Then I looked at home. The education of our children--my elder son was at Harvard with a liberal allowance; my eldest daughter at Miss Dana"s expensive school at Morristown; the rest of the children taught at home by a visiting governess; the girls taking music lessons--nothing could be done here. The education item was bound to increase materially as the children grew older.
Then I thought of the monthly bills from Altman, Arnold, Constable & Co., Lord & Taylor, and others. How about those? Oh no; I loved to see my wife in her beautiful gowns and as the girls developed into young ladies those bills would grow.
There seemed nothing left but the entertainment of our friends. A large expense, but essential to our pleasure and position in society.
I carried a very large life insurance, but did not for a moment think of reducing that.
Then my thoughts carried me farther. Suppose I could get my expenses down to my income, how about the people we were helping in another way, whose income would be seriously affected by my retiring?
There was one of our friends at Knollwood. He was employed on a moderate salary, and when his wife inherited nine hundred dollars he brought it to me and asked me to make some money for him. Now, as a result, he was living in a house he had bought for eleven thousand dollars and to cancel the mortgage of a few thousand he relied upon me. There were those three old gentlemen in Connecticut whose income from their investment with us was allowing them to pa.s.s in comfort their declining years. Could I cut this off? No; and there were many others.
It was clear to my mind that my labor was not yet at an end. I must still keep at the helm, but I made a resolution that on my fiftieth birthday I would retire.
CHAPTER x.x.xII
THE PANIC OF NINETY-THREE
In the year 1893 there was one great controlling feature in our market that was to culminate on July first.
For years the commodity in which we dealt had been duty free. The McKinley Tariff Bill imposed a duty of four cents per pound, to go into effect on July 1, 1893, for a period of two years. It was the one senseless clause in an otherwise excellent bill and had been inserted as the only means of securing the necessary votes in the Senate. The sole object of the clause was to influence the speculative value of shares in a certain corporation which is now in the hands of a receiver.
When this corporation was first organized I subscribed for some stock and was in its first board of directors and its vice-president.
If there was to be a new source of supply of the commodity I dealt in so largely, it was important I should know of it. As soon as I became satisfied that it was nothing but a scheme to make money by the sale of stock, I resigned and disposed of my holdings to one of the promoters at a profit of eight dollars per share.
Efforts to have the clause repealed had been unsuccessful, and as the duty was certain to be imposed, we thought it wise to import largely prior to July first. Others did the same, and when that date arrived the stock in New York was very large. We held on our own account about one-third of the entire stock and in addition a very large quant.i.ty which we had sold to our customers for delivery in July.
Of course, our purchases had been made of our London friends, and during this period our remittances were unusually large, running into several millions. An incident of our correspondence at that time was a postscript in one of their letters calling our attention to the fact that the letter from us, to which they were then replying, had been underpaid in postage and cost them six pence.
They requested us to see to it in future that our letters were properly stamped. Think of that, from a concern with whom we were doing a business of millions!
Early in July came the panic. It seemed as if over night all the money in the country had disappeared. In Wall Street fabulous rates were bid for money. Banks and bankers said they had none. Where was it?
When the stock market collapsed and values had depreciated hundreds of millions, money was found by the large insurance companies and the powerful factors of Wall Street to pick up the bargains in shares, but it was some time before merchants could get it. Meanwhile, this cla.s.s all over the country, after a long period of good times, were caught by the panic with their lines greatly extended. Great houses rating "a million and over" had no actual cash. Property?--Lots of it. Solvent?--Absolutely so, but they could not pay their obligations, nor take deliveries on contracts that required payments against delivery.
Our sales for July delivery amounted to nearly a million of dollars; less than fifty thousand was taken according to contract. The rest we had to carry and our bankers had to carry us. We shall never cease to be grateful for the generous help they gave us in that critical period.
Under these financial conditions it was only natural that all merchandise markets should be greatly depressed.
Our market was weak at eighteen cents, although not a pound could now be imported below twenty-two cents. The large stock seemed to hang as a wet blanket, but as a fact most of it was concentrated in three strong hands. We were the largest holders. I called on the other two and told them it was absurd to sell at the ruling price, and if they would a.s.sure me we would not have to take their stock--in other words, if they would hold it off the market--we would buy the floating lots and advance the price close to the importing point. I further offered to give them an equal share of the purchases if they so desired. They asked how much I thought we would have to buy? To which I replied, "Not over five hundred tons."
The agreement was made on the basis of an equal division of the purchases. Slowly but steadily we raised the price, and when the end we sought was accomplished we had bought four hundred and ninety tons. The operation and consequent advance in the market made a difference in the value of our holdings of seventy thousand dollars.
CHAPTER x.x.xIII
FAREWELL TO "REDSTONE"
All through the summer of 1893 we had been discussing the advisability of leaving "Redstone" and taking up a permanent residence in New York.
Our children were now at a period when good schools were imperative for their proper education, and such did not exist at Knollwood.
Our social life was almost entirely with our New York friends, and though two families of the "Immortal Ten" had become residents of Knollwood they were to leave at the end of the term for which they had rented. The Banfords occupied "Sunnyside," while George Lawton, who had removed to Orange, rented his house to the Todds.
While we were fond of all the New York friends and especially so of Will Curtice and his wife, for George and Charlotte Todd we had a tender spot in our hearts that none of the others quite reached.
George, in a way, reminded me of my former friend, Frank Slater; not that he resembled him in feature, but in his possession of a charm of manner that won everybody with whom he came in contact.
Versatile, witty, and brilliant in his entertaining power, he was easily the most popular man in our circle. Entering the employment of New York"s greatest life insurance company as an office boy, he is today one of its vice-presidents, and this proud position is the well-deserved reward of wonderful ability. His wife is one of those sweet, pretty, clever women that everybody loves.
Ned Banford had met with disaster. He was one of many who were unable to weather the panic. At the time of his failure he was indebted to me five thousand dollars. A day or two before the event he brought me a package of unset pearls which he valued at eight thousand dollars and requested me to hold them as security.
Mr. Viedler, who also was a creditor, was abroad. As soon as he learned of the failure he returned to New York and advanced a considerable sum of money to enable Ned to make a settlement with his merchandise creditors. This took considerable time, and meanwhile I required in my own business the use of all my resources. I told Ned if he could not arrange to repay me I would be forced to sell the pearls, and suggested taking them to Tiffany, where I was well known, and asking them to make an offer. To this he strongly objected, and much to my surprise, in view of all that I had done for him, exhibited a good deal of ill-feeling toward me for taking such a position. I remained firm, however, and fixed a date beyond which I would not wait. The day before the specified time Ned brought to my office Mr. Viedler"s cheque to my order for five thousand dollars.
[Ill.u.s.tration: EIGHTY-SIXTH STREET AND WEST END AVENUE]
Throwing the cheque on my desk he said, with a smile, "Here"s your money, old man; now I want you to do something for me. Just give me your note for five thousand dollars payable to Viedler." I said, "Why should I do that, Ned? I am not borrowing this money of Viedler.
This is not to benefit me--it is to help you and save those pearls."
"Yes, I know," he replied, "but Viedler is a queer sort of chap.
He has been putting up a lot of money for me. He wants this done this way and I want to humor him. It will help me and won"t hurt you. Payment will never be demanded of you." I asked him if Mr.
Viedler was fully informed on the matter and knew what my position was. He replied, "Yes, I have told him all about it." I then gave him the note. The sequel to this incident will come in a later chapter.
As a final result of our summer"s deliberation we leased a house at Eighty-sixth Street and West End Avenue and by the first of October had become settled in our new home; the horses we took with us but the ponies were sold. The children had outgrown them. "Redstone"
we closed for the winter. In the spring I offered it for rent and quickly found a good tenant in the agent of the Rhinelander estate.
Our four daughters were entered at the school of the Misses Ely on Riverside Drive and made rapid and satisfactory progress in their studies.
As soon as we had become thoroughly accustomed to life in New York I think every member of the family was glad of the change. The children made many pleasant friends, enjoyed their school life, their Sat.u.r.day matinees and drives in the park, and not one of them would have liked to return to Knollwood.
As for my wife and myself, our enjoyment of the life was beyond question. We had always been fond of the theatre and now we saw everything worth seeing. We had a delightful circle of friends whom we were meeting continually. Our home was handsome and s.p.a.cious.
Our appointments fitted it beautifully and every room in the house, from the billiard-room in the bas.e.m.e.nt, up through the four stories was very attractive.
Every pleasant morning I drove the T-cart or tandem through the park to the Fifty-eighth Street Elevated station, and in the afternoon, with the brougham, after calls or shopping, my wife would meet me.
When there was sufficient snow to permit it we would have out the large sleigh, and with four-in-hand or three abreast derive keen pleasure from our drive.
For clubs I had little use, though a member of several. For many years I went to the Down-Town a.s.sociation for luncheon and occasionally after the theatre took my wife to the ladies" dining-room in the Colonial Club for a supper; as a rule, however, we went for these suppers to the Waldorf, where we usually met friends.
With our life in New York commenced a closer intimacy with the Caines, though not of our seeking. They lived nearer to us than any of our friends and their informal calls became very frequent.
In a way we liked them. They were chatty, sociable people, though a little too much inclined to gossip. They were not well mated.
Both had tempers and the wife had some money, the husband, little or none; consequently there was friction and they lacked the good taste to confine their differences to the privacy of their own apartments. This was a great drawback to our enjoyment of their society.