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The Romance and Tragedy

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[Illustration: THE WOMAN]

THE ROMANCE AND TRAGEDY OF A WIDELY KNOWN BUSINESS MAN OF NEW YORK

BY HIMSELF (WILLIAM INGRAHAM RUSSELL)





TO MY WIFE
Who, after more than forty years of married life,
is still my sweetheart




TO MY READERS



A true story of a life I give you; not in its completion, for it
is still unfinished. The romance of youth has lingered through all
the later years and the tragedy of these years could not destroy
it. In the manuscript tears have fallen on some pages, smiles
on others, and still others have been scorched with the fire of
indignation.

Why is it written? To bear testimony to the love and devotion of a
noble woman; to set straight before the world certain matters now
misunderstood; to give evidence of the insincerity of friendship
that comes to one in prosperity only to vanish in adversity; and
also, in the hope that an appreciative public will buy the book.

Not all the names used are fictitious, and where they are so, no
effort has been made to conceal identity.


No spirit of malice has animated the writer. Although his wounds
have been deep he knows now no feeling save sorrow and regret that
they should have been inflicted by his "_friends_"

WILLIAM INGRAHAM RUSSELL.

February 1, 1905.




AUTHOR'S NOTE TO SECOND EDITION



This narrative, first published in an author's autograph edition,
limited to one thousand copies, was privately circulated, the entire
edition having been sold by the author through correspondence.

A second edition is now offered to the public. The original narrative,
except for the correction of a few minor errors, is unchanged, and
added to it are two chapters disclosing a remarkable sequel and
also setting forth a lesson for the younger generation of business
men, showing clearly how different would have been the conditions
had my wisdom come before my experience.

This latter chapter was written at the suggestion of an eminently
successful New York business man, president of one of the largest
and oldest concerns in the United States.

WILLIAM INGRAHAM RUSSELL.
"CHESTNUT RIDGE"
Jessup, Maryland,

February 15th, 1907.




AUTHOR'S NOTE TO THIRD EDITION



Why is it published?

The second Edition--long out of print, still orders that could not
be filled were continually received. These have come from nearly
every State in the Union and as the book has never been advertised
other than by press reviews and the favorable comment of readers,
this demand means something.

Perhaps if you read the narrative you will discover the answer.

WILLIAM INGRAHAM RUSSELL

CALVERT BUILDING,
Baltimore, Maryland,

August 23rd, 1913.




CONTENTS



CHAPTER

I The First Round of the Ladder
II I Meet My Affinity
III A Co-Partnership Dissolved
IV And the Answer Was "Yes"
V Wedding Bells
VI A First Reverse of Fortune
VII The Coming of the Stork
VIII The New Partner
IX Suburban Life
X My Partner Retires
XI A Year of Sunshine
XII An Ideal Life
XIII Prosperous Days
XIV Near the Dark Valley
XV A Successful Maneuver
XVI "Redstone"
XVII Our Neighbors
XVIII An Uneventful Year
XIX The Stream Broadens
XX Retrogression
XXI The Dam Gives Way
XXII The Calm Before the Storm
XXIII "A Few Weak French Speculators"
XXIV Exciting Times
XXV "Come and Dance in the Barn"
XXVI An Importer and Dealer
XXVII Sad Hearts at Knollwood
XXVIII New Faces
XXIX A Short Year and a Merry One
XXX A Voucher
XXXI Two Sides to the Question
XXXII The Panic of Ninety-Three
XXXIII Farewell to "Redstone"
XXXIV A Summer on the Sound
XXXV Monmouth Beach
XXXVI The Ship Founders
XXXVII The Family and Friends
XXXVIII "W. E. Stowe & Co., Incorporated"
XXXIX The Struggle Commenced
XL The Struggle Continued
XLI Darkness Before the Dawn
XLII Brighter Days
XLIII Smooth Sailing Into Rough Waters
XLIV The Tyranny of the Jury Law
XLV Bitter Trials
XLVI At the Brink of the Grave
XLVII Again at the Helm
XLVIII A Nightmare
XLIX Retrospection
L A Dream
LI "From God and the King"
LII A Foundation Principle




ILLUSTRATIONS



The Woman
Portrait
"Sunnyside"
"Redstone"
"Redstone"--Library
Off for a drive
Eighty-sixth Street and West End Avenue
"Redstone"--The Hall
"Chestnut Ridge"
"Chestnut Ridge"--Library




[ILLUSTRATION: The Author]

[His Signature]

August, 1913




CHAPTER I

THE FIRST ROUND OF THE LADDER



NEW YORK, February 23, 1866.

"Master Walter E. Stowe:

"If you have not yet procured a situation, please call at my office,
45 Duane Street, and oblige.

"Yours truly,

"JNO. DERHAM,
"Per T. E. D."

This letter came to me in response to my application for a
situation as an office-boy. I had replied to the advertisement in
the _Herald_, without consulting my parents, knowing they would
raise objections to my leaving school.

My father, one of New York's old-time shipping merchants, running
a line of packets to Cuban ports, had failed in business as a result
of losses during the war, the crowding out of sailing vessels by
steamers, and unfortunate outside investments.

It did not require great discernment to see the necessity of my
giving up all idea of going to Columbia College, for which I was
preparing, and thus, before I was sixteen years of age, I commenced
as an office-boy at a salary of three dollars per week. The position
in those days was vastly different from what it is to-day. The
work now done by janitors and porters fell to the office-boy, and
my duties included sweeping and dusting the office, cleaning windows,
and in winter making fires.

This work, menial and distasteful as it was to the boy brought up
in luxury, was cheerfully undertaken, and it is only referred to
here to show that my start was from the first round of the ladder.

My employer, a north of Ireland man, though frequently brusque with
others, often to the detriment of his own interest, always treated
me with consideration and probably my life at the office ran as
smoothly as that of any lad in similar position. The only other
employee was a younger brother of Mr. Derham, who was taken in as
a limited partner shortly after I was employed. The firm carried on
a brokerage business, requiring no capital, and stood in the trade
as well and perhaps a little better than any of its competitors,
of which there were but few.

Much of the business done by the firm consisted in the execution
of orders for out-of-town dealers and consumers, but by far the
greater volume comprised the negotiations carried on between the
different importers and dealers of New York.

The entire business of the United States, in their line of trade,
was practically controlled by these importers and dealers. The
characteristics of the trade as they existed then, exist to-day.
A few of the old firms have gone out of existence through failure
or liquidation, and some accessions have been made, chiefly of
foreign blood, but most of the old concerns remain, and though the
personality of these has changed, through the departure of many on
the long journey and the taking of their places by their successors,
the same spirit that was in evidence in the years immediately
following the war, animates the trade to-day.

Admitting that sentiment has no place in business and brotherly
love is not to be expected amongst business competitors, I feel
safe in saying that in no other trade has jealous rivalry so nearly
approached to personal animosity.

Preeminent in the trade stands a firm with name unchanged for
three generations, of world-wide reputation for its wealth and the
philanthropy of its individual members, past and present, all of
whom have been prominent in New York's religious and social life.
Another firm only a few years ago discontinued a custom of hanging
on the walls of its offices scriptural texts. Of still another
firm, the most active member is a leader of Brooklyn's annual
Sunday-school processions, though he prides himself on his cold
blood, and before leaving his home in the morning to go to his office
replaces his heart with a paving-stone. But why go on? Suffice it
to say that the trade is eminently respectable and rich, in some
instances possessed of enormous wealth, and this is the trade in
which I began my career.

My office life for the first two years was routine and devoid of
excitement, except for occasional strenuous experiences the result
of Mr. Derham's brusqueness and quickness to resent anything that
he deemed an attempt to take advantage of, or put a slight upon him.
He was the sort of man that makes a steadfast friend or a bitter
enemy, with no room for anything in between.

"Walter, take this contract to Winter and bring me his acceptance,"
said Mr. Derham on one occasion, when, having made what in those
days was considered a large sale, he was feeling particularly
good-natured over it.

"Yes, sir," I replied, and was off at once, little knowing the
reception awaiting me in the Beaver Street office of Rudolph C.
Winter.

On entering the office I approached Mr. Winter's desk and handed
him the contract. He glanced at it, and then all the nervous
irritability for which that individual was noted came to the surface
at once. Springing up from his desk, upsetting the chair in his
haste and rushing toward me, he shouted:

"Here! take this back to Mr. Derham; tell him I won't have it!
I didn't sell it; get out!" And pushing me across the office, he
opened the door and thrust me into the street, throwing after me
my hat, which had been knocked from my hand.

It did not take me long to get back to Mr. Derham and give him an
account of what had occurred.

In a fury he put on his hat, and saying "come with me," we walked
rapidly to Winter's office. Entering the door with blood in his
eye, Mr. Derham stepped up to the still wrathful merchant.

"Winter, I understand you decline to accept this contract."

"But," began Winter, when down on the desk came Mr. Derham's clenched
fist.

"No explanations now; sign first, and then after you have apologized
to my messenger, who is my representative when I send him to you,
perhaps I'll listen, and I am not sure I will not give you a good
thrashing afterwards."

The fury of Winter disappeared and in its place there was a very
mild spring. He signed the contract, told me he was sorry he had
been so hasty, and when I left them he was trying to pacify Mr.
Derham.

On another occasion, Mr. Brightman, of Brightman & Smart, a dignified
gentleman at that time acting as consul for the Netherlands, called
at the office.

It appeared he had made a sale which he regretted and he called to
have it cancelled, claiming that he had been induced to make the
sale through the alleged misrepresentation by Mr. Thomas Derham,
of certain features of the market.

The argument became heated and Brightman called Thomas a liar.
His brother looked at him in silence for a moment, long enough
to discover that he was lacking either in pluck or inclination to
resent the insult, then springing at Brightman he literally threw
him out of the office.

These scenes, though not of daily occurrence, were frequent enough
to relieve the monotony of office life and at the same time to give
me a wholesome fear of incurring my employer's displeasure.

In the summer of 1868 Mr. Thomas Derham was married. For some
reason unknown to me his brother did not approve, and a little
later differences arose between them, the friction increasing until
finally a separation of their business interests was agreed upon.
Mr. Thomas Derham launched out on his own account, and the competition
between the brothers became a bitter warfare, all personal intercourse
ceasing.

At this time my salary was seven dollars per week, and Mr. Derham,
after the dissolution of partnership with his brother, advanced it
to ten dollars.

As he was my only employer and there were no further advances later,
this is the largest salary I was ever paid.

How large it looked to me then I remember well, and although matters
had gone from bad to worse at home and most of my earnings had to
contribute to keep the pot boiling, it seemed to me as if I were
rich the first Saturday night I carried home the ten-dollar bill.

From this time my position in the office became more dignified. A
woman was employed to do the cleaning, and Mr. Derham delegated to
me the placing of many of the smaller orders and occasionally sent
me on business trips to near-by cities.

I worked hard and faithfully to make my services valuable.
I kept the books, made collections, attended to a portion of the
correspondence, and it was not long before I had acquired a thorough
knowledge of the methods of doing the business and was able to carry
out transactions to a finish without having to consult my employer.

In October, 1870, Mr. Derham told me he had decided to give up the
business and accept an offer which had been made him by one of the
large importing firms, to go to England as its foreign representative.

He proposed that I take his business, paying him for the good-will
twenty-five per cent of the profits for three years.

As I was not yet twenty years of age, he thought me too young to
assume the business alone, and advised a partnership on equal terms
with a Mr. Bulkley, then doing a brokerage business in a line that
would work in well with ours, it being his idea to combine the two.

Adam Bulkley, a tall, handsome fellow of thirty-five, was a personal
friend of Mr. Derham. He was a captain in the Seventh Regiment
and had seen service. A man of attractive personality, he had many
friends and had married the daughter of one of the wealthiest hide
and leather brokers in the "swamp."

I do not know why, but in my first interview with this man I took
an aversion to him. I tried to convince Mr. Derham that I could
do better without a partner, but he thought otherwise, and not
unnaturally, under the circumstances, I allowed matters to take
their course as he planned them, and the partnership was made for
a period of three years.

Early in November Mr. Derham sailed for England, leaving as his
successor the firm of Bulkley & Stowe.




CHAPTER II

I MEET MY AFFINITY



My home was in Brooklyn. On my mother's side the family came from
the old Dutch settlers of that section of Greater New York. My
mother's father was a commissioned officer in the war of 1812. My
father came from Connecticut, of English ancestry. I used to tell
my mother the only thing I could never forgive her was that I was
born in Brooklyn, and I have never gotten over my dislike for the
place, though it is nearly thirty years since I left there.

The family for generations back have been Episcopalians, and from
earliest childhood I was accustomed to attend regularly Sunday-school
and church services.

After my father's failure we moved into a house on St. James Place,
and our church home was old St. Luke's, on Clinton avenue. Doctor
Diller, the rector, who lost his life in the burning of a steamboat
on the East River, was a life-long friend of the family, and my
social intercourse was chiefly with the young people of his church.

Mr. Sherman, the treasurer and senior warden of the church and
superintendent of the Sunday-school, a fine old gentleman, now
gathered to his fathers, was one of Hon. Seth Low's "Cabinet," when
he was Mayor of Brooklyn. Seth Low, by the way, is the same age as
myself, and we were schoolmates at the Polytechnic Institute.

As librarian of the Sunday-school and one of the committee in charge
of the social meetings of the young people, I became intimate with
Mr. Sherman and his family.

On December 20th, 1870, the first sociable of the season was held
and I had looked forward to it with considerable interest, owing
to the fact that a niece of Mr. Sherman, residing in Chicago and
then visiting him for the winter, was to be present. I had heard
the young lady spoken of in such glowing terms that I anticipated
much pleasure in meeting her.

When the evening came and I met Miss Wilson, I must confess I was
not deeply impressed, and I have since learned that the lady, who
had heard much of me from her cousin, Miss Sherman, regarded me
with indifference.

On this occasion, the saying that "first impressions go a great
way" was disproved, for two weeks later, after returning from the
second sociable, where I again met Miss Wilson, I said to my sister,
whom I had escorted:

"What do you think of Miss Wilson"?

"A very charming girl" she replied, and I then told her I had lost
my heart and was determined to win her for my wife.

Miss Wilson was of the brunette type. Her face, surmounted by a
mass of dark brown, silky hair, was most attractive. A clear olive
complexion, charming features, and beneath long lashes, large
brilliant eyes. Her figure, was finely proportioned and graceful.

Endowed with unusual common sense and well educated she was a most
interesting conversationalist, while her voice was musical and well
modulated.

Why I did not discover all these charms on the occasion of our
first meeting I never have been able to understand, unless it was
because our intercourse on that evening was limited to little more
than a formal introduction.

Thereafter, I sought every possible opportunity for the enjoyment
of Miss Wilson's society.

Our acquaintance quickly grew into a friendship which permitted
almost daily intercourse and enabled me to fathom the noble nature
of the girl, and to realize what a blessing would be mine if I
could win her affection.

A girl of strong character, there was nothing of the frivolous about
her. In the frequent informal social gatherings she was always the
life of the occasion, but never did her merriment get down to the
level of silliness. Without a suspicion of prudishness there was
always with her the natural dignity of the true-born gentlewoman.

Of course, it need not be said that Miss Wilson had many
admirers--altogether too many for my peace of mind.

When I would get temporary relief by thinking I was getting the
best of the Brooklyn element, I would suffer a heart-throb because
of news that some flame left behind in Chicago was burning brighter.
When that would dim or become extinguished, depressing news would
reach me from West Point, where Miss Wilson visited her cousin,
the wife of an officer.

Thus I was kept guessing most of the time, and though I could not
but feel I was steadily gaining my way to the goal, I cannot say
that I did not spend many an anxious hour pondering over the other
fellow's chances.

In the early summer Miss Wilson left Brooklyn for a visit to
relatives in Boston.

A few days later I followed her to that city, and her pleasure at
seeing me was so evident, her reception so cordial, that I dismissed
from my mind all fear of my rivals and determined to take an early
opportunity of offering her my hand and heart.

How impatiently I awaited her return. The days dragged along. I
was restless and unhappy. We did not correspond, so there were no
letters to brighten the gloomy days of waiting.

To a small degree I derived some comfort from frequent calls on
Miss Sherman, who was good enough to tell me of her letters from
her cousin and good-natured enough to permit me to spend most of
the evening in talking about her. I was certainly very much in love,
and as the case with most young men in that condition of mind, the
object of my adoration was always in my thoughts.

All things finally come to an end, and early in July Miss Wilson
returned to Brooklyn. She was to remain but a few days before
leaving for a visit in Connecticut.

In the interim I felt I must speak, and yet now that the opportunity
had arrived, what a mighty proposition it seemed.

For days and days I had been thinking of it, at night I dreamed of
it. It seemed so easy to tell the woman I loved, that I loved her,
and yet when the time had come my courage waned. I let day after
day pass in spite of a resolution each morning that before sleeping
again I would know my fate.

I tried to reason with myself.

I knew that my personality was not objectionable. I had lived an
absolutely clean life, had no vices. My associates were of the
right kind, business prospects satisfactory. Why should I hesitate
to offer a hand that was clean, a heart that was pure to the woman
I loved? "I will do it," I said aloud, and I did--that evening.

It was the evening of July 10th, 1870.

The day had been warm and oppressive, but after sundown a pleasant
breeze cooled the air.

As I entered the grounds surrounding Mr. Sherman's home I stood for
a few moments beneath the foliage of his fine old trees, inhaling
the fragrance of the flowers blooming on the lawn.

My mind was filled with a feeling of awe at the great responsibility
I was about to assume.

I had perfect confidence in my ability to care for the well-being
and happiness of the object of my affection. I knew my love was
sincere and lasting, and yet, when I thought of all it meant, to
take a girl from a home in which she was loved and happy, to bind
her to me for all time, to share what might come of good or evil in
the uncertainties of life, it came over me with tremendous force
that if this girl should intrust her heart to my keeping, a lifetime
of devotion should be her reward.

The early part of the evening was passed in general conversation
with the family, and after a little music we were finally left
alone.

The hour had come!

At my request Miss Wilson sat at the piano and played a few strains
of an old waltz we had been discussing. I stood beside her while
she sat there, and in tones trembling with the intensity of my
feelings I poured forth the old, old story. I told her of my love
in such words as I could command in my agitation.

Then, while my heart almost ceased beating, Miss Wilson told me in
the kindest possible manner of her appreciation of the offer and
also of her complete surprise. She said that while she esteemed me
highly as a friend and liked me personally very much, she had not
thought of me as a lover, and that she could not regard me in that
light.

To say that I was crushed by the blow, kindly as it had fallen, does
not express my feelings. When, however, in reply to my question I
learned that there was no one else--that she was still heart free,
I gained courage; and when, before I had left her that evening, she
had consented to leave the matter open until some future time, my
hopes of ultimate success were very far from being destroyed.




CHAPTER III.

A CO-PARTNERSHIP DISSOLVED



Before Mr. Derham had landed in England my feeling of dislike for
my partner had increased materially.

His own business, which had been represented as worth at least five
hundred dollars per month to the firm, was, so far as I could see,
largely a myth.

He had a habit of arriving at the office at half-past ten or
eleven o'clock, and leaving at three. By frequent demands on his
father-in-law he kept himself in funds to provide for his extravagant
living, and it seemed to me his principal object in coming to the
office at all was to meet various fast-looking men who called there
to see him.

To cap the climax, he had a half-patronizing, half-nagging way of
treating me that I simply could not put up with. I was doing all
the business, earning all the money that was made, and this man
was entitled to fifty per cent of the net results. I stood it for
a few months, meanwhile writing fully to Mr. Derham of the position
in which I was placed.

Finally, on the 10th of March, 1871 when I saw on Bulkley's desk a
note for a few hundred dollars, drawn to his own order and signed
by him with the firm's name, and in response to my inquiry as to
the meaning of it, he told me it was a little matter he was putting
through by a friend for his own accommodation, I cut the knot and
insisted on a dissolution of our co-partnership.

I had to pay him a small sum to get his consent, and though I had
to borrow the money to make the payment, I did so rather than have
any litigation, which he threatened.

It was with a feeling of immense relief that I went to the office
the following morning, knowing that I was rid of the leaden weight
which Mr. Derham had bound to me in an error of judgment, which he
readily admitted.

The sign was removed and in its place went up another bearing my
name only.

Although in the trade I enjoyed a fair measure of popularity,
which is the key-note to a broker's success, I found my youth a
disadvantage when it came to seeking important business.

The dealers hesitated to intrust me with the carrying out of large
contracts, while favoring me with the smaller orders. This was
a great trial and I could not but feel it an injustice. Still,
there was nothing I could do except to be grateful for the favors
I received and strive in every way to demonstrate my ability.

Another thing I had to fight against was the questionable methods
of a firm which was my principal competitor.

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