Chapter V

Hill has opened a wholesale liquor store on his own account! Where did Hill raise the money to start in business—a poor devil who could never get eighteen pence ahead in the world? It does not appear. For one, I will say that Hiram Meeker did not furnish it. He not only belongs to the temperance society, but he believes all traffic in the 'deadly poison' to be a sin. Still where did Hill get the money or the credit to start a wholesale liquor concern? More than this, Hill is doing a pretty large business. Singular to say, he drinks less and swears less than he did. He is more respectable apparently. He has a very fine store in Water street. He does not deal in adulterated liquors. He sells his articles, if the customer desires it, 'in bond;' that is, from under the key of the custom house, which of course insures their purity. By a singular coincidence, Hill's store is adjoining a 'U. S. Bonded Warehouse.' Hill's goods, for convenience' sake, are sent to that particular warehouse—frequently. The liquors are stored in the basement. This basement is not supposed to communicate with the basement of Hill's store. Certainly not. Yet Hill, solus, entirely and absolutely solus, spends many evenings in the basement of his store. Hill is a large purchaser of pure spirits. Pure spirits are worth thirty-one cents a gallon, and brandy of right brand is worth two or three dollars a gallon. One gallon of pure spirits mixed with two gallons of brandy cannot be detected by ninety-nine persons of a hundred. Some say it is equally difficult to detect a half-and-half mixture. Still Hill sells his brandy in bond. I repeat, Hiram Meeker does not furnish Hill the money. It is true, their intimacy still continues. Further, Hill has good references—none other than H. Bennett & Co. Strange as it may seem, H. Bennett himself has been known to put his name on Hill's paper. Yet I am told he does not even know Hill by sight! Hill is making money, though—is making it fast. Hiram is still in the house of Hendly, Layton & Gibb, but this has not prevented him from making, with permission of the firm, several ventures on his own account. These ventures always turn out well. It was not long since he shipped a schooner load of potatoes to New Orleans on information derived from the master of a vessel which had made a remarkably rapid passage, and who reported to him, and to him only. He more than doubled his money on this venture.

In Dr. Chellis's church, Hiram has made respectable progress. He has permitted himself to break over the strict rule first adopted as to his social life. He goes a little into society—the very best society which that congregation furnishes. Report says he is engaged to Miss Tenant. She is the only child of Amos Tenant, of the firm of Allwise, Tenant & Co. This firm is reputed to be worth over a million of dollars. Miss Tenant—Miss Emma Tenant—is the young lady who, from the first, took such an interest in Hiram at the Sunday school. She is an excellent girl. She is very pretty, too, and, I am sorry to say, she seems to have fallen in love—really and positively in love with Hiram. He, the calculating wretch, has canvassed the whole matter, has made careful investigations of the condition of the house of Allwise, Tenant & Co., and has satisfied himself that it is firm as a rock, and that Mr. Tenant is no doubt worth the pretty sum of three hundred and fifty thousand dollars, or such a matter.

Emma is an only child!

Oh, Hiram, how dare you utter those vows of love and constancy and everlasting regard and affection, coming, as you do, with your fingers fresh from turning the leaves at the register's office, where, forgetting your dinner, you have spent the entire afternoon in satisfying yourself about the real estate held by 'Amos Tenant?' Had the record under your precious investigation not been satisfactory, you would not have spent five minutes thereafter in the society of Emma Tenant.

Yet your conscience does not reproach you. No, not one bit. Positively you are not aware of anything reprehensible or even indelicate in what you are about. Thinking of the matter, as you carefully scan the books of record, you regard it precisely as you would any other investigation. To you it is essential that the girl you are to marry should have money. If she has, you will love her (for it is your duty to love your wife); if she has not, you cannot love her, and of course (duty again) you cannot wed her.

Poor Emma Tenant! No protecting instinct warns you against the young man who is now making such fervid protestations. You receive all he says as holy truth, sincere, earnest avowal, out of his heart into yours, for time and for eternity!

You, Emma Tenant, are a good girl, innocent and good: why, oh, why does not your nature shrink by this contact?

We forbear to paint the love scene in which Hiram figures. Enough to say that Emma could not and did not disguise the state of her affections. Yes, she confessed it, confessed she had been attracted by Hiram (poor thing) from the day she first saw him enter the Sunday school to take his place as one of its teachers.

How happy she was as she sat trembling with emotion, her hand in Hiram's calculating grasp, while she blushingly made her simple confession.

'But your father,' interposed Hiram, anxiously—'he will never give his consent.'

'And why will he not?' replied Emma. 'I am sure he likes you already, and when he knows'—

She stopped, and blushed deeper than ever.

'When he knows,' said Hiram, taking up the sentence, 'he will hate me: I am sure he will.'

'How can you say so?' replied the confiding girl. 'I am his only child, and he will approve of anything which is for my happiness.'

'But he may not think an engagement with me (you see Hiram was determined on the engagement) will be for your happiness. I am not known here—am not yet in business for myself, although so far as that is concerned'—

'Don't speak so—it pains me; as if I could think of such things now,' she whispered, as if really in bodily distress.

'But it must be mentioned, and at once; we must tell your parents. It would be highly improper not to do so.'

He meant to make all sure.

'Oh, well, I suppose you are right, but it will make no difference to papa if you had not a penny. I have heard him say so a thousand times.'

'Have you,' replied Hiram, drawing a long breath, 'have you really?'

'Indeed I have. He has always said he would prefer to see me marry a high-minded, honorable young man, of strict integrity, without a cent in the world, to the richest man living, if he were sordid and calculating. Oh, he despises such persons. Now are you satisfied?'

Hiram was satisfied, that is, logically; but somehow he felt a hit, and in spite of himself his countenance was clouded, and he was silent.

'I have said something to wound you. I know I have,' exclaimed Emma.

'To wound me! My angel, my'—etc., etc., etc. (the pen refuses to do its office when I come to record Hiram's love expressions). 'How can you think so at this moment of my greatest rapture, my most complete'—etc., etc., etc. (pen fails again). 'It was my intense joy and satisfaction to learn how noble and disinterested your father is, that rendered me for the moment speechless.'

After considerable discussion, it was arranged that Emma should be the one to communicate to her parents the interesting fact that Hiram sought her hand. On this occasion his courage so far failed him that he preferred not to break the subject himself, although generally so very capable and adroit in personal interviews.

Mr. Tenant, as usual with papas, was a good deal surprised. He had not thought of Emma's marrying—considered her still little else than a school girl, and so on—well—he supposed it must come sooner or later. He knew very little about the young man, but what he did know was certainly in his favor.

To cut the story short, the whole matter was soon pleasantly settled, and Hiram established as the accepted of Miss Tenant.

In a subsequent interview with Mr. Tenant, our hero quite won his heart. That gentleman was an old-fashioned merchant; the senior member of a house known as one of the most honorable in the city. I say senior member, for the 'Allwise' whose name stood first was a son of the original partner through whose capacity mainly it had been built up and made strong. Mr. Tenant, I repeat, was a merchant of the old school, high minded and of strict integrity, not specially remarkable for ability, but possessing good sense and a single mind. The house once on the right track, with its credit and its correspondents established, he had only to keep the wheel revolving in the old routine, and all was well.

Mr. Tenant was quite carried away by Hiram's conversation. The latter was so shrewd and capable, yet so good and honest withal. He first recounted to his prospective father-in-law a little history of his whole life. He portrayed in feeling terms how God had never forsaken, but on the contrary had always sustained and supported him—in his infancy, at school, through various vicissitudes—had conducted him to New York, to Dr. Chellis's church, into his (Mr. Tenant's) family; and now, as a crowning mercy, was about to bestow on him the greatest treasure of the universe to be a partner of his joys and sorrows through life.

Then he discoursed of affairs; of what he hoped with a 'common blessing' to accomplish. He informed Mr. Tenant confidentially that in the approaching month of May he should commence a general shipping and commission business. His plans were matured, and though his capital was small—

'Count on me, young man, count on the house of Allwise, Tenant & Co.,' interrupted the kind-hearted old gentleman. 'I have no boy,' he continued, with tears in his eyes; 'my only one was snatched from me, but now I shall look on you as my son. You will start in May. Good. And what the house can do for you will be done.'

'Then perhaps I may be permitted to refer to you?'

'Permitted? I shall insist on it. What is more, I will see two or three of our friends to make up your references myself. You must begin strong. Where do you keep your account?'

Hiram told him. It was a bank where Mr. Bennett had introduced him.

'That is well enough, but those are dry goods people, not at all in our line. I must introduce you at our bank, or, what is better, I will get Daniel Story to introduce you at his. There you will get a double advantage.'

Need I add that Hiram was in ecstasies? His position would now equal his most brilliant dreams. To be placed at once on an equality with the old South-street houses! To have Daniel Story introduce him to his bank! It was even so. The future son-in-law of Amos Tenant would gain just such an entree to business life.

And profitable use did Hiram Meeker make of these 'privileges.' He no longer thought of depending on H. Bennett & Co. Very quietly he thanked his cousin for his kind offer of assistance by way of reference, etc., but he was of opinion it would be better to have some names in his own line. Then he mentioned who were to be his 'backers,' whereat Mr. Bennett was amazed, yet highly gratified, and, without seeking to inquire further, told Hiram he 'would do,' he always said he would, that he must call on him, however, whenever he thought he could give him a lift, and predicted that he would be very successful on his own account. All which Hiram received meekly and mildly, but he said nothing in reply.

It is not my purpose to give in detail the particulars of Hiram's commercial life. Having been sufficiently minute in describing his early business education, the experience he acquired, the habits he formed, the reader can readily understand that his career became from the start a promising one. He was familiar with all the ramifications of commerce. He thoroughly knew the course of trade in New York. He had studied carefully the operation of affairs, from the largest shipping interest to the daily consumption of the most petty retail shop. He had managed to lay up quite a respectable sum of money, and all he now wanted was a good opportunity to launch himself, and it was presented.

I am inclined to think Mr. Tenant would have been willing to have taken him into his own firm, had Hiram wished, but he had no such ambition. He desired by himself to lay broad and deep the foundation of a large business, and have it expand and become great in his own hands. He did not believe in partnerships; it is doubtful if he were willing to trust human nature so much as to admit anybody to such a close relation as that of business associate.

In the management of his affairs, Hiram made it a point to acquire the reputation of fair and honorable dealing. His word was his bond. That was his motto; and he carried it out fully and absolutely. Mistakes could always be corrected in his establishment. No matter if the party were legally concluded. He stood by his contracts. A mere verbal say so, though the market rose twenty-five per cent. on his hands the next half hour, could be relied on as much as his indenture under seal. And so he gained a splendid name the very first year of his mercantile career. Yet, I must say it, behind all this fine reputation, this happy speech of men, this common report and general character, sat Hiram alert and calculating, whispering to himself sagaciously: 'Honesty is the best policy.'

[In affairs, he meant. Had he carried the apophthegm out into every detail of life, through its moral and social phases, it would have required indeed the eye of the Omniscient to have discerned and penetrated his error.]

I come to the close of Hiram's first year of business on his own account. He had suddenly loomed into importance. But never was there an effect more directly traceable to a cause. He did not embark till he was in readiness for the venture, and results came quickly. With change of position he had made corresponding changes in his social life. He left Eastman's, and took pleasant though not expensive quarters in a more fashionable part of the city, not far indeed from Mr. Tenant's house. He visited in company with Emma all her family friends and acquaintances. He made such progress in the church, that the majority of the female teachers in the Sunday school were in favor of electing him superintendent. In short, he was becoming a very popular young man.

As I have said, I come to the close of Hiram's first year. I wish I could stop here. I go on with that reluctance which I invariably feel when recording what must add to the repugnance with which we all regard Hiram's character.

The engagement between Hiram and Miss Tenant had been made public. The time for the marriage was fixed at about the first of July—only six weeks distant. It was a period when Hiram felt he could leave town most conveniently for his wedding trip. The preparations on Emma's part were ample as became her family and social position. She was very happy. She loved this young man, and believed he loved her. Hiram was good natured and agreeable, and did all in his power to exhibit his best qualities. The result was that he was very much liked by both Mr. and Mrs. Tenant, and was already quite domesticated at their house.

During the spring there was a great deal of speculation in certain leading articles of export. The house of Allwise, Tenant & Co., having first class correspondents abroad and enjoying large credit, advanced more liberally than was prudent. It was the younger members who decided to go largely into the enterprise. There came a panic in the market. Several leading houses in London and Liverpool failed, others in New York followed, and among them Allwise, Tenant & Co.

It proved that this firm, though eminently sound and above board, was not as wealthy as was generally supposed. Its high character for integrity and honor, and an existence of near forty years without a reverse gave it great reputation for wealth and stability.

The blow was sudden and effective. The capital of the concern was wiped out of existence, and the individual property of the partners followed in this wake of destruction.

Hiram, like others, had overestimated Mr. Tenant's property. The latter was nevertheless a rich man for those days, and worth over one hundred thousand dollars. By this reverse he was penniless.

Hiram was on 'Change when he first caught the rumor of the catastrophe. His position with regard to the family (for his relations with it were now well understood) made it difficult for him to make many inquiries, but he hastened to his counting room and despatched a messenger to Hill to come to him forthwith. Hill was prompt, and having been carefully charged with his commission, at once started to execute it. He came back duly.

'All gone to——. Not a grease spot left of them.'

'Don't be so gross, Hill. You are constantly shocking me with your idle profanity. Are you sure, though?'

'Yes. More bills back, twice over, than they can pay. A clean sweep, by——.'

'That will do, Hill—that will do; but don't swear so, don't.'

'Now I am here,' continued Hill, 'what about that invoice of brandy to Henshaw? He declares the brandy ain't right. You know you thought'—

'Hill,' interrupted Hiram, 'I can't talk with you now. Leave me alone, and close the door after you.'

Hill went out without saying a word.

If we except a slight paleness which overspread his countenance, Hiram had exhibited no sign of emotion from the moment he heard of Mr. Tenant's failure to the time he disposed so summarily of his satellite Hill. When Hill left, he rose and walked two or three times quickly up and down the room, and then took his seat again. His thoughts ran something in this way: 'I never supposed old Tenant to have any business ability, but I thought the concern so well established it could go alone. So it could if those young fellows had not made asses of themselves. What's to be done? Tenant certainly has a large amount of individual property. It is worth saving. Respectable old name—if he keeps his money. (Hiram smiled grimly.) I will step round at once and offer my services, before other folks begin to tinker with him.'

On my word, reader, during all this time Hiram never once thought of Emma Tenant. She did not for a solitary instant enter in any of the combinations which he was so rapidly forming and reforming. So entirely was he occupied with canvassing the effect of the failure on his personal fortunes and thinking over what was best to be done under the circumstances, that he had no space in his brain, much less in his selfish heart, for the 'object of his affections,' to whom he was to be married in one little month.

How would she feel? How would the blow affect her? What could he do to reassure her? How could he best comfort her? What fond promises and loving protestations could he offer that now more than ever he desired to make her happy?

Nothing of this, nothing of this occupied him as he sat in his private office, rapidly surveying the situation.

Poor Emma!

Carrying out his decision, Hiram took his way to the establishment of Allwise, Tenant & Co.

He was immediately admitted to Mr. Tenant's private room. That gentleman sat there alone, with his eyes fixed on a long list which his bookkeeper had just furnished him. He looked somewhat disturbed and solicitous, but presented nevertheless a manly and by no means dejected mien.

'Ah, my dear boy, I knew there was no need of sending for you. I knew you would be here. God bless you. Sit down, sit down. I want to use your ready wit just now for a few minutes. Thank God, I have your clear head and honest heart to turn to.'

All this time Mr. Tenant was pressing Hiram's hand, which lay impassively in his. The honest man was too much carried away by his own feelings to notice the other's lack of sympathetic pity.

'Why, my dear sir,' said Hiram, at length, 'did you not give me some hint of this? We might have'—

'I had no idea of it myself till the mails were delivered this morning. Phillipson & Braines's stoppage has destroyed us. Such a strong house as we thought it to be! When they suspended, it discredited us with our other friends, for everybody knew our relations with them, so that they would neither accept our bills nor protect us in any way. We are struck down without warning.'

'No hope of reconstruction?' asked Hiram.

'None.'

'You wanted me just now, I think you said.'

'Yes. There are one or two matters which I am inclined to think should be treated as confidential. Certain collections, and so forth. We have already discussed it somewhat. You shall examine and give me your opinion.'

'Had you not better first make some arrangements to protect your individual property?'

'What?'

Hiram repeated the question, and in a more definite shape.

He was astounded when the honorable old merchant told him that he should make no reservations—that his property, all of it, belonged to his creditors, and to his creditors it should go.

Even in this juncture Mr. Tenant was so taken up with his own position that he failed to discover Hiram's real object. He actually turned consoler.

'Courage, my boy,' he exclaimed. 'My wife has a little sum of her own, about twelve thousand dollars, enough to keep us old folks from starving; and as soon as you are married, we will club together, and live as happy as ever—hey?'

'I hope, after all, matters are not as bad as you suppose,' said Hiram, wishing to make some response, but determining not to commit himself.

'Oh, but they are,' said Mr. Tenant. 'We must not deceive ourselves. However, let that pass. Now tell me what you think about these collections?'

Hiram forced himself to listen patiently to Mr. Tenant's statement, for he had not yet decided on the course he was presently to pursue. So he talked over the question, pro and con, managing to fully agree with the views of Mr. Tenant in every particular.

'I knew you would think as I do about this,' exclaimed the latter, joyfully. 'It does you credit, Hiram. It shows your honorable sense. How could I take that money and put it into the general indebtedness? How could I? Well, well, I have already employed too much of your time. We shall do nothing to-day but examine into matters. You will be up this evening?'

'Certainly.'

'Good-by till then, my dear boy.

Emma must spare you to me for once. To-night we will have our various statements ready, and I shall want your help to look them over.'

'The old fool,' muttered Hiram, as he left the place. 'The old jackass. I won't give it up yet, though. I will try his wife. I will try Emma. No, I won't give it up yet. I will go there this evening, and see what can be done. But if I find that—'

The rest of the sentence was inaudible.