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.