always on the watch for an opening. About the time he became the head of
the public school we have referred to, he commenced to engage in various
ventures of a commercial nature, devoting to them his evenings, and the
hours of the day not demanded by his school.

One of his relatives was a builder, with a fair trade, and had made some
money by erecting houses in New York. Young Stout, who had saved a
little money, proposed to him that they should take out a contract for
building a number of dwellings on the then fashionable thoroughfare of
East Broadway. The elder man was pleased with the plan, and at once
consented to it. The houses were built at a handsome profit; others
followed them, and by attending closely to this business, as well as his
other duties, Andrew Stout, by the time he was twenty years old, had
saved seventeen thousand dollars--a very large sum in those steady-going
days.

He was greatly aided by the custom of doing business on time, which
then prevailed, but he never allowed one of his notes to be protested,
and never asked for an extension. When he began business, he did so with
the firm resolve that he would conduct his most insignificant
transaction as a Christian man of honor. If he could not make money
honestly, he would remain poor. Every body saw the energy and judgment
with which he conducted his affairs, and the strict integrity which
marked them all, and he was not long in building up a reputation as a
business man of which any one might have been proud. The promptness and
apparent ease with which he met every contract, and took up every note,
caused it to be generally believed that he was a very rich man. Further
than this, it was known that he was a zealous and earnest Christian, one
who carried his religion into his business, and who lived up to his
professions. He was an active member of the Methodist Church, and the
business man of the congregation to which he belonged. In his hands its
finances prospered as they had never done before. Such was the
reputation of this young man, who had not yet attained his majority.

He held his position in the public school for several years after his
appointment to it, but the requirements of his business at length
compelled him to relinquish it.

In the midst of his prosperity Mr. Stout made one mistake. A friend with
whom he had been interested in building wished to procure some money
from the bank, and Mr. Stout was induced, with considerable reluctance,
to indorse his note for five thousand dollars. One false step in
business, as in other affairs of life, leads to another, and, in order
to save this money, Mr. Stout was forced to renew his indorsements until
his liabilities amounted to twenty-three thousand dollars. To his dismay
he was now informed by the builder for whose sake he had incurred this
risk, that he (the builder) had failed, without making provision for the
payment of the notes, and that Mr. Stout would have to account to the
bank for them.

"Several methods of relief were open to Mr. Stout. He was worth
seventeen thousand dollars, which he had earned by nights of toil, by
economy, and by daily and earnest attention to business. To pay the
notes would not only sweep away every penny that he had, but would leave
him six thousand dollars in debt. He had never realized one cent from
the money, and his name was used simply to accommodate the builder.
Besides, he was not of age, though nobody suspected that fact, and he
could repudiate his debts as a minor. He took no counsel, made no
statement of his affairs to any one, shut himself up in his own room,
and considered thoughtfully what he should do, and then followed out the
decision that he had reached. Having become bankrupt in money, he
concluded he would not be so in character. He had earned seventeen
thousand dollars, and could earn seventeen thousand dollars more. He did
confide in one friend. He went to a relative, and asked him to lend him
six thousand dollars, the sum necessary to take up all the notes. The
relative was astonished at the request, and insisted upon knowing the
facts in the case. Mr. Stout made a full and frank statement. It was met
with the remark, 'Well, Andrew, I thought you would be a rich man, but
if this is the way you do your business, you will never be worth any
thing,' But Mr. Stout did not want preaching, he wanted money; and as
the relative seemed to hesitate about loaning the money, as no security
was offered, Mr. Stout curtly told him he could do as he pleased about
it; he could get the money somewhere, and pay the notes. The money was
promised, and he went on his way.

"The bank watched the young financier with a great deal of interest.
The whole matter had been discussed often in the bank, and the wonder
was how young Stout would meet the blow. It was supposed that he would
ask for an extension; and it was agreed to give it to him, and to make
the time of payment convenient to his ability. Had he proposed to
compromise the matter by paying one-half, the bank would have accepted
it. That would have left him a capital of nearly eight thousand dollars
for a fresh start. Had he offered his seventeen thousand dollars on
condition that he was released from all liability, the notes would have
been canceled with alacrity. He did neither. He proposed no compromise,
asked no extension, and attempted to negotiate no settlement. When the
first note became due, he paid it. He did the same with the second and
third. After the third payment, he was called into the office of the
president. Reference was made to the notes, and to the fact that he had
obtained no benefit from the money. The president told him the bank was
ready to renew the notes, and to give him any accommodation that he
might ask. Mr. Stout simply replied that the blow was a heavy one, but
that having assumed the obligation, he should discharge it; that he
asked no favors, and as the notes matured he should take them up. He
paid every dollar due, and every one was certain that his wealth must be
very large. His manliness, pluck, and integrity, which carried him
through that crisis, became the sure foundation-stone on which his great
fortune was laid. He took the front rank among successful financiers,
and his honorable course in that crisis established his fame as an
honest man, in whom it would be safe to confide. Years of earnest and
active business life have not changed that character, nor allowed a blot
or stain to cloud that reputation."[A]

[Footnote A: Matthew Hale Smith.]

Some years later, Mr. Stout became a merchant. He established a
wholesale boot and shoe store, and engaged actively in that business. He
brought to his new calling the energy, prudence, and integrity which had
distinguished him all through his life, and was successful from the
first. He worked hard. His business hours were from seven in the morning
until six in the evening. During his busy season, four months in the
year, he worked until ten, and often until twelve, paying his employés
extra wages for labor performed after the regular business hours.
Sometimes he worked until four in the morning, but that did not deter
him from being in the store at the usual hour for opening. He was always
the last to go home, never leaving the store until the business of the
day was over and the house was closed. He extended his operations into
dry goods, meeting with equal success in this department. As his
business expanded, he was compelled to form various partnerships, but in
all these arrangements he reserved to himself, like Stewart, the
exclusive management of the finances.

About eighteen years ago, the shoe and leather merchants of the city
decided to organize a bank, in which their interests should be the
principal consideration. Mr. Stout engaged in the effort with great
enthusiasm, and the Shoe and Leather Bank of New York was at length
organized under the most auspicious circumstances. Mr. Stout was the
largest stockholder in the new bank, and was elected one of its
directors. His influence was potent in directing its first operations,
and the next year he was elected vice-president, in which position he
really had the control of the enterprise left to him. A year later he
was elected president of the bank, a position which he still holds,
being in point of service the oldest bank president in New York. Upon
questions of banking and finance, his views are listened to with great
respect by his associates, who have proof of their soundness in the
splendid success of the institution over which he presides; and it may
be truly said that there are few men in the city who enjoy so large a
share of the public confidence as is bestowed upon him.

As a citizen, he is public-spirited and liberal. Some years ago, he held
the office of city chamberlain, and during his administration of it a
difficulty arose in regard to paying the police force their wages.
Knowing that the men and their families would suffer if the money were
not promptly paid them, Mr. Stout generously advanced the necessary sum
from his private means, looking to the city to reimburse him. In
grateful acknowledgment of this practical sympathy for them, the force
presented him with a handsome testimonial. His fortune is immense, and
is used liberally in behalf of the cause of the Christian religion. His
charities are said to be large, but one rarely hears of them, so quietly
are they done. He is married and has a family.

No man's career holds out more encouragement to young men seeking to
rise than that of Andrew V. Stout. It shows that courage, patient
industry, and business capacity will bring fortune to any honest worker.
His uniform success speaks volumes in favor of a young man's striving to
lead a Christian life in the midst of his business cares and struggles.
God's blessing follows such an one at every step, and he will succeed in
the end, whatever trials may beset his path at first. It is a great
mistake to suppose that a man's success depends on his "sharpness."
Shrewdness is a valuable quality, but it must be coupled with a plain,
practical honesty, or it will amount to nothing in the end. A man must
be faithful to his God if he would have his work stand.




CHAPTER VI.

JONAS CHICKERING.


On Tremont Street, in the City of Boston, near the Roxbury line, there
stands an immense building of brick, said to be larger than any edifice
in the United States, save the Capitol at Washington. It is built in the
form of a hollow square, with a large court-yard in the center, and the
building and court-yard together cover an area of five acres. It is five
stories in height on the outer side, and six on the inner, the
court-yard being one story lower than the street. The building is two
hundred and sixty-two feet in length from east to west, and two hundred
and forty-five from north to south, the shorter distance being the
length on Tremont Street. The width of the building all around the
court-yard is fifty feet. It contains nine hundred windows, with eleven
thousand panes of glass, and when lighted up at night seems almost a
solid mass of fire. From five to six hundred men are employed here in
various capacities, and an immense steam engine of one hundred and
twenty horse-power furnishes the motive power for the machinery.
Altogether, it is one of the most prominent and interesting of all the
sights of Boston, and the visitor is surprised to learn that it is due
entirely to the energy and genius of one who, but thirty-four years
previous to its erection, came to Boston a penniless stranger. The
building is the famous piano-forte manufactory of Chickering & Sons, and
its founder was Jonas Chickering, the subject of this sketch.

JONAS CHICKERING was born at New Ipswich, New Hampshire, on the 5th of
April, 1798. His father was a blacksmith by trade, and employed his
leisure time in cultivating a small farm of which he was the owner. He
was esteemed by his neighbors as an upright, reliable man, and prudent
and careful in his temporal affairs. The family being poor, young Jonas
was required to do his share toward cultivating the farm, and received
only such education as was afforded by the district schools in the
vicinity. He was noted at an early age for his passionate love of music.
When a mere child, he learned to play on the fife, and was such a
proficient performer that he was called upon with the town drummer to
furnish music for the militia musters, which were then the pride of the
town. These were happy days for the lad, but his pleasure was marred by
the ridicule which the contrast between his slender figure and the
stalwart frame of the "six-foot drummer" caused the fun-loving
towns-people to indulge in. Soon after this he learned to play on the
clarionet, and when only seventeen or eighteen years old, was so
advanced in his art that he could read at sight music of the most
difficult character.

At the age of seventeen he was apprenticed to a cabinet-maker to learn
his trade, and remained with him for three years, exerting himself to
become thorough master of every detail of the business. Toward the close
of his apprenticeship, an event occurred which changed the whole current
of his life, and placed him in what proved to him the road to fame and
fortune.

One of the wealthiest citizens of New Ipswich was the fortunate owner of
a piano, the only instrument of the kind in the place; but his treasure
was almost useless to him, for the reason that it was out of tune and
seriously damaged in some respects. It had lain in this condition for a
long time, no one in or near the place being able to make the necessary
repairs. In this extremity the owner bethought him of Jonas Chickering,
who had acquired an enviable reputation for skill in his trade, and it
was thought that a good cabinet-maker ought of necessity to be a clever
piano-maker. Young Chickering, thus appealed to, consented to undertake
the task, as much for the purpose of becoming familiar with the
instrument as of earning the sum the owner of it proposed to pay for the
repairs. He had not the slightest knowledge of its internal
organization, but he believed that by patient investigation he could
master it, and he knew that the correctness of his ear would enable him
to tune it. He made a careful study of the instrument and of every
separate part, spent days over the task, discovered the injury and the
cause of it, and not only took the instrument to pieces and restored it
to its former condition, but did his work so well that the piano was
pronounced fully as good in every respect as when it was new. This was
not all. He discovered defects in the instrument which even its maker
was not able to remedy, and his fertile brain at once suggested to him a
plan for removing them.

Here was a chance for him, and he resolved to profit by it. He would
abandon cabinet-making and learn the manufacture of pianos. Then, when
master of his trade, he would make use of his discoveries, and earn both
fame and fortune. When his determination to change his business was made
known, his friends attributed it to his desire to be in the midst of
musical instruments, and where he could gratify his love of music; but
this was only a part of the motive which influenced him. He meant to
rise in the world, and he was sure that he held in his hands the means
of doing so.

In 1818, when twenty years old, he removed to Boston, and obtained
employment with a cabinet-maker. He did this in order to give him time
to look about him, to become familiar with the city and city life, and
to acquire such other information as would enable him to decide upon the
best means of putting his plans into execution. He saved his wages with
the greatest care, and at the end of his first year in Boston had
accumulated a modest little sum, which he meant should support him while
he was learning his new trade.

On the 15th of February, 1819, without the loss of a day, he began work
with a piano-maker.

He had now entered upon what he meant should be the business of his
life, and he was resolved that he would be master of it. From the first
he took rank in his employer's factory as the most careful workman in
it. He spared no pains to make his knowledge full in every detail. Time
was of no consequence compared with knowledge, and he was never anxious
to hurry through with his work. It soon came to be recognized by his
employer and fellow-workmen that he was the best fitted for those
portions of the work upon the instrument which required the greatest
patience as well as the greatest care, and the most difficult and
delicate work was always intrusted to him, his wages being, of course,
in proportion. Other men had no thought but to earn a living. This man
meant to win fame and fortune, and to enlarge the scope of that art to
which he was so passionately devoted. He labored with his mind as well
as his hands, familiarizing himself with every detail of the
manufacture, and devising in silence the means for improving the
instrument and the implements used in its construction. He could afford
to wait, to be slower than his fellows. Every moment spent over his
task made his workmanship the better, and opened to his mind new sources
of improvement. He spent three years as a journeyman, and then went into
business for himself. He associated himself with a Mr. Stewart, under
the firm of Stewart & Chickering.

Fifty years ago the piano-forte was a wretched piece of mechanism
compared with the superb instrument of to-day. It was originally a
progressive growth from the ancient lyre, through the harp, psaltery,
dulcimer, clavictherium, clavichord, virginal, spinet, harpsichord, to
the piano of Christofali in the early years of the last century. At the
period of Mr. Chickering's entrance into business, it was still very
imperfect, and the various manufacturers of the instrument were
earnestly endeavoring to discover some means of remedying the defects of
which they were all conscious. There are four divisions in the
manufacture of a piano, each of which requires great skill and care.
These are: First, The making of the framing and the sound-board; Second,
The stringing; Third, The keys and action; Fourth, The case and
ornamental work. The framing requires strength and simplicity. It is
this portion of the instrument which sustains the tension of the
strings, which in full to large-sized pianos is not less than from six
to twelve tons, and it is a matter of prime necessity that the portions
which serve as a strut or stretcher between the ends of the strings, and
which are to resist this enormous pull, must be made correspondingly
strong and rigid, since by any gradual yielding under the pull of the
strings, their lengths and tensions, and hence their tone, must undergo
proportionate change. In the old pianos, the frames were of wood, and it
was impossible to use any but small, short strings, for the reason given
above. Fullness and power were not to be thought of, and builders were
obliged to confine themselves to securing truthfulness of tone. A
multitude of causes, among which were the changes in the weather,
combined to render it impossible to keep the old-fashioned instrument in
tune. It was this defect which first attracted the attention of Jonas
Chickering, and his first endeavor was to produce an instrument which
would withstand the climatic changes which were so troublesome to the
old ones. He was fully aware of the fact that the piano trade in this
country was then so unimportant that it offered but little inducement to
a man who could manufacture only the old instrument; but he believed
that by producing an instrument of better proportions, and one fuller,
richer, and more lasting in tone, he could create a demand for it which
would insure the sale of all he could manufacture. His hope of success
lay not in the old, but in an improved and nobler instrument. That he
was correct in his belief, the magnificent instrument of to-day which
bears his name, and the lucrative business he has left to his sons,
amply demonstrate. Others besides himself were working for the same end,
and he knew that he would have to bear the test of determined and
intelligent competition. He applied himself to his purpose with
enthusiasm. He carefully studied the theory of atmospheric vibration and
musical combination, as well as an application of the principles of
mechanical philosophy to the construction of the instrument. He went
deep into the science involved in his work, into the philosophy of
melody. Passionately devoted to music, he was ambitious of placing that
which has been so truly called "the king of instruments" within the
reach of all lovers of harmony, and to give them the best instrument
that human invention could produce--an instrument which should not only
withstand atmospheric changes, but which should yield the richest,
fullest volume of melody, with the least exertion to the performer. His
progress was slow, but it was sure. Beginning with an improvement in
the action, he accomplished, in a great measure (in 1838), his plan for
preserving the permanence and purity of the tone of the instrument by
casting the entire iron framing with the parallel bars in one piece.
Iron had for some time before this been in general use for framing, but
the frame was cast in a few separate parts, which were put together by
means of bolts and screws, a plan which is still used to a considerable
extent in Europe. By his plan of casting the frame and its supporting
bars in one solid piece, Mr. Chickering not only prevented the frame
from yielding to the pull of the strings, thus securing permanence and
purity of tone, but was enabled to use larger frames and more strings,
which greatly increased the capacity of the instrument.

Several other improvements were made by him, the most important of which
was the invention, in 1845, of the circular scale for square pianos,
which is now in general use in this country and in Europe. "This consists
in giving to the row of tuning pins and wrest-planks--previously
straight in these instruments--a curved disposition, answering nearly to
an arc of a circle, the advantage being that the strings become less
crowded, larger hammers, and a more direct blow can be secured, and the
tone is both strengthened and improved." With a rare generosity, Mr.
Chickering declined to patent this improvement, which would have enabled
him to drive competition out of the market. He regarded it as so
necessary to a good piano that he declared that all makers ought to have
the use of it, as it would thus be within the power of all persons able
to purchase a piano to avail themselves of it, whether they bought a
"Chickering" or not. Such generosity is too rare to fail to receive the
praise it merits.

Mr. Chickering did not continue long in business with Mr. Stewart. The
latter withdrew in a few years, and Mr. Chickering carried on the
business alone. In 1830 he formed a partnership with Captain John
Mackay, a retired ship-merchant. In the new firm Captain Mackay took
charge of the finances and the office business, while Mr. Chickering
devoted himself entirely to the mechanical department. The operations of
the new house were very successful. The improvements made by Mr.
Chickering from the first created a demand for their instruments which
was sometimes so great that it was difficult to supply it. This demand
continued to increase, until the house was perfectly easy as to money
matters, and able to enlarge its facilities very greatly. It was Mr.
Chickering's design that each separate instrument should be an
improvement upon those which had preceded it, and he was careful that
this plan should not miscarry. In a few years the firm was enabled to
import the foreign materials needed, by the cargo, thus saving the
profit which they had hitherto been compelled to pay the importer.
Besides this saving, they were enabled to keep on hand a large stock of
the woods used in the instrument, and thus it was allowed to become more
thoroughly seasoned than that which they had been compelled to purchase,
from time to time, in small quantities. In 1841, Captain Mackay sailed
from Boston for South America, for the purpose of obtaining a supply of
the woods needed by the firm; but he never returned, and as no tidings
of him or his ship were ever received, it is supposed that the vessel
went down at sea with all on board.

Mr. Chickering now decided to continue the business without a partner.
His friends supposed that in assuming the management of the concern, in
addition to the direction of the mechanical department, and the constant
mental labor to which he subjected himself in his efforts to improve the
piano, he was undertaking more than he was capable of performing. They
feared his health would break down under it. Besides, it was generally
believed that, in spite of Mr. Chickering's undoubted skill in his own
department, he was not much of a business man. He was confident of his
own ability, however, and did not hesitate to assume the new
responsibility.

The business of which he now became the owner was very heavy and
extensive. Soon after the beginning of his connection with Captain
Mackay, the firm erected a large factory for the purpose of carrying on
their business. One hundred hands were employed in it when opened, but
in a few years it was necessary to employ more than twice that number,
so rapidly did the business increase. The supply of materials needed was
ample and of the very best quality, for Mr. Chickering never allowed an
inferior article to be used. The warerooms were large and handsomely
fitted up, and were filled with instruments ranging in price from a
thousand dollars downward. It was generally believed that while Mr.
Chickering's genius had created the demand for the pianos, it was
Captain Mackay's business knowledge and experience that had placed
affairs on their present footing, and when Mr. Chickering proposed to
buy Captain Mackay's interest from his heirs, which was valued at
several hundred thousand dollars, there was a very general belief, which
found expression, that he was incurring certain ruin. The condition of
the sale was that the purchase-money should be divided into
installments, for each of which Mr. Chickering should give his note,
secured by a mortgage on the premises. At Mr. Chickering's request each
note was made payable "on or before" a given day. The lawyer who
conducted the transaction smiled skeptically as he inserted this clause,
and asked the purchaser if he _ever_ expected to pay the notes at all.

"If I did not expect to pay them promptly, I should not give them," was
the simple reply. He was as good as his word. The notes were met
promptly, and although Captain Mackay's family requested that they might
stand as an investment for them, Mr. Chickering took up the last one at
its maturity.

With the business in his own hands, Mr. Chickering continued its
operations, displaying an ease in his mercantile transactions which
astonished and delighted his friends. The business prospered to a
greater degree than before, and all the while Mr. Chickering continued
his labors for the improvement of his instruments with still greater
success than in former years. His pianos were universally regarded as
the best in the market, and his competitors were unable to excel him.
Although conducting a business which required the constant exercise of
the highest mercantile talent, he did not relax his energy in the
mechanical department. To the end of his life, long after he had become
a wealthy and prominent man, he had his own little working-cabinet, with
an exquisite set of tools, with which he himself put the finishing touch
to each of his splendid instruments, a touch he would not intrust to any
other hands.

His competitors did all in their power to equal him, but he distanced
them all. One of them adopted a most startling expedient. He obtained
permission from the Legislature of Massachusetts to change his name to
_Chickering_, and at once sent out his instruments marked with his new
name, his object of course being to deceive the public, and Jonas
Chickering had the mortification of seeing the inferior instruments of
another maker mistaken for his own. He promptly laid before the
Legislature a petition for redress, setting forth the facts of the case
and the motives of his rival. The result was that the Legislature
reconsidered its action, and compelled the bogus Chickering to resume
his original name.

Mr. Chickering was noted for his simplicity and straight-forwardness in
business transactions. Conscious of his own integrity, he listened to no
proposition of a doubtful character, nor would he ever allow his credit
as a merchant to be questioned with impunity. Upon one occasion, he
applied through his clerk to the bank, with which he had dealt for many
years, for an accommodation which he needed. The president of the bank
sent for him, and told him that security would be required.

"I shall give you none," he replied. "I have done my business at this
bank for a long time, and if you do not know me, I shall apply where I
am better known."

The president was firm in his position, and Mr. Chickering applied to
another bank, which readily granted him the desired discount, and to
which he at once transferred his business, which was worth to the bank
about ten thousand dollars a year. Shortly after, a director of the
institution at which he had formerly dealt called on him, and urged him
to restore his business to the bank, assuring him that in future it
would readily grant him any accommodation he might desire.

"No," he replied; "I will deal with no institution which, having had the
opportunity of knowing me, suspects my responsibility."

Again having need of accommodation, he sent his notes for a large sum to
one of the city banks for discount. The president said an indorser would
be required.

"I shall indorse them myself," said Mr. Chickering.

"That will never do," replied the president.

"Very well," was the simple answer, and, without further words, he took
the notes to another bank, which promptly loaned him the money on them.

He tolerated no irregularity in his own business. He was true to the
spirit as well as to the letter of a contract, and never, during the
whole course of his long life, was he guilty of a transaction in which
the most rigid moralist could find a taint of sharp practice. What a
refutation of the theories of those who hold that cunning and trickery
are unavoidable some time in the course of a long and successful
mercantile career lies in the story of this man, who, beginning life
penniless, filled with a burning ambition to be rich and famous, never
swerved from the straight path of integrity, and by the exercise of only
the highest traits of his nature more than realized his boyish dreams!
Ponder it well, young man, and learn from it that honesty is indeed the
best policy in any calling.

Mr. Chickering had married early in life, and now had three sons just
entering upon manhood. These were carefully educated at the public
schools for which Boston is so justly famed, and then put into their
father's factory to learn the mechanical part of the business. It was
the father's ambition to be succeeded by his sons, but he was not
willing to trust the labor of his life to ignorant or incompetent hands.
At the age of seventeen, Thomas Chickering, the eldest son, was taken
from school, and, under his father's eye, taught every detail of the
mechanical branch of the business, until he understood it as well as the
senior Chickering himself. George, the second son, in due time passed
through the same course of training; while Francis, the youngest, was
brought up in the warehouse. The father thoroughly imbued his sons with
his own system and energy, and to-day we see the result. The firm of
Chickering & Sons is still the most prominent in America. Thomas is now
the acting head of the house, and has led it on to continued success;
Francis is the presiding genius of the mechanical department, and has
made many important improvements in the field in which his father won
success; and George exercises a general supervision at the immense
factory in Boston. The mantle of the father has fallen upon the sons,
and his labors have found their highest reward in their success.

Mr. Chickering's good fortune was not entirely uninterrupted. On the 1st
of December, 1852, his factory was burned to the ground, with all its
valuable patterns, stock, etc., involving a loss to him of two hundred
thousand dollars. The interruption to his business was very serious,
apart from the loss of his property. Expressions of sympathy poured in
upon him from his friends, coupled with offers of pecuniary assistance
in his efforts to reëstablish his business. His disaster seemed merely
to inspire him with fresh energy, but the kindness of his friends
entirely overcame him.

[Illustration: "MY MEN SHALL NOT SUFFER."]

He wasted no time in vain regrets, but at once went to work. He was
fifty-four years old, but he showed an energy and determination which
more than rivaled the fire of his young manhood. The loss of his factory
was not only a severe blow to him, but to the three hundred workmen who
had been employed in it, and who were dependent upon their wages for
their support. His first care was to assure them that they should not
suffer, but that they should continue to receive their wages as
regularly as though nothing had happened to interrupt their labor. He
had always been kind and generous to his employés, paying liberal wages,
and rewarding especial merit, but this act of kindness did more to
endear him to them than any previous benefaction. Having provided for
his men, he set to work to prepare temporary accommodations for his
business, and then began his arrangements for the construction of a new
factory. He took a great degree of interest in the plans for the new
building, the architect being almost entirely guided by his suggestions,
and the result of his labors is the magnificent building to which
reference was made at the opening of this chapter. He did not live to
see it completed, however. He died at the house of a friend from the
rupture of a blood-vessel, produced, it is believed, by severe mental
labor, on the 8th of December, 1853. His fortune at the time of his
death was estimated at a quarter of a million of dollars. His sons
assumed the charge of the business, which they still conduct.

The loss of Mr. Chickering was felt by all classes of his
fellow-citizens--especially by the poor. To them he had been a kind and
generous friend. Distress never appealed to him in vain, and he proved a
faithful steward of the riches committed to his care. Yet he performed
his charities with such a modesty and reticence that few beside the
grateful recipients were aware of them. Indeed, it was his custom to
enjoin secrecy upon those whom he assisted; but they would not remain
quiet. His liberality is in striking contrast with the closeness of many
who were worth more than twenty times his wealth, but who lacked his
warm and sympathizing nature.




CHAPTER VII.

NICHOLAS LONGWORTH.


The grape culture of the United States is yet in its infancy. Although
the annual wine product is estimated at nearly three millions of
gallons, there can be no doubt that ere many years shall have elapsed
America will rank as one of the most important wine countries of the
world. California is already extending her vineyards for miles along her
smiling valleys, where the clear sky and the balmy air, which are
unchangeable at the season of the grape harvest, permit a degree of
perfection in the fruit unattainable in any European country. Already
her wines are commanding an enviable place in the markets of the world,
with no apparent limits to the growing demand for them. The hillsides of
the lower Ohio Valley are lined with thriving vineyards, whose rich
clusters of Catawba and Isabella grapes delight the eye on every hand,
and thousands of acres are now given to successful grape culture, where
formerly only a few straggling vines were seen. More than five hundred
thousand gallons of wine are now annually produced in the neighborhood
of Cincinnati alone, and find a market in that city, and what was but a
few years ago a mere experiment is now one of the chief sources of the
wonderful prosperity of the Ohio Valley, and one of the most important
features in the commerce of the Queen City of the West. The success
which has attended this branch of our industry must be a matter of
congratulation to the whole country, and the man to whose courage,
energy, and liberality it is mainly due must be regarded as a public
benefactor.

This man, NICHOLAS LONGWORTH by name, was born at Newark, New Jersey, on
the 16th of January, 1782. His father had been a man of large property,
but in consequence of being a Tory during the Revolution, his
possessions were confiscated, and he and his family impoverished. Young
Nicholas's childhood was passed in indigence, and it is said that he was
apprenticed to a shoemaker, when a mere lad, to learn the trade as a
means of livelihood. However this may be, it is certain that when very
young he went to South Carolina as a clerk for his elder brother. The
climate of the South, however, did not suit his health, and he returned
to Newark, and began the study of the law.

He was poor, and the East was overcrowded, even at that early day, and
offered but few inducements to a young man entirely dependent upon his
own efforts. Ohio was then the "Far West," and emigration was setting in
toward it rapidly. Those who had seen the country related what then
seemed marvelous tales of its wonderful fertility and progress. Few
professional men were seeking the distant land, and Longworth felt
convinced that the services of such as did go would assuredly be in
demand, and he resolved to cast his lot with the West.

In 1803, at the age of twenty-one, he removed to the little village of
Cincinnati, and, having fixed upon this place as his future home,
entered the law office of Judge Jacob Burnet, long the ablest jurist in
Ohio. He soon won the confidence and esteem of his instructor, and
succeeded so well in his studies that in an unusually short time he was
admitted to the bar.

He entered upon the practice of his profession with energy, and soon
acquired a profitable business, which increased rapidly. He was a man of
simple habits, and lived economically. His savings were considerable,
and were regularly invested by him in real estate in the suburbs of the
town. Land was cheap at that time, some of his lots costing him but ten
dollars each. Long before his death they were worth more than as many
thousands. He had a firm conviction that Cincinnati was destined to
become one of the largest and most flourishing cities in the Union, and
that his real estate would increase in value at a rate which would
render him wealthy in a very few years.

His first client was a man accused of horse-stealing, in those days the
most heinous offense known to Western law. Longworth secured his
acquittal, but the fellow had no money to pay his counsel, and in the
absence of funds gave Longworth two second-hand copper stills, which
were his property. These the lawyer accepted, thinking that he could
easily dispose of them for cash, as they were rare and valuable there in
those days. They were in the keeping of Mr. Joel Williams, who carried
on a tavern adjacent to the river, and who was afterward one of the
largest property-holders in Cincinnati. Mr. Williams was building a
distillery at the time, and, as he had confidently reckoned upon using
the two stills in his possession, was considerably nonplussed when
Longworth presented his order for them. In his extremity he offered to
purchase them from the lawyer for a lot of thirty-three acres of barren
land in the town, which was then worth little or nothing. Longworth
hesitated, for although he had an almost prophetic belief in the future
value of the land, he was sorely in need of ready money; but at length
he accepted the offer. The deed for the land was made out in his name,
and the stills became the property of Mr. Williams. The distillery was
built, and its owner realized a fortune; but Longworth did more. His
thirty-three acres of barren land were soon in the very heart of
Cincinnati, and long before his death were valued at two millions of
dollars.

The foresight of Mr. Longworth was fully justified by the course of
events. The growth of Cincinnati was almost marvelous in its rapidity.
In 1802, it contained about 800 inhabitants; in 1810, 2,540; in 1820,
9,060; in 1830, 24,831; in 1840, 46,338; in 1850, 118,761; and in 1860,
just three years before Mr. Longworth's death, 171,293 inhabitants. The
reader can easily imagine the immense profits which a half century's
increase placed in the hands of the far-seeing lawyer. It seems almost
like reading some old fairy tale to peruse the accounts of successful
ventures in real estate in American cities. They have sprung up as if by
magic, and it is impossible to say where their development will end.
Said a gentleman of less than thirty-five years of age to the writer of
these pages, "I am the oldest native-born citizen of Chicago. When I
first saw the light, my native place could not boast even the dignity of
a village; and young as I am, I have witnessed all this wonderful
growth." The prosperity of Cincinnati was scarcely less marked, as the
career of Mr. Longworth shows. The investment of a comparatively
insignificant sum laid the foundation of his fortune, and the first
counsel fee he ever earned, a sum trifling in itself, placed him in
possession of millions.

Mr. Longworth continued carefully to invest his gains in real estate.
The prices paid by him increased, of course, with the rise in the value
of property, but as he was persuaded that the limit had not yet been
reached, he extended his operations without fear of loss. He sold many
of his original purchases, but continued until the day of his death the
largest land-owner in the city. In 1850 his taxes were over $17,000, and
in the same year the taxes of William B. Astor amounted to $23,116. At
the time of his death Mr. Longworth's estate was valued at fifteen
millions of dollars, and is doubtless worth fully one-third more at the
present day.

Mr. Longworth retired from the practice of the law in 1819, to devote
himself to the management of his property, which was already
sufficiently important to require his undivided attention. He had always
been an enthusiast in horticultural matters, and believing that the
climate of the Ohio Valley was admirably adapted to the production of
grapes, had for some time been making experiments in that direction; but
he fell into the error of believing that only the foreign vines were
worth cultivating, and his experiments were unsuccessful. The foreign
grape did not mature well, and the wine produced from it was not good.
In 1828 his friend Major Adlum sent him some specimens of the Catawba
grape, which he had procured from the garden of a German living near
Washington City, and be began to experiment with it in his own vineyard.

The Catawba grape, now so popular and well-known throughout the country,
was then a comparative stranger to our people, and was regarded even by
many who were acquainted with it as unfit for vintage purposes. It was
first discovered in a wild condition about 1801, near Asheville,
Buncombe County, North Carolina, near the source of the Catawba River.
General Davy, of Rocky Mount, on that river, afterward Senator from
North Carolina, is supposed to have given the German in whose garden
Major Adlum found the grape a few of the vines to experiment upon.
General Davy always regarded the bringing of this grape into notice as
the greatest act of his life. "I have done my country a greater benefit
in introducing this grape into public notice," said he, in after years,
"than I would have done if I had paid the national debt."

Mr. Longworth's experiments with the Catawba were highly successful,
and induced him to abandon all his efforts with foreign vines, and
undertake only the Catawba, to which he afterward added the Isabella. He
now entered systematically upon grape-growing. He established a large
vineyard upon a hillside sloping down to the river, about four miles
above the city, and employed German laborers, whose knowledge of
vine-dressing, acquired in the Fatherland, made them the best workmen he
could have. He caused it to be announced that all the grape juice
produced by the small growers in the vicinity would find a cash
purchaser in him, no matter in what quantities offered. At the same time
he offered n reward of five hundred dollars for any improvement in the
quality of the Catawba grape.

The enthusiasm which he manifested, as well as the liberality of his