ever made outside of his business. This was by writing ballots for the Federal party in Newburyport. Printed ballots had not then come into use.
He did not stay long in Newburyport, as a great fire, which burned up a considerable part of the town, destroyed his brother's store, and obliged him to seek employment elsewhere. He always retained a warm attachment to the place, however, an attachment which a resident of the town explains as follows:
"The cause of Mr. George Peabody's interest in Newburyport was not alone that he had lived here for a brief period, or that his relatives had lived here; but rather it was the warm friendship that had been shown him, which was, in fact, the basis of his subsequent prosperity. He left here in 1811, and returned in 1857. The forty-six intervening years had borne to the grave most of the persons with whom he had formed acquaintance. Among those he recognized were several who were in business, or clerks, on State Street in 1811,—Messrs. John Porter, Moses Kimball, Prescott Spaulding, and a few others. Mr. Spaulding was fourteen years older than Mr. Peabody, and in business when the latter was a clerk with his uncle, Colonel John Peabody. Mr. Peabody was here in 1857, on the day of the Agricultural Fair, and was walking in the procession with the late Mayor Davenport, when he saw Mr. Spaulding on the sidewalk, and at once left the procession to greet him.
"Mr. Spaulding had rendered him the greatest of services. When Mr. Peabody left Newburyport, he was under age, and not worth a dollar. Mr. Spaulding gave him letters of credit in Boston, through which he obtained two thousand dollars' worth of merchandise of Mr. James Reed, who was so favorably impressed with his appearance, that he subsequently gave him credit for a larger amount. This was his start in life, as he afterward acknowledged; for at a public entertainment in Boston, when his credit was good for any amount, and in any part of the world, Mr. Peabody laid his hand on Mr. Reed's shoulder, and said to those present, 'My friends, here is my first patron; and he is the man who sold me my first bill of goods.' After he was established in Georgetown, D.C., the first consignment made to him was by the late Francis Todd, of Newburyport. It was from these facts that Newburyport was always pleasant in his memory; and the donation he made to the Public Library was on his own suggestion, that he desired to do something of a public nature for our town."
From New England, George Peabody turned his face southward, and entered the employment of his uncle, Mr. John Peabody, who was engaged in the dry goods business in Georgetown, in the District of Columbia. He reached that place in the spring of 1812; but, as the second war with England broke out about the same time, was not able to give his immediate attention to business. He became a member of a volunteer company of artillery, which was stationed at Fort Warburton, but as no active duty was required of the company, he soon went back to his uncle's store. His uncle was a poor man and a bad manager, and for two years the business was conducted by George Peabody, and in his own name; but at the end of that time, seeing the business threatened with ruin by his uncle's incapacity, he resigned his situation, and entered the service of Mr. Elisha Riggs, who had just established a wholesale dry goods house in Georgetown. Mr. Riggs furnished the capital for the concern, and Mr. Peabody was given the management of it. Soon after this, the latter became a partner in the house. It is said that when Mr. Riggs invited Mr. Peabody to become his partner, the latter informed him that he could not legally assume the responsibilities of the business, as he was only nineteen years old. This was no objection in the mind of the merchant, as he wanted a young and active assistant, and had discerned in his boy-manager the qualities which never fail to win success.
The new business in which he was engaged consisted chiefly in the importation and sale of European goods, and consignments of dry goods from the northern cities. It extended over a wide field, and gave Mr. Peabody a fine opportunity for the display of his abilities. Mr. Riggs' friends blamed him very much for leaving his business so entirely in the hands of a boy of nineteen; but he had better proof than they that his affairs were not only in good but in the best hands, and he answered them all by telling them that time would justify his course. Mr. Peabody traveled extensively in establishing his business, often journeying into the wild and unsettled regions of the border States on horseback. He worked with energy and intelligence, and in 1815 the business was found to be so extensive that a removal to Baltimore became necessary. About this time a sort of irregular banking business was added to the operations of the house. This was chiefly the suggestion of Mr. Peabody, and proved a source of great profit.
Mr. Peabody quickly took a prominent rank among the merchants of Baltimore. His manner was frank and engaging, and won him many friends. He was noted for "a judgment quick and cautious, clear and sound, a decided purpose, a firm will, energetic and persevering industry, punctuality and fidelity in every engagement, justice and honor controlling every transaction, and courtesy—that true courtesy which springs from genuine kindness—presiding over the intercourse of life." His business continued to increase, and in 1822 it became necessary to establish branches in Philadelphia and New York, over which Mr. Peabody exercised a careful supervision. He was thoroughly familiar with every detail of his business, and never suffered his vigilance to relax, however competent might be the subordinates in the immediate charge of those details. In 1827 he went to England on business for his firm, and during the next ten years made frequent voyages between New York and London.
In 1829 Mr. Riggs withdrew from the firm, and Mr. Peabody become the actual head of the house, the style of the firm, which had previously been "Riggs & Peabody," being changed to "Peabody, Riggs & Co." The firm had for some time been the financial agents of the State of Maryland, and had managed the negotiations confided to them with great skill and success; and every year their banking department became more important and more profitable.
In 1836 Mr. Peabody determined to extend his business, which was already very large, to England, and to open a branch house in London. In 1837 he removed to that city for the purpose of taking charge of his house there, and from that time London became his home.
The summer of this year was marked by one of the most terrible commercial crises the United States has ever known. A large number of the banks suspended specie payment, and the majority of the mercantile houses were either ruined or in the greatest distress. Thousands of merchants, until then prosperous, were hopelessly ruined. "That great sympathetic nerve of the commercial world, credit," said Edward Everett, "as far as the United States was concerned, was for the time paralyzed. At that moment Mr. Peabody not only stood firm himself, but was the cause of firmness in others. There were not at that time, probably, half a dozen other men in Europe who, upon the subject of American securities, would have been listened to for a moment in the parlor of the Bank of England. But his judgment commanded respect; his integrity won back the reliance which men had been accustomed to place in American securities. The reproach in which they were all involved was gradually wiped away from those of a substantial character; and if, on this solid basis of unsuspected good faith, he reared his own prosperity, let it be remembered that at the same time he retrieved the credit of the State of Maryland, of which he was agent—performing that miracle by which the word of an honest man turns paper into gold."
The conduct of Mr. Peabody, as well as the evidences which he gave of his remarkable capacity for business, in this crisis, placed him among the foremost merchants of London. He carried on his business upon a large scale from his base of operations in that city. He bought British manufactures in all parts of England and shipped them to the United States. His vessels brought back in return all kinds of American produce which would command a ready sale in England. Profitable as these ventures were, there was another branch of his business much more remunerative to him. The merchants and manufacturers on both sides of the Atlantic who consigned their goods to him frequently procured from him advances upon the goods long before they were sold. At other times they would leave large sums in his hands long after the goods were disposed of, knowing that they could draw whenever they needed, and that in the meanwhile their money was being so profitably invested that they were certain of a proper interest for their loans. Thus Mr. Peabody gradually became a banker, in which pursuit he was as successful as he had been as a merchant. In 1843 he withdrew from the house of Peabody, Riggs & Co., and established the house of "George Peabody & Company, of Warnford Court, City."
His dealings were chiefly with America, and in American securities, and he was always regarded as one of the best specimens of the American merchant ever seen in London. He was very proud of his country; and though he passed so many years of his life abroad, he never forgot that he was an American. In speaking of the manner in which he organized his business establishment, he once said: "I have endeavored, in the constitution of its members and the character of its business, to make it an American house, and to give it an American atmosphere; to furnish it with American journals; to make it a center of American news, and an agreeable place for my American friends visiting London."
It was his custom, from his first settlement in England, to celebrate the anniversary of the independence of his country by an entertainment at one of the public houses in the city, to which the most distinguished Americans in London were always invited, as were also many of the prominent men of Great Britain; and this dinner was only discontinued in deference to the general celebration of the day which was afterward instituted by the whole body of Americans resident in the British metropolis. In the year 1851, when it was thought that there would be no representation of the achievements of American skill and industry in the Great Exhibition of that year, from a lack of funds, Mr. Peabody generously supplied the sum of fifteen thousand dollars, which enabled the Commissioners to make a suitable display of the American contributions. Said the Hon. Edward Everett, alluding to this act:
"In most, perhaps in all other countries, this exhibition had been a government affair. Commissioners were appointed by authority to protect the interests of the exhibitors; and, what was more important, appropriations of money had been made to defray their expenses. No appropriations were made by Congress. Our exhibitors arrived friendless, some of them penniless, in the great commercial Babel of the world. They found the portion of the Crystal Palace assigned to our country unprepared for the specimens of art and industry which they had brought with them; naked and unadorned by the side of the neighboring arcades and galleries fitted up with elegance and splendor by the richest governments in Europe. The English press began to launch its too ready sarcasms at the sorry appearance which Brother Jonathan seemed likely to make; and all the exhibitors from this country, as well as those who felt an interest in their success, were disheartened. At this critical moment, our friend stepped forward. He did what Congress should have done. By liberal advances on his part, the American department was fitted up; and day after day, as some new product of American ingenuity and taste was added to the list,—McCormick's reaper, Colt's revolver, Powers's Greek Slave, Hobbs's unpickable lock, Hoe's wonderful printing presses, and Bond's more wonderful spring governor,—-it began to be suspected that Brother Jonathan was not quite so much of a simpleton as had been thought. He had contributed his full share, if not to the splendor, at least to the utilities of the exhibition. In fact, the leading journal at London, with a magnanimity which did it honor, admitted that England had derived more real benefit from the contributions of the United States than from those of any other country."
As has been said, Mr. Peabody made the bulk of his colossal fortune in the banking business. He had a firm faith in American securities, and dealt in them largely, and with confidence. His business instinct was remarkable, his judgment in mercantile and financial matters almost infallible, and he made few mistakes. His course was now onward and upward, and each year marked an increase of his wealth. His business operations were conducted in pursuance of a rigid system which was never relaxed. To the very close of his life he never abandoned the exact or business-like manner in which he sought to make money. He gave away millions with a generosity never excelled, yet he could be exacting to a penny in the fulfillment of a contract.
In his youth he contracted habits of economy, and these he retained to the last. Being unmarried, he did not subject himself to the expense of a complete domestic establishment, but lived in chambers, and entertained his friends at his club or at a coffee-house. His habits were simple in every respect, and he was often seen making his dinner on a mutton-chop at a table laden (at his cost) with the most sumptuous and tempting viands. His personal expenses for ten years did not average three thousand dollars per annum.
The conductor on an English railway once overcharged him a shilling for fare. He promptly complained to the directors, and had the man discharged. "Not," said he, "that I could not afford to pay the shilling, but the man was cheating many travelers to whom the swindle would be offensive."
Several years ago he chanced to ride in a hack in Salem, Massachusetts, and upon reaching his destination tendered the driver his usual fee of fifty cents.
"Here's your change, sir," said the man, handing him back fifteen cents.
"Change!" exclaimed Mr. Peabody; "why, I'm not entitled to any."
"Yes, you are; I don't charge but thirty-five cents for a ride in my hack."
"How do you live, then?"
"By fair dealing, sir. I don't believe in making a man pay more than a thing is worth just because I have an opportunity."
Mr. Peabody was so much pleased with this reply, that as long as he remained in Salem he sought this man out and gave him his custom.
In his dress Mr. Peabody was simple and unostentatious. He was scrupulously neat and tasteful, but there was nothing about him to indicate his vast wealth. He seldom wore any jewelry, using merely a black band for his watch-guard. Display of all kinds he abominated.
He made several visits to his native country during his last residence in London, and commemorated each one of them by acts of princely munificence. He gave large sums to the cause of education, and to religious and charitable objects, and made each one of his near kindred wealthy. None of his relatives received less than one hundred thousand dollars, and some were given as much as three times that sum. He gave immense sums to the poor of London, and became their benefactor to such an extent that Queen Victoria sent him her portrait, which she had caused to be executed for him at a cost of over forty thousand dollars, in token of her appreciation of his services in behalf of the poor of her realm.
Mr. Peabody made another visit to the United States in 1866, and upon this occasion added large sums to many of the donations he had already made in this country. He remained here until May, 1867, when he returned to England. He came back in June, 1869, but soon sailed again for England. His health had become very feeble, and it was his belief that it would be better in the atmosphere of London, to which he had been so long accustomed. His hope of recovery was vain. He failed to rally upon reaching London, and died in that city on the 4th of November, 1869.
The news of his death created a profound sadness on both sides of the Atlantic, for his native and his adopted country alike revered him as a benefactor. The Queen caused his body to be placed in a vault in Westminster Abbey, amidst the greatest and noblest of her kingdom, until all was in readiness for its transportation to the United States in a royal man-of-war. The Congress of the United States authorized the President to make such arrangements for the reception of the body as he should deem necessary. Sovereigns, statesmen, and warriors united to do homage to the mortal remains of this plain, simple man, who, beginning life a poor boy, and never departing from the character of an unassuming citizen, had made humanity his debtor by his generosity and goodness. He was borne across the ocean with kingly honors, two great nations acting as chief mourners, and then, when the pomp and the splendor of the occasion were ended, they laid him down in his native earth by the side of the mother from whom he had imbibed those principles of integrity and goodness which were the foundation of his fame and fortune.
It is impossible to obtain an accurate statement of the donations made by Mr. Peabody to the objects which enlisted his sympathy. In addition to those mentioned in the list below, he gave away for various public purposes sums ranging from two hundred and fifty to one thousand dollars, and extending back as far as the year 1835. He divided among his relatives the sum of about three millions of dollars, giving them a portion during his last visit to this country, and leaving them the remainder at his death.
The following is a statement of his more important donations during his life, including the bequests contained in his last will and testament:
| To the State of Maryland, for negotiating the loan of $8,000,000 | $60,000 |
| To the Peabody Institute, Baltimore, Md., including accrued interest | 1,500,000 |
| To the Southern Education Fund | 3,000,000 |
| To Yale College | 150,000 |
| To Harvard College | 150,000 |
| To Peabody Academy, Massachusetts | 140,000 |
| To Phillips Academy, Massachusetts | 25,000 |
| To Peabody Institute, etc., at Peabody, Mass. | 250,000 |
| To Kenyon College, Ohio | 25,000 |
| To Memorial Church, in Georgetown, Mass. | 100,000 |
| To Homes for the Poor in London | 3,000,000 |
| To Libraries in Georgetown, Massachusetts, and Thetford, Vermont | 10,000 |
| To Kane's Arctic Expedition | 10,000 |
| To different Sanitary Fairs | 10,000 |
| To unpaid moneys advanced to uphold the credit of States | 40,000 |
| Total | $8,470,000 |
The life of such a man affords lessons full of hope and encouragement to others. In 1856, when on a visit to Danvers, now named Peabody, in honor of him, its most distinguished son and greatest benefactor, he said:
"Though Providence has granted me an unvaried and unusual success in the pursuit of fortune in other lands, I am still in heart the humble boy who left yonder unpretending dwelling. There is not a youth within the sound of my voice whose early opportunities and advantages are not very much greater than were my own, and I have since achieved nothing that is impossible to the most humble boy among you."
II. CAPITALISTS.
CHAPTER IX.
CORNELIUS VANDERBILT.
STATEN ISLAND lies in the beautiful bay of New York, seven miles distant from the great city. Its lofty heights shut in the snug anchorage of the inner bay, and protect it from the rude storms which howl along the coast. It lies full in sight of the city, and is one of the most beautiful and attractive of its suburbs. The commanding heights and embowered shores are covered with villas and cottages, and afford a pleasant and convenient summer resort for the people of New York. It now contains a large and flourishing population, and maintains a speedy and constant communication with the metropolis by means of steam ferry-boats, the total travel on which sometimes reaches as many as ten or twelve thousand passengers per day.
Seventy-six years ago, Staten Island was a mere country settlement, and its communications with the city were maintained by means of a few sail-boats, which made one trip each way per day.
One of these boats was owned and navigated by Cornelius Vanderbilt, a thriving farmer, who owned a small but well cultivated estate on Staten Island, near the present Quarantine Grounds. He was a man of exemplary character, great industry, and was generally regarded as one of the most prudent and reliable men on the island. Having a considerable amount of produce to sell in the city, he purchased a boat of his own for the purpose of transporting it thither. Frequently, residents of the island would secure passage in this boat to the city in the morning, and return with it in the evening. He realized a considerable sum of money in this way, and finally ran his boat regularly between the island and the city. This was the beginning of the New York and Staten Island Ferry. Mr. Vanderbilt, by close application to his farm and boat, soon acquired a property, which, though small, was sufficient to enable him to maintain his family independently. His wife was a woman of more than usual character, and aided him nobly in making his way in the world.
This admirable couple were blessed with nine children. The oldest of these, Cornelius, the subject of this sketch, was born at the old farm-house on Staten Island, on the 27th of May, 1794. He was a healthy, active boy, fond of all manner of out-door sports, and manifesting an unusual repugnance to the confinement and labors of the school-room. He has since declared that the only books he remembers using at school were the New Testament and the spelling-book. The result was, that he merely learned to read, write, and cipher, and that imperfectly. He was passionately fond of the water, and was never so well pleased as when his father allowed him to assist in sailing his boat. He was also a famous horseman from his earliest childhood, and even now recalls with evident pride the fact that when but six years old he rode a race-horse at full speed. When he set himself to accomplish any thing, he was not, like most boys, deterred by the difficulties of his undertaking, but persevered until success crowned his efforts. So early did he establish his reputation for overcoming obstacles, that his boyish friends learned to regard any task which he undertook as already virtually performed.
When he was only twelve years old his father contracted to remove the cargo from a ship which had gone ashore near Sandy Hook, and to convey it to New York. The lighters which were to carry the goods to the city could not reach the ship, and it was necessary to haul the cargo, transported in wagons, across the sands from the vessel to them. In spite of his tender age, little Cornelius was placed by his father in charge of the undertaking, which he accomplished promptly and successfully. He loaded his lighters, sent them up to New York, and then started for home with his wagons. Upon reaching South Amboy, where he was to cross over to Staten Island, he found himself, with his wagons, horses, and men, without any money to pay his ferriage across to the island. The ferriage would amount to six dollars, and how he was to raise this sum he was, for a time, at a loss to determine. Finally, he went to the keeper of the tavern, to whom he was a stranger, and asked for the loan of six dollars, offering to leave one of his horses as a pledge for the money, which he promised to return within two days. The tavern-keeper was so well pleased with the boy's energy, that he loaned him the money, and the party crossed over to Staten Island. The pawned horse was promptly redeemed.
Young Vanderbilt was always anxious to become a sailor, and, as he approached his seventeenth year, he determined to begin life as a boatman in the harbor of New York. On the 1st of May, 1810, he informed his mother of his determination, and asked her to lend him one hundred dollars to buy a boat.
The good lady had always opposed her son's wish to go to sea, and regarded this new scheme as equally hair-brained. As a means of discouraging him, she told him if he would plow, harrow, and plant with corn a certain ten-acre lot belonging to the farm, by the twenty-seventh of that month, on which day he would be seventeen years old, she would lend him the money. The field was the worst in the whole farm; it was rough, hard, and stony; but by the appointed time the work was done, and well done, and the boy claimed and received his money. He hurried off to a neighboring village, and bought his boat, in which he set out for home. He had not gone far, however, when the boat struck a sunken wreck, and filled so rapidly that the boy had barely time to get into shoal water before it sank.
"Undismayed at this mishap," says Mr. Parton, from whose graphic memoir the leading incidents of this sketch are taken, "he began his new career. His success, as we have intimated, was speedy and great. He made a thousand dollars during each of the next three summers. Often he worked all night; but he was never absent from his post by day, and he soon had the cream of the boating business of the port.
"At that day parents claimed the services and earnings of their children till they were twenty-one. In other words, families made common cause against the common enemy, Want. The arrangement between this young boatman and his parents was, that he should give them all his day earnings and half his night earnings. He fulfilled his engagement faithfully until his parents released him from it, and with his own half of his earnings by night, he bought all his clothes. He had forty competitors in the business, who, being all grown men, could dispose of their gains as they chose; but of all the forty, he alone has emerged to prosperity and distinction. Why was this? There were several reasons. He soon became the best boatman in the port. He attended to his business more regularly and strictly than any other. He had no vices. His comrades spent at night much of what they earned by day, and when the winter suspended their business, instead of living on their last summer's savings, they were obliged to lay up debts for the next summer's gains to discharge. In those three years of willing servitude to his parents, Cornelius Vanderbilt added to the family's common stock of wealth, and gained for himself three things—a perfect knowledge of his business, habits of industry and self-control, and the best boat in the harbor."
During the War of 1812, young Vanderbilt was kept very busy. All the harbor defenses were fully manned, and a number of war vessels were in port all the time. The travel between these and the city was very great, and boatmen were in demand.
In September, 1813, a British fleet attempted to run past Fort Richmond, during a heavy gale. The commanding officer was anxious to send to New York for reinforcements, but it was blowing so hard that none of the old boatmen were willing to venture upon the bay. They all declared that if the voyage could be made at all, Cornelius Vanderbilt was the only man who could make it. The commandant at once sent for the young man, who, upon learning the urgency of the case, expressed his belief that he could carry the messengers to the city. "But," said he, "I shall have to carry them part of the way under water." He set out with the messengers, and in an hour landed them safe, but drenched through, at the foot of Whitehall Street, which was then the landing place of all the boatmen of the harbor.
He was now so prosperous in his calling that he determined to marry. He had wooed and won the heart of Sophia Johnson, the daughter of a neighbor, and he now asked his parents' consent to his marriage, and also requested them to allow him to retain his own earnings, in order that he might be able to support a wife. Both of his petitions received the approval of his parents, and in the winter of 1813 he was married. His wife was a woman of unusual personal beauty and strength of character, and proved the best of partners. He has often declared since that he owed his success in life as much to her counsel and assistance as to his own efforts.
In the spring of 1814, it became known in America that the British were fitting out a formidable military and naval expedition for the purpose of attacking one of the Atlantic ports of the United States. The whole coast was on the lookout, and, as it was feared that the blow would be struck at New York, every precaution was taken to be ready. The militia were called into service for three months, under a heavy penalty for refusing to obey the call. The term of service thus marked out covered the most prosperous season of the boatmen, and made the call fall particularly hard upon them. About this time, an advertisement was inserted in the city journals by the Commissary-General of the army, calling for bids from boatmen for the purpose of conveying provisions from New York to the various military posts in the vicinity. The labor was to be performed during the three months for which the militia were called out, and the contractor was to be exempted from all military duty during that time. Bids poured in from the boatmen, who offered to do the work at ridiculously low figures—the chief object of each one being to secure the exemption.
Young Vanderbilt, knowing that the work could not be done at the rates at which his comrades offered to perform it, at first decided not to bid for it, but at length—and more to please his father than because he expected to succeed—offered to transport the provisions at a price which would enable him to be sure of doing it well and thoroughly. He felt so little hope of success that he did not even trouble himself to go to the office of the Commissary on the day of the awarding of the contract, until he learned from his companions that all their efforts to secure it had been ineffectual. Then he called on the Commissary, merely through curiosity, to learn the name of the fortunate man, and to his utter astonishment was told that the contract had been awarded to himself. The Government was satisfied, from his sensible offer, that he would do the business thoroughly, and this the Commissary assured him was the reason why they had selected him.
There were six posts to be supplied—Harlem, Hell Gate, Ward's Island, the Narrows, and one other in the harbor, each of which was to be furnished with one load per week. The young contractor made arrangements to have a daily load of stores ready for him each evening at six o'clock, and thus performed all the duties of his contract at night, which left him free to attend to his boating during the day. He never failed to make a single delivery of stores, or to be absent from his post on the beach at Whitehall one single day during the whole three months. He was often without sleep, and performed an immense amount of labor during this period; but his indomitable energy and powerful physical organization carried him safely through it all.
He made a great deal of money that summer, and with his earnings built a splendid little schooner, which he named the "Dread." In 1815, in connection with his brother-in-law, Captain De Forrest, he built a fine schooner, called the "Charlotte," for the coasting service. She was celebrated for the beauty of her model and her great speed. He continued to ply his boat in the harbor during the summer, but in the fall and winter made voyages along the coast, often as far south as Charleston. During the three years succeeding the termination of the war he saved nine thousand dollars in cash, and built two or three small vessels. This was his condition in 1818.
By this time it had become demonstrated to his satisfaction that the new system of steamboats was a success, and was destined to come into general use at no very distant day. He therefore determined to identify himself with it at once, and thereby secure the benefits which he felt sure would result from a prompt connection with it. Accordingly, in 1818, to the surprise and dismay of his friends, he gave up his flourishing business, in order to accept the captaincy of a steamboat which was offered him by Mr. Thomas Gibbons. The salary attached to this position was one thousand dollars, and Captain Vanderbilt's friends frankly told him that he was very foolish in abandoning a lucrative business for so insignificant a sum. Turning a deaf ear to their remonstrances, however, he entered promptly upon the duties of his new career, and was given command of a steamboat plying between New York and New Brunswick.
Passengers to Philadelphia, at that day, were transported by steamer from New York to New Brunswick, where they remained all night. The next morning they took the stage for Trenton, from which they were conveyed by steamer to Philadelphia. The hotel at New Brunswick was a miserable affair, and had never paid expenses. When Captain Vanderbilt took command of the steamer, he was offered the hotel rent free, and accepted the offer. He placed the house in charge of his wife, under whose vigorous administration it soon acquired a popularity which was of the greatest benefit to the line.
For seven years he was harassed and hampered by the hostility of the State of New York, which had granted to Fulton and Livingston the sole right to navigate New York waters by steam. Thomas Gibbons believed this law to be unconstitutional, and ran his boats in defiance of it. The authorities of the State resented his disregard of their monopoly, and a long and vexatious warfare sprang up between them, which was ended only in 1824, by the decision of the Supreme Court of the United States in favor of Mr. Gibbons.
As a means of crippling Gibbons, the New York authorities at one time determined to arrest Vanderbilt and his crew; but the wary captain was too cunning for them. He would land his crew in Jersey City, and take charge of the engine himself, while a lady managed the helm. In this way he approached the wharf at New York, landed his passengers, and took on more. As soon as he had made his boat fast, he concealed himself in the hold until the moment of his departure. As soon as he appeared on deck, the Sheriff's officer (who was changed every day to avoid recognition) would approach him with a warrant for his arrest. His reply was an order to let go the line. The officer, unwilling to be carried off to New Jersey, where he was threatened with imprisonment in the penitentiary for interfering with the steamer, would at once jump ashore, or beg to be landed. This was kept up for two months, but the captain successfully baffled his enemies during the whole of that period. The opponents of Mr. Gibbons offered a larger and better boat than the one he commanded if he would enter their service, but he firmly declined all their offers, avowing his determination to remain with Mr. Gibbons until the difficulty was settled.
After the decision of the Supreme Court placed Mr. Gibbons in the full enjoyment of his rights, Captain Vanderbilt was allowed to manage the line in his own way, and conducted it with so much skill and vigor that it paid its owner an annual profit of forty thousand dollars. Mr. Gibbons offered to increase his salary to five thousand dollars, but he refused to accept the offer.
"I did it on principle," he said, afterward. "The other captains had but one thousand, and they were already jealous enough of me. Besides, I never cared for money. All I ever cared for was to carry my point."
In 1829 he determined to leave the service of Mr. Gibbons, with whom he had been connected for eleven years. He was thirty-five years old, and had saved thirty thousand dollars. He resolved to build a steamer of his own, and command her himself, and accordingly made known his intention to his employer. Mr. Gibbons at once declared that he could not carry on the line without his assistance, and told him he might make his own terms if he would stay with him. Captain Vanderbilt had formed his decision after much thought, and being satisfied that he was doing right, he persisted in his determination to set up for himself. Mr. Gibbons then offered to sell him the line on the spot, and to take his pay as the money should be earned. It was a splendid offer, but it was firmly and gratefully refused. The captain knew the men among whom he would be thrown, and that they could never act together harmoniously. He believed his own ideas to be the best, and wished to be free to carry them out.
After leaving Mr. Gibbons he built a small steamer, called the "Caroline," which he commanded himself. In a few years he was the owner of several other small steamers plying between New York and the neighboring towns. He made slow progress at first, for he had strong opposition to overcome. The steamboat interest was in the hands of powerful companies, backed by immense capital, and these companies were not disposed to tolerate the interference of any new-comer. They met their match in all cases, however, for Vanderbilt inaugurated so sharp a business opposition that the best of them were forced to compromise with him. These troubles were very annoying to him, and cost him nearly every dollar he was worth, but he persevered, and at length "carried his point."
From that time he made his way gradually in his business, until he rose to the head of the steamboat interest of the United States. He has owned or been interested in one hundred steam vessels, and has been instrumental in a greater degree than any other man in bringing down the tariff of steamboat fares. He never builds a vessel without giving his personal superintendence to every detail, so that all his various craft have been models of their kind. He selects his officers with the greatest care, pays them liberal salaries, and, as long as they do their duty, sustains them against all outside interference or intrigue. In this way he inspires them with zeal, and the result is that he has never lost a vessel by fire, explosion, or wreck.
He built the famous steamer "North Star," and made a triumphal cruise in her to the Old World. It is said that he was at one time very anxious to divide the business of the ocean with the Collins Line of steamers. When the "Arctic" was lost he applied to Mr. Collins to allow his steamer to run in her place. He promised to make no claim for the mail subsidy which Collins received, and to take the vessel off as soon as Collins could build another to take her place. Mr. Collins was afraid to let Mr. Vanderbilt get any hold on the foreign trade of the country, and not only refused his request, but did so in a manner which roused the anger of the veteran, who thereupon told Mr. Collins that he would run his line off the ocean if it took his whole life and entire fortune to do it. He kept his word. He at once offered the Government to carry the mails more promptly and regularly than had ever been done before, and to do this for a term of years without asking one single cent as subsidy. It was well known that he was perfectly able to do what he promised, and he pressed the matter upon the Government so vigorously that he was successful. The subsidy to Collins was withdrawn, and the magnificent line soon fell to pieces in consequence of the bankruptcy of its owner, who might have averted his fate by the exercise of a little liberality.
Of late years, Mr. Vanderbilt has been withdrawing his money from ships and steamers, and investing it in railroads and iron works. Success has attended him in all his ventures, and he is to-day worth over thirty millions of dollars. He controls the Hudson River, Harlem, and New York Central Roads, and is largely interested in many others. He is all powerful in the stock market, and can move it as he will.
A few years ago he wished to consolidate the Hudson River and Harlem Railroads, and when the scheme was presented before the Legislature of New York, secured a sufficient number of votes to insure the passage of the bill authorizing the consolidation. Before the bill was called up on its final passage, however, he learned from a trustworthy source that the members of the Legislature who had promised to vote for the bill were determined to vote against it, with the hope of ruining him. The stock of Harlem Road was then selling very high, in consequence of the expected consolidation. The defeat of the bill would, of course, cause it to fall immediately. The unprincipled legislators at once commenced a shrewd game. They sold Harlem right and left, to be delivered at a future day, and found plenty of purchasers. They let their friends into the secret, and there was soon a great deal of "selling 'short'" in this stock. [[D]] Commodore Vanderbilt, although indignant at the treachery of which he was to be made the victim, held his peace. He went into the market quietly, with all the funds he could raise, purchased every dollar's worth of Harlem stock he could lay his hands on, and locked it up in his safe. When the bill came before the Legislature on its final passage, the members who had pledged themselves to vote for it voted against it, and it was rejected.
The speculators were jubilant. They were sure that the defeat of the bill would bring down "Harlem" with a rush. To their astonishment, however, "Harlem" did not fall. It remained stationary the first day, and then, to their dismay, began to rise steadily. Those to whom they had sold demanded the delivery of the stock, but the speculators found it impossible to buy it. There was none in the market at any price. Being unable to deliver stock, they were forced to pay its equivalent in money, and the result was, that all who were engaged in the infamous scheme were ruined. One of the shrewdest operators in New York lost over two hundred thousand dollars. He refused to pay, but his name was at once stricken from the list of stock-brokers. This brought him to terms, and he made good his contracts. Vanderbilt made enough money out of this effort to crush him to pay for all the stock he owned in the Harlem Road.
During the rebellion, Commodore Vanderbilt was one of the stanchest supporters of the Government. Early in the struggle he equipped his splendid steamer, the "Vanderbilt," as a man-of-war, and offered her to the Navy Department at a fair price. He found that, in order to sell the vessel, he would have to pay a percentage of the price received for her to certain parties who stood between the Government and the purchase, and levied black mail upon every ship the Government bought. Indignant and disgusted, he withdrew his ship, and declared she was not for sale. Then, satisfying himself that she was in perfect condition, he presented her to the Navy Department as a free gift to the nation.
Says a recent writer, whose fondness for courtly similes the reader must pardon, for the sake of the information he imparts: "No man is felt in Wall Street more than Commodore Vanderbilt, yet he is seldom seen there. All of his business is done in his office in Fourth Street. Here his brokers meet him, receive their orders, and give reports. Here the plans are laid that shake the street, and Wall Street trembles at the foot of an invisible autocrat. If the reader would care to visit the court of that great railroad king, whose name has become the terror of Wall Street, he may accompany us to a plain brick residence in Fourth Street, near Broadway, and distant from Wall Street nearly two miles. No sign indicates its imperial occupant, except that the upper story being occupied as a millinery establishment bears a legend of that character. However, as we enter the hall, we notice the word 'office,' and open the door thus inscribed. Here we see a table, a few chairs, and a desk, at which a solitary clerk of middle age is standing at work.
"The walls are bare, with the exception of a few pictures of those steamships which originated the title of 'Commodore,' This is the ante-chamber, and a pair of folding doors screen the king from vulgar gaze. He is closeted with his marshals, and this privy council will last an hour or so. One after the other they depart, and before three o'clock the effect of this council will not only be felt in Wall Street, but will be flashed over the Union. At length you are permitted to enter. The folding door is opened, and you behold an office as plain in appearance as the one just described. It contains a few arm-chairs and a long business-table, thrown flush before you, on the opposite side of which sits a large man, with his face fronting you. He is writing, and his eyes are fixed on the paper, so that you have a moment to note the dignity of frame and the vast development of brain. In a few minutes the countenance raises, and you meet its expansive and penetrating glance.
"You face the king. He smiles in a pleasant and whole-souled manner, and in a moment puts you at ease. No stiffness nor formality here. His kingship is in himself, not in etiquette. He is ready for a pleasantry, and will initiate one if it comes in the line of conversation. You note those wonderful eyes, bright and piercing, and so large and rich that one is fascinated, and does not know how to stop gazing into them. Such is the appearance of the railway king, and you take your leave, conscious that some men, as Shakespeare says, 'are born great.' Indeed, we know a man who would rather give five dollars to sit and look at Commodore Vanderbilt for an hour than to see any other sight in this city. Next door to the office is a building of brown stone, with spacious doors and a roadway. This is the Commodore's stable, where are some of the finest horses in the country.
"Every afternoon he is wont to take an airing, and after tea a game of whist affords an evening amusement. The Commodore is simple in his manners and habits. He is a representative of a former age, when men lived less artificially than at the present time, and when there was more happiness and less show. As for business, it is his nature. He can not help being king. He is but developing himself, and any other mode of life would be painful. He has in the Central afforded a third wonder, the Harlem and the Hudson River being the first and second, and if he gets the Erie he will soon show the world another wonder. On Sundays the Commodore attends Dr. Hutton's church on Washington Square, and here his tall and dignified form may be seen, head and shoulders above the rest of the congregation. He is a friend of the pastor, who takes a deep interest in his welfare, and we hope will meet him in a better world. He stood by the Commodore's side when his wife was laid in the tomb, and cheered him in that dark and trying hour. Among his more recent works is the completing of a tomb in the old Moravian burial-ground in Staten Island. The subterranean chamber is about thirty feet square, and is surmounted by a lofty shaft, and a statue of grief adds a peculiar finish to the spot. The cemetery is on an eminence, from which one gets a fine view of the ocean, dotted with ships."
Commodore Vanderbilt's early passion for horses still survives, and his stable contains some of the finest in the world. Nothing pleases him so well as to sit behind a fast team, with the reins in his hands, and fly along the road with almost the speed of the wind.
He is extremely generous to his friends, and gives liberally to charitable objects. He never puts his name to a subscription paper, but his donations are none the less liberal for that. His old acquaintances—especially those of his boyhood—find him a tender friend, and many of them owe to his bounty the comforts which surround their age.[[E]]
He is the father of thirteen children—nine daughters and four sons—nearly all of whom are still living. A few years ago, at the celebration of his golden wedding, over one hundred and forty of his descendants and relatives assembled to congratulate him. He lost a promising son during the war, and his wife died two years ago. Not long since he married a second time. He is still one of the handsomest and most imposing men in New York, and will doubtless live to see his children's grandchildren.
Footnote D: [(return)]
For the benefit of the uninitiated reader, we will explain the "game" more clearly. Harlem stock was selling at a high price, in consequence of the expected consolidation. Those who sold "short" at this time sold at the market price, which, as we have said, was high. By engaging to deliver at some future day, they expected to be able to buy the stock for little or nothing after the defeat of the bill, and then to demand for it the price for which they had sold it in the first place. Such a transaction was infamous, but would have enabled those engaged in it to realize immense sums by the difference in the price of the stock.
Footnote E: [(return)]
In July, 1870, Mr. Vanderbilt chanced to hear that the Rev. Dr. Deems, of New York, was in want of a church. Admiring the energy with which the reverend gentleman had built up his congregation in the short space of three years, Mr. Vanderbilt quietly made up his mind that he should not want in vain. Accordingly he bought the Mercer Street Presbyterian Church, and made the Doctor a present of it, keeping him in ignorance of his intention until he placed the title deeds in his hand.
CHAPTER X.
DANIEL DREW.
The name of Daniel Drew has so long been familiar in the financial circles of the country, that it is surprising that the history of his life is not more generally known.
He was born at Carmel, in Putnam County, New York, on the 29th of July, 1797. His father was a small farmer, with limited means, and had to work hard to provide his family with food and clothing. Young Daniel was brought up to work on the farm, and at such times as he could be spared from this work, was sent to the country school in the neighborhood, where he acquired but a meager stock of learning. When he was fifteen years old, his father died, leaving his family in an almost helpless condition. Young Daniel remained on the farm three years longer, and in 1815, being then eighteen years old, stared out to try and earn a living for himself.
He came to New York in search of employment, but the country, just then, was in too depressed a condition to afford him a chance in any regular business. After looking around for awhile, he at length became a cattle drover. He spent five years in driving cattle from Putnam County to New York for sale, but failed to make any money at the business.
In 1820, he removed to New York, and established his headquarters at the famous Bull's Head Tavern, in the Bowery, which was the great resort of the butchers and drovers doing business in the city. He kept this tavern a part of the time, and found it quite a profitable investment. He soon formed a partnership with two other drovers, and commenced buying cattle in the adjoining counties and bringing them to New York for sale.
These ventures were so successful that the operations of the firm were extended into Pennsylvania, and finally into Ohio and the other States of the great West. Mr. Drew and his partners brought over the mountains the first drove of cattle that ever came from the West into New York city. The cattle, two thousand in number, were collected into droves of one hundred each, and were driven by experienced and careful men. The journey occupied two months, and the total cost of the purchase and trip was twenty-four dollars per head. The profit on the venture was very large.
Mr. Drew continued in this business for fourteen years, slowly and carefully laying the foundations of that immense fortune which has made him so conspicuous, an example to others who have entered upon the life-struggle since then.
In 1834, an event occurred which changed the whole tenor of his career. In that year, the steamer "General Jackson," owned by Jacob Vanderbilt (a brother of the famous Commodore), and plying between New York and Peekskill, blew up at Grassy Point. A friend of Mr. Drew at once put a boat called the "Water Witch" in her place, and Mr. Drew, to oblige his friend, advanced one thousand dollars toward the enterprise. Commodore Vanderbilt was not willing that any rival should contest the river trade with him, and built a steamer called the "Cinderella," with which he ran a sharp opposition to Mr. Drew. The contest was so sharp that fares and freights were lowered to a ridiculous figure, and both parties lost heavily. At the end of the season, the owner of the "Water Witch" found himself ten thousand dollars in debt, and sold his boat to Drew, Kelly & Richards for twenty thousand dollars.
Finding that Mr. Drew was not frightened off by his opposition, Commodore Vanderbilt urged him to withdraw from his attempt, telling him he knew nothing of the management of steamboats. Mr. Drew refused to be intimidated; however, and continued his efforts. Since then, there have been fifty attempts to run him off the river, but all alike have failed of success.
In 1836, the "Water Witch" was replaced by a fine steamer called the "Westchester," which was subsequently run as a day boat to Hartford, Connecticut. The "Westchester" was run against the Hudson River Line, from New York to Albany. The Hudson River Line at that time owned the "De Witt Clinton," the "North America," and others—the finest steamboats then afloat—and it seemed at first foolhardiness for any one to attempt to oppose so popular a company. Mr. Drew and his partners bought the "Bright Emerald," for which they gave twenty-six thousand dollars, and ran her as a night boat between New York and Albany, reducing the fare from three dollars to one dollar. During the season, they bought the "Rochester" for fifty thousand dollars, and also bought out the Hudson River Line, after which they restored the fare to three dollars.
Several years later, Isaac Newton, who was largely interested in the towing business of the Hudson, built two splendid passenger steamers called the "North America" and the "South America." In 1840, Mr. Drew formed a partnership with Mr. Newton, and the celebrated "People's Line" was organized, which purchased all the passenger steamers owned by Drew and Newton. Mr. Drew was the largest stockholder in this company, which, to-day, after a lapse of nearly thirty years, still owns the most magnificent and popular steamers in the world. Soon after its organization, the company built the "Isaac Newton," the first of those floating palaces for which the Hudson is famed. Since then, it has built the "New World," the "St. John," the "Dean Richmond," and the "Drew," the last two of which cost over seven' hundred thousand dollars each. Repeated efforts have been made to drive this line from the river, but it has been conducted so judiciously and energetically, that, for nearly thirty years, it has held the first place in the public favor.
In 1847, George Law and Daniel Drew formed a partnership, and established a line of steamers between New York and Stonington, for the purpose of connecting with the railroad from the latter place to Boston. The "Oregon" and the "Knickerbocker" were placed on the route, and the enterprise proved a success. Mr. Drew and Commodore Vanderbilt secured a sufficient amount of stock in the railroad to give them a controlling interest in it, and by the year 1850 the Stonington Steamboat Line was firmly established.
When the Hudson River Railroad was opened, in 1852, it was confidently expected that the steamboat trade on the river would be destroyed, and the friends and enemies of Mr. Drew alike declared that he might as well lay up his boats, as he would find it impossible to compete with the faster time of the railroad. He was not dismayed, however, for he was satisfied that the land route could not afford to carry freight and passengers as cheap as they could be transported by water. He knew that it would only be necessary to reduce his passenger and freight rates below those of the railroad, to continue in the enjoyment of his immense business, and his faith in the steady expansion of the trade of the city induced him to believe that the time was close at hand when railroad and steamers would all have as much as they could do to accommodate it. His views were well founded, and his hopes have been more than realized. The river trade has steadily increased, while the Hudson River Railroad is taxed to its utmost capacity to accommodate its immense traffic.
In 1849, Mr. Drew, in connection with other parties, bought out the Champlain Transportation Company. This corporation had a capital of one hundred and fifty thousand dollars, and ran a line of five steamers from White Hall to the Canada end of the lake. The new proprietors ran the line seven years, and in 1856 sold out to the Saratoga and White Hall Railroad Company.
As a steamboat manager, Daniel Drew has few equals and no superiors. His ventures on the water have all been crowned with success, a result due entirely to his judicious and liberal management His employés are chosen with the greatest care, and generally remain with him during their lives. He is very liberal in his dealings with those who serve him faithfully, but will not tolerate a single careless or incompetent man, however unimportant may be his position. The steamers owned by him are almost entirely free from accidents, and such misfortunes as have befallen them have been those against which no skill or foresight could guard. He refuses to insure his boats, holding that care and prudence are the best safeguards against accidents, and thus saves half a million dollars. When the "Dean Richmond" was run down by the "Vanderbilt," a year or two ago, he lost nearly three hundred thousand dollars. He paid every claim presented by shippers and passengers, as soon as made, without submitting one of them to the adjudication of the courts.
In 1836, Mr. Drew entered the banking business in Wall Street, and in 1840 established the widely-known firm of Drew, Robinson & Co. This house engaged largely in the financial operations of the day, and became known as one of the most uniformly successful in its dealings of any in the city. Mr. Drew remained at the head of it for thirteen years, but in 1855 withdrew to make room for his son-in-law, Mr. Kelley. This gentleman died soon after his connection with the firm, and Mr. Drew resumed his old place.
Having succeeded so well in all his ventures, Mr. Drew now determined to enter another field. Railroad stocks were very profitable, and might be made to yield him an immense return for his investments, and he decided to invest a considerable part of his fortune in them. In 1855, he endorsed the acceptances of the Erie Railroad Company for five hundred thousand dollars. This was the first decided evidence the public had received of his immense wealth, and in 1857 another was given by his endorsement of a fresh lot of Erie acceptances amounting to a million and a half of dollars. This last indorsement was made in the midst of the great financial panic of 1857, and occasioned no little comment. Men could admire, though they could not understand, the sublime confidence which enabled Mr. Drew to risk a million and a half of dollars in the midst of such a terrible crisis. Some one asked him if he could sleep quietly at night with such large interests at stake. "Sir," he replied, calmly, "I have never lost a night's rest on account of business in my life."
In 1857, Mr. Drew was elected a director of the Erie Railroad Company, a position he held until recently. He was subsequently elected treasurer of the company, and is one of the principal holders of Erie stock. He is also one of the principal creditors of the company. The recent proceedings in the New York courts to prevent the Erie Road from issuing the new stock necessary to complete its broad-gauge connections with the West, are too fresh in the mind of the reader to need a recital of them here. It was proposed to issue ten millions of dollars worth of new stock, and Mr. Drew was to guarantee the bonds. After a tedious and costly suit, in which the New York Central Road endeavored to prevent the issue of the stock, in the hope of keeping the Erie Road from forming through connections with the West, the New York Legislature legalized the new issue, and a compromise was effected between Mr. Drew, in behalf of the Erie Road, and Commodore Vanderbilt, who represented the New York Central.
Mr. Drew still continues his operations in Wall Street, where he is known as one of the boldest and most extensive, as well as one of the most successful, of all the operators in railroad stocks. Though losing heavily at times, he has nevertheless been one of fortune's favorites. His efforts have not been confined to the Erie Road. He owns stock in other roads, and, together with Commodore Vanderbilt, took up the floating debt of over half a million of dollars which weighed down the Harlem Road, and placed it in its present prosperous condition.
He owns a fine grazing farm on the Harlem Railroad, about fifty miles from New York. It is situated in Carmel, in Putnam County; is nearly one thousand acres in extent, and includes the old farm on which he was born. He has made it one of the finest and most profitable in the State, and, it is said, values it above all his other possessions. He has improved and beautified it upon an extensive scale, and near the old grave-yard, where his parents lie sleeping, he has built one of the most beautiful churches in the land.
In 1811, Mr. Drew became a member of the Methodist Church, but for twenty-five years this connection was merely nominal. During all the years of his drover's life he kept himself free from the sins of intemperance and swearing. Once while riding out in a buggy with a friend, to look at some cattle, a thunder-storm came on, and his horse was killed in the shafts by lightning. This narrow escape from death made a deep impression on his mind, and in 1841 he united with the Mulberry Street Methodist Church, of which he became an active member and a trustee. The elegant marble structure now standing at the corner of Fourth Avenue and Twenty-second Street attests his liberality to this congregation. He is a trustee in the Wesleyan University, and has largely endowed that institution; and within the past few years has contributed several hundred thousand dollars for the endowment of the Drew Theological Seminary, which has been established at Madison, New Jersey, for the education of candidates for the Methodist ministry. He gives largely in aid of missionary work, and is one of the most liberal men in his denomination. It is said that he gives away at least one hundred thousand dollars annually in private charities, besides the large donations with which the public are familiar. He selects his own charities, and refuses promptly to aid those which do not commend themselves to him.
His property is estimated at twenty millions of dollars, and he is said to earn at least half a million of dollars every year. He has two children, a son and a daughter, the latter of whom is the wife of a clergyman of the Baptist Church.
Mr. Drew is about five feet ten inches high, and slenderly made. He is very active and vigorous for his age, and looks a much younger man than he is. His expression is firm, but withal pleasant. His features are regular, but dark and deeply marked, while his black hair is still unstreaked with gray. He is courteous and friendly in his intercourse, and is very much liked by his acquaintances.
CHAPTER XI.
JAMES B. EADS.
JAMES B. EADS was born in Lawrenceburg, Indiana, in the year 1820. His father was a man of moderate means, and was able to give him a fair English education. From his earliest childhood he evinced a remarkable fondness for all sorts of machinery and mechanical arrangements. This fondness became at length a passion, and excited the surprise of his friends, who could not imagine why a mere child should be so much interested in such things. His greatest delight was to go to the machine shops in his neighborhood, in which he had many friends, and watch the workings of the various inventions employed therein.
When he was nine years old his father removed to Louisville, Kentucky. During the voyage down the Ohio, young Eads passed the most of his time in watching the engines of the steamer. The engineer was so much pleased to see his interest in the machinery that he explained the whole system of the steam-engine to him. The boy listened eagerly, and every word remained fixed in his mind. Two years later, with no further instruction on the subject, he constructed a miniature engine, which was worked by steam. This, for a boy of eleven years, was no insignificant triumph of genius. His father, anxious to encourage such unmistakable talent, now fitted up a small workshop for him, in which he constructed models of saw mills, fire engines, steamboats, and electrotyping machines. When he was only twelve years old he was able to take to pieces and reset the family clock and a patent lever watch, using no tool for this purpose but his pocket-knife.
At the age of thirteen his pleasant employment was brought to a sudden end. His father lost all his property by the failure of some commercial transactions, and the family was brought to the verge of ruin. It now became necessary for young Eads to labor for his own support, and for that of his mother and sisters. Boy as he was, he faced the crisis bravely. Having in vain sought employment in Louisville, he resolved to go to St. Louis. He worked his passage there on a river steamer, and landed in that city so poor that he had neither shoes to his feet nor a coat to his back. He found it as difficult to procure work here as it had been in Louisville, and was at length compelled to resort to peddling apples on the street in order to secure a living. He did this for some time, never relaxing his efforts to obtain more desirable employment.
After many attempts he succeeded in getting a situation in a mercantile house, at a fair salary. One of his employers was a man of wealth and culture, and was possessed of one of the finest private libraries in the West. Learning the extraordinary mechanical talent possessed by his young clerk, this gentleman placed his library at his disposal. The offer was promptly and gratefully accepted, and young Eads devoted almost all his leisure time to the study of mechanics, machinery, and civil engineering. He remained with this house for several years, and then obtained a clerkship on one of the Mississippi River steamers, where he passed several years more. During this time he became intimately acquainted with the great river and its tributaries, and acquired an extensive knowledge of all subjects appertaining to western navigation, which proved of great service to him in his after life.
In 1842, being then twenty-two years old, and having saved a moderate sum of money, he formed a copartnership with Messrs. Case & Nelson, boat builders, of St. Louis, for the purpose of recovering steamboats and their cargoes which had been sunk or wrecked in the Mississippi. Accidents of this kind were then very common in those waters, and the business bade fair to be very profitable. The enterprise succeeded better than had been expected, and the operations of the wrecking company extended from Galena, Illinois, to the Balize, and into many of the tributaries of the great river. The parties interested in the scheme realized a handsome profit on their investments. Mr. Eads was the practical man of the concern, and worked hard to establish it upon a successful footing. In 1845 he sold out his interest in the company, and established a glass manufactory in St. Louis. This was the first enterprise of the kind ever attempted west of the Mississippi. Two years later, in 1847, he organized a new company for the purpose of recovering boats and cargoes lost in the Mississippi and its tributaries. This company started with a capital of fifteen hundred dollars. It was slow work at first, but a steady improvement was made every year, and in 1857, just ten years from the date of their organization, the property of the firm was valued at more than half a million of dollars. During the winter of 1856-'57, Mr. Eads laid before Congress a formal proposition to remove the obstructions from the western rivers and keep them open for a term of years, upon payment of a reasonable sum by the General Government. Had this proposition been accepted, the benefits thereby secured to all who were engaged in the navigation of those rivers would have been very great. A bill was reported in Congress authorizing the acceptance of Mr. Eads' offer, but was defeated through the influence of the Senators from Mississippi (Jefferson Davis) and Louisiana (J.P. Benjamin).
In 1857, Mr. Eads was compelled, on account of ill-health, to retire from business. He had earned a handsome fortune by his industry and enterprise, and could well afford to rest for a short time, preparatory, as it afterward proved, to the most important part of his whole career.
When the secession troubles began to agitate the country, toward the close of the year 1860, Mr. Eads cast the weight of his private and public influence on the side of the Union. He felt that the war, if it should come, would be a very serious affair for the West, as the prosperity of that section depends largely upon the absolute freedom of the navigation of the Mississippi. The Confederates well understood this, and prepared from the first to close the great river until their independence should be acknowledged by the General Government. Dr. Boynton, in his "History of the United States Navy During the Rebellion," thus describes the condition of affairs in the West, a proper understanding of which will show the reader the importance of the services subsequently rendered by Mr. Eads:
The main features of the rebel plan of war in the West were to seize and hold Missouri, and, as a consequence, Kansas and Nebraska, and thus threaten or invade the free States of the North-west from that point; to hold Kentucky and Tennessee, and, if possible, to cross the Ohio, and make the Northern States the theater of the war; or, in case they should be unable to invade the North, to maintain their battle line unbroken along the Ohio and through Missouri; to keep the great rivers closed, and thus holding back the North, and being secure within their own territory, at length compel the recognition of their independence. They certainly presented to the North a most formidable front, a line of defenses which was indeed impregnable to any means of assault which the Government at first possessed. No army could be moved into Tennessee by land alone, because the line of communication with a Northern base could not be held secure, and a defeat far from the Ohio would be the destruction of an army, and open the road for an invasion of Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio, and the destruction of their cities.
It was quite evident that no impression could be made upon the power of the rebellion in the West, until a firm foothold could be gained in Kentucky and Tennessee, and until the Mississippi could be wrested from the conspirators' control. It was clear that the whole seaboard might be regained, even to Florida, and yet the rebellion remain as dangerous as ever, if the rebels could hold the Mississippi River and the valley up to or near the Ohio.
France was looking with eager eyes toward Texas, in the hope of securing and extending her Mexican usurpation. England was ready to give all the assistance in her power to any step which would weaken the North; and had the rebels been pressed back from the seaports and the Northern Atlantic slope, they would have had it in their power, if still holding the Mississippi, the South-west, including Tennessee, and the great natural fortresses of the mountains, to have so connected themselves with Mexico and France as to have caused the most serious embarrassment. It became absolutely necessary to the success of the Government that the rebels' northern line of defenses should be broken through, and that the Mississippi should be opened to its mouth.
At first, and before the nature of the work was fully understood, the whole was placed under the direction of the War Department, as it was thought the few armed transports which would be needed would be a mere appendage of the army. The idea of a formidable river navy of a hundred powerful steamers did not in the beginning enter into the minds of any.
It was soon seen, however, that an entirely new description of craft was needed for this work. It was clear that the river boats, which had been built for the common purposes of freight and passage, were not capable of resisting the fire of heavy artillery, and that the batteries of the rebels could not be captured nor even passed by them. They could not even be safely employed alone in the transportation of troops, for they could be sunk or crippled by the field batteries that could be moved from point to point. The question of iron-clads was proposed, but with only the ocean iron-clads as a guide, who should conceive the proper form of an armored boat which could navigate our rivers and compete successfully with the heavy guns, rifled as well as smooth-bore, of the fortifications. It was by no means easy to solve this problem, but it was absolutely necessary that the attempt should be made.... These forts could only be reduced by the aid of gunboats, and these were almost literally to be created.
There was in the Cabinet of President Lincoln at this time a western man, intimately acquainted with the steamboat interest of the Mississippi. This was Edward Bates, the Attorney-General of the United States. He was an old friend of Mr. Eads, and felt assured that in case of war the services of that gentleman would be of the greatest value to the country. When it was found that hostilities could not be avoided, he mentioned the name of Mr. Eads to the Cabinet, and strongly urged that his services should be secured at the earliest possible moment. On the 17th of April, 1861, three days after Fort Sumter had fallen, he wrote to Mr. Eads, who was living in comfortable retirement, at St. Louis: "Be not surprised if you are called here suddenly by telegram. If called, come instantly. In a certain contingency it will be necessary to have the aid of the most thorough knowledge of our western rivers, and the use of steam on them, and in that event I have advised that you should be consulted."
A few days later Mr. Eads was summoned to Washington. Mr. Bates there explained to him in full a plan he had conceived for occupying Cairo, and endeavoring to hold the Mississippi by means of gunboats. Mr. Eads warmly indorsed the plan, and was introduced by Mr. Bates to the President and members of the Cabinet. When the plan was proposed to the Cabinet, the Secretary of War pronounced it unnecessary and impracticable, but the Secretary of the Navy was much impressed with it, and requested Mr. Eads to submit his views in writing, which was done. The paper embodied Judge Bates's general plan in addition to Mr. Eads's own views, and contained suggestions as to the kind of boats best fitted for service on the western rivers, and also in regard to the best points on those streams for the erection of land batteries. This paper was submitted to the Navy Department on the 29th of April, 1861, and was referred by the Secretary to Commodore Paulding, who reported in favor of its adoption.
The Secretary of the Navy now detailed Captain John Rodgers to accompany Mr. Eads to the West, and purchase and fit out such steamers as should be found necessary for the service. Up to this time the Secretary of War had manifested the most supreme indifference in regard to the whole subject, but he now claimed entire jurisdiction in the matter, and this interference caused considerable vexation and delay. At length he issued an order to Mr. Eads and Captain Rodgers to proceed with their purchases. These gentlemen obtained the approval of General McClellan, in whose department the purchases were to be made, and began their operations.
Upon arriving at Cairo, they found one of the old snag-boat fleet, called the "Benton." Mr. Eads knew the boat well, as he had formerly owned her, and proposed to purchase and arm her, but Captain Rodgers did not approve the plan for converting her into a gunboat. Mr. Eads then proposed to purchase and arm several of the strong, swift boats used for the navigation of the Missouri River, and equip them at St. Louis, from which point there would always be water enough to get them below Cairo. Captain Rodgers disapproved this plan also, and went to Cincinnati, where he purchased and equipped the "Conestoga," "Tyler," and "Lexington," and started them down the river. They were not iron-clad, but were merely protected around the boilers with coal bunkers, and provided with bullet-proof oaken bulwarks. Mr. Eads had warned Captain Rodgers that he could not depend upon the Ohio to get his boats down to Cairo, and his predictions were realized. The boats were started from Cincinnati some time in July; they were detained on the bars of the Ohio for six or seven weeks, and did not reach Cairo until about the first of September; then the bottom of the "Tyler" was found to be so badly damaged by sand-bars that she had to be put on the marine railway for repairs.
In July, 1861, the War Department advertised for proposals to construct a number of iron-clad gunboats for service on the Mississippi River. On the 5th of August, when the bids were opened, it was found that Mr. Eads proposed to build these boats in a shorter time and upon more favorable terms than any one else. His offer was accepted, and on the 7th of August he signed a contract with Quartermaster-General Meigs to have ready for their crews and armaments, in sixty-five days, seven vessels, of about six hundred tons each, each to draw six feet of water, to carry thirteen heavy guns, to be plated with iron two and a half inches thick, and to steam nine miles per hour. "They were one hundred and seventy-five feet long, and fifty-one and a half feet wide; the hulls of wood; their sides placed out from the bottom of the boat to the water line at an angle of about thirty-five degrees, and from the water line the sides fell back at about the same angle, to form a slanting casemate, the gun-deck being but a foot above water. This slanting casemate extended across the hull, near the bow and stern, forming a quadrilateral gun-deck. Three nine or ten-inch guns were placed in the bow, four similar ones on each side, and two smaller ones astern. The casemate inclosed the wheel, which was placed in a recess at the stern of the vessel. The plating was two and a half inches thick, thirteen inches wide, and was rabbeted on the edges to make a more perfect joint."
In undertaking to complete these vessels in sixty-five days, Mr. Eads had assumed a heavy responsibility. The manufacturing interests of the West were sadly crippled by the sudden commencement of hostilities, and doubt and distrust prevailed every-where. The worst feature of all was, that skilled workmen were either enlisting in the army or seeking employment in States more remote from the scene of war. Every thing needed for the gunboats was to be made. Even the timber for their hulls was still standing in the forest, and the huge machinery which was to roll out and harden their iron plates had yet to be constructed. No single city, no two cities, however great in resources, could possibly supply every thing needed within the stipulated time, and it was necessary to employ help wherever it could be obtained.
The very day the contract was signed, the telegraph was kept busy sending instructions all over the West for the commencement of the various parts of the work. The saw-mills in Kentucky, Tennessee, Illinois, Indiana, Ohio, Minnesota, and Missouri were set to getting out the timber, which was hurried to St. Louis by railroad and steamboat as fast as it was ready. There were twenty-one steam engines and thirty-five boilers to be made, and the machine-shops in St. Louis, Cincinnati, and Pittsburgh were put to work upon them. The huge rolling-mills of Cincinnati and Portsmouth, Ohio, Newport, Kentucky, and St. Louis were engaged in making the iron plates, and employed for this purpose no less than four thousand men. Night and day, Sundays included, the work went on with an almost superhuman swiftness. Mr. Eads paid the workmen on the hulls large sums from his own pocket, in addition to their wages, to induce them to continue steadily at their work.
On the 12th of October, 1861, just forty-five days from the time of laying her keel, the first iron-clad, belonging to the United States, was launched, with her engines and boilers on board. Rear Admiral Foote (then a flag officer), appointed to command the Mississippi squadron, named her the "St. Louis," but upon being transferred to the Navy Department her name was changed to the "Baron de Kalb." She was followed by the other vessels in rapid succession, all being completed within the stipulated time.
In September, 1861, General Fremont ordered the purchase of the snag boat "Benton," which had been proposed by Mr. Eads and rejected by Captain Rodgers, and sent her to Mr. Eads to be armored and equipped as a gunboat. Work was at once begun on her, and pushed forward with the same energy that had been displayed in the construction of the other iron-clads. Her performances during the war fully sustained the high esteem in which she was held by the officers of the navy. Admirals Foote and Davis pronounced her the "best iron-clad in the world."
By dint of such skill and energy as we have described, Mr. Eads, in the brief period of one hundred days, built and had ready for service a powerful iron-clad fleet of eight steamers, carrying one hundred and seven heavy guns, and having an aggregate capacity of five thousand tons. Such a work was one of the greatest in magnitude ever performed, and, as may be supposed, required a heavy capital to carry it to perfection. Mr. Eads soon exhausted his own means, and but for the assistance of friends, whose confidence in his integrity and capacity induced them to advance him large sums, would have been compelled to abandon the undertaking; for the Government, upon various pretexts, delayed for months the stipulated payments, and by its criminal negligence came near bringing the iron-clad fleet, so necessary to its success, to an untimely end. It was prompt enough, however, to commission the vessels as soon as they were ready. At the time they rendered such good service in the conquest of Forts Henry and Donelson, and compelled the fall of Island No. 10, they were still unpaid for, and the private property of Mr. Eads.
In the spring of 1862, Mr. Eads, in accordance with the desire of the Navy Department, submitted plans for light-draught armored vessels for service on the western rivers. He proposed an ingenious revolving turret to be used on these vessels, the performance of which he agreed to guarantee to the satisfaction of the Department; but the Government decided to use the Ericsson turret, which the recent encounter between the Monitor and Merrimac had proved to be a success. Mr. Eads was allowed, however, to modify the Ericsson turret considerably, in order to avoid making the draft of his steamers greater than was desired. He built the "Osage" and "Neosho," and when these vessels were launched, with all their weight on board, it was found that they were really lighter than the contract called for, a circumstance which permitted the thickness of their armor to be afterward increased half an inch without injuring their draught or speed.
In May, 1862, at the request of the Navy Department, Mr. Eads submitted plans for four iron-clads, iron hull propellers, to carry two turrets each of eight inches thickness, four eleven inch guns, and three-quarters inch deck armor, to steam nine nautical miles per hour, to carry three days' coal, and not to exceed a draught of six feet of water. His plans were accepted, and he constructed the "Winnebago," "Kickapoo," "Milwaukee," and "Chickasaw." Like the "Osage" and "Neosho," these vessels were found to be of lighter draught than had been agreed upon, and the Department ordered all four to have an extra plating of three-quarters inch armor, which was done. Three of the vessels were also reported, by the officers of the navy sent to examine them, to exceed the speed required by the contract, while the fourth was fully up to the standard.
Of how many "Government Contractors" during the war can it be said that their work was much better than they had agreed to furnish? Verily, we think Mr. Eads stands almost alone in this respect, his proud position made still more honorable by its comparative isolation.
Mr. Eads built, during the war, fourteen heavily armored gunboats, four heavy mortar boats, and converted seven transports into musket-proof gunboats, or "tin-clads," as they were called on the river. He had a share in other enterprises of a similar nature during the war, and besides rendering good service to the Union, was enabled to retire at the close of the struggle with a handsome fortune, won by his own patriotic skill and energy.
Whatever may be the distinction awarded to others, to him belongs the credit of having been the first to provide the Government with the means of securing that firm hold upon the great river of the West which, once gained, was never relaxed.
Mr. Eads resides in St. Louis. He is still in the prime of life, is admired and honored by his fellow-citizens, and affords a splendid example of what genius and industry can do for a poor, friendless boy in that glorious western country which is one day to be the seat of empire in the New World.
CHAPTER XII.
CYRUS W. FIELD.
Cyrus far we have been considering the struggles of men who have risen from obscure positions in life, by the aid of their own genius, industry, and courage, to the front rank of their respective callings. We shall now relate the story of one who having already won fortune, periled it all upon an enterprise in which his own genius had recognized the path to fame and to still greater success, but which the almost united voice of the people of his country condemned as visionary, and from which they coldly held aloof until its brilliant success compelled them to acknowledge the wisdom and foresight of its projector.
Fifteen years ago very few persons had heard of Cyrus W. Field. Ten years ago he had achieved considerable notoriety as a visionary who was bent on sinking his handsome fortune in the sea. To-day, the world is full of his fame, as the man to whom, above all others, it is indebted for the successful completion of the Atlantic Telegraph; and those who were formerly loudest in ridiculing him are now foremost in his praise. "Nothing succeeds like success," and what was once in their eyes mere folly, and worthy only of ridicule, they now hail as the evidences of his courage, foresight, and profound wisdom, and wonder that they never could see them in their true light before.
Cyrus West Field was born at Stockbridge, Massachusetts, on the 30th day of November, 1819, and is the son of the Rev. David Dudley Field, a distinguished clergyman of that State. He was carefully educated in the primary and grammar schools of his native county, and at the age of fifteen went to New York to seek his fortune. He had no difficulty in obtaining a clerkship in an enterprising mercantile house in that city, and, from the first, gave evidence of unusual business capacity. His employers, pleased with his promise, advanced him rapidly, and in a few years he became a partner in the house. His success as a merchant was uniform and marked—so marked, indeed, that in 1853, when only thirty-four years old, he was able to partially retire from business with a large fortune as the substantial reward of his mercantile career.
Mr. Field had devoted himself so closely to his business that, at his retirement, he resolved to seek recreation and change of scene in foreign travel, and accordingly he left New York, and passed the next six months in journeying through the mountains of South America. Upon his return home, at the close of the year 1853, he declared his intention to withdraw entirely from active participation in business, and to engage in no new schemes.
He had scarcely returned home, however, when his brother, Mr. Matthew D. Field, a successful and well-known civil engineer, informed him that he had just become acquainted with a Mr. Frederick N. Gisborne, of Newfoundland, who had come to New York for the purpose of interesting some American capitalists in a company which had been organized in Newfoundland for the purpose of procuring news in America and Europe, and transmitting it between the two continents with greater dispatch than was possible in the then existing mode of communication between the two countries. The scheme of Mr. Gisborne had commended itself to Mr. Matthew Field, and he urged his brother to meet that gentleman and hear his statements. Mr. Cyrus Field at once declined to undertake any share in the enterprise, and said that it would be useless for him to meet Mr. Gisborne; but his brother was so urgent that he at last consented to grant Mr. Gisborne an interview, and at least hear what he had to say. At the appointed time, Mr. Field received Mr. Gisborne at his house, and was there made acquainted with the proposed plan of operations of the "Electric Telegraph Company of Newfoundland." This company had gone into bankruptcy a short time previous, but Mr. Gisborne hoped to be able to revive it by the aid of American capital. The scheme which he laid before Mr. Field, can not be better stated than by quoting the following extract from the charter which the Legislature of Newfoundland had granted the bankruptcy company:
"The telegraph line of this company is designed to be strictly an 'Inter-Continental Telegraph,' Its termini will be New York, in the United States, and London, in the Kingdom of Great Britain; these points are to be connected by a line of electric telegraph from New York to St. John's, Newfoundland, partly on poles, partly laid in the ground, and partly through the water, and a line of the swiftest steamships ever built, from that point to Ireland. The trips of these steamships, it is expected, will not exceed five days, and as very little time will be occupied in transmitting messages between St. John's and New York, the communication between the latter city and London or Liverpool, will be effected in six days, or less. The company will have likewise stationed at St. John's a steam yacht, for the purpose of intercepting the European and American steamships, so that no opportunity may be lost in forwarding intelligence in advance of the ordinary channels of communication."
Mr. Field listened attentively to his visitor, but declined to commit himself to more than an expression of sympathy with the enterprise. After the departure of his guest, he took the globe which stood in his library, and turning it over, began to examine the proposed route of the telegraph line and the distance to be traversed by the steamers. While engaged in this examination, the idea flashed across his mind that instead of undertaking such a complicated scheme, it would be better to attempt to stretch a telegraph wire entirely across the ocean, from the shores of Newfoundland to the coast of Ireland. The vastness of this scheme pleased him, and its usefulness to the entire world, if it could be carried out, was clear to his mind from the first.
He at once set to work to ascertain if such an undertaking as an Atlantic telegraph was practicable. He wrote to Lieutenant Maury, then the Chief of the National Observatory at Washington, and asked if the laying of such a wire was possible; and to Professor Morse, the inventor of the telegraph, to know if such a wire would be available for sending messages if it could be laid. Lieutenant Maury promptly replied, inclosing a copy of a report he had just made to the Secretary of the Navy on the subject, from which Mr. Field learned that the idea of laying a telegraph across the ocean was not original with himself. In this report Lieutenant Maury demonstrated the entire practicability of such an enterprise, and sustained his conclusions by a statement of the recent discoveries concerning the bed of the ocean, made by Lieutenant Berryman. Professor Morse came in person to visit Mr. Field, and assured him of his entire faith in the possibility of sending telegraphic messages across the ocean with rapidity and success.
The two highest authorities in the world thus having assured him of the entire practicability of the undertaking, Mr. Field declared his readiness, if he could procure the assistance of a sufficient number of capitalists in the United States, to undertake the laying of a telegraph across the Atlantic between Europe and America. Further deliberation only made him better satisfied with the undertaking, and he set to work to find ten capitalists, each of whom he proposed should contribute one hundred thousand dollars, making the capital of the proposed company one million of dollars. Mr. Field was convinced that the undertaking would be expensive, but he had then but a faint conception of its magnitude, and was very far from supposing that "he might yet be drawn on to stake upon its success the whole fortune he had accumulated; that he was to sacrifice for it all the peace and quiet he had hoped to enjoy, and that for twelve years he was to be almost without a home, crossing and recrossing the sea, urging his enterprise in Europe and America."
The scientific questions involved in the undertaking were so little understood at the time by the public, and the popular judgment regarded the attempt to stretch a cable across the deep, mysterious ocean with so much incredulity, that Mr. Field had considerable trouble in finding gentlemen willing or prepared to share his faith in the enterprise. His first effort was to induce Mr. Peter Cooper, of New York, his next door neighbor, to join him, and he succeeded so well that Mr. Cooper consented to do so if several others would unite with them. Encouraged by his success with Mr. Cooper, whose name was a tower of strength to his cause, Mr. Field renewed his efforts, and succeeded in winning over the following gentlemen, and in the order named: Moses Taylor, Marshall O. Roberts, and Chandler White. These gentlemen were very slow to accept the views of Mr. Field, but, once having done so, they never lost faith in the ultimate success of the undertaking. The more thoroughly they became acquainted with its magnitude and costliness, the stronger grew their confidence in it, for this increase of knowledge not only showed them more plainly its difficulties and dangers, but developed new grounds on which to base their hopes.
Mr. Field was about to continue his efforts to procure additional names, when Mr. Cooper proposed that the five gentlemen already pledged to the scheme should undertake its entire cost without waiting for the other four. The proposition was agreed to, and it was decided to take the necessary steps to procure a charter for their company from the Legislature of Newfoundland. Mr. Field consented to undertake this, and at once set off for St. John's, accompanied by his brother, Mr. David Dudley Field, who was made the legal adviser of the company. At St. John's they were greatly aided by Mr. Archibald, then the Attorney-General of the Colony, and afterward the British Consul at New York, and by the Governor of Newfoundland. They succeeded in obtaining a charter from the Legislature under the name of the "New York, Newfoundland, and London Telegraph Company," with liberal grants in land and money. This accomplished, they assumed and paid the liabilities of the old Telegraph Company which had been brought to Mr. Field's notice by Mr. Gisborne, and thus removed the last difficulty in their way. This much accomplished, Mr. Field hastened back to New York, and on the 6th of May, 1854, the Company was formally organized at the residence of Mr. David Dudley Field. Messrs. Cooper, Taylor, Field, Roberts, and White were the first directors. Mr. Cooper, was made President of the Company, Mr. White, Vice-President, and Mr. Taylor Secretary. A capital of one million and a half of dollars was subscribed on the spot, Mr. Field contributing about two hundred thousand dollars in cash.
Work was at once begun on the section between New York and St. John's. There was no road across the island of Newfoundland, and the Company had not only to build their telegraph line, but to construct a road by the side of it through an almost unbroken wilderness. It was a work which required the highest executive ability, and the services of an army of men. The distance across the island was four hundred miles, and there were numerous rocky gorges, morasses, and rivers in the way. The country was a desolation, and it was found that supplies would have to be transported from St. John's. The execution of the work was committed to Mr. White, the Vice-President, who went to St. John's to act as the general agent of the Company, and to Mr. Matthew D. Field, who was appointed constructing engineer. These gentlemen displayed such skill and energy in their respective positions that in two years the Company had not only built a telegraph line and a road of four hundred miles across the island, but had constructed another line of one hundred and forty miles in the island of Cape Breton, and had stretched a submarine cable across the Gulf of St. Lawrence. [[F]] The line was now in working order from New York to St. John's, Newfoundland, a distance of one thousand miles, and it had required about a million of dollars for its construction. It now remained to complete the great work by laying the cable between Newfoundland and Ireland.
It being desirable to examine still further the bed of the ocean over which the cable was to be laid, Mr. Field requested the Government of the United States to send out an expedition over the route for the purpose of taking deep sea soundings. His request was promptly granted, and an expedition under Lieut. Berryman was dispatched, which proceeded to examine the ocean bed, with the most satisfactory results. This was accomplished in the summer of 1856, and the next year the same route was surveyed by Commander Daymon, with the British war steamer Cyclops—this survey being ordered by the Lords of the Admiralty, at Mr. Field's request. These surveys made it plain beyond question that a cable could lie safely on the bed of the sea, at a depth sufficient to protect it from vessels' anchors, from icebergs, and from submarine currents, and that it would receive sufficient support from that bed to free it from all undue tension. There was no doubt of the ultimate success of the enterprise in the minds of the directors, but it was necessary to convince the public in both Europe and America that it was not an impossibility, and also to enlist the sympathies of the Governments of Great Britain and the United States, and secure their assistance.
Mr. Field, who had made several voyages to England and to Newfoundland in behalf of the company, was elected Vice-President after the death of Mr. White, in 1856, and was charged with the duty of proceeding to England to obtain the assistance of the British Government, and to organize the company in London. Thus far the directors had borne the entire cost of the undertaking, and it was but fair that they should seek the means for completing their work in the country which was to be so much benefited by it. Mr. Field sailed for England in the summer of 1856, and upon reaching that country proceeded to consult some of its most eminent engineers and electricians. The English people were slow to believe that so long a cable could be successfully worked, even if laid intact, and to remove their doubts, the opinions of Professor Morse and Lieutenant Maury were published in their newspapers; and this publication brought out communications from many scientific men on the subject, a number of them advocating the undertaking. Thus, the attention of the English public was gained. Experiments were made by Professor Morse, Mr. Bright, and Dr. Whitehouse, which proved beyond all doubt the ease with which a continuous line of more than two thousand miles of wire could be worked; and Professor Morse was able, from these experiments, to declare his conviction that an electric current could pass between London and New York, on such a wire, in the space of one second.
Science had now done its utmost, and had in every thing sustained the great plan. It was now necessary to ask the aid of Her Majesty's Government. This effort was intrusted to Mr. Field, who carried it through successfully. The English Government agreed to furnish the ships necessary for making soundings and surveys, and to furnish vessels to assist in laying the cable. It also agreed to pay to the company an annual subsidy of fourteen thousand pounds for the transmission of the government messages until the net profits of the company were equal to a dividend of six pounds per cent., when the payment was to be reduced to ten thousand pounds per annum, for a period of twenty-five years. Provision was made for extra payment, in case the government messages exceeded a certain amount; and it was provided that the messages of the Governments of Great Britain and the United States should be placed upon an equal footing, and should have priority in the order in which they arrived at the stations. This last provision exhibited a decided liberality on the part of the English Government, since both ends of the proposed cable would be in British territory. Indeed, throughout the whole negotiation, Great Britain cheerfully accorded to the United States every privilege which she claimed for herself.
Having secured the aid of the Queen's Government on such liberal terms, Mr. Field now undertook the organization of the company, in addition to the task of raising a capital of three hundred and fifty thousand pounds. In both efforts he was effectively assisted by Mr. John W. Brett, who had laid the first cable across the English Channel, and by Mr. Charles T. Bright and Dr. Edward O.W. Whitehouse. The efforts of these gentlemen were successful. In a few weeks the whole capital was subscribed. It had been divided into three hundred and fifty shares of a thousand pounds each. One hundred and one of these were taken up in London, eighty-six in Liverpool, thirty-seven in Glasgow, twenty-eight in Manchester, and a few in other parts of England. Mr. Field, at the final division of shares, took eighty-eight. He did not design making this investment on his own account, but thinking it but fair that at least one-fourth of the stock should be held in America, he made this subscription with the intention of disposing of his shares after his return home. Owing to his continued absence from New York, and the straitened condition of the money market, it was nearly a year before he could succeed in selling as much as twenty-seven shares. The company was organized in December, 1856, a Board of Directors elected, and a contract made for the cable, half of which was to be made in London and the other half in Liverpool.
The day after the organization of the company, Mr. Field sailed for New York, from which place he at once made a voyage to Newfoundland, to look after some matters which required his presence. Returning home, he hurried to Washington, to secure the aid of the General Government. He met with more opposition here than he had encountered in England. A powerful lobby opposed him, and a spirit of hostility to his bill exhibited itself in Congress, and to such a degree that the measure passed the Senate by a majority of only one vote. It came very near failing in the House, but at length got through, and received the President's signature on the 3d of March, 1857.
In the summer of 1857, Mr. Field having returned to England, the cable was declared to be in readiness for laying. The United States Government now placed at the disposal of the Telegraph Company the magnificent new steam frigate "Niagara," as the most suitable vessel for laying the cable, and ordered the "Susquehanna," the largest side-wheel frigate in the service, to accompany her in the expedition. The British Government provided the steam frigate "Agamemnon," a splendid vessel, which had been the flagship of the English fleet at the bombardment of Sebastopol, and ordered the "Leopard" to accompany her as an escort. The "Niagara" was commanded by Captain W.L. Hudson, of the United States Navy, and the "Agamemnon" by Captain Noddal, of the Royal Navy. The "Niagara" took on her share of the cable at Liverpool, and the "Agamemnon" received hers at London. It was agreed that the "Niagara" should begin the laying of the cable, and continue it until her portion of it should be exhausted in mid-ocean, when her end of it should be united with the cable on board the "Agamemnon," which ship should continue laying the line until the shores of Newfoundland were reached. After taking on the cable, the ships were ordered to Queenstown.
The vessels left England in the midst of general rejoicings, and arrived at the rendezvous at the proper time. Thence they sailed for the harbor of Valentia, which was to be the eastern terminus of the line and the starting point of the expedition. They were greeted every-where with enthusiasm, and the greatest confidence in the success of the enterprise was manifested by those on board. Mr. Field, Professor Morse, and several other officers of the company were on board the "Niagara," as that ship was to conduct the first part of the sinking of the cable.
At length all was in readiness. The shore end of the cable was landed and made fast on Wednesday afternoon, the 5th of August, and the next morning the fleet stood out to sea. "Before they had gone five miles the heavy shore end of the cable caught in the machinery and parted. The 'Niagara' put back, and the cable was 'underrun' the whole distance. At length the end was lifted out of the water and spliced to the gigantic coil, and as it dropped safely to the bottom of the sea, the mighty ship began to stir. At first she moved very slowly, not more than two miles an hour, to avoid the danger of accident; but the feeling that they are at last away is itself a relief. The ships are all in sight, and so near that they can hear each other's bells. The 'Niagara,' as if knowing that she is bound for the land out of whose forests she came, bends her head to the waves, as her prow is turned toward her native shores.
"Slowly passed the hours of that day. But all went well, and the ships were moving out into the broad Atlantic. At length the sun went down in the west, and stars came out on the face of the deep. But no man slept. A thousand eyes were watching a great experiment, as those who have a personal interest in the issue. All through that night, and through the anxious days and nights that followed, there was a feeling in every soul on board as if a friend in the cabin were at the turning-point of life or death, and they were watching beside him. There was a strange, unnatural silence in the ship. Men paced the deck with soft and muffled tread, speaking only in whispers, as if a loud voice or a heavy footfall might snap the vital cord. So much had they grown to feel for the enterprise, that the cable seemed to them like a human creature, on whose fate they hung, as if it were to decide their own destiny.
"There are some who will never forget that first night at sea. Perhaps the reaction from the excitement on shore made the impression the deeper. What strange thoughts came to them as they stood on the deck and watched that mysterious cord disappearing in the darkness, and gliding to its ocean bed! There are certain moments in life when every thing comes back upon us—when the events of years seem crowded into an hour. What memories came up in those long night hours! How many on board that ship thought of homes beyond the sea, of absent ones, of the distant and the dead! Such thoughts, mingling with those suggested by the scene around, added to the solemnity of the hour, had left an impression which can never be forgotten.
"But with the work in hand all is going on well. There are vigilant eyes on deck. Mr. Bright, the engineer of the company, is there, and Mr. Everett, Mr. De Sauty, the electrician, and Professor Morse. The paying-out machinery does its work, and though it makes a constant rumble in the ship, that dull, heavy sound is music to their ears, as it tells them that all is well. If one should drop to sleep, and wake up at night, he has only to hear the sound of 'the old coffee-mill,' and his fears are relieved, and he goes to sleep again."
Saturday and Sunday passed away without accident, but on Monday, when two hundred miles at sea, in deep water, and safely beyond the great submarine mountain, the electrical continuity was suddenly lost. This interruption amazed and perplexed all on board, but no one was able to remedy it, or to account for it satisfactorily. It lasted for two hours, and then, just as the order was about to be given to cut the cable and endeavor to wind it in, it came back as suddenly and mysteriously as it had disappeared. The greatest delight was now manifested by all on board. "You could see," says the correspondent of the London Times, "the tears of joy standing in the eyes of some as they almost cried for joy, and told their mess-mates that it was all right."
That night, however, the expedition came to grief. The cable was running out freely at the rate of six miles per hour, while the ship was making only four. This was supposed to be owing to a powerful undercurrent. To check this waste of the cable the engineer applied the brakes firmly, which at once stopped the machine. The effect was to bring a heavy strain on the cable that was in the water. The stern of the ship was down in the trough of the sea, and as it rose upward on the swell, the pressure was too great, and the cable parted. The alarm was at once given, and the greatest consternation and grief prevailed on board. "It made all hands of us through the day," says Captain Hudson, "like a household or family which had lost their dearest friend, for officers and men had been deeply interested in the success of the enterprise."
The fleet immediately put about and returned to England, where Mr. Field at once informed the directors of the extent of the disaster. The remaining portions of the cable were landed and stored safely away, and the vessels were returned to their respective Governments. Orders were given for the manufacture of seven hundred miles of cable to replace the portion which had been lost, and to allow for waste in paying it out, and the most energetic preparations were made for another attempt.
Being satisfied that the machine used for paying out the cable was defective, Mr. Field went to Washington and procured from the Navy Department the services of Mr. Wm. E. Everett, the chief engineer of the "Niagara," stating to that gentleman the necessity for a new machine, and urging him to invent it. This Mr. Everett succeeded in doing during the winter. His machine was regarded as a great improvement on that which had been used on the "Niagara." "It was much smaller and lighter. It would take up only about one third as much room on the deck, and had only one fourth the weight of the old machine. Its construction was much more simple. Instead of four heavy wheels, it had but two, and these were made to revolve with ease, and without danger of sudden check, by the application of what were known as self-releasing brakes. These were the invention of Mr. Appold, of London, a gentleman of fortune, but with a strong taste for mechanics, which led him to spend his time and wealth in exercising his mechanical ingenuity. These brakes were so adjusted as to bear only a certain strain, when they released themselves. This ingenious contrivance was applied by Mr. Everett to the paying-out machinery. The strength of the cable was such that it would not break except under a pressure of a little over three tons. The machinery was so adjusted that not more than half that strain could possibly come upon the cable, when the brakes would relax their grasp, the wheels revolve easily, and the cable run out into the sea 'at its own sweet will.' The paying-out machine, therefore, we are far from claiming as wholly an American invention. This part of the mechanism was English. The merit of Mr. Everett lay in the skill with which he adapted it to the laying of the Atlantic cable, and in his great improvements of other parts of the machinery. The whole construction, as it afterward stood upon the decks of the 'Niagara' and the 'Agamemnon,' was the combined product of English and American invention."
In January, 1858, the Board of Directors offered Mr. Field the sum of five thousand dollars per annum if he would assume the post of general manager of the company. He at once undertook the duties of the position, but declined all compensation.
Every thing being in readiness for the second attempt at laying the cable, the "Niagara" sailed from New York in March, 1858, to take on her portion of the cable at Plymouth. The "Agamemnon" was again ordered to assist in the undertaking, and the "Gorgon" was made her consort Mr. Field had hoped that the "Susquehanna" would again be the consort of the "Niagara," but a few days before the sailing of the fleet he was officially informed that he could not have the ship, as she was then in the West Indies, with the greater part of her crew down with the yellow fever. This was a keen disappointment, as every arrangement had been made with the expectation of having the assistance of the "Susquehanna." It was too late to ask the Government at Washington for another ship, and it was by no means certain that the request would be granted if made. In this dilemma Mr. Field frankly stated his disappointment to the Lords of the Admiralty of England, and asked for a ship to accompany the "Niagara." He was informed that the English Government was at that moment chartering vessels to convey troops to Malta, as it had not ships enough of its own, and that it was doubtful whether it could contribute a third ship to the expedition. Still, so greatly did the government desire the success of the enterprise, that a little later on the same day the "Valorous" was ordered to take the place of the "Susquehanna" in the telegraph fleet. This generous assistance was all the more praiseworthy, as it was given at a time when the need of England for ships was very urgent.
After shipping the cable, the squadron sailed from Plymouth on the 29th of May, 1868, for the Bay of Biscay, where the cable was subjected to numerous and thorough tests, which demonstrated its strength and its sensitiveness to the electric current. This accomplished, the vessels returned to Plymouth.
"Among the matters of personal solicitude and anxiety at this time, next to the success of the expedition, was Mr. Field himself. He was working with an activity which was unnatural—which could only be kept up by great excitement, and which involved the most serious danger. The strain on the man was more than the strain on the cable, and we were in fear that both would break together. Often he had no sleep, except such as he caught flying on the railway. Indeed, when we remonstrated, he said he could rest better there than anywhere else, for then he was not tormented with the thought of any thing undone. For the time being he could do no more; and then, putting his head in the cushioned corner of the carriage, he got an hour or two of broken sleep.
"Of this activity we had an instance while in Plymouth. The ships were then lying in the Sound, only waiting orders from the Admiralty to go to sea; but some business required one of the directors to go to Paris, and, as usual, it fell upon him. He left on Sunday night, and went to Bristol, and thence, by the first morning train, to London. Monday he was busy all day, and that night went to Paris. Tuesday, another busy day, and that night back to London. Wednesday, occupied every minute till the departure of the Great Western train. That night back to Plymouth. Thursday morning on board the 'Niagara,' and immediately the squadron sailed."
The plan of operations this time was for the vessels to proceed to a given point in mid-ocean, and there unite the two ends of the cable, after which the "Niagara" should proceed toward Newfoundland and the "Agamemnon" toward Ireland, and it was supposed that each vessel would make land about the same time. This was believed to be a better plan than the one pursued in the first expedition.
The squadron sailed from Plymouth on the 10th of June. The weather was favorable for the first two or three clays of the voyage, but on the 13th a severe gale set in, which lasted for over a week, and came near causing the "Agamemnon" to founder beneath her immense load, a portion of which broke loose in her hold. All the vessels succeeded in weathering the storm, however, and on the 25th reached the rendezvous in mid-ocean. The next day the splice was made, and the ships set out for their respective destinations. Before they had gone three miles the machinery of the "Niagara" caught the cable and broke it. A second splice was made, but when each ship had paid out about forty miles, the electric current suddenly ceased. The cable was cut promptly, and the two vessels at once returned to the rendezvous, where they rejoined each other on the 28th. A comparison of the logs of the two ships "showed the painful and mysterious fact that at the same second of time each vessel discovered that a total fracture had taken place, at a distance of certainly not less than ten miles from each ship, in fact, as well as can be judged, at the bottom of the ocean." A third splice was made without delay, and the two ships again set out for the opposite shores of the Atlantic. This time about two hundred miles of the cable were successfully laid, when it parted about twenty feet from the stern of the "Agamemnon." The "Niagara," being unable to communicate with the English frigate, bore away for Queenstown, where she was joined a few days later by the "Agamemnon."
This second failure greatly disheartened the directors, and it required all Mr. Field's persuasiveness to induce them to sanction another attempt. Yet he prevailed, and, hastening from London to Queenstown, sailed with the telegraph fleet on the third attempt to lay the cable, leaving Queenstown on the 17th of July. The rendezvous was reached on the 28th, and on the 29th the splice was made; and the "Niagara" and "Agamemnon" parted company. This time the undertaking was successful. The cable was laid across the Atlantic, the "Niagara" reaching Trinity Bay, Newfoundland, on the 5th of August, and the "Agamemnon" arriving at Valentia, Ireland, a few hours later on the same day. Signals were sent across the entire length of the line, from shore to shore, with ease and rapidity, and nothing occurred to mar the success of the mighty undertaking.
The successful laying of the cable was hailed with the liveliest joy on both sides of the Atlantic, and those who had participated in it were regarded as heroes. But great as was the achievement, it was not destined to be a lasting success. After working for four weeks, the electric current suddenly ceased on the 1st of September. It never worked perfectly at any period of its existence, but it did transmit a number of messages with intelligibleness, and thus put an end to all doubt in the minds of the scientific men of the expedition of the feasibility of laying a successful line across the ocean.
The public generally and the directors of the company were greatly disappointed, and many of-the latter and nearly all of the former declared that all such attempts must of necessity fail. Some persons even went so far as to avow their belief that the statements as to the successful transmission of signals over the wire were false; but the proofs that the wire did work properly for awhile are too strong to allow us to accord the slightest weight to this disbelief. But whether signals had passed over the wire or not, there could be no doubt that the cable had ceased to respond to the efforts of the electricians, and was a total failure, and the discouragement of nearly every one connected with it was most profound.
Mr. Field and one or two others were the only persons who retained the slightest confidence in the enterprise, and it was clear to them that any further effort to secure the aid of private capital would be useless just then. An appeal was made to the British Government. It was urged that the work was too great to be undertaken by private capital alone, and that, since it was to be more of a public than a private nature, it was but just that the Government should undertake it. The company asked the Government to guarantee the interest on a certain amount of stock, even if the second attempt should not prove a complete success. The failure of the Red Sea cable, to which the British Government had given an unconditional guarantee, had just occurred, and had caused a considerable loss to the treasury, and the Government was not willing to assume another such risk. Anxious, however, for the success of the Atlantic telegraph, it increased its subsidy from fourteen thousand to twenty thousand pounds, and agreed to guarantee eight per cent, on six hundred thousand pounds of new capital for twenty-five years, upon the single condition that the cable should be made to work successfully.
This was not all, however. The Government caused further soundings to be made off the coast of Ireland, which effectually dispelled all the fears which had been entertained of a submarine mountain which would prove an impassable barrier in the path of an ocean telegraph. In addition to this, it caused the organization of a board of distinguished scientific men for the purpose of determining all the difficult problems of submarine telegraphy. This board met in 1859, and sat two years. The result of its experiments and investigations was a declaration, signed by the members, that a cable properly made, "and paid into the ocean with the most improved machinery, possesses every prospect of not only being successfully laid in the first instance, but may reasonably be relied upon to continue many years in an efficient-state for the transmission of signals."
Meanwhile, Mr. Field labored energetically to revive the company. The war which had broken out in the United States brought home to our Government the urgent need of telegraphic communication with Europe, and Mr. Field had no difficulty in obtaining from the President an assurance that this Government would be most happy to join with Great Britain in promoting this great international work. He addressed meetings of merchants in various American cities, and displayed the greatest energy in his efforts to enlist the aid of American capital. Very little was accomplished, however, until 1863. By this time the success of the lines in the Mediterranean and in the Persian Gulf had demonstrated the practicability of long submarine telegraphs, and the public confidence in the attempt had been revived to such an extent that the directors ventured to call for proposals for the manufacture of a cable. Seventeen offers were made, from which that of Messrs. Glass, Elliott & Co., of London, was selected. Mr. Field now renewed his indomitable efforts, and in a few months the new capital of six hundred thousand pounds was subscribed, Messrs. Glass, Elliott &, Co. taking three hundred and fifteen thousand pounds, besides one hundred thousand pounds in bonds. This was accomplished in 1864, and work on the cable was immediately begun. The cable now adopted was very different from, and much more sensitive than, those which had been used before. It was heavier, and less liable to be injured by the water.
The "Great Eastern" steamship, the greatest wonder of naval architecture, was at this time advertised for sale, and it occurred to several of the gentlemen interested in the telegraph company that she was the best vessel for laying the cable that could be found. They at once organized themselves into a company, purchased the ship, and fitted her up for that service. They were fortunate in securing the services of Captain James Anderson, and placing him in charge of her, sent her to Sheerness, where the cable was sent down to her in lighters from the factory at Greenwich. When the cable was on board, and all the other arrangements had been completed, the big ship left the Thames and sailed for Valentia harbor.
The point of landing had been changed from Valentia harbor, five or six miles, to Foilhommerum Bay. On the 23d of July, 1865, the shore end was connected with the cable on board the ship, and the voyage was begun. It would be interesting to follow the huge steamer on this remarkable voyage, and to relate to the reader the almost marvelous manner in which faults were detected in the line hundreds of miles from the shore, and how the cable was successfully hauled in and the damage repaired. All went well until twelve hundred miles of cable had been paid out, and the ship was but six hundred miles from the shores of Newfoundland, when the cable broke again and plunged into the sea.
Mr. Canning, the engineer in charge, was dismayed, but not disheartened. For nine days the ship hung around the spot grappling for the cable, in the hope of raising it, and sinking its grapnels for this purpose to a depth of two miles. The cable was caught several times, but the rope which held the grapnel broke each time, and the precious coil fell back again into the deep. At length, having marked the place where the cable was lost with buoys, the ship put back for England, and the enterprise was abandoned for that year.
Though unsuccessful in carrying the cable across the ocean, this expedition was by no means a failure. Its results are thus summed up by the officers in charge of it:
1. It was proved by the expedition of 1858 that a submarine telegraph cable could be laid between Ireland and Newfoundland, and messages transmitted through the same.
By the expedition of 1865 it has been fully demonstrated:
2. That the insulation of a cable improves very much after its submersion in the cold deep water of the Atlantic, and that its conducting power is considerably increased thereby.
3. That the steamship "Great Eastern," from her size and constant steadiness, and from the control over her afforded by the joint use of paddles and screw, renders it safe to lay an Atlantic cable in any weather.
4. That in a depth of over two miles four attempts were made to grapple the cable. In three of them the cable was caught by the grapnel, and in the other the grapnel was fouled by the chain attached to it.
5. That the paying-out machinery used on board the Great Eastern worked perfectly, and can be confidently relied on for laying cables across the Atlantic.
6. That with the improved telegraphic instruments for long submarine lines, a speed of more than eight words per minute can be obtained through such a cable as the present Atlantic one between Ireland and Newfoundland, as the amount of slack actually paid out did not exceed fourteen per cent., which would have made the total cable laid between Valentia and Heart's Content nineteen hundred miles.
7. That the present Atlantic cable, though capable of bearing a strain of seven tons, did not experience more than fourteen hundred-weight in being paid out into the deepest water of the Atlantic between Ireland and Newfoundland.
8. That there is no difficulty in mooring buoys in the deep water of the Atlantic between Ireland and Newfoundland, and that two buoys even when moored by a piece of the Atlantic cable itself, which had been previously lifted from the bottom, have ridden out a gale.
9. That more than four nautical miles of the Atlantic cable have been recovered from a depth of over two miles, and that the insulation of the gutta-percha covered wire was in no way whatever impaired by the depth of water or the strains to which it had been subjected by lifting and passing through the hauling-in apparatus.
10. That the cable of 1865, owing to the improvements introduced into the manufacture of the gutta-percha core, was more than one hundred times better insulated than cables made in 1858, then considered perfect and still working.
11. That the electrical testing can be conducted with such unerring accuracy as to enable the electricians to discover the existence of a fault immediately after its production or development, and very quickly to ascertain its position in the cable.
12. That with a steam-engine attached to the paying-out machinery, should a fault be discovered on board whilst laying the cable, it is possible that it might be recovered before it had reached the bottom of the Atlantic, and repaired at once.
It was now placed beyond the possibility of a doubt that the cable would be laid within the next year. More than this, it was determined not only to lay a new cable between the two continents, but to fish up the cable of 1865, splice it and continue it to Newfoundland, thus giving the company two working lines.
It was necessary, however, to raise more capital, and in this effort Mr. Field again put forth his restless and indomitable energies. As the public confidence in the scheme had been effectually restored, it was resolved to raise six hundred thousand pounds of new capital by the issue of one hundred and twenty thousand shares of five pounds each, which should be preferential shares, entitled to a dividend of twelve per cent, before the eight per cent, dividend to be paid on the former preference shares, and the four per cent, on the ordinary stock. They at once proceeded to issue these bonds, when they were informed by the Attorney-General that the proceeding was contrary to law.
In this dilemma work on the new cable was at once stopped, and the money which had been paid in returned to the subscribers. As Parliament was not in session, and a new issue of stock could not be made by the company without its authorization, and as to wait for this would be to postpone the laying of the cable for another year, Mr. Field was now advised by Mr. Daniel Gooch, M.P., that the only way out of the difficulty was to organize a new company at once, which should assume the work, issue its own shares, and raise its own capital. Eminent legal gentlemen sustained Mr. Gooch in this opinion, and Mr. Field again set to work to organize a new company, under the name of the "Anglo-American Telegraph Company." The capital was fixed at six hundred thousand pounds, Mr. Field taking ten thousand pounds. The whole amount was raised in a short time, and the company "contracted with the Atlantic Cable Company to manufacture and lay down a cable in the summer of 1866, for doing which it is to be entitled to what virtually amounts to a preference dividend of twenty-five per cent., as a first claim is secured to them by the Atlantic Telegraph Company upon the revenue of the cable or cables (after the working expenses have been provided for) to the extent of one hundred and twenty-five thousand pounds per annum, and the New York, Newfoundland, and London Telegraph Company undertake to contribute from their revenue a further annual sum of twenty-five thousand pounds, on condition that a cable shall be working during 1866."
Once more the furnaces glowed and the hammers rang in the manufacture of the cable. Great improvements were made in the cable itself and in the machinery for laying it, and the "Great Eastern" was thoroughly overhauled. The cable was completed and put on board in June, and the big ship left the Medway on the last of the month and proceeded to Berehaven, in Ireland, where she took on her final stores of coal. This done, she proceeded to Valentia, where she arrived on the seventh of July.
The shore end was successfully laid and made fast to the cable on board the "Great Eastern," and on Friday morning, the 13th of July, 1866, the huge ship set sail for Newfoundland, accompanied by her consorts of the telegraph fleet. The voyage occupied fourteen days, the ship making an average run of about one hundred and eighteen miles per day, and paying out about one hundred and thirty-one miles of cable in the same period of time. The weather was fair during the whole voyage, but the anxiety of the officers in charge was none the less on that account. There were accidents to be dreaded more than unfavorable weather. The ship was run at moderate speed all the way, as it was thought she had once or twice run too fast on the last voyage, and exposed the cable to danger. "The total slack of the cable was less than twelve per cent., showing that the cable was laid almost in a straight line, allowing for the swells and hollows in the bottom of the sea.
"As the next week drew toward its close, it was evident that they were approaching the end of their voyage. By Thursday they had passed the great depths of the Atlantic, and were off soundings. Besides, their daily observations, there were many signs well known to mariners that they were near the coast. There were the sea-birds, and even the smell of the land, such as once greeted the sharp senses of Columbus, and made him sure that he was floating to some undiscovered shore. Captain Anderson had timed his departure so that he should approach the American coast at the full moon; and so, for the last two or three nights, as they drew near the Western shore, the round orb rose behind them, casting its soft light over sea and sky; and these happy men seemed like heavenly voyagers, floating gently on to a haven of rest.
"In England the progress of the expedition was known from day to day, but on this side of the ocean all was uncertainty. Some had gone to Heart's Content, hoping to witness the arrival of the fleet, but not so many as the last year, for the memory of their disappointment was too fresh, and they feared the same result again. But still a faithful few were there, who kept their daily watch. Two weeks have passed. It is Friday morning, the 27th of July. They are up early, and looking eastward to see the day break, when a ship is seen in the offing. She is far down on the horizon. Spy-glasses are turned toward her. She comes nearer; and look, there is another, and another! And now the hull of the 'Great Eastern' looms up all glorious in that morning sky. They are coming! Instantly all is wild excitement on shore. Boats put off to row toward the fleet. The 'Albany' is the first to round the point and enter the bay. The 'Terrible' is close behind; the 'Medway' stops an hour or two to join on the heavy shore end, while the 'Great Eastern,' gliding calmly in as if she had done nothing remarkable, drops her anchor in front of the telegraph house, having trailed behind her a chain of two thousand miles, to bind the old world to the new.
"Although the expedition reached Newfoundland on Friday, the 27th, yet, as the cable across the Gulf of St. Lawrence was broken, the news was not received in New York till the 29th. It was early Sunday morning, before the Sabbath bells had rung their call to prayer, that the tidings came. The first announcement was brief: 'Heart's Content, July 27th. We arrived here at nine o'clock this morning. All well. Thank God, the cable is laid, and is in perfect working order. Cyrus W. Field.'"
There was no failure in the communication this time. The electric current has continued to flow strongly and uninterruptedly from that day until the present, and experience has demonstrated for the wonderful wire a capacity far beyond the hopes of its projectors.
Having laid the cable, the "Great Eastern" proceeded with surprising accuracy to where the line had been lost the year before, and succeeded in grappling and raising it to the surface. It was tested, and found to be in perfect order, messages being sent with ease from the ship to Valentia, and from that point back again. A splice was then made, and the line was continued to Newfoundland. Both cables are still working, and bid fair to be serviceable for many years to come.
Many persons had contributed to this great success, but to Cyrus W. Field must be assigned the chief praise. His energy and perseverance kept the subject constantly before the public. His courage inspired others, and his faith in its ultimate success alone kept its best friends from abandoning it in its darkest hours. In its behalf he spent twelve years of constant toil, and made over fifty voyages, more than thirty of which were across the Atlantic. He devoted his entire fortune to the undertaking, of which he was the projector and cheerfully incurred the risk of poverty rather than abandon it. Therefore, it is but just that he, who was the chief instrument in obtaining for the world this great benefit, should receive the chief measure of the praise which it has brought to all connected with it.
Footnote F: [(return)]
The first effort to lay a cable in the Gulf of St. Lawrence was made by this Company, in August, 1855. It was a failure, and the cable was lost. The second attempt was made in the summer of 1856, and was entirely successful.
III. INVENTORS.
CHAPTER XIII.
ROBERT FULTON.
One of the pleasantest as well as one of the most prominent places in the city of New York is the grave-yard of old Trinity Church. A handsome iron railing separates it from Broadway, and the thick rows of grave-stones, all crumbling and stained with age, present a strange contrast to the bustle, vitality, and splendor with which they are surrounded. They stare solemnly down into Wall Street, and offer a bitter commentary upon the struggles and anxiety of the money kings of the great city. Work, toil, plan, combine as you may, they seem to say, and yet it must all come to this.
Not far from the south door of the church, and shaded by a venerable tree, is a plain brown stone slab, bearing this inscription: "The vault of Walter and Robert C. Livingston, sons of Robert Livingston, of the manor of Livingston." A stranger would pass it by without a second glance; yet it is one of the Meccas of the world of science, for the mortal part of Robert Fulton sleeps in the vault below, without monument or legendary stone to his memory, but in sight of the mighty steam fleets which his genius called forth. Very few visitors ever see this part of the churchyard, and the grave of Fulton is unknown to nine out of ten of his countrymen. Yet this man, sleeping so obscurely in his grave without a name, did far more for the world than either Napoleon or Wellington. He revolutionized commerce and manufactures, changed the entire system of navigation, triumphed over the winds and the waves, and compelled the adoption of a new system of modern warfare. Now he lies in a grave not his own, with no monument or statue erected to his memory in all this broad land.
Robert Fulton was born in the township of Little Britain (now called Fulton), in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania, in 1765. He was of Irish descent, and his father was a farmer in moderate circumstances. He was the eldest son and third child of a family of five children. The farm upon which he was born was conveyed by his father in 1766 to Joseph Swift, in whose family it still remains. It contains three hundred and sixty-four acres, and is one of the handsomest farms in Lancaster County.
After disposing of his farm, Mr. Fulton, senior, removed to the town of Lancaster, where he died in 1768, and there young Robert grew up under the care of his mother. He learned to read and write quickly, but did not manifest much fondness for his books after mastering his elementary studies. He early exhibited an unusual talent for drawing, however, greatly preferring the employment of his pencil to the more serious duties of the school. His instructors and companions considered him a dull boy, though all admitted that he showed no disposition to be idle. All his leisure time was spent either in drawing, or in visiting the shops of the mechanics in the place and eagerly watching their operations. He displayed a remarkable talent for mechanism, which was greatly assisted by his skill in drawing, and his visits to the machine shops were always welcomed by both the apprentices and their employers, who recognized the unusual genius of the boy, and predicted great things for him in the future. But to his teacher, who seems to have been rather more belligerent than is usual with Quakers, Robert's neglect of his studies and visits to the machine shops were so many indications of growing worthlessness. The indignant pedagogue once took occasion to remonstrate with him upon his course, and, failing to convince him by argument, rapped him sharply over the knuckles with a ruler, telling him he would make him do something. Robert at once placed his arms akimbo, and, looking his tutor sternly in the face, replied: "Sir, I came here to have something beat into my brains, not into my knuckles."
Some time after this Mrs. Fulton, in conversation with the teacher, expressed her solicitude lest her son should "turn out nothing," since he neglected his books so entirely. The teacher frankly confessed that he had done all in his power for the boy, but that he was discouraged, and added: "Only yesterday, madam, Robert pertinaciously declared to me that his head was so full of original notions that there was no vacant chamber to store away the contents of any dusty books." The lad was only ten years of age at the time, and, as may be supposed, the good Quaker who directed his education was not a little dismayed by such a remark.
The boyhood of Fulton was passed during the stormy period of the Revolution, and in a section so close to the theater of war that he was in the midst of all the excitement engendered by the conflict. He was an ardent patriot from the first, and used his pencil freely to caricature all who showed the slightest leaning to the cause of the enemy.
In 1778 the supply of candles was so low in Lancaster that the town authorities advised the people to refrain from illuminating their houses on the 4th of July of that year, in order to save their candles. Robert, at this time but thirteen years old, was determined not to forego a patriotic display of some sort. He had prepared a quantity of candles for the occasion, and after the proclamation of the Town Council was issued, he took them to a Mr. John Fisher, who kept a store in the place, and sold powder and shot. Mr. Fisher was somewhat astonished at Robert's desire to part with the candles, which were at that time scarce articles, and asked his reason for so doing. The boy replied: "Our rulers have requested the citizens to refrain from illuminating their windows and streets; as good citizens we should comply with their request, and I prefer illuminating the heavens with sky-rockets." Having procured the powder, he left Mr. Fisher's, and entered a small variety store kept by a Mr. Cossart, where he purchased several sheets of large-sized pasteboard. As Mr. Cossart was about to roll them, the boy stopped him, saying he wished to carry them open. Mr. Cossart, knowing Robert's mechanical genius, asked him what he was about to invent.
"Why," said the boy, "we are prohibited from illuminating our windows with candles, and I'm going to shoot my candles through the air."
"Tut, tut, tut," said Mr. Cossart, laughingly; "that's an impossibility."
"No, sir," said Robert, "there is nothing impossible."[[G]]
"Robert was known," says one of his biographers, "to purchase small quantities of quicksilver from Dr. Adam Simon Kuhn, druggist, residing opposite the market-house. He was trying some experiments that he did not wish to make public, and which the workmen in Mr. Fenno's and Mr. Christian Isch's shops were anxious to find out, but could not. He was in the habit almost daily of visiting those shops, and was a favorite among the workmen, who took advantage of his talent for drawing by getting him to make ornamental designs for guns, and sketches of the size and shape of guns, and then giving the calculations of the force, size of the bore and balls, and the distances they would fire; and he would accompany them to the open commons near by potter's field, to prove his calculations by shooting at a mark. On account of his expertness in his calculations, and of their ineffectual efforts to discover the use he was making of quicksilver, the shop-hands nicknamed him 'quicksilver Bob.'
"Mr. Messersmith and Mr. Christian Isch were employed by the Government to make and repair the arms for the troops; and on several occasions guards were stationed at their shops to watch and see that the workmen were constantly employed during whole nights and on Sunday, to prevent any delay. The workmen had so much reliance and confidence in 'quicksilver Bob's' judgment and mechanical skill, that every suggestion he would make as to the alteration of a gun, or any additional ornament that he would design, was invariably adopted by common consent.
"In the summer of 1779, Robert Fulton evinced an extraordinary fondness for inventions. He was a frequent visitor at Mr. Messersmith's and Mr. Fenno's gunsmith shops, almost daily, and endeavored to manufacture a small air-gun."
Among the acquaintances of Robert Fulton at this time was a young man, about eighteen years of age, named Christopher Gumpf, who used frequently to accompany his father in his fishing excursions on the Conestoga. Mr. Gumpf, Sen., being an experienced angler, readily consented to allow Robert to join himself and his son in these expeditions, and made the two boys earn their pleasure by pushing the boat about the stream, as he desired to move from point to point. As the means of propulsion was simply a pole, the labor was very severe, and Robert soon became tired of it. Not wishing, however, to give up his pleasant fishing trips, he determined to devise some means of lightening the labor.
"He absented himself a week, having gone to Little Britain township to spend a few days at his aunt's; and while there he planned and completed a small working model of a fishing boat, with paddle-wheels. On leaving his aunt's, he placed the model in the garret, with a request that it should not be destroyed. Many years afterward, that simple model was the attraction of friends, and became, instead of lumber in the garret, an ornament in the aunt's parlor, who prized it highly. That model was the result of Robert's fishing excursions with Christopher Gumpf; and when he returned from his aunt's he told Christopher that he must make a set of paddles to work at the sides of the boat, to be operated by a double crank, and then they could propel the old gentleman's fishing-boat with greater ease. Two arms or pieces of timber were then fastened together at right angles, with a paddle at each end, and the crank was attached to the boat across it near the stern, with a paddle operating on a pivot as a rudder; and Fulton's first invention was tried on the Conestoga River, opposite Rockford, in the presence of Peter and Christopher Gumpf. The boys were so pleased with the experiment, that they hid the paddles in the bushes on the shore, lest others might use and break them, and attached them to the boat whenever they chose; and thus did they enjoy very many fishing excursions."
This was the first experiment in the science of navigation attempted by the man who afterward became the author of a new system.
Having chosen the profession of an artist and portrait painter, young Fulton removed to Philadelphia at the age of seventeen, and remained there, pursuing his vocation, until the completion of his twenty-first year. He formed there the acquaintance of Benjamin Franklin, by whom he was much noticed. His success was rapid, and upon attaining his majority he was enabled to purchase and stock a farm of eighty-four acres in Washington County, Pennsylvania, which he gave to his mother for a home as long as she should live. Having thus insured her comfort, he went to England for the purpose of completing his studies in his profession. He took with him letters to Benjamin West, then at the height of his fame, and living in London. He was cordially received by Mr. West, who was also a native of Pennsylvania, and remained an inmate of his family for several years. West was then the President of the Royal Academy of Great Britain, and was thus enabled to extend to Fulton, to whom he became deeply attached, many advantages, both social and professional, of which the young artist was prompt to avail himself.
Upon leaving the family of Mr. West, Fulton commenced a tour for the purpose of examining the treasures of art contained in the residences of the English nobility, and remained for two years in Devonshire. There he became acquainted with the Duke of Bridgewater, to whom England is indebted for the introduction of the canal system within her limits; and it is said that he was induced by this nobleman to abandon the profession of an artist, and enter upon that of a civil engineer. This nobleman being devoted to mechanical investigations, proved a very congenial acquaintance to Fulton. He was engaged at the time on a scheme of steam navigation by a propeller, modeled after the foot of a water fowl. His plan did not commend itself to Fulton's judgment, and he addressed him a letter, setting forth its defects, and advancing some of the views upon which he acted himself in after life. Here he also met with Watt, who had just produced the steam-engine, which Fulton studied enthusiastically. His own inventive genius was not idle, and while living in Devonshire, he produced an improved mill for sawing marble, which won him the thanks and medal of the British Society for the Promotion of the Arts and Commerce; a machine for spinning flax and making ropes; and an excavator for scooping out the channels of canals and aqueducts, all of which were patented. He published a number of communications on the subject of canals in one of the leading London journals, and a treatise upon the same subject. Having obtained a patent in England for canal improvements, he went to France in 1797, with the design of introducing them in that country.
Upon reaching Paris, he took up his residence with Mr. Joel Barlow, and thus was laid the foundation of a friendship between these two gentlemen which lasted during their lives. He remained in Paris seven years, residing during that time with Mr. Barlow, and devoting himself to the study of modern languages, and engineering and its kindred sciences.
His work was continuous and severe in Paris. He invented and painted the first panorama ever exhibited in that city, which he sold for the purpose of raising money for his experiments in steam navigation; he also designed a series of splendid colored illustrations for The Columbiad, the famous poem of his friend Mr. Barlow. Besides these, he invented a number of improvements in canals, aqueducts, inclined planes, boats, and guns, which yielded him considerable credit, but very little profit.
In 1801, he invented a submarine boat which he called the "Nautilus," which is thus described by M. de St. Aubin, a member of the Tribunate:
"The diving-boat, in the construction of which he is now employed, will be capacious enough to contain eight men and provision for twenty days, and will be of sufficient strength and power to enable him to plunge one hundred feet under water, if necessary. He has contrived a reservoir of air, which will enable eight men to remain under water eight hours. When the boat is above water, it has two sails, and looks just like a common boat; when it is to dive, the mast and sails are struck.
"In making his experiments, Mr. Fulton not only remained a whole hour under water, with three of his companions, but had the boat parallel to the horizon at any given distance. He proved that the compass points as correctly under water as on the surface, and that while under water the boat made way at the rate of half a league an hour, by means contrived for that purpose.
"It is not twenty years since all Europe was astonished at the first ascension of men in balloons: perhaps in a few years they will not be less surprised to see a flotilla of diving-boats, which, on a given signal, shall, to avoid the pursuit of an enemy, plunge under water, and rise again several leagues from the place where they descended!
"But if we have not succeeded in steering the balloon, and even were it impossible to attain that object, the case is different with the diving-boat, which can be conducted under water in the same manner as upon the surface. It has the advantage of sailing like the common boat, and also of diving when it is pursued. With these qualities, it is fit for carrying secret orders, to succor a blockaded fort, and to examine the force and position of an enemy in their harbors."
In connection with this boat, Fulton invented a torpedo, or infernal machine, for the purpose of destroying vessels of war by approaching them under water and breaking up their hulls by the explosion. He offered his invention several times to the French Government, and once to the Ambassador of Holland at Paris, without being able to induce them to consider it. Somewhat later, he visited London, at the request of the British Ministry, and explained his invention to them. Although he succeeded in blowing up a vessel of two hundred tons with one hundred and seventy pounds of powder, and in extorting from Mr. Pitt the acknowledgment that, if introduced into practice, the torpedo would annihilate all navies, his invention was rejected, through the influence of Lord Melville, who feared that its adoption might injure England more than it would benefit her. At the first, when it was thought that England would purchase Fulton's invention, it was intimated to him that he would be required to pledge himself not to dispose of it to any other power. He replied promptly:
"Whatever may be your award, I never will consent to let these inventions lie dormant should my country at any time have need of them. Were you to grant me an annuity of twenty thousand pounds, I would sacrifice all to the safety and independence of my country."
In 1806, Mr. Fulton returned to New York, and in the same year he married Miss Harriet Livingston, a niece of Chancellor Livingston, by whom he had four children. He offered his torpedo to the General Government, but the trial to which it was subjected by the Navy Department was unsuccessful for him, and the Government declined to purchase the invention.
But it was not as the inventor of engines of destruction that Robert Fulton was to achieve fame. A still nobler triumph was reserved for him—one which was to bring joy instead of sorrow to the world. From the time that Fulton had designed the paddle-wheels for his fishing-boat, he had never ceased to give his attention to the subject of propelling vessels by machinery, and after his acquaintance with Watt, he was more than ever convinced that the steam-engine could, under proper circumstances, be made to furnish the motive power.
Several eminent and ingenious men, previous to this, had proposed to propel vessels by steam power, among whom were Dr. Papin, of France, Savery, the Marquis of Worcester, and Dr. John Allen, of London, in 1726. In 1786, Oliver Evans, of Philadelphia, and about the same time Dr. Franklin, proposed to accomplish this result by forcing a quantity of water, by means of steam power, through an opening made for that purpose in the stern of the hull of the boat.
In 1737, Jonathan Hulls issued a pamphlet proposing to construct a boat to be moved by steam power, for the purpose of towing vessels out of harbors against tide and winds. In his plan the paddle-wheel was used, and was secured to a frame placed far out over the stern of the boat. It was given this position by the inventor because water fowls propelled themselves by pushing their feet behind them.
In 1787, Mr. James Rumsey, of Shepherdstown, Virginia, constructed and navigated the first steamboat in actual use. His boat was eighty feet in length, and was propelled by means of a vertical pump in the middle of the vessel, by which the water was drawn in at the bow and expelled at the stern through a horizontal trough in her hull. The engine weighed about one third of a ton, and the boat had a capacity of about three tons burthen. When thus laden, a speed of about four miles an hour could be attained. The boiler held only five gallons of water, and needed but a pint at a time. Rumsey went to England to exhibit his plan on the Thames, and died there in 1793.
About the same time the Marquis de Joffrey launched a steamer one hundred feet long on the Loire, at Lyons, using paddles revolving on an endless chain, but only to find his experiment a failure.
In December, 1786, John Fitch published the following account of a steamer with which he had made several experiments on the Delaware, at Philadelphia, and which came nearer to success than any thing that had at that time been invented:
"The cylinder is to be horizontal, and the steam to work with equal force at each end. The mode by which we obtain what I term a vacuum is, it is believed, entirely new, as is also the method of letting the water into it, and throwing it off against the atmosphere without any friction. It is expected that the cylinder, which is of twelve inches diameter, will move a clear force of eleven or twelve cwt. after the frictions are deducted: this force is to be directed against a wheel of eighteen inches diameter. The piston moves about three feet, and each vibration of it gives the axis about forty revolutions. Each revolution of the axis moves twelve oars or paddles five and a half feet: they work perpendicularly, and are represented by the strokes of a paddle of a canoe. As six of the paddles are raised from the water, six more are entered, and the two sets of paddles make their strokes of about eleven feet in each revolution. The crank of the axis acts upon the paddles about one-third of their length from their lower ends, on which part of the oar the whole force of the axis is applied. The engine is placed in the bottom of the boat, about one-third from the stern, and both the action and reaction turn the wheel the same way."
Fitch was unfortunate in his affairs, and became so disheartened that he ceased to attempt to improve his invention, and finally committed suicide by drowning himself in the Alleghany River at Pittsburgh.
In 1787, Mr. Patrick Miller, of Dalwinston, Scotland, designed a double vessel, propelled by a wheel placed in the stern between the two keels. This boat is said to have been very successful, but it was very small, the cylinder being only four inches in diameter. In 1789, Mr. Miller produced a larger vessel on the same plan, which made seven miles per hour in the still water of the Forth and Clyde Canal, but it proved too weak for its machinery, which had to be taken out.
It was in the face of these failures that Fulton applied himself to the task of designing a successful steamboat. During his residence in Paris he had made the acquaintance of Mr. Robert R. Livingston, then the American minister in France, who had previously been connected with some unsuccessful steamboat experiments at home. Mr. Livingston was delighted to find a man of Fulton's mechanical genius so well satisfied of the practicability of steam navigation, and joined heartily with him in his efforts to prove his theories by experiments. Several small working models made by Fulton convinced Mr. Livingston that the former had discovered and had overcome the cause of the failure of the experiments of other inventors, and it was finally agreed between them to build a large boat for trial on the Seine. This experimental steamer was furnished with paddle wheels, and was completed and launched early in the spring of 1803. On the very morning appointed for the trial, Fulton was aroused from his sleep by a messenger from the boat, who rushed into his chamber, pale and breathless, exclaiming, "Oh, sir, the boat has broken in pieces and gone to the bottom!" Hastily dressing and hurrying to the spot, he found that the weight of the machinery had broken the boat in half and carried the whole structure to the bottom of the river. He at once set to work to raise the machinery, devoting twenty-four hours, without resting or eating, to the undertaking, and succeeded in doing so, but inflicted upon his constitution a strain from which he never entirely recovered. The machinery was very slightly damaged, but it was necessary to rebuild the boat entirely. This was accomplished by July of the same year, and the boat was tried in August with triumphant success, in the presence of the French National Institute and a vast crowd of the citizens of Paris.
This steamer was very defective, but still so great an improvement upon all that had preceded it, that Messrs. Fulton and Livingston determined to build one on a larger scale in the waters of New York, the right of navigating which by steam vessels had been secured by the latter as far back as 1798. The law which granted this right had been continued from time to time through Mr. Livingston's influence, and was finally amended so as to include Fulton within its provisions. Having resolved to return home, Fulton set out as soon as possible, stopping in England on his return, to order an engine for his boat from Watt and Boulton. He gave an exact description of the engine, which was built in strict accordance with his plan, but declined to state the use to which he intended putting it.
Very soon after his arrival in New York, he commenced building his first American boat, and finding that her cost would greatly exceed his estimate, he offered for sale a third interest in the monopoly of the navigation of the waters of New York, held by Livingston and himself, in order to raise money to build the boat, and thus lighten the burdens of himself and his partner, but he could find no one willing to risk money in such a scheme. Indeed, steam navigation was universally regarded in America as a mere chimera, and Fulton and Livingston were ridiculed for their faith in it. The bill granting the monopoly held by Livingston was regarded as so utterly absurd by the Legislature of New York, that that wise body could with difficulty be induced to consider it seriously. Even among scientific men the project was considered impracticable. A society in Rotterdam had, several years before Fulton's return home, applied to the American Philosophical Society to be informed whether any and what improvements had been made in the construction of steam-engines in America. A reply to this inquiry was prepared, at the request of the Society, by Mr. Benjamin H. Latrobe, a distinguished engineer. The following extracts from this paper will show the reader how Fulton's scheme was regarded by one who was confessedly one of the most brilliant engineers of his day, and who has since accomplished so much for the improvement of steam travel:
During the general lassitude of mechanical exertion which succeeded the American Revolution, We utility of steam-engines appears to have been forgotten; but the subject afterward started into very general notice in a form in which it could not possibly be attended with success. A sort of mania began to prevail, which, indeed, has not yet entirely subsided, for impelling boats by steam-engines. Dr. Franklin proposed to force forward the boat by the immediate application of the steam upon the water. Many attempts to simplify the working of the engine, and more to employ a means of dispensing with the beam in converting the libratory into a rotatory motion, were made. For a short time, a passage-boat, rowed by a steam-engine, was established between Borden-town and Philadelphia, but it was soon laid aside. The best and most powerful steam-engine which has been employed for this purpose—excepting, perhaps, one constructed by Dr. Kinsey, with the performance of which I am not sufficiently acquainted—belonged to a gentleman of New York. It was made to act, by way of experiment, upon oars, upon paddles, and upon flutter-wheels. Nothing in the success of any of these experiments appeared to be sufficient compensation for the expense and the extreme inconvenience of the steam-engine in the vessel.
There are, indeed, general objections to the use of the steam-engine for impelling boats, from which no particular mode of application can be free. These are:
First. The weight of the engine and of the fuel.
Second. The large space it occupies.
Third. The tendency of its action to rack the vessel, and render it leaky.
Fourth. The expense of maintenance.
Fifth. The irregularity of its motion, and the motion of the water in the boiler and cistern, and of the fuel-vessel in rough water.
Sixth. The difficulty arising from the liability of the paddles and oars to break, if light, and from the weight, if made strong.
Nor have I ever heard of an instance, verified by other testimony than that of the inventor, of a speedy and agreeable voyage having been performed in a steamboat of any construction.
I am well aware that there are still many very respectable and ingenious men who consider the application of the steam-engine to the purpose of navigation as highly important, and as very practicable, especially on the rapid waters of the Mississippi, and who would feel themselves almost offended at the expression of an opposite opinion. And, perhaps, some of the objections against it may be avoided. That founded on the expense and weight of the fuel may not, for some years, exist on the Mississippi, where there is a redundance of wood on the banks; but the cutting and loading will be almost as great an evil.
Scientific men and amateurs all agreed in pronouncing Fulton's scheme impracticable; but he went on with his work, his boat attracting no less attention and exciting no less ridicule than the ark had received from the scoffers in the days of Noah. The steam-engine ordered from Boulton and Watt was received in the latter part of 1806; and in the following spring the boat was launched from the ship-yard of Charles Brown, on the East River. Fulton named her the "Clermont," after the country-seat of his friend and partner, Chancellor Livingston. She was one hundred and sixty tons burthen, one hundred and thirty feet long, eighteen feet wide, and seven feet deep. Her engine was made with a single cylinder, two feet in diameter, and of four feet stroke; and her boiler was twenty feet long, seven feet deep, and eight feet broad. The diameter of the paddle-wheels was fifteen feet, the boards four feet long, and dipping two feet in the water. The boat was completed about the last of August, and she was moved by her machinery from the East River into the Hudson, and over to the Jersey shore. This trial, brief as it was, satisfied Fulton of its success, and he announced that in a few days the steamer would sail from New York for Albany. A few friends, including several scientific men and mechanics, were invited to take passage in the boat, to witness her performance; and they accepted the invitation with a general conviction that they were to do but little more than witness another failure.
Monday, September 10, 1807, came at length, and a vast crowd assembled along the shore of the North River to witness the starting. As the hour for sailing drew near, the crowd increased, and jokes were passed on all sides at the expense of the inventor, who paid little attention to them, however, but busied himself in making a final and close inspection of the machinery. Says Fulton, "The morning I left New York, there were not, perhaps, thirty persons in the city who believed that the boat would ever move one mile per hour, or be of the least utility; and while we were putting off from the wharf, which was crowded with spectators, I heard a number of sarcastic remarks."
One o'clock, the hour for sailing, came, and expectation was at its highest. The friends of the inventor were in a state of feverish anxiety lest the enterprise should come to grief, and the scoffers on the wharf were all ready to give vent to their shouts of derision. Precisely as the hour struck, the moorings were thrown off, and the "Clermont" moved slowly out into the stream. Volumes of smoke and sparks from her furnaces, which were fed with pine wood, rushed forth from her chimney, and her wheels, which were uncovered, scattered the spray far behind her. The spectacle she presented as she moved out gradually from her dock was certainly novel to the people of those days, and the crowd on the wharf broke into shouts of ridicule. Soon, however, the jeers grew silent, for it was seen that the steamer was by degrees increasing her speed. In a little while she was fairly under weigh, and making a steady progress up the stream at the rate of five miles per hour. The incredulity of the spectators had been succeeded by astonishment, and now this feeling gave way to undisguised delight, and cheer after cheer went up from the vast throng. Many people followed the boat for some distance up the river shore. In a little while, however, the boat was observed to stop, and the enthusiasm of the people on the shore at once subsided. The scoffers were again in their glory, and unhesitatingly pronounced the boat a failure. Their chagrin may be imagined when, after a short delay, the steamer once more proceeded on her way, and this time even more rapidly than before. Fulton had discovered that the paddles were too long, and took too deep a hold on the water, and had stopped the boat for the purpose of shortening them.
Having remedied this defect, the "Clermont" continued her voyage during the rest of the day and all night, without stopping, and at one o'clock the next day ran alongside the landing at Clermont, the seat of Chancellor Livingston. She lay there until nine the next morning, when she continued her voyage toward Albany, reaching that city at five in the afternoon, having made the entire distance between New York and Albany (one hundred and fifty miles) in thirty-two hours of actual running time, an average speed of nearly five miles per hour. On her return trip, she reached New York in thirty hours running time—exactly five miles per hour. Fulton states that during both trips he encountered a head wind.
The river was at this time navigated entirely with sailing vessels, and large numbers of these were encountered by the "Clermont" during her up and down trips. The surprise and dismay excited among the crews of these vessels by the appearance of the steamer was extreme. These simple people, the majority of whom had heard nothing of Fulton's experiments, beheld what they supposed to be a huge monster, vomiting fire and smoke from its throat, lashing the water with its fins, and shaking the river with its roar, approaching rapidly in the very face of both wind and tide. Some threw themselves flat on the deck of their vessels, where they remained in an agony of terror until the monster had passed, while others took to their boats and made for the shore in dismay, leaving their vessels to drift helplessly down the stream. Nor was this terror confined to the sailors. The people dwelling along the shore crowded the banks to gaze upon the steamer as she passed by. A former resident of the neighborhood of Poughkeepsie thus describes the scene at that place, which will serve as a specimen of the conduct of the people along the entire river below Albany:
"It was in the early autumn of the year 1807 that a knot of villagers was gathered on a high bluff just opposite Poughkeepsie, on the west bank of the Hudson, attracted by the appearance of a strange, dark-looking craft, which was slowly making its way up the river. Some imagined it to be a sea-monster, while others did not hesitate to express their belief that it was a sign of the approaching judgment What seemed strange in the vessel was the substitution of lofty and straight black smoke-pipes, rising from the deck, instead of the gracefully tapered masts that commonly stood on the vessels navigating the stream, and, in place of the spars and rigging, the curious play of the working-beam and pistons, and the slow turning and splashing of the huge and naked paddle-wheels, met the astonished gaze. The dense clouds of smoke, as they rose wave upon wave, added still more to the wonderment of the rustics.
"This strange-looking craft was the 'Clermont,' on her trial trip to Albany; and of the little knot of villagers mentioned above, the writer, then a boy in his eighth year, with his parents, formed a part. I well remember the scene, one so well fitted to impress a lasting picture upon the mind of a child accustomed to watch the vessels that passed up and down the river.
"The forms of four persons were distinctly visible on the deck as she passed the bluff—one of whom, doubtless, was Robert Fulton, who had on board with him all the cherished hopes of years, the most precious cargo the wonderful boat could carry.
"On her return trip, the curiosity she excited was scarcely less intense. The whole country talked of nothing but the sea-monster, belching forth fire and smoke. The fishermen became terrified, and rowed homewards, and they saw nothing but destruction devastating their fishing-grounds; while the wreaths of black vapor, and rushing noise of the paddle-wheels, foaming with the stirred-up waters, produced great excitement among the boatmen, which continued without abatement, until the character of that curious boat, and the nature of the enterprise which she was pioneering, had been understood."
The alarm of the sailors and dwellers on the river shore disappeared as the character of the steamer became better known; but when it was found that the "Clermont" was to run regularly between New York and Albany, as a packet-boat, she became the object of the most intense hatred on the part of the boatmen on the river, who feared that she would entirely destroy their business. In many quarters Fulton and his invention were denounced as baneful to society, and frequent attempts were made by captains of sailing vessels to sink the "Clermont" by running into her. She was several times damaged in this way, and the hostility of the boatmen became so great that it was necessary for the Legislature of New York to pass a law declaring combinations to destroy her, or willful attempts to injure her, public offenses punishable by fine and imprisonment.
It had been supposed that Fulton's object was to produce a steamer capable of navigating the Mississippi River, and much surprise was occasioned by the announcement that the "Clermont" was to be permanently employed upon the Hudson. She continued to ply regularly between New York and Albany until the close of navigation for that season, always carrying a full complement of passengers, and more or less freight. During the winter she was overhauled and enlarged, and her speed improved. In the spring of 1808 she resumed her regular trips, and since then steam navigation on the Hudson has not ceased for a single day, except during the closing of the river by ice.
In 1811 and 1812, Fulton built two steam ferry-boats for the North River, and soon after added a third for the East River. These boats were the beginning of the magnificent steam ferry system which is to-day one of the chief wonders of New York. They were what are called twin-boats, each of them consisting of two complete hulls, united by a deck or bridge. They were sharp at both ends, and moved equally well with either end foremost, so that they could cross and re-cross without being turned around. These boats were given engines of sufficient power to enable them to overcome the force of strong ebb tides; and in order to facilitate their landing, Fulton contrived a species of floating dock, and a means of decreasing the shock caused by the striking of the boat against the dock. These boats could accommodate eight four-wheel carriages, twenty-nine horses, and four hundred passengers. Their average time across the North River, a mile and a half wide, was twenty minutes.
The introduction of the steamboat gave a powerful impetus to the internal commerce of the Union. It opened to navigation many important rivers (whose swift currents had closed them to sailing craft), and made rapid and easy communication between the most distant parts of the country practicable. The public soon began to appreciate this, and orders came in rapidly for steamboats for various parts of the country. Fulton executed these as fast as possible, and among the number several for boats for the Ohio and Mississippi Rivers.
Early in 1814, the city of New York was seriously menaced with an attack from the British fleet, and Fulton was called on by a committee of citizens to furnish a plan for a means of defending the harbor. He exhibited to the committee his plans for a vessel of war to be propelled by steam, capable of carrying a strong battery, with furnaces for red-hot shot, and which, he represented, would move at the rate of four miles an hour. These plans were also submitted to a number of naval officials, among whom were Commodore Decatur, Captain Jones, Captain Evans, Captain Biddle, Commodore Perry, Captain Warrington, and Captain Lewis, all of whom warmly united in urging the Government to undertake the construction of the proposed steamer. The citizens of New York offered, if the Government would employ and pay for her after she was built, to advance the sum ($320,000) necessary for her construction. The subject was vigorously pressed, and in March, 1814, Congress authorized the building of one or more floating batteries after the plan presented by Fulton. Her keel was laid on the 20th of June, 1814, and on the 31st of October, of the same year, she was launched, amid great rejoicings, from the ship-yard of Adam and Noah Brown. In May, 1815, her engines were put on board, and on the 4th of July of that year she made a trial trip to Sandy Hook and back, accomplishing the round trip—a distance of fifty-three miles—in eight hours and twenty minutes, under steam alone. Before this, however, peace had been proclaimed, and Fulton had gone to rest from his labors.
The ship was a complete success, and was the first steam vessel of war ever built. She was called the "Fulton the First," and was for many years used as the receiving ship at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. She was an awkward and unwieldy mass, but was regarded as the most formidable vessel afloat; and as the pioneer of the splendid war steamers of to-day is still an object of great interest. The English regarded her with especial uneasiness, and put in circulation the most marvelous stories concerning her. One of these I take from a treatise on steam navigation published in Scotland at this period, the author of which assures his readers that he has taken the utmost pains to obtain full and accurate information respecting the American war steamer. His description is as follows:
"Length on deck three hundred feet, breadth two hundred feet, thickness of her sides, thirteen feet, of alternate oak plank and corkwood; carries forty-four guns, four of which are 100-pounders, quarter-deck and forcastle guns, 44-pounders; and further, to annoy an enemy attempting to board, can discharge one hundred gallons of boiling water in a minute, and by mechanism brandishes three hundred cutlasses, with the utmost regularity, over her gunwales; works also an equal number of heavy iron pikes of great length, darting them from her sides with prodigious force, and withdrawing them every quarter of a minute!"
Fulton followed up the "Clermont," in 1807, with a larger boat, called the "Car of Neptune," which was placed on the Albany route as soon as completed. The Legislature of New York had enacted a law, immediately upon his first success, giving to Livingston and himself the exclusive right to navigate the waters of the State by steam, for five years for every additional boat they should build in the State, provided the whole term should not exceed thirty years. "In the following year the Legislature passed another act, confirmatory of the prior grants, and giving new remedies to the grantees for any invasion of them, and subjecting to forfeiture any vessel propelled by steam which should enter the waters of the State without their license. In 1809 Fulton obtained his first patent from the United States; and in 1811 he took out a second patent for some improvement in his boats and machinery. His patents were limited to the simple means of adapting paddle wheels to the axle of the crank of Watt's engine.
"Meanwhile the power of the Legislature to grant the steamboat monopoly was denied, and a company was formed at Albany to establish another line of steam passage boats on the Hudson, between that city and New York. The State grantees filed a bill in equity, and prayed for an injunction, which was refused by Chancellor Lansing, on the ground that the act of the State Legislature was repugnant to the Constitution of the United States, and against common right. This decree was unanimously reversed by the Court of Errors, and a compromise was effected with the Albany company by an assignment to them of the right to employ steam on the waters of Lake Champlain.
"Legislative aid was again invoked, and an act was passed directing peremptorily the allowance of an injunction on the prayer of the State grantees, and the seizure of any hostile boat at the commencement of the suit. Litigation was thus effectually arrested in New York, though by an arbitrary and unconstitutional enactment, and the waters of the State remained in the exclusive possession of Fulton and his partner during the lifetime of the former. A similar controversy with Colonel Aaron Ogden, of New Jersey, was compromised by advantageous concessions, which converted the opponent of the monopoly into its firmest friend, and left him many years afterward the defeated party in the famous suit of Gibbons and Ogden, in the Supreme Court of the United States."
In January, 1815, Fulton was summoned to Trenton, New Jersey, as a witness in one of the numerous suits which grew out of the efforts to break down his monopoly. During his examination he was very much exposed, as the hall of the Legislature was uncommonly cold. In returning home, he crossed the Hudson in an open boat, and was detained on the river several hours. This severe exposure brought on an attack of sickness, which for a short time confined him to his bed. The steam frigate, then almost ready for her engines, occasioned him great anxiety at the time, and before he had fairly recovered his strength he went to the ship-yard to give some directions to the workmen employed on her, and thus exposed himself again to the inclemency of the weather. In a few days his indisposition prostrated him again, and, growing rapidly worse, he died on the 24th of February, 1815, at the age of fifty years. His death was universally regarded as a national calamity, and appropriate honors were paid to his memory by the General Government and by many of the State and municipal governments of the Union. He was buried from his residence, No. 1 State Street, on the 25th of February, and his body was placed in the vault of the Livingston family, in Trinity church-yard.
He left a widow and four children. By the terms of his will he bequeathed to his wife an income of nine thousand dollars a year, and five hundred dollars to each of his children until they were twelve years old, after which they were each to receive one thousand dollars a year until they should attain the age of twenty-one years.
In person, Fulton was tall and handsome. His manner was polished, cordial, and winning. He made friends rapidly, and never failed in his efforts to enlist capital and influence in support of his schemes. He was manly, fearless, and independent in character, and joined to a perfect integrity a patience and indomitable resolution which enabled him to bear up under every disappointment, and which won him in the end a glorious success. His name and fame will always be dear to his countrymen, for while we can not claim that he was (nor did he ever assume to be) the inventor of steam navigation, or even the inventor of the means of such navigation, we do claim for him the honor of being the first man to cross the gulf which lies between experiment and achievement, the man whose skill and perseverance first conquered the difficulties which had baffled so many others, and made steam navigation both practicable and profitable. The Committee of the London Exhibition of 1851 gave utterance in their report to a declaration which places his fame beyond assault, as follows:
"Many persons, in various countries, claim the honor of having first invented small boats propelled by steam, but it is to the undaunted perseverance and exertions of the American Fulton that is due the everlasting honor of having produced this revolution, both in naval architecture and navigation."
Footnote G: [(return)]
He proved that this was not impossible, for he had his display, making his rockets himself, and after his own model.
CHAPTER XIV.
CHARLES GOODYEAR.
In the year 1735, a party of astronomers, sent by the French Government to Peru for purposes of scientific investigation, discovered a curious tree growing in that country, the like of which no European had ever seen before. It grew to a considerable size, and yielded a peculiar sap or gum. It was the custom of the natives to make several incisions in each tree with an ax, in the morning, and to place under each incision a cup or jar made of soft clay. Late in the afternoon, the fluid thus obtained was collected in a large clay vessel, each incision yielding about a gill of sap per day. This process was repeated for several days in succession, until the tree had been thoroughly drained. This sap was simply a species of liquid gum, which, though clear and colorless in its native state, had the property of becoming hard and tough when exposed to the sun or artificial heat. It was used by the natives for the manufacture of a few rude and simple articles, by a process similar to that by which the old-fashioned "tallow-dip" candles were made. It was poured over a pattern of clay or a wooden mold or last covered with clay, and successive coatings were applied as fast as the former ones dried, until the article had attained the desired thickness, the whole taking the shape of the mold over which the gum was poured. As the layers were applied, their drying was hastened by exposure to the heat and smoke of a fire, the latter giving to the gum a dark-black hue. Dried without exposure to the smoke, or by the sun alone, the gum became white within and yellowish-brown without. The drying process required several days, and during its progress the gum was ornamented with characters or lines made with a stick. When it was completed, the clay mold was broken to pieces and shaken out of the opening. The natives in this manner made a species of rough, clumsy shoe, and an equally rough bottle. In some parts of South America, the natives make it a rule to present their guests with one of these bottles, furnished with a hollow stern, which serves as a syringe for squirting water into the mouth in order to cleanse it after eating. The articles thus made were liable to become stiff and unmanageable in cold weather, and soft and sticky in warm. The French astronomers, upon their return to their own country, were quick to call attention to this remarkable gum, which was afterward discovered in Cayenne by Trismau, in 1751. At present it is found in large quantities in various parts of South America, but the chief supplies used in commerce are produced in the province of Para, which lies south of the equator, in Brazil. It is also grown largely in the East Indies, vast and inexhaustible forests of the trees which yield it being found in Assam, beyond the Ganges, although the quality can not compare with that of the South American article.
This substance, variously known as cachuchu, caoutchouc, gum elastic, and India-rubber, was first introduced into Europe in 1730, where it was regarded merely as a curiosity, useful for erasing pencil marks, but valueless for any practical use. Ships from South America brought it over as ballast, but it was not until ninety years after its first appearance in Europe that any effort was made to utilize it. About the year 1820 it began to be used in France in the manufacture of suspenders and garters, India-rubber threads being mixed with the materials used in weaving those articles. It was also used in blacking and varnish, and some years later, Mackintosh brought it into prominent notice by using it in his famous water-proof coats, which were made by spreading a layer of the gum between two pieces of cloth. The gum was thus protected from the air, and preserved from injury.
Up to this time, it was almost an unknown article in the United States, but in 1820 a pair of India-rubber shoes were exhibited in Boston. Even then they were regarded as merely a curiosity, and were covered with gilt foil to hide their natural ugliness. In 1823, a merchant, engaged in the South American trade, imported five hundred pairs from the Para district. He had no difficulty in disposing of them; and so great was the favor with which they were received, that in a few years the annual importation of India-rubber shoes amounted to five hundred thousand pairs. It had become a matter of fashion to wear these shoes, and no person's toilet was complete in wet weather unless the feet were incased in them; yet they were terribly rough and clumsy. They had scarcely any shape to them, and were not to be depended on in winter or summer. In the cold season they froze so hard that they could be used only after being thawed by the fire, and in summer they could be preserved only by keeping them on ice; and if, during the thawing process, they were placed too near the fire, there was danger that they would melt into a shapeless and useless mass. They cost from three to five dollars per pair, which was very high for an article so perishable in its nature.
The great popularity of India-rubber induced Mr. E.M. Chaflee, of Boston, the foreman of a patent leather factory in that city, to attempt to apply the new substance to some of the uses to which patent leather was then put. His hope was that, by spreading the liquid gum upon cloth, he could produce an article which, while possessing the durability and flexibility of patent leather, would also be water-proof. His experiments extended over a period of several months, during which time he kept his plan a secret. He dissolved a pound of the gum in three quarts of spirits of turpentine, and added to the mixture enough lamp-black to produce a bright black color, and was so well satisfied with his compound, that he felt sure that the only thing necessary to his entire success was a machine for spreading it properly on the cloth. Like a true son of New England, he soon overcame this difficulty by inventing the desired machine. His compound was spread on the cloth, and dried in the sun, producing a hard, smooth surface, and one sufficiently flexible to be twisted into any shape without cracking. Mr. Chaffee was now sure that he had mastered the difficulty. Taking a few capitalists into his confidence, he succeeded so well in convincing them of the excellence of his invention, that in February, 1833, a company, called the "Roxbury India-rubber Company," was organized, with a capital of thirty thousand dollars. In three years this sum was increased to four hundred thousand dollars. The new company manufactured India-rubber cloth according to Mr. Chaffee's process, and from it made wagon-covers, piano-covers, caps, coats, and a few other articles, and, in a little while, added to their list of products shoes without fiber. They had no difficulty in disposing of their stock. Every body had taken the "India-rubber fever," as the excitement caused by Mr. Chaffee's discovery was called; and so high were the hopes of the public raised by it, that buyers were found in abundance whenever the bonds of the numerous India-rubber companies were offered for sale. The extraordinary success of the Roxbury Company led to the establishment of similar enterprises at Boston, Framingham, Salem, Lynn, Chelsea, Troy, and Staten Island. The Roxbury Company could not supply the demand for its articles, and the others appeared to have as much business as they could attend to. Apparently, they were all on the high road to wealth.
Their prosperity was only fictitious, however, and a day of fearful disaster was pending over them. The bulk of the goods produced in 1833 and 1834 had been manufactured in the cold weather, and the greater part of them had succumbed to the heat of the ensuing summer. The shoes had melted to a soft mass, and the caps, wagon-covers, and coats had become sticky and useless in summer, and rigid in the cold of winter. In some cases the articles had borne the test of one year's use, but the second summer had ruined them. To make the matter worse, they emitted an odor so offensive that it was necessary to bury them in the ground to get rid of the smell. Twenty thousand dollars' worth were thrown back on the hands of the Roxbury Company alone, and the directors were appalled by the ruin which threatened them. It was useless for them to go on manufacturing goods which might prove worthless at any moment; and, as their capital was already taxed to its utmost, it was plain that unless a better process should be speedily discovered, they must become involved in irretrievable disaster. Their efforts were unavailing, however. No better process was found, and the disgust of the public with their goods was soon general and unmitigable. India-rubber stock fell rapidly, and by the end of the year 1836 there was not a solvent company in the Union. The loss of the stockholders was complete, and amounted in the aggregate to two millions of dollars. People came to detest the very name of India-rubber, since it reminded them only of blighted hopes and heavy losses.
Before the final disaster, however, it chanced that a bankrupt merchant of Philadelphia, being one day in New York on business, was led by curiosity to visit the salesroom of the agency of the Roxbury Company in that city. His visit resulted in the purchase of a life-preserver, which he took home with him for the purpose of examining it. Subjecting it to a careful investigation, he discovered a defect in the valve used for inflating it, and promptly devised a simpler and better apparatus.
This man, afterward so famous in the history of India-rubber manufacture, was CHARLES GOODYEAR. He was born at New Haven, Connecticut, on the 29th of December, 1800. He attended a public school during his boyhood, thus acquiring a limited education. When quite a youth, he removed with his family to Philadelphia, where his father entered into the hardware business. Upon coming of age, he was admitted to partnership with his father and one of his brothers, the style of the firm being A. Goodyear & Sons. The house was extensively engaged in the manufacture of hardware, and among the other articles which they introduced was a light hay-fork, made of spring steel, which gradually took the place of the heavy wrought iron implement formerly in general use among the farmers. It required a large outlay and a great deal of time to introduce this fork, but, once in use, it rapidly drove the old one out of the market, and proved a source of considerable profit to its inventor. The prosperity of the house, however, soon began to wane, and it was brought to bankruptcy by the crisis of 1836.
Mr. Goodyear's attention had for some time been attracted to the wonderful apparent success of the India-rubber companies of the country, and he was hopeful that his improvement in the inflating apparatus of the life-preserver would bring him the means of partially extricating himself from his difficulties. Repairing to New York, he called on the agent of the Roxbury Company, and explaining his invention to him, offered to sell it to the company. The agent was struck with the skill displayed in the improvement of Mr. Goodyear, but, instead of offering to buy it, astounded the inventor by informing him of the real state of the India-rubber trade of the country. He urged Mr. Goodyear to exert his inventive skill to discover some means of imparting durability to India-rubber goods, and assured him that if he could discover a process which would secure that end, the various companies of the United States would eagerly buy it at his own price. He explained to him the process then in use, and pointed out its imperfections. Mr. Goodyear listened carefully to his statements, forgot all about his disappointment in failing to sell his improved inflating apparatus, and went home firmly convinced that he had found his true mission in life. In after years, when success had crowned his labors, he modestly referred to this period of his career in language the substance of which is thus recorded:
"From the time that his attention was first given to the subject, a strong and abiding impression was made upon his mind that an object so desirable and important, and so necessary to man's comfort, as the making of gum elastic available to his use was most certainly placed within his reach. Having this presentiment, of which he could not divest himself under the most trying adversity, he was stimulated with the hope, of ultimately attaining this object. Beyond this, he would refer the whole to the great Creator, who directs the operations of the mind to the development of properties of matter, in his own way, at the time when they are specially needed, influencing some mind for every work or calling."
There was something sublime in the attitude of this one man, now feeble in health, the only dependence of a young family, a bankrupt in business, starting out to seek success in a field in which so many had found only ruin. He was convinced in his own mind that he would master the secret, while his friends were equally sure that he would but increase his difficulties. The firm of which he had been a member had surrendered all their property to their creditors; but they still owed thirty thousand dollars, and immediately upon his return from New York, after his visit to the agent of the Roxbury Company, he was arrested for debt, and though not actually thrown in jail, was compelled to take up his residence within prison limits.
Strong in the conviction before named, that he was the man of all others to discover the secret of controlling India-rubber, he at once began his experiments. This was in the winter of 1834-35. The gum had fallen in price to five cents per pound, and, poor as he was, he had no difficulty in procuring a sufficient quantity to begin with. By melting and working the gum thoroughly, and by rolling it upon a stone table with a rolling-pin, he succeeded in producing sheets of India-rubber which seemed to him to possess the properties which those of Mr. Chaffee had lacked. He explained his process to a friend, who, becoming interested in it, loaned him the money to manufacture a number of shoes, which at first seemed all that could be desired. Fearful, however, of meeting the fate which had befallen the Roxbury Company, Mr. Goodyear put his shoes away until the next summer, to ascertain whether they would bear the heat. His doubts were more than realized. The warm weather completely ruined them, reducing them to a mass of so offensive an odor that he was glad to throw them away.
The friend of the inventor was thoroughly disheartened by this failure, and refused to have any thing more to do with Goodyear's schemes; but the latter, though much disappointed, did not despair. He set to work to discover the cause of his failure, and traced it, as he supposed, to the mixing of the gum with the turpentine and lamp-black. Having procured some barrels of the gum in its native liquid state, he spread it on cloth without smoking it or mixing it with any thing else. He succeeded in producing a very handsome white rubber cloth, but it was one that became soft and sticky as quickly as the other had done.
It now occurred to him that there must be some mineral substance which, mixed with the gum, would render it durable, and he began to experiment with almost every substance that he could lay his hands on. All these proved total failures, with the exception of magnesia. By mixing half a pound of magnesia with a pound of the gum, he produced a compound much whiter than the pure gum, and one which was at first as firm and flexible as leather. He made book-covers and piano-covers out of it, and for a time it seemed that he had discovered the longed-for secret; but in a month his pretty product was ruined. The heat caused it to soften; then fermentation set in, and, finally, it became as hard and brittle as thin glass.
His friends, who had aided him at first, now turned from him coldly, regarding him as a dreamer; and his own stock of money was exhausted. In his extremity he was forced to pawn all his own valuables, and even some of the trinkets of his wife. In spite of this, he felt sure that he was on the road to success, and that he would very soon be enabled to rise above his present difficulties, and win both fame and fortune. He was obliged for the time, however, to remove his family to the country, depositing with his landlord, as security for the payment of the first quarter's rent, some linen which had been spun by his wife, and which he was never able to redeem. Having settled his family in the country, he set out for New York, where he hoped to find some one willing to aid him in extending his researches still further.
Arrived in the great city, he found two old acquaintances, to whom he stated his plans and his hopes. One of them offered him the use of a room in Gold Street, as a laboratory, and the other, who was a druggist, agreed to let him have such chemicals as he needed on credit. He now proceeded to boil the gum, mixed with magnesia, in quicklime and water, and, as the result, obtained sheets of his compound whose firmness and smoothness of surface won them a medal at the fair of the American Institute in 1835. He seemed now on the point of success, and readily disposed of all the sheets he could manufacture. The newspapers spoke highly of his invention, for which he obtained a patent; and he was about to endeavor to enlist some persons of means in its manufacture on a large scale, when, to his dismay, he discovered that a single drop of the weakest acid, such as the juice of an apple, or diluted vinegar, would utterly destroy the influence of the lime in the compound, and reduce it to the old sticky substance that had baffled him so often.
His next step was to mix quicklime with the gum. In order to work the compound thoroughly, he used to carry the vessel containing it, on his shoulder, to a place three miles distant from his laboratory, where he had the use of horse power. The lime, however, utterly destroyed the gum, and nothing came of this experiment.
The discovery which followed was the result of accident, and brought him on the very threshold of success, yet did not entirely conquer his difficulties. He was an ardent lover of the beautiful, and it was a constant effort with him to render his productions as attractive to the eye as possible. Upon one occasion, while bronzing a piece of rubber cloth, he applied aqua fortis to it for the purpose of removing the bronze from a certain part. It took away the bronze as he had designed, but it also discolored the cloth to such a degree that he supposed it ruined, and threw it away. A day or two later, he chanced to remember that he had not examined very closely into the effect of the aqua fortis upon the rubber, and thereupon instituted a search for it. He was fortunate enough to find it, and was overjoyed to discover that the rubber had undergone a remarkable change, and that the effect of the acid was to harden it to such an extent that it would now stand a degree of heat which would have melted it before. When the reader remembers that aqua fortis is a compound two-fifths of which is sulphuric acid, he will understand that Mr. Goodyear had almost mastered the secret of vulcanizing rubber. He does not appear, however, to have known the true nature of aqua fortis, and called his process the "curing" of India-rubber by the use of that acid.
The "cured" India-rubber was subjected to many tests, and passed through them successfully, thus demonstrating its adaptability to many important uses. Mr. Goodyear readily obtained a patent for his process, and a partner with a large capital was found ready to aid him. He hired the old India-rubber works on Staten Island, and opened a salesroom in Broadway. He was thrown back for six weeks at this important time by an accident, which happened to him while experimenting with his fabrics, and which came near causing his death. Just as he was recovering and preparing to commence the manufacture of his goods on a large scale, the terrible commercial crisis of 1836 swept over the country, and, by destroying his partner's fortune at one blow, reduced Goodyear to absolute beggary. His family had joined him in New York, and he was entirely without the means of supporting them. As the only resource at hand, he decided to pawn an article of value, one of the few which he possessed, in order to raise money enough to procure one day's supply of provisions. At the very door of the pawnbroker's shop he met one of his creditors, who kindly asked if he could be of any further assistance to him. Weak with hunger, and overcome by the generosity of his friend, the poor man burst into tears, and replied that, as his family was on the point of starvation, a loan of fifteen dollars would greatly oblige him. The money was given him on the spot, and the necessity for visiting the pawnbroker averted for several days longer. Still he was a frequent visitor to that individual during the year; and thus, one by one, the relics of his better days disappeared. Another friend loaned him one hundred dollars, which enabled him to remove his family to Staten Island, in the neighborhood of the abandoned rubber works, which the owners gave him permission to use as far as he could. He contrived in this way to manufacture enough of his "cured" cloth, which sold readily, to enable him to keep his family from starvation. He made repeated efforts to induce capitalists to come to the factory and see his samples and the process by which they were made, but no one would venture near him. There had been money enough lost in such experiments, they said, and they were determined to risk no more.
Indeed, in all the broad land there was but one man who had the slightest hope of accomplishing any thing with India-rubber, and that one was Charles Goodyear. His friends regarded him as a monomaniac. He not only manufactured his cloth, but even dressed in clothes made of it, wearing it for the purpose of testing its durability, as well as of advertising it. He was certainly an odd figure, and in his appearance justified the remark of one of his friends, who, upon being asked how Mr. Goodyear could be recognized, replied: "If you see a man with an India-rubber coat on, India-rubber shoes, an India-rubber cap, and in his pocket an India-rubber purse, with not a cent in it, that is Goodyear."
In September, 1836, a new gleam of hope lit up his pathway. A friend having loaned him a small sum of money, he went to Roxbury, taking with him some of his best specimens. Although the Roxbury Company had gone down with such a fearful crash, Mr. Chaffee, the inventor of the process in this country, was still firm in his faith that India-rubber would at some future time justify the expectations of its earliest friends. He welcomed Mr. Goodyear cordially, and allowed him to use the abandoned works of the company for his experiments. The result was that Goodyear succeeded in making slides and cloths of India-rubber of a quality so much better than any that had yet been seen in America, that the hopes of the friends of India-rubber were raised to a high point. Offers to purchase rights for certain portions of the country came in rapidly, and by the sale of them Goodyear realized between four and five thousand dollars. He was now able to bring his family to Roxbury, and for the time fortune seemed to smile upon him.
His success was but temporary, however. He obtained an order from the General Government for one hundred and fifty India-rubber mail-bags, which he succeeded in producing, and as they came out smooth, highly polished, hard, well shaped, and entirely impervious to moisture, he was delighted, and summoned his friends to inspect and admire them. All who saw them pronounced them a perfect success; but, alas! in a single month they began to soften and ferment, and finally became useless. Poor Goodyear's hopes were dashed to the ground. It was found that the aqua fortis merely "cured" the surface of the material, and that only very thin cloth made in this way was durable. His other goods began to prove worthless, and his promising business came to a sudden and disastrous end. All his possessions were seized and sold for debt, and once more he was reduced to poverty. His position was even worse than before, for his family had increased in size, and his aged father also had become dependent upon him for support.
Friends, relatives, and even his wife, all demanded that he should abandon his empty dreams, and turn his attention to something that would yield a support to his family. Four years of constant failure, added to the unfortunate experience of those who had preceded him, ought to convince him, they said, that he was hoping against hope. Hitherto his conduct, they said, had been absurd, though they admitted that he was to some extent excused for it by his partial success; but to persist in it would now be criminal. The inventor was driven to despair, and being a man of tender feelings and ardently devoted to his family, might have yielded to them had he not felt that lie was nearer than ever to the discovery of the secret that had eluded him so long.
Just before the failure of his mail-bags had brought ruin upon him, he had taken into his employ a man named Nathaniel Hayward, who had been the foreman of the old Roxbury works, and who was still in charge of them when Goodyear came to Roxbury, making a few rubber articles on his own account. He hardened his compound by mixing a little powdered sulphur with the gum, or by sprinkling sulphur on the rubber cloth, and drying it in the sun. He declared that the process had been revealed to him in a dream, but could give no further account of it. Goodyear was astonished to find that the sulphur cured the India-rubber as thoroughly as the aqua fortis, the principal objection being that the sulphurous odor of the goods was frightful in hot weather. Hayward's process was really the same as that employed by Goodyear, the "curing" of the India-rubber being due in each case to the agency of sulphur, the principal difference between them being that Hayward's goods were dried by the sun, and Goodyear's with nitric acid. Hay ward set so small a value upon his discovery that he had readily sold it to his new employer.
Goodyear felt that he had now all but conquered his difficulties. It was plain that sulphur was the great controller of India-rubber, for he had proved that when applied to thin cloth it would render it available for most purposes. The problem that now remained was how to mix sulphur and the gum in a mass, so that every part of the rubber should be subjected to the agency of the sulphur. He experimented for weeks and months with the most intense eagerness, but the mystery completely baffled him. His friends urged him to go to work to do something for his family, but he could not turn back. The goal was almost in sight, and he felt that he would be false to his mission were he to abandon his labors now. To the world he seemed a crack-brained dreamer, and some there were who, seeing the distress of his family, did not hesitate to apply still harsher names to him; but to the Great Eye that reads all hearts, how different did this man appear! It saw the anguish that wrung the heart of Charles Goodyear, and knew the more than heroic firmness with which, in the midst of his poverty and suffering, he agonized for the great discovery. Had it been merely wealth that he was working for, doubtless he would have turned back and sought some other means of obtaining it; but he sought more. He was striving for the good of his fellow-men, and ambitious of becoming a benefactor of the race. He felt that he had a mission to fulfill, and no one else could perform it.
He was right. A still greater success was about to crown his labors, but in a manner far different from his expectations. His experiments had developed nothing; chance was to make the revelation. It was in the spring of 1839 that this revelation came to him, and in the following manner: Standing before a stove in a store at Woburn, Massachusetts, he was explaining to some acquaintances the properties of a piece of sulphur-cured India-rubber which he held in his hand. They listened to him good-naturedly, but with evident incredulity, when suddenly he dropped the rubber on the stove, which was red hot. His old cloths would have melted instantly from contact with such heat; but, to his surprise, this piece underwent no such change. In amazement, he examined it, and found that while it had charred or shriveled, like leather, it had not softened at all. The bystanders attached no importance to this phenomenon, but to him it was a revelation. He renewed his experiments with enthusiasm, and in a little while established the facts that India-rubber, when mixed with sulphur and exposed to a certain degree of heat for a certain time, would not melt or even soften at any degree of heat, that it would only char at two hundred and eighty degrees, and that it would not stiffen from exposure to any degree of cold. The difficulty now consisted in finding out the exact degree of heat necessary for the perfection of the rubber, and the exact length of time required for the heating.
He made this discovery in his darkest days; when, in fact, he was in constant danger of arrest for debt, having already been a frequent inmate of the debtor's prison. He was in the depths of bitter poverty, and in such feeble health that he was constantly haunted by the fear of dying before he had perfected his discovery—before he had fulfilled his mission. His poverty was a greater drawback to him than ever before. He needed an apparatus for producing a high and uniform heat for his experiments, and he was unable to obtain it. He used to bake his compound in his wife's bread oven, and steam it over the spout of her tea-kettle, and to press the kitchen fire into his service as far as it would go. When this failed, he would go to the shops in the vicinity of Woburn, and beg to be allowed to use the ovens and boilers after working hours were over. The workmen regarded him as a lunatic, but were too good-natured to deny him the request. Finally, he induced a bricklayer to make him an oven, and paid him in mason's aprons of India-rubber. The oven was a failure. Sometimes it would turn out pieces of perfectly vulcanized cloth, and again the goods would be charred and ruined. Goodyear was in despair.
All this time he lived on the charity of his friends. His neighbors pretended to lend him money, but in reality gave him the means of keeping his family from starvation. He has declared that all the while he felt sure he would, before long, be able to pay them back, but they declared with equal emphasis that, at that time, they never expected to witness his success. He was yellow and shriveled in face, with a gaunt, lean figure, and his habit of wearing an India-rubber coat, which was charred and blackened from his frequent experiments with it, gave him a wild and singular appearance. People shook their heads solemnly when they saw him, and said that the mad-house was the proper place for him.
The winter of 1839-40 was long and severe. At the opening of the season, Mr. Goodyear received a letter from a house in Paris, making him a handsome offer for the use of his process of curing India-rubber with aqua fortis. Here was a chance for him to rise out of his misery. A year before he would have closed with the offer, but since then he had discovered the effects of sulphur and heat on his compound, and had passed far beyond the aqua fortis stage. Disappointment and want had not warped his honesty, and he at once declined to enter into any arrangements with the French house, informing them that although the process they desired to purchase was a valuable one, it was about to be entirely replaced by another which he was then on the point of perfecting, and which he would gladly sell them as soon as he had completed it. His friends declared that he was mad to refuse such an offer; but he replied that nothing would induce him to sell a process which he knew was about to be rendered worthless by still greater discoveries.
A few weeks later, a terrible snow-storm passed over the land, one of the worst that New England has ever known, and in the midst of it Goodyear made the appalling discovery that he had not a particle of fuel or a mouthful of food in the house. He was ill enough to be in bed himself, and his purse was entirely empty. It was a terrible position, made worse, too, by the fact that his friends who had formerly aided him had turned from him, vexed with his pertinacity, and abandoned him to his fate. In his despair, he bethought him of a mere acquaintance who lived several miles from his cottage, and who but a few days before had spoken to him with more of kindness than he had received of late. This gentleman, he thought, would aid him in his distress, if he could but reach his house, but in such a snow the journey seemed hopeless to a man in his feeble health. Still the effort must be made. Nerved by despair, he set out, and pushed his way resolutely through the heavy drifts. The way was long, and it seemed to him that he would never accomplish it. Often he fell prostrate on the snow, almost fainting with fatigue and hunger, and again he would sit down wearily in the road, feeling that he would gladly die if his discovery were but completed. At length, however, he reached the end of his journey, and fortunately found his acquaintance at home. To this gentleman he told the story of his discovery, his hopes, his struggles, and his present sufferings, and implored him to aid him. Mr. Coolidge[[H]] —for such was the gentleman's name—listened to him kindly, and after expressing the warmest sympathy for him, loaned him money enough to support his family during the severe weather, and to enable him to continue his experiments.
"Seeing no prospect of success in Massachusetts, he now resolved to make a desperate effort to get to New York, feeling confident that the specimens he could take with him would convince some one of the superiority of his new method. He was beginning to understand the causes of his many failures, but he saw clearly that his compound could not be worked with certainty without expensive apparatus. It was a very delicate operation, requiring exactness and promptitude. The conditions upon which success depended were numerous, and the failure of one spoiled all.... It cost him thousands of failures to learn that a little acid in his sulphur caused the blistering; that his compound must be heated almost immediately after being mixed, or it would never vulcanize; that a portion of white lead in the compound greatly facilitated the operation and improved the result; and when he had learned these facts, it still required costly and laborious experiments to devise the best methods of compounding his ingredients, the best proportions, the best mode of heating, the proper duration of the heating, and the various useful effects that could be produced by varying the proportions and the degree of heat. He tells us that many times when, by exhausting every resource, he had prepared a quantity of his compound for heating, it was spoiled because he could not, with his inadequate apparatus, apply the heat soon enough.
"To New York, then, he directed his thoughts. Merely to get there cost him a severer and a longer effort than men in general are capable of making. First he walked to Boston, ten miles distant, where he hoped to borrow from an old acquaintance fifty dollars, with which to provide for his family and pay his fare to New York. He not only failed in this, but he was arrested for debt and thrown into prison. Even in prison, while his father was negotiating to procure his release, he labored to interest men of capital in his discovery, and made proposals for founding a factory in Boston. Having obtained his liberty, he went to a hotel, and spent a week in vain efforts to effect a small loan. Saturday night came, and with it his hotel bill, which he had no means of discharging. In an agony of shame and anxiety, he went to a friend and entreated the sum of five dollars to enable him to return home. He was met with a point blank refusal. In the deepest dejection, he walked the streets till late in the night, and strayed at length, almost beside himself, to Cambridge, where he ventured to call upon a friend and ask shelter for the night. He was hospitably entertained, and the next morning walked wearily home, penniless and despairing. At the door of his house a member of his family met him with the news that his youngest child, two years old, whom he had left in perfect health, was dying. In a few hours he had in his house a dead child, but not the means of burying it, and five living dependents without a morsel of food to give them. A storekeeper near by had promised to supply the family, but, discouraged by the unforeseen length of the father's absence, he had that day refused to trust them further. In these terrible circumstances, he applied to a friend upon whose generosity he knew he could rely, one who never failed him. He received in reply a letter of severe and cutting reproach, inclosing seven dollars, which his friend explained was given only out of pity for his innocent and suffering family. A stranger who chanced to be present when this letter arrived sent them a barrel of flour—a timely and blessed relief. The next day the family followed on foot the remains of the little child to the grave."
He had now reached the lowest ebb of his misery, and a brighter day was in store for him. Obtaining fifty dollars from a relative, he went to New York, where he succeeded in interesting in his discovery two brothers, William and Emory Rider. They agreed to advance him a certain sum to support his family and continue his experiments. By means of this aid he was enabled to keep his family from want in the future, and from that time his experiments never flagged. Before entire success crowned his efforts, the brothers Rider failed; but he had advanced his experiments so greatly that his brother-in-law, William De Forrest, a rich woolen manufacturer, came to his support, and supplied him with the means to go on with his labors. Mr. De Forrest's total advances amounted to forty-six thousand dollars, from which fact the reader may gain some idea of the obstacles overcome by Goodyear in this last stage of his invention.
The prize for which he had labored so long and so heroically was secured at last, and in 1844, ten years after the commencement of his experiments, he was able to produce perfectly vulcanized India-rubber with expedition and economy, and, above all, with certainty. He had won a success which added a new material to art and commerce, and one which could be applied in a thousand different ways, and all of them useful to man. But great as his success was, he was not satisfied with it. To the end of his life his constant effort was to improve his invention, and apply it to new uses. He had an unlimited faith in its adaptability, believing that there was scarcely any article of general use that could not be made of it. Upon one occasion he read in a newspaper that twenty persons perished every hour by drowning. The statement impressed him deeply, and his wife noticed that for several nights he scarcely slept at all. "Try to compose yourself, and sleep," she said to him. "Sleep!" he exclaimed, "how can I sleep when twenty human beings are drowning every hour, and I am the man that can save them?" And at this time it was his constant endeavor to invent some article of India-rubber which could be easily carried by travelers, and which would render it impossible for them to sink in water.
Having brought his process to a successful completion in this country, and obtained patents for it, he went to Europe to secure similar protections in the principal countries of the Old World. "The French laws require that the patentee shall put and keep his invention in public use in France within two years from its date. Goodyear had, at great inconvenience and expense, endeavored to comply with this and with all other requirements of the French laws, and thought he had effectually done so; but the courts of France decided that he had not in every particular complied with the strict requisitions of the law, and that, therefore, his patent in France had become void. In England he was still more unfortunate. Having sent specimens of vulcanized fabrics to Charles Mackintosh & Co., in 1842, and having opened with them a negotiation for the sale of the secret of the invention or discovery, one of the partners of that firm, named Thomas Hancock, availing himself, as he admits, of the hints and opportunities thus presented to him, rediscovered, as he affirms, the process of vulcanization, and described it in a patent for England, which was enrolled on May 21, 1844, about five weeks after the specification and publication of the discovery to the world by Goodyear's patent for vulcanization in France. And the patent of Hancock, held good according to a peculiarity of English law, thus superseded Goodyear's English patent for vulcanization, which bore date a few days later. Goodyear, however, obtained the great council medal of the exhibition of all nations at London, the grand medal of the world's exhibition at Paris, and the ribbon of the Legion of Honor, presented by Napoleon III."
In his own country, Mr. Goodyear was scarcely less unfortunate. His patents were infringed and violated by others, even after the decision of the courts seemed to place his rights beyond question. He was too thoroughly the inventor and too little the man of business to protect himself from the robberies of the wretches who plundered him of the profits of his invention. It is said that his inability to manage sharp transactions made him the victim of many who held nominally fair business relations with him. The United States Commissioner of Patents, in 1858, thus spoke of his losses:
"No inventor, probably, has ever been so harassed, so trampled upon, so plundered by that sordid and licentious class of infringers known in the parlance of the world, with no exaggeration of phrase, as 'pirates.' The spoliation of their incessant guerrilla warfare upon his defenseless rights have, unquestionably, amounted to millions."
Failing to accomplish any thing in Europe, Mr. Goodyear returned to this country, and continued his labors. His health, never strong, gave way under the continued strain, and he died in New York in July, 1860, in the sixtieth year of his age, completely worn out. Notwithstanding his great invention—an invention which has made millions for those engaged in its manufacture—he died insolvent, and left his family heavily in debt. A few years after his death an effort was made to procure from Congress a further seven years' extension of his patent for vulcanization, for the benefit of his family and his creditors. The men who had trampled his rights under foot while living were resolved, however, that he should not have justice done him in death; and, through their influence, that august body, in strange contrast with its usual lavish generosity in the matter of land grants and the like, coldly declined to do any thing for the family of the man to whom civilization owes so much, and the effort proved abortive.
But, though unfortunate in a pecuniary sense, though he died without freeing himself from the embarrassments which haunted him through life, there can be no question that Charles Goodyear richly merits the place which we have given him in this gallery of "Our Self-made Men;" not only on account of the great merit and usefulness of his discovery or invention, but because that invention has been the source of many a "great fortune" to others, as it might, indeed, have been to him, had his rights been respected, or properly protected when infringed. It is sad to reflect that he died poor who has given wealth to so many, and accomplished results so beneficent to mankind. Yet he did not fail entirely of his reward in life; he lived to see his invention give rise to large factories in the United States, and in England, France, and Germany, which employ sixty thousand operatives, and produce over five hundred different kinds of articles, to the amount of eight millions of dollars annually. He lived to see boots and shoes, clothing, caps, hats, articles of commerce and of pleasure, mechanical, scientific, and surgical instruments, toys, belting for machinery, packing for the steam-engine, and many other articles now in common use, made of the material, the discovery and perfection of which cost him long and sorrowful years of toil. He lived to hear his name mentioned by millions as one of their greatest benefactors; to know that he had conferred upon the world benefits of which those who had robbed him could not deprive his fellow-men; and to feel that he had at length accomplished his mission—a mission which has been productive of good alone.
Footnote H: [(return)]
O.B. Coolidge, of Woburn.
