A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P R S T U V W X Z

The Romance and Tragedy

W >> William Ingraham Russell >> The Romance and Tragedy




Backed by a very wealthy concern we tried to get a chance to compete
for the contract with the leading trust, but it was quite useless.
We were told the business could not be given to us, no matter how
advantageous our terms might be, and our inference was that the
object of the trust was not to get the material at the lowest price,
but to give the business to a favored firm without competition.

This large contract naturally excited much interest in the trade
and great efforts were made to ascertain its terms. The generally
accepted theory was that the firm supplied the material as wanted
and the price for each month's deliveries was fixed by the average
of the market for the last ten days of the month. As if bearing
this out it was noted that during the last ten days of each month,
the firm holding the contract did its utmost to manipulate a rise
in price, which would, of course, inure greatly to its benefit.

These changes taking from us the legitimate demand from so many
consumers, made our business far more speculative. Instead of
buying to supply a regular trade, our purchases were made largely
to be resold in wholesale lots to dealers or others, and the profit
would depend on an advance in the market following the purchase.
If the market favored us the business was profitable; if not, then
losses must be met.

At this time we were doing considerable business on joint account
with George Norman, our former clerk. In many of the purchases
and sales we made he had half interest and in the same way we were
interested in many of his operations. This business for many months
proved profitable. Aside from these transactions we both were doing
a good deal of business on individual account, we far more than
was prudent considering our capital, though at that time, in my
anxiety to make money, I did not realize it.

There came a time when, on a small scale, I repeated my error of
1895. The first time it was my misfortune, the second my fault.

For this fatal mistake I have no defense. I should have known
better--but in explanation there is something to say, and while it
is not a defense, it is in a measure some palliation.

There had been a period of inactivity with no opportunity to make
money. My mind was depressed over the loss of legitimate trade
through the trusts and I was harassed by appeals from some of my
moral creditors for help. I felt more than ever before the weight
of my awful burden.

In a recent interview with Mrs. Slater, in which her affairs
had been discussed, I had stated to her my hopes of accomplishing
certain things. A remark she made in reply seemed to have burned
into my brain. Her words were, "To do that you must make money
and lots of it." That was in clear-cut words the task before me.
I "must make money and lots of it." It drove from my mind thoughts
of prudence and safety. I took no account of the risk of my business.
I thought only of the possible profits.

Perhaps I was mad, mentally irresponsible. It certainly seems so
to me now. Possibly I had the fever of a gambler playing for high
stakes. At all events, I plunged to the limit--and the market
went against me. I tried to extricate myself, but too late. It
was impossible. All the capital at my command was lost, and in
addition there was nearly twelve thousand dollars indebtedness on
our contracts in which George Norman had half interest. The horror
that came over me as I realized my awful position I can compare only
to Dante's "Inferno." What should I do? What could I do? I wonder
I did not go insane.

Norman came to my office and tried to encourage me. The contracts
standing in his name had all been settled and he had money left.
When he left it had been agreed that I was to arrange for time for
payment of the differences on our joint-account contracts, and as
opportunity offered he was with his capital to do a joint-account
business with me by which we hoped to make money enough to pay these
differences and recoup my losses. Meanwhile he was to let me have
from month to month what money I would require, above what I could
make myself, to meet my expenses and the payments to Mrs. Slater.

This arrangement gave me a breathing spell. I managed to pull
myself together and go home after the terrible day in a state of
comparative calmness. I could not tell my wife of this new trouble
and I could not tell Mrs. Slater. If my expenses and Mrs. Slater's
payments were provided for why worry either of them? In a few
months, I reasoned, things will come my way again and I will get out
of this awful pit. Meanwhile, I could eat my heart out in useless
regret when alone, but must conceal from all the world my trouble.

I hope no reader of these pages will ever know the fortune of mind
I suffered. It was infinitely worse than any possible physical
torture in the days of the Spanish Inquisition. I once listened to
a sermon on "Hell," delivered by the late Rev. T. DeWitt Talmage.
His word picture of a place of torment was so vivid one could
almost inhale the odor of the burning sulphur and yet the place he
painted was a paradise compared to the hell on earth that was my
portion.

For a few months Norman was as good as his word. He made up the
deficiency in my earnings and continually encouraged me with what
he would do when market conditions warranted operations. Then he
commenced slowly to withdraw his assistance by responding to my
request for money only in part, on the plea that he was himself
hard pressed. I had good reasons for knowing that such was not the
case.




CHAPTER XLIV

THE TYRANNY OF THE JURY LAW



Of course my wife knew I was having hard times, but she had no
idea of my terrible situation. At the end of July, 1901, in order
to reduce our expenses we moved to Plainfield, New Jersey, taking
a small cottage at a very low rental.

Another reason for leaving New York was that I might escape from
jury duty.

This had become a nightmare, and to a man situated as I was it seems
to me the jury law is tyrannical and unjust. My business required
my constant personal attention. There was no one to take my place.
A day's absence meant not only loss of money that might be made
that day, but possible loss of customers through inattention to
their orders and inquiries. I needed every dollar I could make.
The hardship to those dependent on me for support if I were taken
from my business to serve on a jury would be actual--I simply could
not do it.

During the previous winter I had been summoned four times, on each
occasion before a different judge. The first time I called on the
judge in his private room before the opening of the court, and was
excused. The next month I was again summoned. This time also the
judge excused me, but it required much argument to induce him to
do so. The third time it was even more difficult to escape, though
I succeeded again. The fourth time was a rather novel experience. I
shall not forget it, and if that judge reads these pages he will
remember it. I gave him a fright that startled him out of his
dignified composure.

When ushered into his room I found the judge seated at his desk,
there being three or four other men present. They stepped back as
I approached within a few feet of the judge.

In a low voice I explained why I wished to be excused. It was
humiliating to have to tell my story before others and I endeavored
to speak so low they would not hear me.

This judge was of a different type. The others had been most kind
in manner, even expressing sympathy for my unfortunate position;
but this man was brusque and unpleasant. When I ceased speaking he
turned around in his chair and in a loud voice said:

"Oh, no, I cannot excuse you for any such reason." I replied, "Your
Honor, what better reason could I have than those given you"? To
which he answered, "Don't come to me and ask me to give you reasons
for excuse from jury duty. You must serve; we want men that cannot
get away from their business." Then he turned his back on me.

For a brief moment I stood there silent. The judge commenced writing
at his desk. The other men were watching me. I thought of what it
meant in the critical condition of my affairs to take me from my
office for two weeks and the thought made me desperate.

Springing forward, I seized the judge by the arm, and while his
whole body shook with the nervous trembling of my grasp, I shouted
at him: "Do you know what you are doing? Would you put a man who
is almost at the point of nervous prostration or perhaps worse in
a jury box? Do you think I am in any condition to do jury duty"?
The other men gathered around and endeavored to calm me. The judge,
who had risen from his chair, dropped into it again with a frightened
look, and with a voice scarcely audible, said, "Your mental condition
will excuse you," and then asked one of the men to assist me out
of the office. And I needed his assistance. I was so weak I could
hardly stand. I wondered afterwards the judge did not commit me
for examination as to my sanity.

In the name of justice, why should a man be placed in such a
position? Why compelled to humiliate himself by laying bare to any
man, judge though he be, his poverty and then have to argue on that
point as an excuse for not doing jury duty? If a man is prepared
to prove that it would be a serious injury to himself to serve, he
ought to be excused. How could a man do justice in a trial before
him, when his mind is racked with worry over his own affairs? It
is unfair to all--plaintiff, defendant, and juryman alike.




CHAPTER XLV

BITTER TRIALS



With the removal to Plainfield came the commencement of a period
of bitter trial and almost unremitting struggle for existence.

Norman, though he occasionally assisted me with small amounts,
never redeemed his promise to do the joint-account business which
was to pay those debts, as much his as mine, and recoup my losses.
Meanwhile, he was doing well and reported to be making money fast.

The months passed by, and though I managed to make the payments to
Mrs. Slater I was running behind on my bills at the office and at
home. Something must be done. I tried in every way to get Norman
to pay me part of the considerable sum which stood against him on
my books-he was heartless. He knew I would not sue him and if I
did he could keep the matter hanging in the courts for years. Then
I resolved to get some money out of him in another way.

He was accustomed to make certain deliveries through our office,
the payments being made to us. In the next settlement I made with
him I deducted a few hundred dollars, sufficient to pay my most
pressing bills; and gave him credit for the amount.

I felt I had a perfect legal and moral right to keep this money;
but a few days later thought perhaps, as a matter of policy, I had
made a mistake, as he could throw more or less business my way which
I might lose if he resented my action. I then wrote him expressing
my regret for the necessity of the step. At first he took it very
nicely, told me not to speak of it, and that it was all right; but
later he did his utmost to divert business from me and then my only
regret was that I had not kept the whole amount.

From an office-boy at four dollars per week I had brought him up in
my business, launched him out as a broker, supported him liberally,
and made him successful. All he ever had in the world he owed either
directly or indirectly to me. He wronged me in the old days before
the failure in 1895, again in this later failure, and now added
insult to injury in his base ingratitude.

In these days of trial I was often severely pressed for ready money
in small amounts for current expenses. My old friend Will Curtice
had responded to my occasional requests for loans, which had been
invariably returned, though not always with promptness. The time
came when he declined, saying he could not do it, which meant
he would not, for he was becoming a rich man. At a later period,
and when my credit with butcher and grocer had reached the limit.
I wrote to him for fifty dollars. I told him it was for bread
and butter for my family and that whether he made the loan or not
I should never again appeal to him. He returned my letter, first
writing across it, "It is quite impossible." A few days later I
met him in the street. He saw me coming and deliberately cut me.

Another friend gone. One of the old "Immortal Ten"--the man who
had composed that song containing the lines:

"And Stowe has been so generous since,
That all the crowd have dubbed him Prince."

At one of our old dinner-parties I heard Curtice say, in the course
of conversation, "Friends are of no use except for what you can
get out of them." He laughed when he said it and I supposed it was
a thoughtless joke--perhaps he meant it seriously.




CHAPTER XLVI

AT THE BRINK OF THE GRAVE



It is the afternoon of January 4th, 1903. I am going from my office,
home to that devoted woman who has in all my bitter trials stood
by me brave as a lion, always the same loving, cheerful, true
wife--the mother of my children, those dear ones who have done
their best to aid in her heroic efforts to sustain my courage and
comfort me in my awful distress of mind.

On my way to the train I stop at a drug store. To the clerk I say,
"A bottle of morphine pills." He looks at me an instant and says,
"For neuralgia, perhaps"? I reply, "Yes." He hands me a book. I
register a fictitious name and address, take the bottle and leave
the store. How easy it is to get possession of this deadly drug
which brings rest in a sleep that knows no end.

How can I go into that home and greet my loved ones with this awful
thought in my mind? What am I about to do? Am I going to plunge
that poor family into the lowest depths of grief and shame? God,
forgive me! I do not think of that phase. And why do I not think
of it?

The brain is weary to the straining point. Nothing but abject poverty,
cruel, gaunt want stares me in the face. Can I see my loved ones
hungry without a roof to shelter them? I am penniless. The tradesmen
will give no further credit. The landlord wants his rent and I have
not a friend in the world that I can think of to help me. I have
humiliated myself in the dust in my efforts to borrow a little money.
I have asked it as a loan or charity, if they chose to regard it
as the same thing, from men of wealth who have known me intimately
for many years, but all in vain.

And so I am going to destroy myself that my family may get immediate
relief through the paltry few thousand dollars of life insurance,
all that remains of the nearly two hundred thousand dollars I
carried in my prosperous days.

I have thought of what will be the probable course of events after
my death. Probably my wife, perhaps with Mrs. Slater, will buy
a small farm and raise chickens or something of that sort, out of
which all can get a living until the boys can help to something
better--anyway, they will be better off without me.

Fallacious reasoning to ease the mind for a coward's act, say you?
Perhaps--but I could not see it so at that time. All that I could
grasp in my mental state was the fact that I had no money and knew
not where to get any. Money must be found for my family to exist
and my death would bring it--consequently I must die.

On the ferryboat I stood on the rear deck and looked back at the
lights of the great city. It was, so I believed, my last farewell
to the scene of my busy life. I was strangely calm.

On the train I read the evening paper as usual and after arriving
at my station walked home. The fond greeting from all, never omitted,
seemed that evening especially tender. There was no poverty of
love, whatever the material conditions might be. Our simple dinner
over, the evening was passed as usual and we retired.

The details of the awful horror which followed would inflict too
much pain on me to write and give my readers no pleasure to read.
For many hours the physicians labored at their almost hopeless task
and finally dragged me back from the brink of the grave.

Before leaving my office I had mailed a letter to a friend in the
trade requesting him to take charge of my business matters the
following morning. He did so, and in the evening came to my home,
having kept himself informed during the day, by telephone, of my
condition. He told me he had come to help, and before anything else
wanted my promise never again to repeat my action. I had already
given a sacred vow to my poor wife to that effect, and so help me
God, come what may, I will never break it!

This friend and another gentleman in the trade provided me with
money to pay my pressing bills. They amounted to less than three
hundred dollars, and in a few days I was able to return to the
office. Meanwhile, Mrs. Slater had been informed of the exact
situation. It was a terrible blow to her, but she did all she could
to help by releasing me from a large part of the indebtedness and
agreeing to accept a very low rate of interest on the remainder.




CHAPTER XLVII

AGAIN AT THE HELM



When I again took up my work at the office, it was with courage
renewed and fortified by a week of constant effort on the part of
my wife to make me realize more than ever before how much easier
it would be for her to bear any trials, no matter how severe, with
me, rather than a life of ease, even were that possible, without
me. While with loving care she nursed me back to health, she showed
me the folly of what I had attempted, and though making that point
clear and forceful avoided saying one word that would add to the
depression which weighed me down. Despite the frightful shock she
had received her love remained faithful and undiminished. It was
marvelous--the love and courage of that noble woman!

With a determination to succeed in at least making a living and
sufficient beside to meet the payments to Mrs. Slater, I put my
whole soul in my work. I do not suppose I really worked any harder
than I had for years past, but it seemed so, and in a measure my
efforts were rewarded.

We had on our books a good many customers who were small buyers.
The rest of the trade not competing with us so actively for this
class as for the larger business, made it easier for us to hold it.
Most of these firms we had been selling for more than a quarter of
a century.

There had recently been much complaint from these customers of the
prices we charged them, compared with published quotations of the
wholesale market.

On the occasion of a call at the office, one of them asked if it
would not be practicable in some way to buy to better advantage?
We explained to him the terms on which the business in importation
lots was done. If we were in a position to buy our supplies direct
in large lots, as importers, paying cash against the documents on
arrival of the steamer, and then await discharge of cargo, after
which would come weighing up in small lots and making shipments, we
could afford to sell at lower figures, but we had not the capital
to do the business.

He then suggested that the difficulty of lack of capital could be
surmounted by making our sales on terms of payment of approximate
amount with order. I was so eager for business that I probably
did not give to the possibility of loss to me in carrying out such
a suggestion the consideration it should have had. At all events,
we mailed a few letters to customers explaining the matter, and
a business on this basis was commenced and quickly grew to large
proportions.

This fact made it dangerous, for the larger the business the greater
the risk. We had to continually have an interest in the market
either on one side or the other, and if the business was large our
interest must be in proportion.

For some time the business was most satisfactory. My judgment of
the market was correct, our customers were well pleased, and we
made good profits. I was greatly encouraged with the outlook and
believed my troubles were at an end. During this period a certain
large interest used our office as a medium for some market manipulation,
and while this was going on that interest stood behind us in this
business.

Then came the other side of the story. We made losses. The market
went against us when our interest in it was considerable, and the
losses, not a large amount, still, were to us staggering. Compared
with the business we had been doing, there were but few contracts
outstanding. We tried to complete them. The material had arrived,
we arranged to have it weighed up, and it was invoiced, but we
could not make the shipments.

Just as events culminated there came to me in a most unexpected
manner an opportunity for a connection in another line of business
which promised large and almost immediate results.

I was through with the struggle in my own trade. Without large
capital it was useless to go on; and even with this, the business
had been so cut into by the trusts, the opportunity for making
money was far less than in the earlier years of my career. In the
new line I would meet with strangers and must of necessity carry
with me no complications. I believed in a comparatively short time
I could make enough money to pay my creditors and with that end in
mind I embraced the opportunity.

To my wife I said simply that my affairs had become involved, and
then started on the journey to my new field, many hundreds of miles
from New York, leaving her to adjust the old matters, with my aid,
through correspondence.

All but two or three of the smaller creditors showed the utmost
kindness, expressing their sympathy and the willingness to give me
time to pay my debts. This was all I asked.

The new connection was all that was represented. I liked the
business, my particular work was congenial, and so good were the
prospects I was as nearly happy as a man of my domestic taste could
be when separated from his wife.

Early in 1904 it became necessary for me to spend some time in
a city near New York. My wife then gave up the house, stored her
furniture, and with the family joined me.

It was here the hardest blow of all was dealt me. One of the small
creditors, in an attempt to collect his debt through the office of
the district attorney, caused my arrest. This came at a time when
my efforts were about to show tangible results, and its publicity
severed my business connection. Instead of hastening the payment
of his claim, my creditor by his action delayed it. The blow was
a crushing one in every way--to my financial prospects and to my
mental and physical condition.




CHAPTER XLVIII

A NIGHTMARE



"In the eyes of the law a man is innocent until proven guilty; the
world says he is guilty until proven innocent."

I was taken to the district attorney's office, treated with courtesy,
and told I would be released on giving five hundred dollars bail.
I believed I could do this and was given the day to accomplish
it. By telephone and telegraph I tried to find the friends whom I
thought would surely stand by me to that extent in this emergency,
especially as there was no possible risk of loss. They had but to
take the five hundred dollars out of their bank and deposit it in
another place quite as secure. Sooner or later it would come back
to them.

When the day was ended I was poorer by the amount of the tolls I
had paid and had not found the friend. This one would like to do
it, but could not; another had gone to luncheon and would call me
up on the telephone as soon as he returned--he must be still at
luncheon. Every one I tried had some excuse.

To my wife I wrote fully, suggesting to her a number of people to
whom she might appeal in her efforts to effect my release. Then I
settled down to grim despair.

For three full weeks my wife labored unceasingly to get bail. The
amount had been reduced, first to three hundred, then to two hundred
dollars, and finally she secured the latter sum and I returned to
her almost a wreck mentally and physically.

Among the people I had told my wife to apply to was Mr. Mallison,
who, it will be remembered, was the man to whom I sold the Wood
and Slater interests in certain properties.

For some time before our second failure he had been doing business
in our office on joint account and some of the money he had
contributed was lost. In reply to my wife's letter he gave these
losses as a reason for not helping, and added that I had admitted
to his lawyer I had not made the purchases for which his money was
to be used for margins.

I know the man and do not believe he would knowingly make a statement
contrary to the facts, but I cannot conceive how he could possibly
place such a construction on anything that was said by me at the
interview he referred to, or at any other time. It is absolutely
and unqualifiedly false. Not only did I make clear that every dollar
of his money had been applied as intended, but I urged his lawyer
to examine the books and trace the losses, and understood he would
do so. When he did not, I supposed he was entirely satisfied and did
not want to further mix in my affairs for fear that the creditors
would try to hold his client responsible as an undisclosed partner.

Copyright (c) 2007. famouswriterz.com. All rights reserved.