PUBLIC OPINION ON THE SUBJECT OF MONOPOLIES.—HIS FIRST EXPERIENCE IN
RAILROAD MANAGEMENT.—HOW HE IMPROVED THE HARLEM RAILROAD
PROPERTY.—HIS GREAT EXECUTIVE POWER MANIFESTED IN EVERY STAGE OF
ADVANCE UNTIL HE BECOMES PRESIDENT OF THE VANDERBILT CONSOLIDATED
SYSTEM.—AN INDEFATIGABLE WORKER.—HIS HABIT OF SCRUTINIZING EVERY
DETAIL.—HIS PRUDENT ACTION IN THE GREAT STRIKE OF 1877, AND ITS GOOD
RESULTS.—SETTLED ALL MISUNDERSTANDINGS BY PEACE AND
ARBITRATION.—MAKES PRINCELY PRESENTS TO HIS SISTERS.—THE SINGULAR
GRATITUDE OF A BROTHER-IN-LAW.—HOW HE COMPROMISES BY A GIFT OF A
MILLION WITH YOUNG CORNEEL.—GLADSTONE’S IDEA OF THE VANDERBILT
FORTUNE.—INTERVIEW OF CHAUNCEY M. DEPEW WITH THE G. O. M. ON THE
SUBJECT.—THE GREAT VANDERBILT MANSION AND THE CELEBRATED BALL.—THE
IMMENSE PICTURE GALLERY.—MR. VANDERBILT VISITS SOME OF THE FAMOUS
ARTISTS.—HIS LOVE OF FAST HORSES.—A PATRON OF PUBLIC
INSTITUTIONS.—HIS GIFT TO THE WAITER STUDENTS.—WHILE SENSITIVE TO
PUBLIC OPINION, HAS NO FEAR OF THREATS OR BLACKMAILERS.-“THE PUBLIC
BE DAMNED.”—EXPLANATION OF THE RASH EXPRESSION.—THE PURCHASE OF
“NICKEL PLATE.”—HIS DECLINING HEALTH AND LAST DAYS.—HIS WILL AND
WISE METHOD OF DISTRIBUTING 200 MILLIONS.—EFFECTS OF THIS COLOSSAL
FORTUNE ON PUBLIC SENTIMENT.
In treating of the family in the order of descent, I shall now make a
brief survey of the life of William H. Vanderbilt, especially in its
relation to Wall Street affairs and the management of his great railroad
system, the two being closely connected. William H. Vanderbilt was not
much of a speculator in the Wall Street sense of the term. He was more
of an investor than a speculator, and his investments had always a
healthy effect upon the market. Unlike Woerishoffer and others of that
ilk, he built up instead of pulling down values, but was at the same
time careful to avoid the error of inflation. He paid due deference to
public opinion also, in striving to allay its alarm in regard to the
dangerous overgrowth of monopolies. A grand illustration of this was
seen in the sale of the large block of New York Central. His first
experience in railroad matters was in connection with the Staten Island
Railroad, thirteen miles in length. The road had been mismanaged and was
deeply in debt, and became bankrupt. As he and his father had
considerable interest in the road William H. was appointed receiver. It
seems this was done secretly at the suggestion of the Commodore, who
wanted to discover by this experiment if his son had any capacity for
railroad management. The receivership of the Staten Island road was
crowned with signal success. In two years the entire indebtedness of the
road was paid, and the stock, which had been worthless, rose to 175.
William H. Vanderbilt was then elected President of the road. It was at
this time, it is said, that the Commodore began to correct his judgment
regarding the “executive ability of William H.,” and the latter relaxed
no effort to please his exacting father in everything, taking all his
abuse without complaint or anger. After the Commodore secured control of
the Harlem road, which was his first great railroad venture, he made
William H. Vice-President. As a co-worker with his father the latter
further demonstrated his capacity for railroad management, and Harlem
stock, which had been down to nearly nothing, in a few years became one
of the most valuable railroad properties in the country. So, it is a
fact, although not generally known, that William H. Vanderbilt had
proved himself to be a competent railroad manager before his eminent
father had fairly begun that line of business. It was almost entirely
owing to his individual exertions and sound judgment that, in a few
years, the Harlem road was double-tracked, and such other improvements
made as sent the stock from 8 or 9 to above par. The Commodore was so
highly pleased and agreeably surprised with his son’s management of the
Harlem road that he made him Vice-President of the Hudson River Railroad
also, and at a later date associated him in the same capacity with the
management of the important consolidation of New York Central & Hudson
River. The great executive power of William H. was manifested in every
successive movement which his father directed, and unparalleled
prosperity was the result in every instance. After William H. was fully
installed in the Vice-Presidency of the consolidated system of the
Vanderbilt railroads he became an indefatigable worker, taxing his
physical and mental powers to their utmost capacity, and it was
doubtless this habit of hard work, persisted in for many years, that
resulted in so sudden and comparatively premature death for a member of
a family famous for its longevity throughout several generations. He
insisted on making himself familiar with the smallest details of every
department, and examined everything personally. He carefully scrutinized
every bill, check and voucher connected with the financial department of
the immense railroad system, and inspected every engine belonging to the
numerous trains of the roads. In addition to this general supervision of
everything that pertained to the railroads, he was in the habit of going
over a large amount of correspondence which the majority of other men
not possessing the hundredth part of his wealth hand over to their
clerks, and he answered a great number of letters with his own hand
which financiers of comparatively moderate means are in the habit of
dictating to their stenographers. When his father died, at the age of
82, in January, 1887, William H. Vanderbilt, then 56 years of age, found
himself the happy possessor of a fortune variously estimated at from 75
to 90 million dollars. The remainder of the Commodore’s bequests
amounted to 15 millions.
After the death of his father the executive powers of Wm. H. Vanderbilt,
in the management of the vast railroad interests bequeathed to him, were
called into active play. The great strike of 1877 among the railroad
employes threatened to paralyze business all over the country, and came
pretty near causing a social revolution. In this emergency a cool head
and prudent judgment were valuable attributes to a railroad manager. Mr.
Vanderbilt proved that he possessed both in more than an ordinary
degree. Just prior to encountering the knotty problem of the strike he
had been highly instrumental in bringing about suspension of hostilities
in the freight war, and the course which he advised led to an
arrangement that produced harmony among the trunk lines for a
considerable period. As a consequence of the rate war the railroad
companies were obliged to cut down the wages of their employes, and this
was the chief element in causing the strike. There were 12,000 men in
the employ of the New York Central and Harlem. Their wages had been
reduced ten per cent. and they had threatened to annihilate the Grand
Central Depot. Instead of making application to have the militia called
out, as had been done in Pennsylvania, Mr. Vanderbilt—although a man
possessed of far more than ordinary courage—with keen foresight proposed
a kindly compromise with his employes. He telegraphed from Saratoga to
his head officials an order to distribute $100,000 among his striking
employes and promising them a restoration of the ten per cent. reduction
as soon as business improved to a point justifying such an advance. This
prompt and prudent action had the desired effect, and the consequence
was that while there was a small insurrection in Pittsburgh, and bloody
war to the knife, at great cost to Allegheny County, calmness reigned in
the prominent railroad circles of New York, and the taxpayers escaped
the burden that might otherwise have been put upon their shoulders, and
the demoralizing effects of violence and bloodshed were prevented. Over
11,500 of the 12,000 men returned to work, thus showing their gratitude
to Mr. Vanderbilt and faith in his promise, which was afterwards duly
fulfilled. The policy of Wm. H., in the management of his great railroad
system, unlike that of his father, was entirely pacific in its
character. He was disposed to settle all misunderstandings by reason and
arbitration, and had no inclination for fighting and conquest, after the
manner of the Commodore. Although a very close calculator in business
matters, a habit to which he adhered even to the precision of striking
out superfluous items which should not have been charged in his lunch
bill, Mr. Vanderbilt was in many respects generous to a fault. He
compromised the suit with his brother, “Young Corneel,” allowing him the
interest on $1,000,000, whereas his father had only left him the
interest on $200,000, with a forfeiture clause in the event of “Corneel”
contesting the will. Wm. H. also made a present of $500,000 in United
States bonds to each of his sisters, out of his own private fortune. A
good story is related in connection with the distribution of this
handsome gift. Mr. Vanderbilt, it is said, went around one evening in
his carriage, taking the bonds with him and dispensing them to the
fortunate recipients from his own hands. One of his brothers-in-law
having observed by the evening papers that the bond market had declined
a point or two on that day, said, “William, these bonds fall $150 short
of the $500,000, according to the closing prices of this day’s market.”
“All right,” replied Mr. Vanderbilt, with assumed gravity, “I will give
you a check for the balance,” and he wrote and signed it on the spot. It
is related that another brother-in-law followed him to the door, and
said, “If there is to be anything more in this line I hope we shall not
be forgotten.” It is said that these remarkable instances of
ingratitude, instead of irritating him, as they would have in the case
of an ordinary individual, only served to arouse his risible faculties
and that he regarded the exhibitions of human weakness as a good joke.
One of the greatest works of Mr. Vanderbilt’s life was the building of
the beautiful palace on Fifth avenue, between Fifty-first and
Fifty-second streets, which he adorned extensively with paintings
selected from the great masterpieces of the most renowned artists of the
world.
One reason assigned for his disinclination to speculate was that he
regarded the property left by his father in the light of a sacred trust,
and while he considered it a filial duty to look after its increase and
accumulation, he was careful not to do anything that might risk its
dissipation.
Mr. Chauncey Depew, who succeeded to the presidency of the New York
Central & Hudson River Railroad Company, was upon one occasion, while
visiting in London, a guest at a dinner given to the Hon. Wm. E.
Gladstone, then Premier of England, and was honored by a seat on the
left of Mr. Gladstone, with whom he discussed the differences between
American and English railroad and financial management. In the course of
conversation Mr. Gladstone said, “I understand you have a man in your
country who is worth £20,000,000 or $100,000,000, and it is all in
property which he can convert at will into cash. The Government ought to
seize his property and take it away from him, as it is too dangerous a
power for any one man to have. Supposing he should convert his property
into money and lock it up, it would make a panic in America which would
extend to this country and every other part of the world, and be a great
injury to a large number of innocent people.” Mr. Depew admitted that
the gentleman referred to—who was Mr. Vanderbilt—had fully the amount of
money named and more, and in his usual suave and conclusive way,
replied, “But you have, Mr. Gladstone, a man in England who has equally
as large a fortune.”
Mr. Gladstone said, “I suppose you mean the Duke of Westminster. The
Duke of Westminster’s property is not as large as that. I know all about
his property and have kept pace with it for many years past. The Duke’s
property is worth about £10,000,000 or $50,000,000, but it is not in
securities which can be turned into ready cash and thereby absorb the
current money of the country, so that he can make any dangerous use of
it, for it is merely an hereditary right, the enjoyment of it that he
possesses. It is inalienable, and it is so with all great fortunes in
this country, and thus, I think, we are better protected here in England
than you are in America.” “Ah, but like you in England, we in America do
not consider a fortune dangerous,” was the ready response.
The best proof of Wm. H. Vanderbilt’s great ability as a financier is
the marvellous increase in the value of the estate which he inherited
from his father during the seven years which he had the use and control
of it, and in which he did more than treble the value at which it was
estimated on the death of the Commodore.
The weakest financial operation on his part, known to the public, was
the purchase of the Nickel Plate Road, as regards the time of the
transaction, in which he was rather premature. It is now positively
known that if he had waited about a month longer the road would have
gone into bankruptcy and have fallen into his lap on his own terms. In
that case the West Shore would have followed suit.
In such an event I believe Mr. Vanderbilt would have been saved an
immense amount of money, remorse and mental strain, which, no doubt,
aggravated the malady which was the cause of his sudden death. He
realized his error when it was too late, and it was a source of great
mental anxiety to him in his latter days. He was very sensitive, and
nothing afforded him more gratification than a clean and successful
transaction, which drew forth public approval, and in the purchase of
Nickel Plate he was caught napping. It was a mistake for which the
Commodore, had he been alive, could never have forgiven him.
The syndicate that built the road had solely for their object to land it
upon either Gould or Vanderbilt, and it was upon its last legs at the
time it made the transfer to Mr. Vanderbilt. The syndicate laid a trap
for him. It had been coquetting with Mr. Gould in reference to the
purchase, and had made it to appear, through the press and other
channels of plausible rumors, that he had an eye upon the road. Mr.
Gould had occasion to go West about this time and the syndicate invited
him to make his homeward trip over the road, taking particular pains
that all these rumors and reports should reach the ears of Mr.
Vanderbilt, who was impressed with the idea that Mr. Gould’s trip was
one of inspection, with the intention of buying the road if he did not
anticipate him. This was just what the syndicate desired, and the
successful consummation of their financial plot.
The purchase was made solely in the interest of Lake Shore, as it was a
parallel road, and the road was afterwards turned over to the Lake Shore
Company.
The conception of the scheme was to build the road at a nominal price
and sell it to Mr. Vanderbilt as high as possible, and this was duly
accomplished. I am quite satisfied that if this road had not been sold
at this particular time it would then have gone into the hands of a
receiver, while a number of the syndicate, who had built the road, would
have failed, and a general crash would have ensued. This Mr.
Vanderbilt’s purchase averted for the time, and served to prolong the
period of its coming until May, 1884.
For a few years prior to his death Mr. Vanderbilt was in a weak
condition. This cause of mental annoyance came upon him at a time when
he was not robust enough to bear it and had not sufficient strength to
throw it off. He had been seized with a slight paralytic stroke, the
only visible effect of which was a twitching of the lower lip. Shortly
after this he lost the entire sight of one eye, about a year before his
death. This was not generally known to the public, however, and it was
the principal cause of his giving up his favorite pastime of driving,
which was one of his greatest pleasures and the chief source of mental
diversion from the heavy weight of his worldly cares and
responsibilities.
The day after Mr. Vanderbilt’s death I sent the following circular to my
customers:
“As Mr. Wm. H. Vanderbilt was a very important factor in Wall
Street business, I feel it incumbent upon me to issue a letter
to my friends and clients on the subject of his decease,
especially as the loss to the Street is a most important one,
and certainly will be felt for some time to come. Mr. Vanderbilt
undoubtedly, at the time of his death, was the largest holder of
American securities in the world, and had innumerable followers,
who were also vast holders of similar properties as those he
controlled, who acted more or less in concert with him, and who
were at his beck and call. When he told them to buy or sell they
would do so. These parties have now lost a valuable friend and
counsellor, and a leader in whom they believed implicitly. In
such quarters, for some time to come at least, more or less of a
dazed condition will prevail, precisely, the same as would exist
in an army in the event of the general in command having been
killed. Mr. Vanderbilt was a bolder and larger operator than his
father ever dared to be, as he spread out over more interests.
The market has lost an able leader, who was usually a builder-up
of the interests of the entire country, and unlike many other
large operators, who, at times, are on that side, but quite as
frequently on the wrecking side. It will be a long while before
so conspicuous and valiant a leader as Mr. Wm. H. Vanderbilt
will be forthcoming, and the market will, for a protracted
period, have cause to mourn its great loss. It is, indeed,
fortunate that Mr. Vanderbilt lived long enough to see the
completion of the consolidation of the West Shore and New York
Central roads; since both roads are under the able direction of
Mr. Depew, they are now secure from future harm; but the same
cannot be said of the South Pennsylvania enterprise, as
negotiations remain in connection therewith unfinished, which
will suffer by Mr. Vanderbilt’s death, and it will be found
difficult, I fear, for any other man to knit the discordant
elements together that at present exist in that quarter. There
is enough in this for some ground of apprehension, and this
matter may, therefore, disturb the harmony of the great trunk
lines, as this speck of trouble may yet prove a cancer in the
body of the stock market. As it is capable of infusing its
poison elsewhere, beyond where it is at present located, it is
certain that there will be required skillful surgery to prevent
inoculation therefrom.
“The stock market started off to-day as if held by concerted
action, and the appearances indicating that such attitude might
prevail to bridge over the Vanderbilt shock. While prices had a
moderate break, it was scarcely adequate as a fitting tribute of
respect to Mr. Vanderbilt’s memory, as the great General of the
Army of Finance of this country. It was unmistakable, however,
that the large selling was mostly of long stock, coming from
numerous frightened holders who were shaken out, and it was very
evident that the bears were more conspicuous as buyers than as
sellers, to cover their short sales made during the previous
several days. I do not think that the market had, considering
the power it has lost in the death of Mr. Vanderbilt, as much of
a break as should have occurred; still, it must be remembered,
that the dealings have been so enormous during the past month,
which represent the immense number of operators now interested
in the market, that it has taken from it a character which
previously existed as a one man market, and therefore it is
owing to this fact that the removal of any one man, or a half
dozen of them, by death or otherwise, could not bring about, at
the present time, any very wide and lasting disaster to Wall
Street. This market, as I have repeatedly stated, can fairly be
now considered the market for the world, and beyond the
permanent reach of any one man doing it any lasting harm. As Mr.
Vanderbilt invented pegging stocks, and stood his ground when
taken better than any one that will survive him in that plan of
strategic movement, he will, in that particular alone, be
sorrowfully missed. I am of the opinion, now that Mr. Vanderbilt
is no more, that Mr. Gould’s plan of leaving the Street will
undergo a modification, at least by his remaining for some time
longer at the helm. This will prove, in such an event, an
important factor in the future, especially as the bulls of the
Street have for at least a year past recognized Mr. Gould in the
light of a benefactor. To them he has proved a brave and able
leader, and the field is now clear for him to become
commander-in-chief of all the forces, without any one to dispute
his right thereto. This should be enough to fire his ambition
and keep him in our midst, and probably will.”
Among the popular and erroneous impressions entertained
regarding Wm. H. Vanderbilt, the one that he was no judge of
pictures seemed to have taken deep root in the public mind,
except among the few who knew him intimately, and the celebrated
artists whom he visited and from whom he purchased many of the
works of art which adorn his great gallery in Fifth avenue, now
in charge of his youngest son, George. That Mr. Vanderbilt had
an intimate knowledge and correct appreciation of true art has
been amply proved by the highest authority. I am well aware that
some years ago this statement would have been ridiculed by the
majority of the newspapers; but Mr. Vanderbilt never bought a
picture that he did not fully understand in his own simple,
unaffected method of judgment. He may not have been capable of
the highest flights of fancy, necessary to follow the poetic
imagination of the artist to its extreme height, but he was
equal to the task of grasping all the material essentials from a
common-sense point of view.
So far from making any pretence of being a lover of art, he was
in the habit of saying, when a handsome painting was shown him,
“It may be very fine, but until I can appreciate its beauty I
shall not buy it.”
Apropos of his modesty and judgment, in regard to the fidelity
to nature of a picture, a circumstance is related of his visit
to Boucheron, a French picture dealer, where he wanted to see a
painting by Troyon, with the object of buying it. A yoke of oxen
turning from the plough to leave the field is the subject.
Experts in art had taken exception to the manner in which the
cattle left the field. When Mr. Vanderbilt’s opinion was asked,
he said, “I don’t know as much about the quality of the picture
as I do about the truth of the actions of the cattle. I have
seen them act like that hundreds of times.” The artists present
submitted to his judgment, as he knew more about the oxen than
they did. When in France he visited the celebrated Rosa Bonheur,
at Fontainebleau, who was about his own age, and gave her an
order for two pictures, which she painted to his entire
satisfaction. He had his portrait painted by the celebrated
Meissonier, to whom he paid nearly $200,000 for seven pictures.
He purchased in Germany this artist’s masterpiece, “The
Information—General Desaix and the Captured Peasant,” for
$40,000, giving Meissonier, who had not seen it for many years,
a great surprise, and filling the heart of the enthusiastic
artist with unbounded gratitude for rescuing the picture from
Germany and bringing it to America.
Mr. Vanderbilt’s taste for music, especially operatic music, was
refined, and he had a keen sense of the humorous.
Neither Mr. Vanderbilt nor any of his family ever displayed any
anxiety to hobnob with those people who are known as the leaders
of society, although possessed of more wealth than the greatest
of them. The celebrated fancy dress ball, given by Mrs. Wm. K.
Vanderbilt, at the suggestion of Lady Mandeville, in March,
1883, seemed to have the effect of levelling up among the social
ranks of upper-tendom, and placing the Vanderbilts at the top of
the heap, in what is recognized as good society in New York. So
far as cost, richness of costume and newspaper celebrity were
concerned, that ball had, perhaps, no equal in history. It may
not have been quite so expensive as the feast of Alexander the
Great at Babylon, some of the entertainments of Cleopatra to
Augustus and Mark Antony, or a few of the magnificent banquets
of Louis XIV., but when viewed from every essential standpoint,
and taking into account our advanced civilization, I have no
hesitation in saying that the Vanderbilt ball was superior to
any of those grand historic displays of festivity and amusement
referred to, and more especially as the pleasure was not cloyed
with any excesses like those prevalent with the ancient nobility
of the old world and frequently exhibited among the modern “salt
of the earth” in the mother country. The ball had the effect of
drawing the Astors and the Vanderbilts into social union. The
_entente cordiale_ was brought about in this way, as the story
goes:
Several weeks before the ball Miss Carrie Astor, daughter of
Mrs. William Astor, organized a fancy dress quadrille, to be
danced at the ball. Mrs. Vanderbilt, it seems, heard of this and
said, in the hearing of some friends, that she was sorry Miss
Astor was putting herself to so much trouble, as she could not
invite her to the ball, for the reason that Mrs. Astor had never
called on her. This was carried to Mrs. Astor, who immediately
unbent her stateliness, called on Mrs. Vanderbilt, and in a very
ladylike manner made the _amende honorable_ for her former
neglect. So the Astors were cordially invited to the ball, where
Miss Astor presented a superb appearance with her well trained
quadrille.
All Mr. Vanderbilt’s other attachments vanished in presence of
his love for his horses. When any company, of which he formed a
part, began to talk horse his tongue was immediately loosened
and he became eloquent. Although generally a man of few words
and diffident as a talker, he could throw the eloquence of
Chauncey M. Depew in the shade when the subject was horse. He
not alone admired the speed of his horses; he seemed possessed
of the fondness of an Arabian for them, and, like old John
Harper of Kentucky, would probably have slept with them only
through fear of the newspapers criticising his eccentricity. It
was he who introduced the custom of fast driving teams, first
with Small Hopes, purchased by his father, and Lady Mac,
purchased by himself. With this team, in a top road wagon, he
made the then remarkable time of 2.23¼.
A host of rivals immediately sprang up, of whom Mr. Frank Work
was the most formidable. Mr. Vanderbilt procured faster teams,
and with Aldine and Early Rose, under the spur of competition,
reduced the time to 2.16½. Mr. Work, however, was a daring and
persistent rival, and soon beat this record, although only by a
fraction of a minute, which in trotting or racing counts just
the same as if it were an hour. Mr. Vanderbilt then purchased
the famous Maud S. in Kentucky for $21,000, and with her and
Aldine made the mile in Fleetwood Park in June, 1883, in 2.15½.
He afterwards reduced this time to 2.08¾, leaving Mr. Work and
all other rivals hopelessly in the distance. Eventually he sold
Maud S. to Mr. Robert Bonner for the comparatively small amount
of $40,000, on condition that she should never be trotted for
money. Other men would have given $100,000 for her without this
condition.
On the 12th of August, this year, Murphy, the famous jockey,
drove Maud S. in single harness, at Tarrytown, a mile in 2.10½,
and declared he did not push her. He said he was confident he
could make her do the mile in 2.06 or 2.07 if Mr. Bonner would
permit him, thus smashing all trotting records.
It has been said by experts in driving that Mr. Vanderbilt was
the best double-team driver in America, either amateur or
professional.
Mr. Vanderbilt’s bequests were liberal and numerous. He added
$300,000 to the million which his father gave, through the wife
of the Commodore and Dr. Deems, to the Nashville University. He
gave half a million to the College of Physicians and Surgeons,
and his sister, Mrs. Sloane, added a quarter of a million to
this generous donation. It cost him over $100,000 to remove
Cleopatra’s Needle from Egypt to Central Park. He offered to
cancel the $150,000 check which he gave to General Grant to
relieve him from the Ward-Fish embarrassment, and his munificent
gift to the waiter students in the White Mountains will long be
remembered.
Although Mr. Vanderbilt was very courageous, as was proved by
the fact that no matter how many threatening letters he may have
received—and their name was legion—from cranks, socialists and
others, he never made any change in his programme or his routine
of business for the day, and never absented himself from the
place where he was expected at any particular hour on account of
such letters. Yet he was peculiarly sensitive to public opinion,
and sought in various ways to correct its hasty judgment in
regard to himself and his enormous wealth.
It was this sensitive feeling, together with his profound
respect for popular opinion against monopolies, which induced
him to sell a controlling interest, 300,000 shares out of
400,000, at from 120 to 130, ten points below the market price,
of New York Central stock in 1879 to a syndicate, the chief
members of which were Drexel, Morgan & Co., Morton, Bliss & Co.,
August Belmont & Co., Winslow, Lanier & Co., L. Von Hoffman &
Co, Cyrus W. Field, Edwin D. Morgan, Russell Sage, Jay Gould and
J. S. Morgan & Co. of London. The amount paid for the stock was
$35,000,000. As the syndicate largely represented the Wabash
system, the stock of that property, as well as New York Central,
had an important advance.
The reasons assigned for this stupendous and unprecedented stock
transaction are briefly condensed by Mr. Chauncey M. Depew as
follows: “Mr. Vanderbilt, because of assaults made upon him in
the Legislature and in the newspapers, came to the conclusion
that it was a mistake for one individual to own a controlling
interest in a great corporation like the New York Central, and
also a mistake to have so many eggs in one basket, and he
thought it would be better for himself and better for the
company if the ownership were distributed as widely as possible.
The syndicate afterwards sold it, and the stock became one of
the most widely-distributed of the dividend-paying American
securities. There are now about 14,000 stockholders. At the time
he sold there were only 3,000.”
That hasty expression, “The public be damned,” which Mr.
Vanderbilt used in an interview with a reporter for a Chicago
newspaper, has received wide circulation, various comment and
hostile criticism. Although the expression is literally correct,
the public at first, and many of them to this day, received a
wrong impression in regard to the spirit in which it was
applied. It was represented as if Mr. Vanderbilt was a
tyrannical monopolist, who defied public opinion. A true and
simple relation of the interview is a sufficient answer to this.
The subject was the fast mail train to Chicago. Mr. Vanderbilt
was thinking of taking this train off, because it did not pay,
and did not appear to him therefore to be a necessity, and he
did not propose to run trains as a philanthropist. As part of
the interview which relates to this point has become so widely
historic, I think it will bear reproduction here, literally:
“Why are you going to stop this fast mail train?” asked the
reporter.
“Because it doesn’t pay,” replied Mr. Vanderbilt; “I can’t run a
train as far as this permanently at a loss.”
“But the public find it very convenient and useful. You ought to
accommodate them,” rejoined the reporter.
“The public,” said Mr. Vanderbilt. “How do you know, or how can
I know that they want it? If they want it why don’t they
patronize it and make it pay? That’s the only test I have as to
whether a thing is wanted or not. Does it pay? If it doesn’t pay
I suppose it isn’t wanted.”
“Are you working,” persisted the reporter, “for the public or
for your stockholders?”
“The public be damned!” exclaimed Mr. Vanderbilt, “I am working
for my stockholders. If the public want the train why don’t they
support it.”
This, I think, was a very proper answer from a business
standpoint, and the expression, when placed in its real
connection in the interview, does not imply any slur upon the
public. It simply intimates that he was urging a thing on the
public which it did not want and practically refused. The
“cuss” word might have been left out, but the crushing reply
to the reporter would not have been so emphatic, and that
obtrusive representative of public opinion might have gone
away unsquelched. As it was, however, he and his editor
exhibited considerable ingenuity in making the best
misrepresentation possible out of the words of Mr. Vanderbilt,
thus giving them a thousand times wider circulation than the
journal in which they were first printed, and affording that
paper a big advertisement. This is the correct account of that
world-renowned expression, “The public be damned!”
The mausoleum at New Dorp, Staten Island, is another outcome of
the genius of Wm. H. Vanderbilt. Mr. Richard M. Hunt was the
architect. Pursuant to the instructions of Mr. Vanderbilt, it
was built without any fancy work, but at the same time on such a
grand and substantial scale that it is said there is nothing
among the tombs of either European or Oriental royalty to excel
it, in solidity of structure and grandeur of design. It is forty
feet in height, sixty in breadth and about 150 in depth. It is
situated on an eminence commanding the largest prospect of the
bay, and one of the finest views all around in the State of New
York. The tomb and the twenty-one acres of land, upon the
highest part of which it stands, cost nearly half a million
dollars, and when the grounds are finished, in the style
intended, beautiful roads and walks made, flower gardens planted
with the requisite adornments, the entire expense of the
mausoleum and its surroundings will not fall far short of a
million dollars.
The precautions taken by the family against resurrectionists is
one of the best that has ever been adopted. There is a guard at
the tomb night and day. Each of these must put on record his
vigilance every fifteen minutes by winding up a clock, which is
sent to the office at the Grand Central Depot every morning.
In May, 1883, Mr. Vanderbilt, finding that his railroad duties
were too heavy for him, resigned the presidencies of his roads
and took a trip to Europe. James H. Rutter was elected President
of the Central, and on his death was succeeded by Chauncey M.
Depew, the present President, who so ably fills that office.
About a year before his death Mr. Vanderbilt gave unmistakable
notice of his approaching dissolution when he stopped driving
his fast teams, and went out riding with some other person to
drive for him. He must have keenly felt his growing weakness
when he was obliged to resign the reins which he so fondly
desired to hold, and which he had handled with such inimitable
skill.
The death of Mr. Vanderbilt was a great surprise, especially to
Wall Street, as very few brokers were aware even of his failing
health. On the 8th day of December, 1885, he arose early,
apparently no worse in health than he had been for a year
previous. He went to the studio of J. Q. A. Ward and gave that
artist a sitting for the bronze bust ordered by the Trustees of
the College of Physicians and Surgeons. Mr. Depew called upon
him at one o’clock, but finding that Mr. Robert Garrett,
President of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad Company, had also
called to see Mr. Vanderbilt, Mr. Depew waived his opportunity
in favor of Mr. Garrett. Mr. Garrett was conversing on his
project of getting into New York by way of Staten Island and a
bridge over the Arthur Kill. They were in the study. Mr.
Vanderbilt sat in his large arm chair and Mr. Garrett sat on a
sofa opposite to him. It seems that Mr. Vanderbilt was in
perfect harmony with the plans of Mr. Garrett. While he was
replying to the remarks of Mr. Garrett the latter observed that
his voice began to falter and there was a curious twitching of
the muscles about his mouth. Soon he ceased to speak and had a
spasm. In a moment he leaned forward and would have fallen on
his face on the floor, but Mr. Garrett caught him in his arms,
laid him gently on the rug and put a pillow under his head. This
was only the work of a few moments, but before it was
accomplished the greatest millionaire in America had ceased to
breathe. When Dr. McLean, the family physician, arrived he said
a blood vessel had burst in the head, and so death, according to
the frequently expressed wish of Mr. Vanderbilt, was
instantaneous.
On the announcement of Mr. Vanderbilt’s death, (which was after
Board hours), a panic was predicted in the stock market. A pool
was formed of the most wealthy leading operators, with a capital
of $12,000,000, to resist such a calamity. It was not required,
however. There was a reaction of a few points in the morning
following, which was recovered before the close of the market.
The stocks of Mr. Vanderbilt’s properties, as well as the
properties themselves, had been so well distributed that such a
disaster could hardly have occurred without a strong outside
combination to help it, and the prevalent desire there was to
assist speculation in the very opposite direction. The remains
of Mr. Vanderbilt were conveyed to New Dorp and deposited in the
tomb without any ostentation.
In the chapter on the young Vanderbilts a brief account of the
disposition of the mammoth fortune of $200,000,000 is given.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER XXXVI.
“YOUNG CORNEEL.”
THE ECCENTRICITIES OF CORNELIUS JEREMIAH VANDERBILT, AND HIS MARVELLOUS
POWER FOR BORROWING MONEY.—HE EXERCISES WONDERFUL INFLUENCE OVER
GREELEY AND COLFAX.—A DINNER AT THE CLUB WITH YOUNG “CORNEEL” AND
THE “FAMOUS SMILER.”—“CORNEEL TRIES TO MAKE HIMSELF SOLID WITH JAY
COOKE.—THE COMMODORE REFUSES TO PAY GREELEY.-“WHO THE DEVIL ASKED
YOU?” RETORTED GREELEY.-“CORNEEL’S” MARRIAGE TO A CHARMING AND
DEVOTED WOMAN.—HOW SHE SOFTENED THE OBDURATE HEART OF HER
FATHER-IN-LAW.
Cornelius J. Vanderbilt, the brother of Wm. H., popularly known by the
name of “Young Corneel,” is entitled to a place in this book, as he was
prominent among the many financial friends I have had, in his own
peculiar line.
“Corneel” was eccentric, and was possessed of some astonishing
peculiarities that made him a genius in his way. He led a charmed and
adventurous life in his own circles.
He had a wonderful facility for getting into scrapes, and “banked” on
the Commodore to extricate him therefrom, which the latter did on many
occasions. The mere fact, however, that he had such a father, was in
itself sufficient, very often, to get him out of his troubles, without
any effort on the part of the Commodore in that direction. “Corneel,”
however, worked this “racket” for all it was worth, and in time it
became almost exhausted. Still, he went on making new acquaintances
without limit, and to many of them the name of the Commodore was a
sufficient guarantee of security for sundry loans, that were promised to
be paid on the fulfilment of certain expectations which only existed in
the borrower’s imagination.
But it was not very safe for “Corneel” to rely upon his father, or to
bank upon his credit in any case. If he had depended solely on the
paternal security, he would often have found, when in his worst straits,
that he had leaned upon a willow cane for support. “Corneel” had a
peculiar fascination in his ability to catch the ear of prominent men,
who would listen attentively to his tale of woe, and some of them were
so thoroughly under the spell of his persuasive powers that they would
“fork” out the required amount without hesitation, to relieve his
pressing necessities.
It is sad to relate that the money thus sometimes piteously solicited,
and really required to pay a board bill or room rent, was often thrown
away in the first gambling den that the borrower happened to be passing,
while the landlady and the washerwoman would be obliged to extend their
bills of credit indefinitely.
Amongst the special friends upon whom he was in the habit of exercising
his alluring magnetism were the Hon. Schuyler Colfax and Horace Greeley.
Over both of these eminent gentlemen he seemed to have perfect control.
So hopelessly were they under the charm of his occult power that they
seldom said “no” to any request that he made, especially when he wanted
to borrow money. No sorcerer ever had his helpless victims more
completely at his mercy, nor had greater power by the touch of his
mysterious wand, than “Corneel” had over these and certain other men,
when he would entertain them with a list of imaginary wrongs which he
had suffered at the hands of his father and brother. In their ears this
story never seemed to become stale, though it was the same old story
every time, with hardly any attempt at variation. To them and others,
over whom he exercised this unaccountable influence, the thing did not
seem to become monotonous like other twice-told tales, related by
ordinary people.
To the man of average intellect and common business capacity “Corneel”
was a shocking “bore” and a victim of morbid melancholia, but these men
of genius were won by the impression which he had made upon them, and
thoroughly imbued with the deepest sympathy for the wrongs which his
strange hallucinations conjured up. Unlike most men who borrow money
from friends and don’t pay, instead of exhausting his credit by this
business delinquency, he made it the basis for increasing it, and it
generally seemed to be a potent means of enabling him to borrow more.
Hence his obligations to Mr. Greeley were persistently cumulative until
they exceeded $50,000.
I have been told by a person familiarly acquainted with him that years
after Greeley’s death he would sometimes sit in deep meditation, with
the tears welling up in his eyes, especially when in a great financial
strait, and sighingly say: “When Mr. Greeley died I lost the best friend
in the world.” Be it said to his credit, however, in spite of all his
shortcomings, he exhibited his honesty by paying every cent of the debt,
with interest, to Mr. Greeley’s daughters. He also paid the greater part
of all the other debts which he had contracted under similar
circumstances, after making a settlement with Wm. H. and receiving a
much larger amount than he had been left by the will of his father, who
bequeathed him merely a decent competence for his rank and station in
life, without any surplus for the policy shops and faro banks.
One of the qualities possessed by “Corneel” in a remarkable degree, and
which enabled him to be so successful a borrower, was his extreme
earnestness. He bent his whole energies to the work in hand, and his
requests usually met with ready response. If he had put the same energy
and intense enthusiasm into legitimate speculation, he would have been
as successful as his father or Jay Gould. He must have been an intuitive
judge of character, for he showed that he generally knew his man in
advance of making application for sundry little loans. In that respect
he was not unlike the famous huntsman who was a dead shot every time.
My first acquaintance with “Corneel” was through one of his special
friends, the Hon. Schuyler Colfax, whom he brought to my office for the
purpose of having himself introduced by Mr. Colfax. He informed me that
he had just then returned from Hartford, Conn., where he had taken his
friend, Mr. Colfax, for a week’s visit at his house. It can be readily
imagined, therefore, that at this time Mr. Colfax had but little control
over his own bank account and for a long time afterwards.
I invited both these gentlemen to dinner at the Club that afternoon.
Although Mr. Colfax was an extraordinarily good talker, he was left far
in the distance and almost silenced by “Corneel.” Most of what the
latter said, however, had very little in it of a tangible character, and
was almost entirely made up of unstinted praise of his friend Colfax. If
ever there was a man talked up to the skies, or if the thing were
possible, Colfax must have been literally in that elevated position
during our dinner.
There was no let-up to the unqualified adulation, yet I must say that
there was none of the uninterrupted stream of fulsome flattery fell to
the ground. Schuyler took it all in as he did his viands, and as if it
were legitimately his due, a proof positive that “Young Corneel” was not
mistaken in his man; and a further demonstration of his natural sagacity
in striking the man upon whom he could successfully exercise his
peculiar charms of persuasion.
When he got tired talking about Mr. Colfax, the object of his next theme
was Mr. Greeley, on whom he was profusely prolific.
I met Mr. Greeley frequently afterwards, and told him what a good friend
he had in young Cornelius Vanderbilt. “Yes,” he said, with a knowing
smile, “I think he is a good friend of mine. I have heard of his
frequently saying nice things about me. It is a great pity, however,” he
added significantly, “that he is so frequently short of funds. If he had
more money he would be a very good fellow.”
It was generally in the way above referred that he would steal a march
on Mr. Greeley and impose on his good nature. He would say nice things
about him to some one who would quote him to Mr. Greeley, and thus pave
the way for an additional loan. In a few days afterward “Corneel” would
call on his tried and trusty friend, and never fail to obtain the needed
relief, or a large portion of it.
“Corneel” had great tact in utilizing his various advantages for
borrowing, and was imbued with a thorough devotion to his object, worthy
of a better cause. The day following his first visit to my office, he
called again and told me that his friend Colfax had left by the early
train for Washington and had urged him to go along, but as he had some
matters to attend to he had postponed his departure until the night
train.
He said to me, “By-the-bye, you know Jay Cooke very well.”
I said, “Yes.”
Then he replied, “I have some matters to look after in connection with
the Treasury Department, and I think he could be of some service to me.
Will you be good enough to oblige me with a letter of introduction to
him? I may not need it,” he added with a business air of _sang froid_,
“but I should like to have it in case of need.”
I wrote him a brief and non-committal introduction, somewhat as follows:
“This will introduce to you Mr. Cornelius Vanderbilt, Jr., son
of the Commodore. I take the liberty of making you acquainted
with him through this medium, at his own request.
“Truly yours, HENRY CLEWS.”
There was certainly nothing on the face of this document, except the
Commodore’s name, to justify any person in utilizing it as a bill of
credit.
Yet the financial genius of “Young Corneel” was equal to the task of an
indirect negotiation of this character, and after the lapse of a few
days his drafts from Jay Cooke began to pour into my office like April
showers. None of them was very large, but when put together they
aggregated a pretty fair amount, and were so cumulative in their
character that, had I not wired Mr. Cooke to stop the supplies, it is
difficult to say what figure the sum total would have reached.
The last time I saw “Young Corneel” was at Long Branch, where he took a
drive with me one fine warm afternoon. He spoke feelingly about his
wasted life, and concerning the many good friends who had come so often
to his rescue, and had got him out of his numerous holes, into which,
through misfortune, he had been thrown. He said all there was of life
for him was to live long enough to pay up old scores. He had fully
determined to do this, and then, he thought, a prolongation of existence
would have no further charms for him. It must be said to his credit that
he accomplished this work, and then laying himself sadly down, died by
his own hand.
Let us, therefore, throw the mantle of charity over that tragic scene in
the Glenham Hotel, and hope that his soul may elsewhere have found the
rest which in its poor, afflicted body it vainly sought for here.
That portion of the Commodore’s will in which he makes provision for
Cornelius J. is thoroughly characteristic of the old man, in its
iron-clad provisions. It says: “I direct that $200,000 be set apart, the
interest thereof to be applied to the maintenance and support of my son,
Cornelius J. Vanderbilt, during his natural life. And I authorize said
trustees, in their discretion, instead of themselves making the
application of said interest money to his support, to pay over from time
to time, to my said son, for his support, such portions as they may deem
advisable, or the whole of the interest of said bonds. But no part of
the interest is to be paid to any assignee of my said son, or to any
creditor who may seek by legal proceedings to obtain the same; and in
case my said son should make any transfer or assignment of is beneficial
interest in said bonds or the interest thereof, or encumber the same, or
attempt so to do, the said interest of said bonds shall thereupon cease
to be applicable to his use, and shall thenceforth, during the residue
of his natural life, belong to my residuary legatee. Upon the decease of
my said son, Cornelius J., I give and bequeath the last mentioned
$200,000 of bonds to my residuary legatee.”
Though a portion of this provision is rather whimsical, yet it was ably
designed to force “Corneel” to desist from his besetting sin, the gaming
table.
If the trustees were permitted to pay him the whole of the interest at
whatever period they should choose, it seems harsh that the beneficiary
should forfeit it entirely, if he should seek to relieve present and
pressing necessities, by borrowing on his future income. It showed that
the Commodore, even at the hour of his death, thought that “Corneel” was
not fit to be treated otherwise than as a child, and that it was
necessary he should be kept under the guardianship of his brother.
This circumstance hurt “Corneel’s” feelings greatly, as he imagined
himself a bigger man, mentally, than Wm. H. This opinion, however, no
other man could conscientiously endorse, except it might have been
Greeley or Colfax.
“Corneel,” though always exclaiming against the old man’s
hard-heartedness, had an intense admiration for his father’s abilities,
and he was as sensitive as a sunflower when any other person would say a
word to disparage the Commodore. While railing constantly at the
parsimony of his father, he was as devoted a hero-worshipper of the
Commodore as Thomas Carlyle ever was of the greatest of his heroes, and
he never grew tired talking of his achievements, with the history of
which he was thoroughly familiar. He had even a more intense hatred
against Gould than his father had, and solemnly believed that Gould and
Fisk had, during the manipulation of the Erie “corner,” conspired to
assassinate the Commodore.
Of course this was one of his many hallucinations, and there was not the
least ground for it, but he had got it indelibly on the brain, and he
would not tolerate contradiction in that notion any more than in any
other opinion which he had got fixed in his morbid mind. He once went
into an epileptic fit in the presence of a friend of mine who attempted
to reason with him on the improbability of such a man as Gould
contemplating murder.
He never forgave his father for having him arrested and incarcerated in
Bloomingdale Lunatic Asylum. He had run off to California the time of
the gold fever, and shipped as a sailor. He was then in his eighteenth
year. When he returned, which was pretty soon, as he had no ability to
enter into the terrible mental and physical struggle for wealth on the
gold coast, his father had him arrested. It was soon discovered that he
was no lunatic, however eccentric he might be, and he was released, but
he took the matter dreadfully to heart, and it had a melancholy and
demoralizing effect upon all his future life. He was petulant, and still
complaining, and often acted like a crazy man in that the more any of
his intimate friends tried to please him he seemed the more
dissatisfied; yet it was impossible to get along with him without
humoring him, and it was almost next to impossible to humor him. In this
way he could work on the minds of the strongest of his friends, so as
almost to put them into a fit as bad as one of his own.
Dr. Swazy’s patience was often put to a very severe test in his attempt
to please this eccentric invalid.
“Corneel” was a miser everywhere except at the gaming table, and would
cling to a cent with greater tenacity than ordinary people display in
holding on to a ten-dollar bill. But among the gamblers either a
ten-dollar bill or a hundred-dollar bill was less valuable in his eyes
than a cent in the common transactions of every day life. “Faro” and
“keno” had terrific power over him. He has often been known to have had
an epileptic fit at the gaming-table, get a doze afterwards which seemed
like the sleep of death, so cadaverous did he look on those occasions,
and then awake up and go on with the play, whose fascination he appeared
utterly powerless to resist.
When it came to the ears of the Commodore that Greeley was lending his
son hundreds and sometimes thousands of dollars at a time, he visited
the office of the _Tribune_. He rushed without ceremony into the
sanctum, where Greeley was busy at his high desk, grinding out a tirade
against some political or social abuse, and thus addressed the Sage of
Chappaqua: “Greeley, I hear yer lendin’ ‘Corneel’ money.” “Yes,” said
Greeley, eyeing the monarch of steamboat men through his glasses, with
an air of philosophic contempt mixed with commiseration; “I have let him
have some.” “I give you fair warning,” replied the Commodore, “that you
need not look to me; I won’t pay you.” “Who the devil asked you?”
retorted Greeley. “Have I?”
This closed the interview. The Commodore retraced his steps down the
rickety stairs into Spruce street, and Greeley continued to grind out
his illegible chirography for the profane printers. There is no record,
I believe, that the subject was ever reverted to between them. Soon
after the death of Greeley the Commodore sent a check for $10,000 each
to his two daughters.
The Commodore was well satisfied with the marriage of young “Corneel” to
Miss Williams, of Hartford, Connecticut, and he had hoped that his son
would begin then to lead a new life, but he was doomed to
disappointment.
There is a good story told about an interview between the Commodore and
Mr. Williams prior to the marriage.
Mr. Williams called upon the Commodore at his office in Fourth street,
near Broadway, and informed him that his son, Cornelius Jeremiah, had
asked his daughter in marriage, and she was willing if the Commodore had
no objection to the union.
“Has your daughter plenty of silk dresses?” asked the Commodore,
sententiously.
“Well,” replied Mr. Williams, showing some sensitiveness at what he at
first considered assumption of superiority and purse-pride on the part
of the Commodore, “my daughter, as I told you, is not wealthy. She has a
few dresses like other young ladies in her station, but her wardrobe is
not very extensive nor costly.”
“Has your daughter plenty of jewelry?” continued the Commodore, without
appearing to take much notice of Mr. Williams’ explanation.
“No, sir,” replied Mr. Williams, becoming slightly nettled, and showing
a laudable pride in opposition to what he considered a slur on account
of his moderate means, “I have attempted to explain to you that I am in
comparatively humble circumstances, and my daughter cannot afford
jewelry.”
“The reason I ask you,” pursued the Commodore, “is, that if she did
possess these articles of value, my son would take them and either pawn
or sell them, and throw away the proceeds at the gaming table. So I
forewarn you and your daughter that I can’t take any responsibility in
this matter.”
The nuptials were duly consummated, however, in spite of the Commodore’s
constructive remonstrance.
After the marriage “Corneel” asked his father for some money to build a
house. “No, Corneel,” he said emphatically, “you have got to show that
you can be trusted before I trust you.”
His wife made application to her father-in-law with better success,
however. He gave her a check for $10,000. In a few months afterward she
paid another visit to the Commodore, who received her cordially, but
expected she had come for another loan, and he was attempting to work up
his courage to the point of refusal; for, strong and almost invincibly
obdurate as he was in the general affairs of life, in the presence of
the fair sex, like Samson when he got his hair cut, he was weak and like
another man.
“Well,” said the Commodore, addressing his daughter-in-law with a kindly
smile, “what can I do for you now?”
“Well, papa,” she replied in her exceedingly candid and agreeable
manner, “we did not need all the money, so I brought you back $1,500.”
The Commodore could hardly believe his ears and eyes, and thought for a
moment that he must be under some mysterious delusion, superinduced by
the spiritual seances which he then was in the habit of attending. But
when the cash was put in his hand he found it was a material reality.
This sealed a warm friendship between him and his worthy and economical
daughter-in-law, which was only severed by her premature death about ten
years before that of her unfortunate husband.
The sympathy that some people manifested for “Young Corneel” was, like
his own maladies, of the most morbid or delusive character. He had $200
a week from his father all the time that he was whining to the public
about his pinching poverty and denouncing the old man’s niggardliness.
This would have been ample, with fair economy, not only for all the
necessaries of life, but, under judicious management, would have
afforded the recipient many of its luxuries.
With his irresistible propensity for gambling, he would not have been
any better off physically, but worse, with the entire income from his
father’s 75 or 100 millions. The only difference that should have arisen
was that he would have been instrumental in carrying out in part the
socialistic and communistic idea of a wider distribution of private
property, amassed by thrift, privation and industry, among the drones,
lazy “loafers” and criminals of society.
The Commodore’s judgment, therefore, in limiting his prodigal son to
$200 a week, was not only comprehensive, but beneficent in its results
both to his son and to society at large.
[Illustration:
_C. Vanderbilt._
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER XXXVII.
THE YOUNG VANDERBILTS AND THEIR FORTUNES.
REMARKABLE FOR PHYSICAL AND INTELLECTUAL ABILITY.—THE MIXTURE OF RACES
AND THE LAW OF SELECTION.—THE WONDERFUL WILL AND THE WISE
DISTRIBUTION OF TWO HUNDRED MILLIONS.—TASTES, HABITS AND SOCIAL
PROCLIVITIES OF THE YOUNG VANDERBILTS.—THE MARRIED RELATIONS OF SOME
OF THEM.—BEING HAPPILY ASSORTED THEY MAKE GOOD HUSBANDS.—THEIR
PROPERTY REGARDED AS A GREAT TRUST.—THEIR RAILROAD SYSTEM AND ITS
GREAT ARMY OF EMPLOYES.—THE YOUNG MEN CAUTIOUS ABOUT SPECULATING,
AND CONSERVATIVE IN THEIR EXPENSES GENERALLY.
The young Vanderbilts who have succeeded to the estate of their father,
William H., are all remarkable for both intellectual and physical power,
as well as a high degree of refinement, showing how fast human evolution
under favorable circumstances progresses in this country. In other
countries it takes many generations to develop such men as the present
Vanderbilts. In this country three generations in this instance have
produced some of the best samples of nature’s nobility, which is
superior in every respect to the proud and vain-glorious production
which emanates from the succession of “a hundred earls” in England, or
even a greater number of barons, princes and kings on the Continent of
Europe. It would be difficult to produce better types of men in the
short period named than Cornelius, William K., Frederick and George
Vanderbilt, in personal appearance, breeding and culture.
The mixture and amalgamation of races from all parts of the world have
doubtless had a great deal to do with such favorable results in the
reproduction of our species in the United States. In the old country
close intermarriages seem to have a deteriorating effect on the race,
with probably the one apparent exception, namely, the house of
Rothschild, and a little longer time may tell that the rule of
deterioration holds good in this case also.
The four sons of William H. Vanderbilt have had the greatest start in
life of any family in all the records of history, ancient and modern,
with the single exception, probably, of the five Rothschild brothers,
the sons of old Anselm, and they had not near so much money to begin
with, but had the advantage of the Vanderbilts in their locations and in
their methods of combination. These methods, as I have observed
elsewhere, could only be attained through the Hebrew religion. By the
provisions of the remarkable will, which revealed such enormous wealth
as to make almost every other millionaire feel comparatively poor, the
greater portion of 200 million dollars was divided among the eight
children of the testator. Millions were distributed in this case as
other millionaires have been in the habit of dealing with thousands. The
ordinary human mind fails to grasp the idea of such a vast amount of
wealth. If converted into gold it would have weighed 500 tons, and it
would have taken 500 strong horses to draw it from the Grand Central
Depot to the Sub-Treasury in Wall Street. If it had been all in gold or
silver dollars, or even in greenbacks, it would have taken Vanderbilt
himself, working eight hours a day, over thirty years to count it. If
the first of the Vanderbilts had been a contemporary of old Adam,
according to the Mosaic account, and had then started as president of a
railroad through Palestine, with a salary of $30,000 a year, saving all
this money and living on perquisites, the situation being continued in
the male line to the present day, the sum total of all the family
savings thus accumulated would not amount to the fortune left by Wm. H.
Vanderbilt, unless this original $30,000 had been placed at compound
interest, and that in a bank from which young Napoleons of finance had
been strictly excluded.
[Illustration:
_W K Vanderbilt_
]
The will itself affords one of the best tests on record of the sound
judgment and equitable mind of the testator. He was under filial
obligations to a certain extent to revere the memory and respect the
opinions of the father through whom he had acquired the means of
accumulating this wonderful fortune.
The Commodore had modified ideas of primogeniture, not exactly in the
English sense of the term, but he had an intense desire to perpetuate
his name and wealth, and would doubtless have advised William H., and
perhaps he did, to bequeath nearly all his possessions to one of his
sons, leaving the rest of the family a bare independence.
Wm. H., in accordance with his sensitive disposition, upright mind, and
a due respect for the feelings, opinions and even the prejudices of
others, resolved to make what public opinion would be likely to consider
an approximately fair division of his immense estate. In this attempt, I
think he succeeded pretty well, considering all the circumstances and
difficulties with which he had to grapple. A synopsis of the will
itself, however, herewith inserted, will enable the public to be the
best judge of the equity of the case.
In the first place Mr. Vanderbilt devised to his wife the palatial
residence, which cost two millions, situated between 51st and 52d
streets on Fifth avenue, the stables on Madison avenue, the paintings
and statuary, and an annuity of $200,000 per annum. He also empowered
her to dispose of, by will, in any way she might desire, $500,000 out of
the sum set apart to produce her annuity of $200,000.
He bequeathed to each of his four daughters, Mrs. Elliott F. Shepard,
Mrs. William Sloane, Mrs. Hamilton McK. Twombly and Mrs. William Seward
Webb, an elegant house on Fifth avenue in the vicinity of his own
mansion. He then devised 40 million dollars’ worth of securities, 25
millions of which were in United States bonds, to be divided by the
trustees equally among his eight children, five millions each. Next he
bequeathed 40 millions more in securities, ten millions of which were in
United States bonds, and the balance in securities of his own railroads,
to his eight children, share and share alike.
He gave to his son Cornelius two million dollars in addition to all
other bequests made to him.
George W., his youngest son, is to receive at the death of his mother
all that she possessed during her natural life, and if he should die
without issue his inheritance shall go to Wm. H., the son of Cornelius,
but in the event of this contingency not occurring, the grandson, Wm.
H., is to receive a million on attaining the age of 30.
Then followed a host of small legacies to relatives, friends and
employes. He left $2,000 a year to each of his uncle Jacob’s three
children.
He gave $200,000 to the Vanderbilt University of Nashville, Tenn.,
founded by his father; and he left about a million in the aggregate to
twelve charitable and religious institutions.
The twenty-second clause of the will is the most important, especially
to his two eldest sons. It reads as follows:
“All the rest, residue and remainder of all the property and estate,
real, personal and mixed, of every description and wheresoever situated,
of which I may be seized or possessed, or to which I may be entitled at
the time of my decease, I give, devise and bequeath unto my two sons,
Cornelius Vanderbilt and William K. Vanderbilt, in equal shares, and to
their heirs and assigns, to their use forever.”
Mrs. Vanderbilt was appointed executrix and her four sons executors of
the will. The witnesses were Judge Charles A. Rapallo, Samuel F. Barger,
C. C. Clarke and I. P. Chambers.
This remainder, left to his two sons named in the clause cited, amounted
to about 50 million dollars each, in addition to their other bequests,
thus leaving each of them nearly as wealthy as their grandfather was
when he died. Cornelius is said to be worth over 80 million dollars.
Cornelius is the oldest son. He is a year or two over forty. He received
a good education, and had an excellent business training in his father’s
offices at the Grand Central Depot. He has always been remarkable for
strict attention to business, and for his thorough familiarity with
everything connected with his own department, as well as having a good
general knowledge of all the departments of the great railroad system.
When his father retired from active work, and the presidency of the
roads, Cornelius succeeded him as Chairman of the Board of Directors in
New York Central and Michigan Central.
Wm. K. took a similar position in Lake Shore, and was also elected
President of New York, Chicago & St. Louis, generally called the Nickel
Plate road.
Cornelius was married about fourteen years ago to Miss Alice Gwinn, a
handsome young lady of Cincinnati, and has four children. He resides in
an elegant house, at the corner of Fifty-seventh street and Fifth
Avenue, and has a handsome summer residence, “The Breakers,” at Newport.
He is connected, as an active worker, with various charitable and
religious institutions, and is very favorably known and highly respected
in the best social circles. He is gaining a great reputation through
various donations to laudable objects. Among these may be mentioned the
Club House in the vicinity of the Grand Central Depot, for the
accommodation of employes of the various railroads connected with the
Vanderbilt system. Also his magnificent gift to the Metropolitan Museum
of Art, the celebrated picture of Rosa Bonheur, “The Horse Fair,” which
is valued at $60,000. In this he surpassed the most liberal efforts of
Mr. George I. Seney, in one of his grand specialties, namely,
contributions to Art.
William Kissam Vanderbilt, the second son of Wm. H., also received a
fair education, and graduated in business in the Transportation
Department of his father’s great railroad system, where he exhibited
marked ability in mastering all the essentials, and in doing his work
with rapidity and accuracy. He is considered the most handsome and the
most imposing in appearance of any of the family, although, as I have
intimated at the beginning of this chapter, they are all above the
average in regard to the manly and gentlemanly virtues, owing to what
Darwin would have designated the “natural law of selection.” Wm. K. has
a grand mansion, on the corner of Fifty-second street and Fifth Avenue,
and a country residence at Islip, Long Island, where he usually summers.
He is about thirty-eight years of age. He is married to Miss Alva Smith,
the daughter of a wealthy merchant of Savannah. She is a leading lady in
society, considerably above the average in good looks, and possessed of
rare conversational powers, with an ample fund of wit and humor. They
have three children.
Frederick W. Vanderbilt, the third son of the late millionaire, seemed
to have had a greater desire for study than the two former, hence after
going through the ordinary course for boys at home, he went to Yale,
where he graduated in the Sheffield Scientific School. Thus equipped he
went into his father’s office, and made himself thoroughly acquainted
with the general routine of the whole business, in every department.
He married Mrs. Torrance, formerly the wife of his cousin. Young
Vanderbilt fell in love with her and married her in a year afterward.
She is an exceedingly attractive woman, and the union is a very happy
one. Mr. Vanderbilt gave Frederick the house at Fortieth street and
Fifth Avenue, in which he himself had resided prior to his removal to
the Fifth Avenue palace. This house was built by the old Commodore for
his son W. H. It was considered to be the finest residence in the city
at the time of its completion.
[Illustration:
_F. W. Vanderbilt._
]
George W. Vanderbilt, the youngest of the four sons, is now about 25
years of age. He is not so robust as the others, but enjoys pretty good
health. He manifested a decided tendency at an early age for study and
reading.
He is said to be extensively read in literature for his age, and has
written some essays on various subjects, which give considerable promise
of success with perseverance in that line. He is a lover of the
fine-arts, knows the history of all the pictures in the great gallery
which his father collected, and like that revered parent, whose constant
companion he was during the last few years of his life, he is very fond
of the opera. His grandfather, the Commodore, left him a million
dollars, to which his father added another million on his twenty-first
birthday.
George W. has recently made a handsome present to the Bond street free
public library, donating thereto $40,000 to build a branch of that
institution at 251 West Thirteenth street. He bids fair to be a liberal
patron of letters, and no doubt his gifts in this way will be prudently
directed and made with good judgment. The man who can appreciate
learning, as George Vanderbilt has proved he can, will never be likely
to leave the terms of an endowment to a public library, for instance,
which he intended for the benefit of the whole community, so loose that
a clique of trustees can restrict all its privileges to a limited number
of ladies and gentlemen of leisure, by narrowing the hours of keeping
the institution open, as has been done with those two fine libraries
intended by the donors for the people at large, namely, the Astor and
the Lenox.
New York is comparatively poor in its libraries, even on the supposition
that these public trusts should not be tampered with, and their original
object defeated; but when the best of them are diverted from the purpose
originally intended by the philanthropists who presented them to the
public, a great wrong is inflicted on the citizens of New York.
There has been a great deal said and written during the past few years
about the Vanderbilt system of railroads being a great monopoly. I am
not in favor of monopolies. On the contrary, I have, in this book, as
well as through other mediums of reaching the public, and in interviews
published all over the country, denounced monopolies in very strong
terms. I regard the Vanderbilt properly, however, in the light of a
great trust, the four young men above referred to, with Chauncey M.
Depew, the President of New York Central, being the trustees, and I
question very much if that eminent team of honest and able reformers,
Henry George and the Rev. Dr. Edward McGlynn, with other minor lights of
the Anti-Poverty Society, could administer that trust with greater
benefit to the public, nor could they employ a greater army of
well-paid, easy-worked, and well-fed men by any State or National
supervision or management, or by breaking up the great corporation into
probably a hundred or more small companies.
The Vanderbilt system employs 200,000 people at better wages than they
can obtain elsewhere, any place in the world. It pays over $150 an hour
for taxes. The State is paid $1 for every $2.70 received by the
stockholders.
Nor can I think it possible that the paternal system of Government
proposed by the Socialists, with all the modern discoveries and
appliances of dynamite to aid them, could accomplish as much in a
century for the well-being and advantage of the people of this State and
of the whole country as the Vanderbilt system of railroads has done in
half that time. I see no reason, therefore, to regard the present
Vanderbilt regime as a grinding monopoly.
Until the Georgeites, the McGlynnites, and the Socialists demonstrate
that their untried systems will confer greater happiness on humanity
than honest enterprise in the best circumstances, under our present
social system, with all its defects, has developed, I shall be tardy in
subscribing my adhesion to the new order of things.
I don’t wish to be understood for a moment as implying that I am averse
to free thought, the highest development of humanity, mentally and
physically, and the most advanced evolution in the same direction. I aim
at keeping abreast of all these within the free exercise of my own
judgment, and it is thus that I can heartily applaud Dr. McGlynn for his
polite but firm refusal to visit the Eternal City for the purpose of
being corrected or regulated in regard to free thought and free speech,
as viewed from the American standpoint, by a foreign potentate, who
assumes the guardianship and governorship of all human affairs, both
from a spiritual and secular point of view.
The days of Hildebrand (Pope Gregory VII.) are gone for ever, and Leo
XIII. should have sense enough to know it. McGlynn will never stand,
like Henry IV., shivering in his shirt at the door of the Vatican,
awaiting his sentence of penance to Canossa. Bismarck, however, came
pretty near repeating this little historical episode not long since, but
the great Chancellor of the German Empire, unlike McGlynn, did not have
the advantage of an American education, and the independence which it
confers. He may, therefore, to some extent be excused. I think, however,
that McGlynn will stick, and I admire his firmness. No church, no matter
how powerful its foreign allies may be, can suppress free speech in the
home of the brave and the land of the free.
So, in their battle for freedom of speech, I admire the pluck of the
George-McGlynn party, but as regards their social theories, I shall
remain in a waiting mood until I see them more fully demonstrated.
To return from this little digression, however, I wish to express the
hope that the young Vanderbilts will manage their vast estate so as to
inure to the public benefit in such a way that the most fastidious
Socialist will be unable to take exception to the benign results.
The young Vanderbilts have at intervals speculated in Wall Street, but
conservatively, with the exception of William K., who, in the past, has
made numerous and spasmodic turns, chiefly on the advice of older
operators, which have not always redounded to his interest. As a rule
these young men are shrewd and cautious financiers, and I think it is
safe to say that none of them will run the risk of losing his handsome
fortune in speculation.
[Illustration:
From Harper’s Magazine. Copyright, 1873, by Harper & Brothers.
SOLOMON ROTHSCHILD,
Head of the old House at Vienna.
CHARLES ROTHSCHILD,
Head of the old House at Naples.
ANSELM MAYER ROTHSCHILD,
Head of the House at Frankfort, 1812-35.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER XXXVIII.
THE ROTHSCHILDS.
THE BEGINNING OF THE FINANCIAL CAREER OF THE GREAT HOUSE OF
ROTHSCHILD.—THE HESSIAN BLOOD MONEY WAS THE GREAT FOUNDATION OF
THEIR FORTUNE.—HOW THE FIRM OF THE FIVE ORIGINAL BROTHERS WAS
CONSTITUTED.—NATHAN THE GREATEST SPECULATOR OF THE FAMILY.—HIS
CAREER IN GREAT BRITAIN, AND HOW HE MISREPRESENTED THE RESULT OF THE
“BATTLE OF WATERLOO” FOR SPECULATIVE PURPOSES.—CREATING A PANIC ON
THE LONDON STOCK EXCHANGE—HIS TERROR OF BEING ASSASSINATED.—HIS
DEATH CAUSES A PANIC ON THE LONDON EXCHANGE AND THE BOURSES.
As the Rothschilds have indirectly made an immense amount of money in
Wall Street from time to time, a sketch of the famous house and its
methods of doing business will be of interest in this volume. The house
is represented in America by Mr. August Belmont, than whom there is no
banker more widely known and more highly regarded all the world over. It
is due to the wise and conservative management of Mr. Belmont that the
famous Rothschilds have reaped millions of profits from American
sources. The original name of Rothschild was Bauer. The family adopted
the name Rothschild (Red Shield) from the sign which the founder of the
house kept over his dingy little shop in Frankfort-on-the-Main, in the
odoriferous quarter called the Judengasse (Jews’ street). In this little
shop Mayer Anselm Rothschild, the founder of the house, discounted
bills, changed money, examined the quality of coins, bought cheap and
sold dear. “How do you get so rich, Mr. Rothschild?” said a friend of
his to old Anselm one day, as he leaned over his dusky little counter.
The original head of the great house said: “I buys ‘sheep’ and sells
‘deer.’” His knowledge of the quality of coins was marvellous. He could
detect a light coin the moment he took it in his hand, and there was no
imitation diamond or gem could escape his eye. He had the instinct of
genius in detecting everything in the form of money or jewelry that was
not genuine. He was a walking directory so far as the financial standing
of every commercial man in Frankfort and in several other important
cities in Germany was concerned. At the age of seventeen young
Rothschild took rank with the best, oldest and ablest financiers of
Frankfort. His father, who died when Mayer Anselm was thirteen years of
age, had intended to make him a Rabbi, but the coin had such attraction
for him, that it quickly drew him from the Talmud, and he established
himself in his father’s narrow quarters as a financier.
It is not generally known that Rothschild’s first great start in
financial life was given to him by the use of the twenty million dollars
which was paid to the Landgrave of Hesse, Frederic II., by George III.
of England, for 17,000 Hessians to help to whip George Washington and
retain the American Colonies. This blood money was the original basis of
the vast fortune of the Rothschilds. It was deposited with Mayer Anselm
by William IX., the successor of Frederic, whose example was followed by
other great ones of the earth, and in a few years the agents of the
kings and princes of Europe were flocking to Frankfort to negotiate
loans with Rothschild on behalf of their mighty patrons.
There is a very interesting story related, giving the reason why the
Landgrave passed by all the great bankers of Frankfort and entrusted
this large amount, together with a similar amount afterwards, to
Rothschild. The latter had occasion to visit Prince William at his
palace in Cassel, and found him playing a game of chess with Baron
Estorff. Rothschild prudently kept quiet and did not interrupt the game,
but stepped lightly up and stood behind the prince’s chair, where he
could watch every move. The Prince was getting the worst of the game,
and was becoming a little excited. Turning around, he said: “Rothschild,
do you understand chess?” “Sufficiently well, your Serene Highness,”
replied Rothschild, “to induce me, were the game mine, to castle on the
king’s side.” The Prince took the hint, and won the game. Then turning
to Rothschild, he said: “You are a wise man. He who can extricate a
chess player from such a difficulty as I was in, must have a very clear
head for business.”
The Prince afterwards told the Baron that Rothschild was as good a chess
player as Frederic the Great, and that a man of such capacity must be
able to take good care of money. The forty millions which were obtained
on deposit remained with the house of Rothschild for nine years, and
when Napoleon invaded Germany in the interim, the money, together with
other valuables, was hidden in wine casks in Rothschild’s cellar, but
the Conqueror never thought of tapping the casks. After peace was
proclaimed, and William, who had been obliged to seek safety in flight,
returned home, old Rothschild was dead, but his son Anselm handed over
to the Prince every dollar of the forty millions, and tendered him in
addition two per cent. interest for the entire time of the deposit. The
Prince made him a present of the interest.
The elder Rothschild had five sons, namely: Anselm, who succeeded his
father in Frankfort; Solomon, of Vienna; Nathan Mayer, of London;
Charles, of Naples; and James, of Paris. According to their father’s
will, the five sons were to constitute but one firm, in which they were
to enjoy equal profits, and never divide the fortune. The business was
to be managed at Frankfort as headquarters, to which great money centre
all the profits from the other moneyed capitals were to be raked in. The
intention of the old man was to make these five money kings dominate
Europe by the power of their wealth, so that the ordinary kings would
become their subjects, and in many instances the hopes of the great old
chess player have been realized. All the annual settlements were made at
Frankfort, and the brothers met there at least once a year for a general
conference. This system continues, and though the original five brothers
have all passed over to the majority, the last of them, James, having
died in Paris in 1868, at the ripe age of 76, yet the representatives of
the house in the large cities of Europe sustain the principles of union,
harmony and consolidation laid down by old Anselm Mayer Rothschild.
Although this union has been the great source of the Rothschilds’
success, it would be hopeless, however, for any other parent outside the
Hebrew race to imitate the injunction of old Rothschild. The idea of an
equal division of the profits could not be entertained for a moment by
an American. The socialistic family tie that enjoined such an
arrangement could only be rendered binding through the power of the
Hebrew religion. Just imagine how an American would feel if by some
lucky turn of fortune, like that of Nathan Rothschild in London, after
the battle of Waterloo, he should make six millions in a day, and be
requested to divide it with his four brothers! He would sooner spend a
million of it to try and break the old man’s will, and employ several of
the best sophistical lawyers he could find to prove that his father was
demented.
It is supposed that the elder Rothschild died worth 15 or 20 millions,
but this is in a great measure merely conjecture, as nobody outside the
family ever knew what their real wealth was, this fact having always
been kept an inviolate family secret. It must be said, to the credit of
the old man, that in his latter days, instead of becoming stingy, as
many do, he was quite liberal, and, according to the scriptural
injunction, distributed his alms in secret, without even permitting his
sons to know anything about the matter. He contributed largely to
various charities in the same way. It is said he would go through the
poverty-stricken districts of the city after night, giving money to the
needy, from whom he would retreat before giving them time to thank him
for his beneficence. He had a notion that those who gave without
receiving thanks were greater favorites with the Divine Being, who rules
the destinies of man.
[Illustration:
From Harper’s Magazine. Copyright, 1873, by Harper & Brothers.
NATHAN MAYER ROTHSCHILD.
(The Financial Hero of Waterloo.)
]
The greatest speculator of the five brothers was Nathan Mayer
Rothschild, the third son of the great old man. He made the grand hit of
his life after the battle of Waterloo. He kept watching the movements of
the opposing armies on the Continent, and followed Wellington very
closely as he approached the famous field. It seems that the Iron Duke
was not at all pleased with Nathan’s attention to him, as he took him
for either a spy or an assassin, and was on the point of having him
arrested several times. But Nathan kept his purpose steadily in view, in
spite of the fact that bullets were whizzing around his ears in showers.
He sat on his horse on the hill of Hougomont with perfect composure in
the teeming rain the whole afternoon, looking upon that terrible
struggle that was to decide the destiny of nations, until Blucher
arrived and the French were put to route.
As soon as Nathan saw this he put spurs to his steed and made all
possible haste to Brussels, where a carriage with swift horses was in
waiting to carry him to Ostend. At day light next morning he arrived on
the Belgian coast, where he found it exceedingly difficult to obtain a
boat, the sea being very rough. At length he obtained a boatman as
courageous as himself, who undertook the task for 2,500 francs, and
landed him at Dover in the evening. He lost no time, but with relays of
the swiftest horses pushed forward to London, and was on the Exchange
next morning ready for business, long before the opening of the market.
That was the morning of the 20th, only a day and two nights after the
battle that decided the fate of nations. Nathan had performed a great
feat. He acted his role well. Like the great hero whose political
history had just closed, Nathan was “grand, gloomy and peculiar,” in the
financial sense of the phrase. He was an embodiment of the latest
information from the Continent. In defiance of winds and waves he had,
at the risk of his life, outstripped the swiftest couriers and the best
special correspondents of that day. The great operators flocked around
him asking, “What is the news?” Nathan sighed heavily and seemed
reluctant to tell. Eventually, this important piece of information was
extorted from him, in strict confidence: “Blucher, at the head of his
vast army of veterans, was defeated by Napoleon at Ligny, on the 16th
and 17th (of June), and there can be no hope for Wellington with his
comparatively small and undisciplined force.” This statement was
substantially true, and it forcibly reminds one of Tennyson’s poetic
remarks:
“A lie which is all a lie
May be met and fought with outright,
But a lie which is half a truth,
Is a harder matter to fight.”
True, Blucher had been repulsed at Ligny. The Duke had an awkward squad,
with the exception of the English, the Irish, and the Scotch Greys, to
marshal in fighting order, but he “got there all the same.” Nathan’s
secret point soon oozed out, and in less than an hour after the opening
there was a perfect panic on the London Stock Exchange. Nathan had his
brokers at work, first selling “short,” and then, when the market
reached bed rock, buying on the long side. He bought everything that he
could raise, borrow or beg the money for—consols, notes and bills. When
the news of Wellington’s victory arrived, forty-eight hours after Nathan
had begun to manipulate the market, and when he was “long” of everything
that he had money or credit to purchase, securities went up with a boom.
Nathan realized six million dollars, and it is said that a large number
of the great operators flocked around him to congratulate him. It was
lucky for Nathan that the scene of his operations was in London instead
of Wall Street, otherwise Judge Lynch might have had something to say
before the settlements had been made.
The career of Nathan Rothschild in England was remarkable, and his
success from the very start phenomenal. He began his speculations and
money-lending operations in Manchester with $500, being the limited
amount which he was permitted to draw from the family treasury on taking
his departure from Frankfort to seek his fortune in Great Britain. In
five years he had augmented the $500 to a million. He then removed to
London. There he married a daughter of Levi Cohen, one of the wealthiest
Hebrews of the great metropolis, well known by the pseudonym of
Pound-Adoring Cohen. His father-in-law was afraid that Nathan would soon
ruin himself, so reckless did he seem in his speculations, estimated by
the conservative standard of old Cohen.
Nathan was very fortunate in his speculative ventures in the public
funds, and managed to get himself introduced so as to do considerable
business for the Government in its transactions on the Continent. His
first introduction to the Government was through the Duke of Wellington,
who during his peninsular campaigns had made drafts that the Treasury of
Great Britain was dilatory in meeting. Nathan purchased these drafts at
a large discount. He afterwards renewed them to the Government, and they
were eventually redeemed at par. This was the means of bringing him into
confidential relations with the ministry of Great Britain, and he was
entirely trusted as their chief agent in all their financial matters on
the Continent. This gave him immense advantage in speculating, and
enabled him to give his brothers in the other great capitals of Europe a
large amount of valuable and inside information, which put them in a
position to speculate with success in the funds of their respective
Governments. Nathan had made arrangements to get the very latest
information from Frankfort, then the centre of European financiering, by
well trained carrier pigeons. He had also several boats of his own by
which to send personal messages across the channel in cases where these
were requisite, and a boat always in readiness at a moment’s notice in
case his presence should be indispensable at the great money centre, and
the central counting and clearing house of the family.
Nathan Rothschild was a strange and inconsistent compound of liberality,
avariciousness, and penuriousness. He entertained his guests in a
princely style, and often princes were mingled with those guests, but he
was miserably mean with his clerks and employees generally. Unlike A. T.
Stewart, who followed the very opposite rule, and had his place filled
with bankrupt dry goods men as employees, the Rothschilds would never
engage anybody who had been unfortunate in business. They had a
superstitious feeling that misfortune is contagious, and they carefully
avoided coming in contact with any of its victims. Nathan was even more
precise than Wm. H. Vanderbilt in calculating the pennies in his lunch
bill; but while Vanderbilt did this as a mere whim to illustrate his
business precision and correctness, Rothschild really loved the pennies
with ardent devotion. But Baron Nathan, even when he had accumulated
$70,000,000 or $80,000,000, was not happy. He was tortured by the fear
of enemies, who, he believed, intended to murder him. Like Vanderbilt,
he received many threatening letters; but unlike the New York
millionaire, who paid no attention to threats, but walked and drove out
defiantly, Rothschild was still in mortal terror, and believed that the
threats were intended to be executed. Nathan made one of his biggest
piles out of the Almaden quicksilver mines in Spain. The Spanish
Government wanted a loan, which he granted, receiving the mines as
security for several years. He got up a “corner” in quicksilver, and
raised the price 100 per cent. He realized almost $6,000,000 out of this
transaction. It was as good for him as the Waterloo deal, only the
returns did not come in so quickly. Nathan died in Frankfort, at the age
of 59, in 1836. His last words were, “He is trying to kill me. Quick,
quick, give me the gold.” His death created a panic on the London Stock
Exchange, and the Continental Bourses were greatly embarrassed by the
event. The news was conveyed by a carrier pigeon, which was shot by a
boy near Brighton. The message was briefly, _Il est mort_-“He is dead.”
The interests of the house of Rothschild are now scattered over the
globe, and it is probable that the aggregate wealth of all the branches
of the firm, including the possessions of the various members of their
families, exceeds $1,000,000,000.
[Illustration:
_W R Travers_
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHAPTER XXXIX.
TRAVERS.
THE UNIQUE CHARACTER OF TRAVERS—HIS VERSATILE ATTAINMENTS—ALTHOUGH OF A
GENIAL AND HUMOROUS DISPOSITION, HE HAS ALWAYS BEEN A BEAR—HOW HE
WAS THE MEANS OF PRESERVING THE COMMERCIAL SUPREMACY OF NEW YORK—HE
SQUASHES THE ENGLISH BRAVADO, AND SAVES THE ORATORICAL HONOR OF OUR
COUNTRY—HAS THE OYSTER BRAINS?—IT MUST HAVE BRAINS. FOR IT KNOWS
ENOUGH TO SH-SH-SHUT UP—THE DOG AND THE RAT—I D-D-DON’T WANT TO BUY
THE D-D-DOG; I WILL BUY THE R-R-RAT—TRAVERS ON THE ROYAL STAND AT
THE DERBY—HOW HE WAS EUCHRED BY THE POOL-SELLER—MY PROXY IN A SPEECH
AT THE UNION CLUB.—IF YOU ARE A S-S-SELF-MADE MAN, WH-WH-Y THE
D-DEVIL DIDN’T YOU PUT MORE H-HAIR ON THE TOP OF YOUR HEAD? OTHER
WITTICISMS, &C.
Wm. R. Travers is one of the most notable men of Wall Street in our
time.
His success in speculation has usually been on the bear side, which is
rather singular, as he is a man of such a genial disposition, with a
kind nature, an inexhaustible supply of sparkling wit, and always
brimful of humor.
He is also fond of athletic sports of every description, and, in fact,
is a kind of universal genius, so various and versatile are his
attainments. Owing to his immense variety of qualities, tastes and
pursuits, he has one of the most remarkable records in Wall Street; and
the most singular thing about him, probably, is, that while having all
the attributes usually inherent in a bull, he has always been a bear in
his transactions.
This genial, benevolent and high spirited man has never been known to
believe that there was any value in any property.
If he ever by chance happened to make any money on the bull side of the
market, it must have made him feel very uncomfortable—in fact,
conscientiously miserable—as he could not realize that by any
possibility it belonged to him.
It is due to Mr. Travers, however, that New York has been so highly
classified in the catalogue of cities, in fact, as occupying the highest
position in public estimation, and that it has attained full credit for
being the largest in wealth and population of any city in the Union.
This fact, now generally admitted, seemed to have been suspended in
doubt until Mr. Travers came from Baltimore to reside in our midst.
It will be remembered by many Wall Street men that prior to the advent
of Mr. Travers the rivalry among several of the seaboard cities on the
Atlantic coast was very keen. Boston, Philadelphia and Baltimore were
each in turn disposed to claim pre-eminence. Thanks to this Wall Street
magnate, the matter is now no longer in dispute. It was finally decided
in this way:
One day after Mr. Travers became one of ourselves, an old friend from
Baltimore met him in Wall Street. As it had been a long time since they
saw each other, they had a considerable number of topics to talk over.
They had been familiar friends in the Monumental City, and were not
therefore restrained by the usual social formalities.
“I notice, Travers,” said the Baltimorean, “that you stutter a great
deal more than when you were in Baltimore.”
“W-h-y, y-e-s,” replied Mr. Travers, darting a look of surprise at his
friend; “of course I do. This is a d-d-damned sight b-b-bigger city.”
That settled it. Since this famous interview, and this scientific
explanation given by Mr. Travers to his old friend, no skeptic has had
sufficient temerity to entertain any doubt regarding the financial and
commercial supremacy of New York; its leading position as the great
emporium of the Continent has never since been questioned; and there are
few cities outside of Ohio that can claim such power in politics.
It is due to Mr. Travers, also, that this country still retains the palm
for oratory and volubility in speech, and has successfully resisted the
intrusive and pretentious claims of Great Britain in regard to that
great and somewhat limited accomplishment.
The destiny of this nation in that respect hung in the balance at one
time.
A sort of go-as-you-please oratorical contest was being arranged to
decide the question of championship between Great Britain and ourselves,
and a vaunting and loquacious Britisher had appeared in our midst to
dispute the claim of the national cup in oratory as Rowell had done for
the belt in pedestrianism.
This English bravado had letters of introduction from Lord Randolph
Churchill, Sir Charles Dilke, Lord Salisbury, Mr. Gladstone, and other
British declaimers to Mr. Travers and other American gentlemen. It was
in the yachting season, and the voluble champion was invited to
accompany a party, of which Mr. Travers was the leading spirit, down the
bay in Mr. Travers’ yacht. The orator had talked everybody within
earshot of his voice almost deaf. When the party arrived at the dinner
table it was hoped that he would cease for a short time; but when every
other topic seemed exhausted, as well as the patience of his listeners,
he started off with renewed fluency on the subject of oysters, which
constituted the dish then at table.
“It is now a debatable point among scientists,” he began, “as to whether
or not the oyster has brains.” Travers, who up to this time had endured
the infliction of his loquacious guest, with the calmness of Job, said,
“I think the oyster must have b-b-brains because it knows enough when to
sh-sh-shut up.”
By this satiric stroke the English orator was dumbfounded and almost
paralyzed; his fluent tongue ceased to wag with its usual volubility,
and when requested to name his time for the international contest, he
begged to be excused until cured of his cold. He took the next steamer
for Liverpool, and has not been heard of since. Mr. Travers’ incisive
remark about the mental attributes of the oyster thoroughly squashed
him, and saved the oratorical honor of our country.
Mr. Travers started in life in the grocery business in Baltimore, but
disaster overtaking him there, he came to New York, and soon thereafter
formed a co-partnership with Leonard W. Jerome, the firm being Travers &
Jerome. Mr. Travers met with fair prosperity from the start, and soon
accumulated wealth. The worst set-back probably that he ever received
during his residence in this city was on one occasion on his way home
after the business day was over. Being attracted by the display in the
window of a bird fancier and dog dealer, from curiosity he was tempted
to enter the place. One of the conspicuous objects that met his eye was
a very large sized parrot. Mr. Travers inquired of the proprietor of the
establishment who was in attendance “i-i-if th-th-th-that p-p-parrot
c-c-could t-t-talk?”
Its owner quickly replied, “If it couldn’t talk better than you, I’d cut
its damned head off.”
Mr. Travers for a long time afterwards made up his mind some time or
other to get even with this dealer in animals and birds, and succeeded
most effectually. His coachman made a complaint to him that the stable
was overrun with rats. Mr. Travers said, “Well, you m-m-must hunt for a
r-r-rat dog.” The coachman made it known that Mr. Travers wanted a dog,
and all those engaged dealing in dogs overran Mr. Travers’ house as
ferociously as the rats had overrun the stable, to get him to buy a dog.
Among the rest who responded was this identical man who kept the store
where the parrot was. Mr. Travers recognized him at once, and told him,
“I-i-if he w-w-would b-b-b-be d-d-down at the s-s-stable in the
m-morning with t-th-the d-d-dog, he would g-g-give him a tr-tr-trial,
and if he p-pr-proved to b-b-be a g-g-good r-rat c-c-catcher, would
b-b-buy him.”
Mr. Travers sent for his coachman and told him to catch three or four
rats and put them in the bin, and he would be down in the morning to try
the dog. So, good and early next morning Mr. Travers was on hand at the
stable, and also the dog man and his terrier. Three rats having already
been put into the bin, Mr. Travers ordered the dog put inside, as the
man said he was ready for the fray, and the rats were so ferocious, and
showed such determined fight, that they kept the dog at bay, and he took
to the corner of the bin for protection. By and by the owner pushed him
right on the rats, and after a pretty fierce tussle he did secure one of
them and shook him until dead. This success encouraged a tussle with
another, which, after a long fight, shared the same fate. The third rat,
however, was determined to resist the dog, and did so nobly and
fiercely, making a prolonged fight, which resulted in a draw, and it was
hard to tell which was the worst hurt, the dog or the rat.
The owner of the dog then turned to Mr. Travers and said: “Now you see
what a fine dog that is, won’t you buy him?” Mr. Travers replied: “I
d-d-don’t w-w-want t-t-to b-b-buy the d-d-dog, b-b-but I’ll b-b-b-buy
the r-rat.”
Mr. Travers, when he first saw the owner of this dog, remembered him in
connection with the parrot. Since the rat fight, however, this same man
has never ceased to remember Mr. Travers, so that honors remain easy
between them. Mr. Travers has never been known to be at a loss for wit
to meet an emergency, and it is recognized that it flows as freely from
his lips and in as perfectly natural a way, as ordinary conversation
does from most people.
Early in the Spring of last year, on the advice of his physician, Mr.
Travers took his maiden trip to Europe, and would not have gone but for
the urgency of the case, always regarding that this country was big
enough for him without leaving its shores. When he reached England,
however, he found, when his arrival was announced through the medium of
the papers, that he was as well known amongst the nobility, sporting
world and other distinguished people there as he was in his own country,
owing to his connection with the turf and athletic sports, together with
his widely published witticisms which had preceded him. He consequently
was overpowered by attention and hospitality, and participated to as
full an extent as his health would permit. He attended the Derby, and
took an interest in a pool which resulted in his favor. As soon as he
ascertained his good fortune, he went to bag his money, but found that
the pool man had decamped with the funds. This was a sad disappointment.
He could scarcely believe his eyes or the various statements which went
to corroborate this man’s disappearance, but it was evident that he was
_non est_, as he was nowhere to be found about the stand or on the
field. Travers made complaint to a policeman, who appeared perfectly
indifferent to the charge. Mr. Travers said: “W-w-we d-don’t d-d-do
th-th-that way in m-my c-c-c-country. I b-b-belong to America.” The
policeman turned impertinently and said: “You had better go back to your
own country, if that’s the case.” This was an indignity to which Mr.
Travers did not feel inclined to submit, and he at once exhibited his
badge, which admitted him to the royal stand. The policeman recognized
it with affright, and almost fell on his knees in making profuse
apologies and offers of service, showing the cringing spirit which
prevails in England to royalty and nobility, by the people who occupy
the position as servants to these high-born personages. Mr. Travers
overlooked this official rudeness, and submitted to his loss as
cheerfully as possible under the circumstances.
I met Mr. Travers on board the Newport boat immediately on his return,
and he told me this story. I replied, “that I was surprised that a man
of that character should have acted so villainously, as I had always
supposed that such men were influenced by the recognized principle the
world over, of honor among thieves.” Mr. Travers instantly replied: “No
one could have t-t-told him that I was a th-th-thief.”
I remember another instance, which was during the war period. I had
written a series of letters on national financial matters, which were
then before the country for discussion, and they were published in the
New York _Times_. Mr. Travers was met on his way down town by a Wall
Street friend on the morning that one of these letters appeared in the
paper, who asked Mr. Travers if he had seen Mr. Clews’ last letter. Mr.
Travers said, “I h-h-hope so.”
Shortly after this I was a guest at a dinner party at the Union Club,
and was late in presenting myself. When I reached the entertainment
(which was a sort of mutual admiration gathering), the speeches had
commenced, and I no sooner had taken my seat than Mr. Lawrence Jerome
proposed my health. While it was being drank, Mr. Travers, who sat
immediately opposite, came over and whispered in my ear, “Clews, you
d-d-don’t w-want t-to speak so soon after c-c-oming in here, d-d-do
you?” “No, I do not,” I replied. “I’ll t-t-tell th-th-them so, will I?”
“Yes, I wish you would,” I said. He went back to his place and said,
“Gentlemen, I have talked with Mr. Clews, and he d-d-desires me t-to ask
you t-to excuse him f-from making a speech on th-th-this occasion and
i-if you w-will d-d-do so, he w-will w-write you a l-letter.”
To show the rapid fluctuations that take place in Wall Street, and how
even the best judges of the market are often mistaken in their
prognostications, I will note an instance in connection with Mr.
Travers. On his return from Europe, which was early in July, 1885, when
the market on this side was weak, cables prior to his departure
evidently indicated to him that much lower figures were in order. Just
prior to the arrival of the steamer, in conversing with an associate
member of the Exchange, he said, “B-b-barnes, I’ll make a l-l-little
b-b-bet with you; I’ll b-b-bet you L-l-lackawanna will b-b-be under
six-ty when we r-reach New Y-York.” Barnes was not willing to make the
bet, however, but on their arrival, which was two days after, nothing
surprised Mr. Travers so much as to find Lackawanna 110 instead of the
figure 60 or less which he had predicted, especially as its advance did
not cease thereafter until it sold at 130.
It has been justly said, that if a man will wear a good looking hat, and
good, well polished boots, the head and feet being the parts which first
catch the eye of an observer, it matters very little what kind of
material the coat, vest and trousers may be made of, if they are whole
and kept clean. Though they may be threadbare the man will appear to be
fairly dressed, and will look much younger than if he were careless
regarding the covering of his extremities. If the latter are fairly
adorned he can pass muster.
Knowing this fact, I had always been in the habit of posing before the
public as a youth. In this I was materially assisted by having no hair
on the top of my head, in the place where other people’s hair usually
grows. I had been this way for twenty years, just presenting about the
same appearance as when I was born, and it has always been a matter of
remark how youthful I looked.
I have often been asked what I did to keep myself looking so young. My
truthful answer always has been that, “Virtue is its own reward.” This
theory invariably passed as sound in my case until it was knocked into a
cocked hat by Travers. One unlucky day he removed the mask, and changed
the current of public opinion against me on the much cherished subject
of my perpetual bloom of youth.
It occurred in this way. Frank Leslie’s _Illustrated Weekly_ had
published a number of pictures of the active business men of New York,
who were known in the community as self-made men, and mine was among
them.
A few days after the appearance of my picture in this paper, I happened,
one afternoon, on my way uptown, to drop into the Union Club, and as
usual, went into the main room. It was full of members, largely composed
of a scattering of Wall Street bankers and brokers.
Travers was present, and when he is on hand on such occasions, it always
means laughter for the multitude at some one’s expense. In this instance
it happened to be at mine.
As I entered the room, Travers said, in an audible voice: “Hallo, boys!
here comes Clews, the self-made man.” Then, addressing himself to me, he
said: “I s-s-say, Cl-Cl-Clews, as you are a s-s-self-made man, wh-wh-why
the d-d-devil didn’t you p-put more h-h-hair on the top of your head?”
This story having gone the rounds, as it soon did, drew attention to my
summer-appareled head, which before that time had enabled me to pass
myself off as a youngster just striking out at the commencement of life.
That stroke of Travers’ wit, however, has been the cause of consigning
me ever since to the ranks of the old “fogies.” Now, everybody is
convinced that my hair, now _non est_, had already come and gone, and
that my head represents the work of ages.
This is another vivid instance illustrating the saying that “many a
truth is spoken in jest.”
When Travers thus removed my mask of adolescence, it made me feel
unhappy for some time, as it really transformed my entire identity, and
deprived me of that luxury so dear to all the fair sex, and to many of
my own, of sailing under false colors in reference to my age.
Still, as Travers is such a righteous, good fellow, I have had to
forgive him, notwithstanding the gravity of the offense in having hurt
the most tender part of my sensitive nature. So we can make up and
become friends again, as I value the renewal of his friendship even at
the cost of such a great personal sacrifice as the deprivation of my
supposed youthfulness.
On the principle that misery loves company, and as Mr. Travers had
brought misery to my lot by drawing public attention to my bare head, I
found consolation, shortly afterwards, in a huge joke that the same
facetious individual perpetrated upon another member of the Club, who
happened to be one of New York’s most celebrated lawyers. This
gentleman, it is well known, has been connected with some of the largest
and most remunerative railroad cases in our courts for many years, and
being considered a great authority in that branch of legal lore, he was
accustomed to exact his own terms from his wealthy clients, which meant,
in most instances, a very fat fee. This gentleman was standing on the
side of the street opposite the Club one afternoon, while Travers was
surrounded by a cluster of club men on the other side. “Look across the
way, boys,” observed Travers, “th-th-there’s B-B-Barlow with his hands
in his own p-p-pockets at last.”
On another occasion, when Travers, who resides at Newport in the summer,
and is the possessor of a small-sized yacht there, which he obtained
some years ago in lieu of a debt, was taking a refreshing sail on his
yacht in the bay one morning, it happened that a squadron of yachts
appeared in his vicinity, and there was going to be a race. Travers
having been made acquainted with the fact, invited a party of friends to
go to see the race. As soon as it became known to the yachtsmen that the
renowned Travers had appeared on the deck of his yacht, a committee was
assigned to convey to him the respects of the members of the squadron.
When they came alongside his craft he invited them on board, and saw at
a glance that they nearly all happened to be bankers and brokers.
Casting his eyes across the glittering water, he beheld a number of
beautiful white-winged yachts in the distance, and finding, by inquiry,
that they all belonged to Wall Street well known brokers, he appeared
thereby to be thrown momentarily into a deep reverie, and, without
turning his gaze from the handsome squadron, finally asked his
distinguished visitors, “wh-wh-where are the cu-cu-customers’ yachts?”
Comment would be entirely superfluous.
A. T. Stewart, the world renowned retail dry goods merchant, was
elected, on one occasion, to preside at a meeting of citizens during the
war period, Travers being amongst the number present. When Mr. Stewart
took his gold pencil case from his pocket and rapped with its head on
the table for the meeting to come to order, Travers called out, in an
audible tone, “C-cash!” which brought down the house, and no one laughed
more heartily than Mr. Stewart, although it was a severe thrust at
himself.
As it is sometimes said of a stranger who comes from a foreign country,
Travers came to New York well recommended, bringing letters of
introduction with him from the first families of Baltimore, and
credentials which at once established his status and reputation. So it
was not necessary for him to remain long on probation in New York.
Coming here was not a new birth to him, although, in some measure, he
may be said to have risen, Phœnix-like, from the ashes of his former
self, as business misfortunes had overtaken him in Baltimore.
Travers had not only to start in a new place and in a new business when
he came here, but he had to begin the ascent of his prosperous career at
the very bottom of the financial ladder. Owing to his incomparable
geniality he met with hosts of friends from the very start, and he
prospered from the word “go.”
Travers formed several partnerships at various times. After making
considerable money in the one above alluded to with Mr. Jerome, the
partnership was dissolved, and Travers then continued business alone as
a Wall Street operator, and as I have formerly stated, usually acted on
the bear side of the market, which was remarkable for a person of such a
buoyant and hopeful disposition.
In his business operations Mr. Travers has always shown great sagacity,
mingled with caution, and his prestige as a leader became so great that
he soon attracted a numerous following of operators, who, with their
eminent leader, formed a set widely known in speculative circles all
over this country as the “Twenty-third Street Party.” Of this party, Mr.
Addison Cammack, the celebrated bear, was a prominent member, and a
great admirer of Mr. Travers.
Mr. Travers was well-born and received a good education, with an
excellent training for a business career. He married a daughter of the
Hon. Reverdy Johnson, who was United States Minister to England during
the administration of Andrew Johnson, and who was one of the most
prominent members of the Bar.
Mr. Travers has always been famous for his attachment to out-door sports
and amusements, and on the principle that water finds its level, so did
Mr. Travers in the sporting world. He soon became President of the
Jerome Jockey Club, President of the Racquet Club, President of the
Athletic Club, and was thoroughly identified as a leader in the large
majority of manly and out-door sports, in which the youth of New York
city and its suburbs were interested.
It is due both to Mr. Travers and his quondam partner, the renowned
Leonard W. Jerome, to state that the efforts of these two men have been
chiefly instrumental in elevating the social and moral tone of the
race-course in this part of the country, and raising it to a standard of
respectability, to which before their reformatory efforts it was
partially a stranger. It was, in a great measure, through their
exertions that the race-track became a fashionable resort, in the North,
for ladies, as it had been in the South for many years, especially in
Kentucky. The ladies of the present day can now talk horse at Jerome
Park, Sheepshead Bay and Long Branch with a volubility that twenty years
ago would have shocked their mothers, and would still cause their
grandmothers to have epileptic fits. So the ladies of the present
generation are greatly indebted to these two gentlemen for having
removed the social stigma from the turf, in this section, thus enabling
the fair sex to enjoy, in common with the lords of creation, and without
compunction and loss of dignity, one of the greatest pleasures in the
whole range of out-door recreations.
The breed of horses has been improved to an extent that leaves the
famous Arabian steed of yore, that outstripped the flight of the
ostrich, far in the distance. This development in speed has been brought
to its highest pitch in Harry Bassett, and Wm. H. Vanderbilt’s fondly
cherished Maud S., now the property of Mr. Robert Bonner. For this
immense evolution in speed and staying powers the patrons of the turf
are largely indebted to Jerome and Travers.
One of Travers’ best _bon mots_ was inspired by the sight of the Siamese
Twins. After carefully examining the mysterious ligature that had bound
them together from birth, he looked up blankly at them and said,
“B-b-br-brothers, I presume.”
Among Travers’ contemporaries, Mr. Charles L. Frost was very well known
a few years ago. His specialty was purchasing the junior securities of
foreclosed railroads which were supposed to be wiped out, so far as any
visible element of value was concerned.
Then, at a time when it was quite inconvenient for the reorganized
companies, he would pounce down upon them with some sort of vexatious
litigation, and would often levy on the bank balances of these
corporations as a part of his proceedings and peculiar methods of
management. He was enabled to take such action as they were foreign
corporations. In this way he made it exceedingly difficult for these
corporations to defend the various suits in law engineered by him, and
rendered their existence exceedingly uncomfortable by placing their
money in a tight place and cutting off the interest.
These peculiar methods of financiering identified Mr. Frost in a measure
with Wall Street men, as a character whom most of the bankers and
brokers who had any dealings with him have had good reason to remember
feelingly. Frost had bushy, white curly hair, a beardless, full face,
and a very red nose, which could only be acquired at considerable
expense or as the result of chronic dyspepsia. There is no evidence,
however, that he was a victim of this natural malady, so his
highly-colored proboscis must be accounted for in some other way.
Mr. Travers met this gentleman one morning by accident in a Fourth
Avenue railroad car going down town. Although formerly acquainted, they
had not met in years, and time, as indicated by his white locks, was
beginning to tell upon Mr. Frost.
This attracted the attention of Mr. Travers, who cordially shook hands
with the old gentleman, and after making a rapid survey of his person,
said, “Wh-why, Mr. Frost, wh-wh-what beautiful white hair you have; what
a su-su-superb blue n-n-necktie you wear; what a m-m-mag-magnificent red
nose you have got. If I had s-s-seen you as I do now in w-w-war times, I
should have taken you for a p-p-perfect p-p-patriot, red white and
blue.”
THE DEATH OF TRAVERS.
The foregoing reminiscences of Travers were written and stereotyped
while the great wit and financier was still alive. I have, therefore,
not deemed it necessary to recast the matter, but consider it sufficient
to add a few of the salient points in Mr. Travers’ character and career,
with more _bons mots_ which the death of this popular man brought out.
He died in Bermuda, March 19, 1887. He had gone there in the previous
November, where he had a residence of his own, in the hope that the
climate might restore him to health, but the malady, diabetes, had got
too far ahead, and, in spite of the best medical skill, carried him over
to the majority. His wit, like that of Tom Hood, did not forsake him
even in his last hours.
While on his death-bed at Bermuda a friend called to see him, and said,
“What a nice place Bermuda is for rest and change.” Travers replied:
“Y-y-yes, th-the waiters g-g-get th-th-the ch-change and th-the
h-h-hotel k-k-keepers th-the r-r-rest.”