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Title: Great Fortunes, and How They Were Made

Author: James Dabney McCabe

Illustrator: Edmund Birckhead Bensell
George F. Bensell

Release date: February 24, 2005 [eBook #15161]
Most recently updated: October 20, 2023

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/15161

Credits: E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Dave Macfarlane, and the
Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team

*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREAT FORTUNES,
AND HOW THEY WERE MADE ***

E-text prepared by Juliet Sutherland, Dave Macfarlane,
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CONSTERNATION AT THE SIGHT OF FULTON'S MONSTER.

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.
Girard College
Girard's Heroism
Astor's First Trip For Furs
"My Men Shall Not Suffer"
Portrait Of George Peabody
Peabody Paying For A Night's Lodging
Portrait Of Cornelius Vanderbilt
Vanderbilt Earning His First Hundred Dollars
Vanderbilt Carrying Off The Sheriff
Founding A Great Fortune
Portrait Of Robert Fulton

An Amazing Revelation
"The Madhouse Is The Proper Place For Him"
Whitney Watching The First Cotton-Gin
Portrait Of Elias Howe, Jr.
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
Portrait Of James T. Brady
"They Are Going To Hang My Brother; You Can Save Him!"
The Truant's Secret Discovered
Portrait Of Hiram Powers
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."

GIRARD COLLEGE

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.'"

GIRARD'S HEROISM
"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 FIRST TRIP FOR FURS.
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
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.

CORNELIUS VANDERBILT.

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.

VANDERBILT EARNING HIS FIRST HUNDRED DOLLARS.
"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."

VANDERBILT CARRYING OFF THE SHERIFF.

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.

FOUNDING A GREAT FORTUNE
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.

ROBERT FULTON.

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.

AN AMAZING REVELATION.
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.

"THE MADHOUSE IS THE PROPER PLACE FOR HIM."

CHAPTER XV.
ELI WHITNEY.

At the close of the Revolution the States of South Carolina and Georgia presented
large tracts of land to the gallant General Nathaniel Greene, to whose genius they
were indebted for their relief from British tyranny. Soon after this grant was made,
General Greene removed his family to Mulberry Grove, a fine plantation on the
Georgia side of the Savannah River. Here he died in 1786, from sunstroke, but his
family continued to reside on the place. The mansion of Mrs. Greene was noted for
its hospitality, and was frequently filled with guests who came to pay their respects
to the widow of the most brilliant and best trusted subordinate of the immortal
Washington.
To this mansion there came one day, in the year 1792, Eli Whitney, then a young
man recently from New England. He was a native of Westborough, Massachusetts,
where he was born on the 8th of December, 1765. Of his youth but little is known,
save that he was gifted with unusual mechanical genius, the employment of which
enabled him to overcome some of the difficulties incident to his poverty, and to
acquire the means of obtaining a good common school education. Adding to this
the labors of a teacher, he earned a sum sufficient to carry him through Yale
College, where he was graduated in the summer of 1702, a few months before his
arrival in Georgia. He had come South to accept the offer of a situation as teacher,
but the place had been filled before his arrival, and, being without friends in that
section, he sought employment from Mrs. Greene. Though pleased with his
modesty and intelligence, that lady could not avail herself of his services as a tutor,
but invited him to make her house his home as long as he should desire to remain
in Georgia. He was sick in body and disheartened by his first failure, and gladly
accepted her invitation. While her guest he made her a tambour frame of an
improved pattern, and a number of ingenious toys for her children, which so
delighted the good lady that she enthusiastically declared him capable of doing any
thing.
Not long after Mr. Whitney's arrival at the plantation, Mrs. Greene was
entertaining a number of visitors from the surrounding country, several planters of
considerable wealth being among the number, when one of the guests turned the
conversation upon the subject of cotton-raising, by declaring that he had met with

such poor success that he was ready to abandon the undertaking. His trouble was
not, he said, that cotton would not grow in his land, for it yielded an abundant
return, but that the labor of clearing it from the seed was so enormous that he
could not do more than pay expenses after selling it.
His case was simply one among a thousand. The far Southern States were admitted
by every one to be admirably adapted to the cultivation of cotton, but, after it was
grown and picked, the expense of cleaning it destroyed nearly all the profits of the
transaction. The cleaning process was performed by hand, and it was as much as
an able-bodied negro could do to clean one pound per day in this manner.
Disheartened by this difficulty, which no one had yet been able to remove, the
planters of the South were seriously contemplating the entire abandonment of this
portion of their industry, since it only involved them in debt. Their lands were
heavily mortgaged, and general ruin seemed to threaten them. All felt that the
invention of a machine for cleaning or ginning the cotton would not only remove
their difficulties, but enable them to plant the green cotton-seed, from the use of
which they were then almost entirely debarred, because, although more productive
and of a better quality than the black, and adapted by nature to a much greater
variety of climate, it was much more difficult to clean, and therefore less profitable
to cultivate.
These facts were discussed in the conversation at Mrs. Greene's table, and it was
suggested by one of the company that perhaps the very urgency of the case would
induce some ingenious man to invent a machine which should solve the problem,
and remove all the difficulties in the way.
"Is it a machine you want?" said Mrs. Greene, eagerly. "Then, gentlemen, you
should apply to my young friend, Mr. Whitney; he can make any thing."
She at once sent for Whitney, and introduced him to her guests, who repeated to
him the substance of their conversation, and urged him to undertake the invention
of what was so much needed. The young man protested that he had never seen
either a pod of cotton or a cotton-seed in his life, and was utterly incompetent for
the task they proposed. In spite of this, however, his new acquaintances urged him
to attempt it, and assured him that if successful his invention would make his
fortune. Whitney would promise nothing more than to think of the matter, and the
planters departed in the belief that nothing would come of their entreaties, and that
the culture of cotton would languish until it should finally die out.
Whitney did think of the matter, and the result was that he decided to attempt the
production of a machine which should clean cotton both expeditiously and
cheaply. It was late in the season, and unginned cotton, or cotton from which the

seeds had not been removed, was hard to procure. With considerable difficulty he
succeeded in finding a few pounds on the wharf at Savannah, and at once securing
his prize, he carried it home in his hands.

Mrs. Greene being confidentially informed of his plans, provided him with a room
in the cellar of her house, where he could carry on his work in secret. All that
winter he worked at it, with a patience and energy which could not fail of success.
Many difficulties confronted him. To carry on his work successfully, he needed
tools of a certain description, which were not to be had in Savannah, or even in
Charleston, upon any terms. But when was the genius of a Yankee ever baffled by
difficulties? Whitney's mechanical skill came to his aid, and he conquered this
obstacle by manufacturing all the implements he needed. He wanted wire, but
none was to be found, and he was compelled to make all that he used. A score or
more of drawbacks presented themselves, and were overcome in this way, and all
through the winter the young inventor applied himself with diligence to his task.
The children and servants regarded him with the greatest curiosity. They heard him
hammering and sawing in his room, the doors of which were always kept locked,
and into which they were never allowed to enter. Mrs. Greene was kept fully

informed of his progress. When sure of success, Whitney revealed the secret to a
Mr. Miller, a gentleman of means, who consented to enter into a copartnership
with him for the manufacture of the machines, after the completion of the model
should have enabled Whitney to secure a patent for his invention.
Whitney had hoped to keep his work secret from all others, but this proved to be
impossible. It became rumored about the country that the young man from New
England, who was living at Mrs. Greene's, was engaged in inventing a machine
which would clean cotton with the rapidity of thought, and the most intense
eagerness was manifested to see the wonderful production, which every one felt
would entirely revolutionize cotton culture in the South. Whitney endeavored to
guard his invention from the public curiosity, but without success. Before he had
completed his model, some scoundrels broke into the place containing it, and
carried it off by night. He succeeded in recovering it, but the principle upon which
it depended was made public, and before the model was completed and a patent
secured, a number of machines based on his invention had been surreptitiously
made, and were in operation.
In spite of this discouraging circumstance, Whitney brought his invention to
perfection, and in the spring of 1793 set up his first cotton gin, under a shed on
Mrs. Greene's plantation, and invited a number of the neighboring planters to
witness its operation.
His machine was very simple, but none the less ingenious on that account. The
cotton was placed in a trough, the bottom of which consisted of parallel rows of
wire, placed like the bars in a grating, but so close together that the seed could not
pass through them. Underneath this trough revolved an iron roller, armed with
teeth formed of strong wires projecting from the roller, which passed between the
wire bars, and, seizing the cotton, drew it through the bars and passed it behind the
roller, where it was brushed off the wire teeth by means of a cylindrical brush. The
seed, unable to pass through the bars, were left behind, and, completely stripped of
the fiber, ran out in a stream through a spout at one end of the trough. It was found
that the cotton thus ginned was cleaned thoroughly,[I] and far better than it could
be done by hand, and that a single man, by this process, could clean as much as
three hundred pounds in a day.
The spectators were delighted with Whitney's machine, and urged him to lose no
time in putting it in the market. They predicted an unlimited success for it, and
assured the inventor that it would not only make his own fortune, but also render
cotton culture the source of wealth to the South. They did not exaggerate. As soon
as it was made known to the public, Whitney's machine came into general use.
Planters had no longer any thing to fear from the labor and expense of preparing

their great staple for market. Whitney's genius had swept away all their difficulties,
and they reaped a golden harvest from it. They were enabled to send their cotton
promptly and cheaply to market, where it brought good prices. With the money
thus obtained they paid their debts, and increased their capacity for cultivation.
Every year the area devoted to cotton-growing became more extended, and the
prosperity of the South became greater and more durable. In 1793, the total export
of cotton from the United States was ten thousand bales; in 1860, it was over four
millions of bales. Hundreds of millions of dollars were brought into the South by
this invention—so that it is no exaggeration to say that the remarkable prosperity
enjoyed by the South at the commencement of our late civil war was due entirely
to the genius of Eli Whitney. This opinion is fortified by the following remarks of
Judge Johnson, uttered in a charge to the jury in a suit brought by Whitney, in
Savannah, in 1807, to sustain the validity of his patent:
"With regard to the utility of this discovery ... the whole interior of the Southern
States was languishing, and its inhabitants emigrating for want of some object to
engage their attention and employ their industry, when the invention of this
machine at once opened views to them which set the whole country in active
motion. From childhood to age it has presented to us a lucrative employment.
Individuals who were depressed with poverty, and sunk in idleness, have suddenly
risen to wealth and respectability. Our debts have been paid off, our capitals have
increased, and our lands have trebled themselves in value. We can not express the
weight of the obligation which the country owes to this invention. The extent of it
can not now be seen."
Surely, the reader will exclaim, if such was the profit of this invention to the
country at large, what a vast fortune must it have been to its inventor! Let us see.
In May, 1793, Whitney and Miller went to Connecticut and established a factory
for the construction of cotton gins. They were in possession of a patent which was
supposed to pledge to them the protection of the United States. The demand for the
machine was increasing every day, and it seemed that they would reap a golden
harvest from it. They were disappointed. The machine was so simple that any
competent mechanic could easily manufacture one after examining the model, and
this temptation to dishonesty proved too strong for the morality of the cotton-
growing community. In a short time there were hundreds of fraudulent machines at
work in the South, made and sold in direct and open violation of Whitney's rights.
In vain the inventor brought suit against those who infringed his patent. It was rare
that a jury in a cotton State gave a verdict in his favor. In Georgia it was boldly
asserted that Whitney was not the inventor of the cotton gin, but that some persons
in Switzerland had invented something similar to it, and the substitution of teeth,
cut in an iron plate, instead of wire, was claimed as superseding his invention. The