OGDEN'S NEW MILL.
Our Jacob, or big Jacob, or Jacob at Milend, as he now began to be
called in the Ogden family, to distinguish him from his nephew and
homonym, had arrived at that point in the career of every successful
cotton-spinner when a feeling of great embarrassment arises as to the
comparative wisdom of purchasing an estate or "laying down a new mill."
When his brother Isaac retired from the concern with ten thousand
pounds, Jacob had not precisely cheated him, perhaps, but he had made a
bargain which, considered prospectively, was highly favorable to his own
interest; and since he had been alone, the profits from the mill had
been so considerable that his savings had rapidly accumulated, and he
was now troubled with a very heavy balance at his bankers, and in
various investments, which, to a man accustomed to receive the large
interest of successful cotton-spinning, seemed little better than
letting money lie idle. Mrs. Ogden had three hundred a-year from five or
six very small farms of her own, which she had inherited from her
mother, and this amply sufficed for the entire expenses of the little
household at Milend. Jacob spent about a hundred and fifty pounds a-year
on himself personally, of which two-thirds were absorbed in
shooting,--the only amusement he cared about. His tailor's bill was
incredibly small, for he had the excuse, when in Shayton, of being
constantly about the mill, and it was natural that he should wear old
fustian and corduroy there; and as for his journeys to Manchester, it
was his custom on these occasions to wear the suit which had been the
Sunday suit of the preceding year. His mother knitted all his stockings
for him, and made his shirts, these being her usual occupations in an
evening. His travelling expenses were confined to the weekly journeys to
Manchester, and as these were always on business, they were charged to
the concern. If Jacob Ogden had not been fond of shooting, his personal
expenses, beyond food and lodging (which were provided for him by his
mother), would not have exceeded fifty pounds a-year; and it is a proof
of the great firmness of his character in money matters that, although
by nature passionately fond of sport, he resolutely kept the cost of it
within the hundred. His annual outlay upon literature was within twenty
shillings; not that it is to be supposed that he spent so large a sum as
one pound sterling in a regular manner upon books, but he had been
tempted by a second-hand copy of Baine's 'History of Lancashire,' which,
being much the worse for wear, had been marked by the bookseller at five
pounds, and Jacob Ogden, by hard bargaining, had got it for four pounds
nine shillings and ninepence. After this extravagance he resolved to
spend no more "foolish money," as he called it, and for several years
made no addition to his library, except a book on dog-breeding, and a
small treatise on the preservation of game, which he rightly entered
amongst his expenses as a sportsman. We are far from desiring to imply
that Jacob Ogden is in this respect to be considered a representative
example of the present generation of cotton-manufacturers, many of whom
are highly educated men, but he may be fairly taken as a specimen of
that generation which founded the colossal fortunes that excite the
wonder, and sometimes, perhaps, awaken the envy, of the learned. When
nature produces a creature for some especial purpose, she does not
burden it with wants and desires that would scatter its force and impair
its efficiency. The industrial epoch had to be inaugurated, the
manufacturing districts had to be created--and to do this a body of men
were needed who should be fresh springs of pure energy, and reservoirs
of all but illimitable capital; men who should act with the certainty
and steadiness of natural instincts which have never been impaired by
the hesitations of culture and philosophy--men who were less nearly
related to university professors than to the ant, and the beaver, and
the bee. And if any cultivated and intellectual reader, in the
thoughtful retirement of his library, feels himself superior to Jacob
Ogden, the illiterate cotton-spinner, he may be reminded that he is not
on all points Ogden's superior. We are all but tools in the hands of
God; and as in the mind of a writer great delicacy and flexibility are
necessary qualities for the work he is appointed to do, so in the mind
of a great captain of industry the most valuable qualities may be the
very opposite of these. Have we the energy, the directness, the
singleness of purpose, the unflinching steadiness in the dullest
possible labor, that mark the typical industrial chief? We know that we
have not; we know that these qualities are not compatible with the
tranquillity of the studious temperament and the meditative life. And if
the Ogdens cannot be men of letters, neither can the men of letters be
Ogdens.
It is admitted, then, that Jacob Ogden was utterly and irreclaimably
illiterate. He really never read a book in his life, except, perhaps,
that book on dog-breaking. Whenever he tried to read, it was a task and
a labor to him; and as literature is not of the least use in the cotton
trade, the energy of his indomitable will had never been brought to bear
upon the mastery of a book. And yet you could not meet him without
feeling that he was very intelligent--that he possessed a kind of
intelligence cultivated by the closest observation of the men and things
within the narrow circle of his life. Has it never occurred to the
reader how wonderfully the most illiterate people often impress us with
a sense of their intelligence--how men and women who never learned the
alphabet have its light on their countenance and in their eyes? In
Ogden's face there were clear signs of that, and of other qualities
also. And there was a keenness in the glance quite different from the
penetration of the thinker or the artist--a keenness which always comes
from excessively close and minute attention to money matters, and from
the passionate love of money, and which no other passion or occupation
ever produces.
In all that related to money Jacob Ogden acted with the pitiless
regularity of the irresistible forces of nature. As the sea which feeds
the fisherman will drown him without remorse--as the air which we all
breathe will bury us under heaps of ruin--so this man, though his
capital enabled a multitude to live, would take the bed from under a
sick debtor, and, rather than lose an imperceptible atom of his fortune,
inflict the utmost extremity of misery. Even Hanby, his attorney, who
was by no means tender-hearted, had been staggered at times by his
pitilessness, and had ventured upon a feeble remonstrance. On these
occasions a shade of sternness was added to the keenness of Ogden's
face, and he repeated a terrible maxim, which, with one or two others,
guided his life: "If a man means to be rich, he must have no fine
feelings;" and then he would add, "_I_ mean to be rich."
Perhaps he would have had fine feelings on a Sunday, for on Sundays he
was religious, and went to church, where he heard a good deal about
being merciful and forgiving which on week-days he would have attributed
to the influence of the sentiments which he despised. But Ogden was far
too judicious an economist of human activities to be ignorant of the
great art of self-adaptation to the duties and purposes of the hour; and
as a prudent lawyer who has a taste for music will take care that it
shall not interfere with his professional work, so Jacob Ogden, who
really had rather a taste for religion, and liked to sit in church with
gloved hands and a clean face, had no notion of allowing the beautiful
sentiments which he heard there to paralyze his action on a week-day.
Every Sunday he prayed repeatedly that God would forgive him his debts
or trespasses as he forgave his debtors or those that trespassed against
him; but that was no reason why he should not, from Monday morning to
Saturday night inclusively, compel everybody to pay what he owed, and
distress him for it if necessary. After all, he acted so simply and
instinctively that one can hardly blame him very severely. The truest
definition of him would be, an incarnate natural force. The forces of
wealth, which are as much natural forces as those of fire and frost, had
incarnated themselves in him. His sympathy with money was so complete,
he had so entirely subjected his mind to it, so thoroughly made himself
its pupil and its mouth-piece, that it is less accurate to say that he
_had_ money than that he _was_ money. Jacob Ogden was a certain sum of
money whose unique idea was its own increase, and which acted in
obedience to the laws of wealth as infallibly as a planet acts in
obedience to the cosmic forces.
It is only natural that a man so endowed and so situated should grow
rich. In all respects circumstances were favorable to him. He had robust
health and indefatigable energy. His position in a little place like
Shayton, where habits of spending had not yet penetrated, was also
greatly in his favor, because it sheltered him in undisturbed obscurity.
No man who is born to wealth, and has lived from his infancy in the
upper class, will confine his expenditure during the best years of
manhood to the pittance which sufficed for Ogden. It was an advantage to
him, also, that his mind should be empty, because he needed all the room
in it for the endless details concerning his property and his trade. No
fact of this nature, however minute, escaped him. His knowledge of the
present state of all that belonged to him was so clear and accurate,
and his foresight as to probable changes so sure, that he anticipated
every thing, and neutralized every cause of loss before it had time to
develop itself.
That a man whose daily existence proved the fewness of his wants should
have an eager desire for money, may appear one of the inconsistencies of
human nature; but in the case of Jacob Ogden, and in thousands of cases
similar to his, there is no real inconsistency. He did not desire money
in order to live luxuriously; he desired it because the mere possession
of it brought increased personal consideration, and gave him weight and
importance in the little community he lived in. And when a man relies on
wealth _alone_ for his position--when he is, obviously, not a
gentleman--he needs a great quantity of it. Another reason why Jacob
Ogden never felt that he had enough was because the men with whom he
habitually compared himself, and whom he wished to distance in the race,
did not themselves remain stationary, but enriched themselves so fast
that it needed all Jacob Ogden's genius for money-getting to keep up
with them; for men of talent in every order compare themselves with
their equals and rivals, and not with the herd of the incapable. It was
his custom to go to Manchester in the same railway carriage with four or
five men of business, who talked of nothing but investments, and it
would have made Jacob Ogden miserable not to be able to take a share in
these conversations on terms of perfect equality.
"I'm sure," thought Mrs. Ogden, "that our Jacob's got something on his
mind. He sits and thinks a deal more than he used doin'. He's 'appen[11]
fallen in love, an' doesn't like to tell me about it, because it's same
as tellin' me to leave Milend."
Mrs. Ogden was confirmed in her suspicions that very evening by the fact
that "our Jacob" shut himself up in the little sitting-room with a
builder. "If it's to build himself a new 'ouse and leave me at Milend,
I willn't stop; and if it's to build me a new 'ouse, I shall never live
there. I shall go an' live i' th' Cream-pot."
The idea of Mrs. Ogden living in a cream-pot may appear to some readers
almost as mythical as the story of that other and much more famous old
lady who lived in a shoe; but although a cream-pot would not be a bad
place to live in if one were a mouse, and the rich fluid not dangerously
deep, it is not to be supposed that Mrs. Ogden entertained such a
project in an obvious and literal sense. Her intentions were rational,
but they need a word of explanation. She possessed a small farm called
the Cream-pot; and of all her small farms this was her best beloved.
Therefore had she resolved, years and years before, that when Jacob
married she would go to the Cream-pot, and dwell there for the days that
might remain to her.
She waited till the builder had gone, and then went into the little
room. Jacob was busy examining a plan. "I wish you wouldn't trouble
yourself about that buildin', Jacob," said Mrs. Ogden; "there needs no
buildin', for as soon as ever you get wed I shall go to th' Cream-pot."
Her son looked up from his plan with an air of the utmost astonishment.
Mrs. Ogden continued,--
"I think you might have told me about it a little sooner. I don't even
know her name, not positively, though I may guess it, perhaps. There's
no doubt about one thing--you'll have time enough to repent in. As they
make their bed, so they must lie."
"What the devil," said Jacob, thinking aloud and _very_ loudly,--"what
the devil is th' ould woman drivin' at?"
"Nay, if I'm to be sworn at, I've been too long i' this 'ouse already."
And Mrs. Ogden, with that stately step which distinguished her, made
slowly for the door.
In cases where the lady of a house acts in a manner which is altogether
absurd, the male or males, whose comfort is in a great degree dependent
upon her good temper, have a much better chance of restoring it than
when she is but moderately unreasonable. They are put upon their guard;
they are quite safe from that most fatal of errors, an attempt to bring
the lady round by those too direct arguments which are suggested by
masculine frankness; they are warned that judicious management is
necessary. Thus, although Jacob Ogden, in the first shock of his
astonishment, had not replied to his mother in a manner precisely
calculated to soothe her, he at once perceived his error, and saw that
she must be brought round. In politer spheres, where people beg pardon
of each other for the most trifling and even imaginary offences, the
duty of begging pardon is so constantly practised that (like all
well-practised duties) it is extremely easy. But it was impossible for
Jacob Ogden, who had never begged pardon in his life.
"I say, mother, stop a bit. You've gotten a bit o' brass o' your own,
an' I'm layin' down a new mill, and I shall want o' th'[12] brass I can
lay my hands on. I willn't borrow none, out of this 'ouse, not even of
my brother Isaac; but if you could lend me about four thousand pound, I
could give a better finish to th' new shed."
"Why, Jacob, you never told me as you were layin' down a new mill."
"No, but I should a' done if you'd a' waited a bit I never right made up
my mind about it while last night."
It was not Jacob Ogden's custom to be confidential with his mother about
money matters, and she on her part had been too proud to seek a
confidence that was never offered; but many little signs had of late led
her to the conclusion that Jacob was in a period of unusual prosperity.
He had bought one or two small estates for three or four thousand
pounds each, and then had suddenly declared that he would lay out no
more money in "potterin' bits o' property like them, but keep it while
he'd a good lump for summat o' some use." The decision about the new
mill proved to Mrs. Ogden that the "lump" in question was already
accumulated.
"Jacob," she said, "how much do you reckon to put into th' new mill?"
"Why, 'appen about forty thousand; an' if you'll lend me four, that'll
be forty-four."
This was a larger sum than Mrs. Ogden had hoped; but she showed no sign
of rejoicing beyond a quiet smile.
"And where do you think of buildin' it?"
"Well, mother, if you don't mind sellin' me Little Mouse Field, it's the
best mill-site in all Shayton. There's that water-course so handy; and
it'll increase the valley[13] of our land round about it."
Mrs. Ogden was perfectly soothed by this time. Jacob wanted to borrow
four thousand pounds of her. She had coal under her little farms, of
which the accumulated produce had reached rather more than that amount;
and she promised the loan with a facetious hope that the borrower would
be able to give her good security. As to Little Mouse Field, he was
quite welcome to it, and she begged him to accept it as a present.
"Nay, mother; you shouldn't give me no presents bout[14] givin' summat
to our Isaac. But I reckon it's all one; for all as I have, or shall
have, 'll go to little Jacob."
"Eh, how you talk, lad! Why, you'll get wed an' have chilther of your
own. You're young enough, an' well off beside."
"There's no need for me to get wed, mother, so long as th' old woman
lasts, an' who'll last a long while yet, I reckon. There's none o' these
young ladies as is kerfle enough to do for a man like me as has been
accustomed to see his house well managed. Why, they cannot neither make
a shirt nor a puddin'."
These disparaging remarks concerning the "Girl of the Period" filled (as
they were designed to fill) Mrs. Ogden's mind with tranquillity and
satisfaction. To complete her good-humor, Jacob unrolled the plans and
elevation of his new mill. The plans were most extensive, but the
elevation did not strike the spectator by its height; for as the site
was not costly, Jacob Ogden had adopted a system then becoming prevalent
in the smaller towns of the manufacturing districts, where land was
comparatively cheap--the system of erecting mills rather as sheds than
on the old five-storied model. His new mill was simply a field walled in
and roofed over, with a tall engine house and an enormous chimney at one
end. People of æsthetic tastes would see nothing lovely in the long
straight lines of roofs and rows of monotonously identical windows which
displayed themselves on the designs drawn by Ogden's architect; but to
Ogden's eyes there was a beauty here greater than that of the finest
cathedral he had ever beheld. He was not an imaginative person; but he
had quite enough imagination to realize the vista of the vast interior,
the roar of the innumerable wheels, the incessant activity of the living
makers of his wealth. He saw himself standing in the noble engine-room,
and watching the unhurried see-saw of the colossal beams; the rise and
fall of the pistons, thicker than the spear of Goliath, and brighter
than columns of silver; the revolution of the enormous fly-wheel; the
exquisite truth of motion; the steadiness of man's great creature, that
never knows fatigue. That engine-room should be the finest in all
Shayton. It should have a plaster cornice round its ceiling, and a great
moulded ornament in the middle of it; the gas-lights should be in
handsome ground-glass globes; and about the casings of the cylinders
there should be a luxury of mahogany and brass.
"But, Jacob," said his mother, when she had duly adjusted her
spectacles, and gradually mastered the main features of the plan, "it
seems to me as you've put th' mill all o' one side, and th' engine
nobbut half-fills th' engine-house."
Ogden had never heard of Taymouth Castle and the old Earl of
Breadalbane, who, when somebody asked him why he built his house at the
extremity of his estate, instead of in the middle of it, answered that
he intended to "brizz yint."[15] But, like the ambitious Earl, Ogden was
one of those who "brizz yint."
"Why, mother," he said, "this 'ere's nobbut half the new mill. What can
you do with forty-five thousand?"