HOW FORTUNE AGAIN SMILED, AND THEN FROWNED UPON HIM.
"----Fortune is merry, And in this mood will give us any thing."--_Shakspeare._
"Full oft "tis seen our mere defects Prove our commodities."--_Idem._
"----A motley company, Blacklegs, and thieves, and would-be gentlemen."--_Idem._
"The lottery of my destiny bars me the right of voluntary choosing."--_Idem._
The succeeding stage in the life of my hero and friend, was marked by no very striking or extraordinary event; but the incidents attending it were nevertheless quite characteristic of his varying fortunes. It so happened that in adjusting the results of his mercantile experiment, Mr. Wheelwright became possessed of a questionable claim upon the government, for property said to have been destroyed by the enemy on the northern frontier, during the late war with Great Britain. It came into his hands by way of satisfaction for a debt due from a country merchant; and although the chances were as twenty to one, either that it had already been paid, or that it had no existence in equity, or that even if ever so just, like the claim for Amy Dardin"s celebrated blood-horse, the period of two generations would be consumed in pet.i.tioning for relief, yet he determined forthwith to proceed to the federal capital, and prosecute his suit before the august majesty of the people in congress a.s.sembled. What with boats taken by General Wilkinson for the public service, in his memorable descent of the St.
Lawrence,--for the purpose, among other things, of celebrating Christmas in Montreal--a festival, by the way, which an obstinate enemy would not allow him to keep there,--and buildings so effectually destroyed during an irruption of the British across the lines, that their sites have never been discovered to this day,--all duly set forth in the papers with which he was furnished,--Mr. Wheelwright presented a claim, respectable in amount, which was referred to the proper committee of the "collective wisdom." The hawk-eyed Whittlesey was not then its chairman. In process of time, therefore, the committee reported in his favor; and, in the end, to the astonishment of every body, he succeeded in obtaining it! How, or by what artful appliances, he became thus successful,--and that, too, during the first session,--I have never been clearly informed. It was, however, a winter of great activity and excitement at Washington. A distinguished "military chieftain," flushed with the pride of victory, and crowned with Indian laurels, had suddenly appeared in the capital, to defend himself against charges preferred by the legislative authorities of the nation,--authorities, which he openly derided, and threatened to beard in their own council-chambers;--and it is not unlikely that while some of the members were engaged in studying the arts of self-defence, and others holding with both hands upon the ears that had been openly threatened, the bill for the liquidation and payment of Mr.
Wheelwright"s claims, was pa.s.sed in the alarm and confusion, without observation. It is not impossible, moreover, that as the claimant had resided at Albany, and as the Albanian tactics had not then been introduced into Washington, he might have tried his hand at some of those ingenious devices, of the successful operation of which he had been the silent witness in the pure and incorruptible capital of the empire state.
Be all these matters, however, as they may, it is certain that he succeeded in his application beyond the most sanguine expectations alike of himself and his friends. Thus far, therefore, all was well; a brighter prospect seemed to dawn upon his fortunes; and all would probably have continued well, had he turned his back upon the capital the day after receiving the auditor"s warrant upon the treasury, and hastened home. But the President"s levees were about opening for the season; and two or three of those most insufferable of all c.o.xcombs, the _attaches_ of foreign emba.s.sies,--whisking their dandy rattans and sporting finely curled mustachoes;--who, to his unsophisticated observation, appeared to be men of far greater importance than their less-pretending diplomatic masters,--and who not unfrequently shared oysters with him during the day at Laturno"s, and canva.s.s-backs and champagne at O"Neal"s by night,--persuaded him to remain a few weeks longer,--not much to the advantage of his exchequer, as may well be supposed. Still, as he was not a gambler, and was withal a moral man, no great inroad upon his purse would have resulted from a few entertainments thus bestowed upon his sponging acquaintances,--who, as he really supposed, were reversing the order of the obligation, by the light and flashy touches they gave him of high life in Europe,--relating, with great particularity, their adventures in France,--dining with the Dukes of Chartres and Angouleme, and attending the opera with the Duke of Berry and the Countess de Chausel,--visiting Rome with the grand Duke of Tuscany, and flirting with the Countess Guiccioli, in the absence of Lord Byron,--engaged in the chase with the Percies of Northumberland, or at Almack"s, with the Marchioness of Conyngham,--all of which apocryphal incidents and adventures my simple-minded friend received as sober verity, and felt himself exceedingly edified thereby.
The result was, that Wheelwright whiled away the whole winter in Washington; and it was a marvel, that what between the mid-day dissipation at Laturno"s--that unhallowed den in the base of the capitol, which has proved the grave of so many reputations,--and the suppers at Brown"s and O"Neal"s, he did not quite use himself up. But he escaped in those respects; and notwithstanding his natural indifference to public and intellectual matters, he actually became not a little interested in the great debates on the Seminole war, and the conduct of the commander who had conducted it according to law "as he understood it."
It was during these interesting proceedings that Mr. Wheelwright most unluckily formed two other acquaintances, in the persons of a clever and plausible lottery-broker at Washington, the author of the celebrated parody of "Hail to the Chief," beginning--
"All hail to Ben Tyler, who sells all the prizes," &c.
and the chief manager of the memorable Washington Monument Lottery.
Both were acute, and the manager no less plausible than the vender;--and the easy good nature of Mr. Wheelwright, who was not a little credulous withal, pointed him out as a person whose pockets would not be of difficult access. It is not necessary to descend minutely into particulars in this place. Suffice it to say, that the next ensuing scheme of the lottery promised a capital prize of one hundred thousand dollars, besides one of thirty thousand, another of twenty, with the customary lots of smaller ones; and as my hero had yet a lingering attachment to "CIRCLES," he was very soon persuaded to mount upon the wheel of Fortune. Every body has heard of the honest Hibernian, who, in order to ensure the highest prize, determined to purchase the whole lottery; and although Mr. Wheelwright did not exactly form the same resolve, yet he understood enough of the doctrine of chances, to know, that the more tickets he possessed, the greater his number of chances of obtaining the splendid capital he was seeking,--he stopped not to reflect that the odds were two to one against him for any thing, even the smallest prize, and twenty-nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine to one against him for the great prize, besides the discount of fifteen per centum on the whole.
Forgetting these trifling drawbacks, therefore, he invested the whole of his revenues in the aforesaid lottery; and from that day until the drawing thereof, he lived upon the brightest hopes. The golden shower of the heathen poets, in which Jove once descended, was but a little sprinkle, in comparison with the river of that precious metal, soon to flow into his coffers. But alas! the G.o.ddess, being blind, not only failed to discern his peculiar claims upon her regard, but was cheated herself! A shrewd Virginian dreamed the ticket which drew the hundred thousand dollars, into his own pocket; the manager failed, and thereby turned all the prizes into blanks;--and Mr. Daniel Wheelwright found himself flat on his back, at the bottom of the wheel, when he least antic.i.p.ated such a downfall. He was therefore, on his return to New-York, again in the condition of Bob Logic, "with pockets to let"--or perchance of the poor Yankee, who complained, not without reason, that with him there were five OUTS to one IN, viz: _out_ of money, and _out_ of clothes; _out_ at the heels, and _out_ at the toes; Out of credit, and _in_ debt!
CHAPTER VIII.
HOW AN HONEST MAN MAY GET INTO LIMBO.
"And as for the Bastile,--the terror is in the word.--Make the most of it you can, said I to myself, the Bastile is but another word for a tower;--and a tower is but another word for a house you can"t get out of."--_Sterne._
A stranger in New-York, and even many of its younger citizens, would hardly suppose, from the present appearance of the handsome Ionic temple standing directly east of the City Hall, for what "base uses"
that cla.s.sic edifice was originally built, or for what ign.o.ble purposes it was kept, until within a few years back. Although it may now be justly considered one of the most correct and pleasing specimens of architecture in the union, yet, until the recent transformation of its outward form and proportions, it was one of the most unsightly of buildings. It was not, however, of republican origin--having been erected early in the reign of his late most excellent Majesty, King George the Third, as a place of confinement for such of his refractory subjects as either could not, or would not, pay their debts. And it is no great credit to his Majesty"s successors in the government, that it should not have been appropriated to some other use at a much earlier day. Long did the citizens of New-York pet.i.tion for its removal or destruction, but in vain,--until, "in the course of human events," the public service demanded an additional edifice as a depository for its records. A change from the Boeotian to the Ionic order, and its conversion to a more humane purpose, were then determined upon, not only for the public convenience, but from motives of economy. One of the patriotic members of the city government, distinguished for his enterprise, and his public spirit, undertook the job, and gave to the ancient walls of unhewn stone their existing "form and pressure;"--at an amount, too, not much exceeding, probably, twice the cost of two new buildings of the same dimensions.
Architecture is one of the crowning glories of a city; and nothing more strongly indicates the cultivation of a people, than refinement in this beautiful department of science. "Order is the first law of nature,"
and the utter disregard hitherto paid to all established orders of architecture in this country, is one reason, probably, that we have become such a disorderly people. The taste of the Greeks in the arts has contributed more to their glory than their deeds in arms. The chisel of Phidias carved for him a name of more true renown, than the sword did for Alexander; and the name of Sir Christopher Wren will live as long in English history as the Duke of Wellington"s. Every patriotic Gothamite, therefore, should rejoice at each successive indication of an improvement in architectural taste amongst us. Who knows but the beauty of the new commercial exchange that is to be, will cause gladness to those who wept alike over the ugliness and the destruction of the old! Who knows but that a grinning populace will one day displace the lions grinning from the gutters at the eaves of the new stone church in Duane-street! And who knows but that in process of time, American architects will be found who shall understand the difference between the Composite and the Corinthian, and that a long sperm candle was never intended as a model for a Doric column!
The simple-minded reader who imagines that every narrative, biographical or historical, should read straight on, like Robinson Crusoe, or a speech of Colonel Crockett, may suppose that a digression like this in which I have just indulged, must be wholly irrelevant, in the life of an humble and unpretending individual like Daniel Wheelwright,--but he will soon discover his mistake--with which preliminary flourish, the order of my history is resumed.
It was some four or five years before the change in the _don-jon_ just indicated, that the humble writer hereof was informed by a special messenger, that there was "a gentleman in distress" at the debtor"s prison, who desired to see him. Not for the instant recollecting any friend who was just then in need of house-room at the public expense, the writer was entirely at a loss to imagine who could have requested the interview. But aside from the dictates of humanity, in a country where every Shylock has a right to imprison such of his debtors as may have become too poor to pay in any thing but flesh, it is always wise to answer summonses of this description, since there is no telling whose turn may come next. And besides, if your friend in the bilboes has brought himself thither by his own imprudence, there is a chance that you may have the consolation of seeing him come out a wiser man than he went in.
No time was lost, therefore, in repairing to the sombre and substantial mansion already described. It was during the latter days of the venerable "Poppy Lownds," as the worthy old jailer was called, who for so long a succession of years had presided over the internal police of the prison. He was a kind-hearted old gentleman; and amidst all the storms and vicissitudes of party, was never removed from office during his life-time--for the good reason, probably, among others, that the venerable officer had grown so l.u.s.ty in his place, that it was impossible to remove him out of it, without removing a portion of the prison walls also. Be that, however, as it may, the writer found Poppy Lownds sitting in his big oaken arm-chair, dozing in some pleasing reverie, like a Turk over his sherbet after dinner, or "as calm and quiet as a summer"s morning," to quote a favorite metaphor of the day, in regard to the guiding spirit of an often-killed but still living and breathing "monster." As the writer entered his apartment, he took a long pipe from his mouth with the most easy deliberation, while the last whiff from the aromatic Virginia weed curled upward in an azure cloud, and mingled with the vapor which had preceded it.
Having made known the cause of my visit, in answer to the inquiry as to the inmate of his establishment who had despatched the messenger, Poppy Lownds a.s.sured me that the "distressed gentleman" was a good-looking stranger, with an indifferent wardrobe, and rather out-at-the-elbows like,--dest.i.tute of money, and somewhat in want of a dinner,--but one of the easiest and best-natured prisoners ever committed to his charge, since the evacuation by the British troops, in November, 1783;--an event, by the way, which General Morton will not live long enough to forget, although on every cold and drizzling return of the anniversary, his brigade for three generations past have heartily wished that it had taken place in June, or almost not at all!
The scowling turnkey was thereupon summoned, and the writer was conducted through one dark pa.s.sage and another, secured by bolts and bars enough to have ensured the safe keeping of Baron Trenck, or a second Ethan Allen. At length, ascending a flight of stairs, he was ushered into an apartment, connected with several others, the communicating doors between which were opened for the day, containing sundry sorry groups of inmates, with long beards, and patches upon both elbows, some of whom were eating the soup just received from that excellent charity, the Humane Society--while others were playing at all fours, with cards looking as old and dirty as though first used by the Moabites. Others, again, were engaged at domino; and others still busied in scoring the walls with their pen-knives, or whittling shingles as they whistled for want of thought. These latter were Yankees of course; but an air of idleness and indifference pervaded the apartments, which almost begets a yawn in the remembrance.
When the good Vicar of Wakefield was sent to prison by the villany of Thornhill, he expected on his entrance to find nothing but lamentations and various sounds of misery; but it was very different. The prisoners seemed all employed in one common design--that of forgetting thought in merriment or clamor. My own disappointment was equally great on the occasion I am relating--although there was less of clamor, probably, than that encountered by the Vicar--owing, most likely, to the la.s.situde incident to a fervid sun in July. But in all other respects, the prison scene depicted by Goldsmith one hundred years ago, would have answered very well for New-York in 1821--albeit we discerned not among them the shrewd features of a Jenkinson, and heard nothing of the cosmogony either of Sanchoniathon or Manetho.
Among them all, however, there was not a countenance that could be recognized, and the writer began to flatter himself that he had been called by mistake. It was not so. Turning to a strongly grated window in another direction, whom should he see but his quondam friend Doctor Wheelwright--as sound asleep as though in attendance upon a lecture on the circulation of the blood, in the Medical College! On awaking him from his slumber, he appeared neither surprised nor chagrined at the interview. "The iron had not entered into _his_ soul," whatever might have been the case with others--as may be inferred from the following brief dialogue, in which my friend bore his part with all imaginable _non-chalance_:--
"Ah, doctor, is this you?"
"How are you? Why shouldn"t it be?"
"But pray how came you here?"
"Like most other honest people, for that matter--because I couldn"t help it. But it"s all come of a mistake."
"Why, they have not mistaken you for another man, have they?"
"I can"t say exactly that; but I made a mistake in going into the lottery trade."
"Then you didn"t draw the high prize, eh?"
"No: but I came plaguey nigh it though--three more of the figures would have given me two of them."
"Indeed! you made the mistake in selecting the tickets, then? All you wanted was the right numbers!"
"Exactly so: but it"s no use to cry over spilt milk, you know; and besides, that fellow the manager has failed, so that it"s all blanks and no prizes, and I am as well off as others. But if I could dream as well as that Mr. Clark did, with his eyes open, in Richmond, I should like to go into Yates & M"Intyre"s next scheme. It"s well enough to have honest managers, you know."
"Very true, friend Wheelwright; but even then, it is the last "way to wealth," in my opinion, that any sensible man would take--on calculation."
"Yes: but then it"s well enough to be in luck"s way, _arnt it_?"
It will readily have been perceived from the language and bearing of Wheelwright, that his spirits were far less depressed than his circ.u.mstances. Indeed he was as cheerful and as full of good nature as ever,--indifferent as to the past,--not much troubled at the present,--and yet unconcerned and full of hope for the future.
On making the necessary inquiry into the state of his affairs, it appeared that, not having a superabundance of visible means for his support, his landlord, on hearing that he had missed drawing the high prize, had very unkindly seized upon his clothes for his board, and shut him up so that he could earn nothing to pay the balance. But, so that it is a part of the contract that in default of the payment of a debt, the delinquent promises to go to jail, it is all right. The wisdom of sending him there, is another matter, which there is not time now to discuss, and we proceed. My friend"s object in sending for me, was merely to obtain the means of procuring "a little something to eat," since his only food for the week preceding had been given him by one of the prisoners--a venerable man, with snow-white hair, who had been an inmate of the prison upward of thirty years, and who, to the day of his death, refused to leave the prison, although the creditors who had imprisoned him, had long since paid the debt of nature. If deeds of charity, or the voice of mercy, or the requirements of business, have in former days called any of the readers of these pages to the old prison, they will remember this ancient prisoner. The old man had perhaps read the pathetic tale in the school-books, of the aged prisoner released from the Bastile, and he cared not to return to a world by which he was unknown, or had long since been forgotten. If, perchance, any of those whom he had once taken by the hand, were yet on the stage, their chariot-wheels might roll too fast to enable them to recognize the poor old man by whose early patronage they had been enabled to purchase their equipage. He therefore preferred the cold victuals of his prison-house, to the cold charities of the world.
Wheelwright had already taken the preliminary steps to procure relief under the insolvent law. He should soon be discharged from jail "by order of the honorable Richard Riker;"--and as "the world owed him a living," he was quite confident of doing well enough yet.
All that was necessary for his comfort was of course done for him, and at the time appointed, he was discharged from prison in due course of law--free from debt--and the wide world all before him where to choose.
His clothes were redeemed from the landlord; and setting his face northward, he departed, in the first steamboat, for the ancient city of Albany, and to revisit the scenes of his youth in the valley of the Mohawk.
CHAPTER IX.
AN ILl.u.s.tRATION OF THE SUBLIME AND BEAUTIFUL.
"Who can speak broader than he who has no house to put his head in?"--_Shakspeare._