My Life in Many States and in Foreign Lands Part 9

On arriving at Liverpool, we went to No. 153 Duke Street, a house then kept by Mrs. Blodgett, whose husband saw service as consul in Spain.

This house was at that time the favorite resort of American sea captains and shipping men, and was a sort of central point for all Americans in Liverpool. John Alfred Marsh, who had been with us in Boston, was with me in Liverpool at this time, in the branch of our house there; and I think he is the only man living among all of my friends of that year. He is now connected with the Guion Line steamships.

During the first year in Liverpool after my marriage, I had a peculiar and interesting experience with the science of phrenology. At that time every one was talking about its "revelations," and I became somewhat interested in it. My interest came chiefly, however, through James McHenry, whose line of ships to Philadelphia I had charge of. He suggested one day that I go to a phrenologist, saying that I had a most curious head. Up to this time, I had not taken any stock in the science, which I set down as charlatanry and mountebankism. But he insisted, and finally I consented to go with him to Bridges, then the most famous phrenologist in Liverpool or in the west of England.

Bridges astonished me so greatly by telling me things about myself that I had supposed no one knew but I, that my interest was awakened. Still I thought there must be something queer about the thing, and I accused McHenry of having told Bridges something about me beforehand so that I might be taken by surprise. McHenry so vehemently denied this that I knew he was telling me the truth. There was nothing to do but to accept the "chart" of Bridges as being at least sincere.

As I like to investigate everything for myself, I determined to see what there was in phrenology, and to have my head examined in circ.u.mstances where there could be no question that the phrenologist had had any information about me. So I went to London, and there consulted a still more famous phrenologist, the octogenarian Donovan. I said to him: "Mr.

Donovan, I want you to tell me the plain truth about my head."

"Phrenology does not lie," he said. "Put down your guinea."

I put down the guinea, and submitted to an examination. He told me almost the same things that Bridges had said, and thus confirmed the first chart of my head. After finishing his examination, Donovan looked at me and said: "You will be either a great reformer, or a great pirate.

It merely depends upon the direction you take in Ethics!"

Even this examination did not entirely satisfy me. There were still higher authorities in phrenology, and I felt that I should not be satisfied until I had the verdict of the highest court of appeals. I consulted every phrenologist I could reach--a great professor in Paris, another from Germany, and finally, I reached the highest authority then living, the highest that has ever lived, possibly, the great Dr. Fowler, who was then lecturing in England.

He came to Liverpool to lecture, and I went to hear him. Fowler asked for some one from the audience to allow him to examine his head. As he had never seen me, I felt that I could in this way get an absolutely impartial and unprejudiced reading. I went on the stage, and my appearance caused a ripple of surprise, for I was known in Liverpool.

The phrenologist placed his hands on my head and exclaimed: "Jehu, what a head!" The audience applauded, as if they thought I had a head, and had used it to good purpose in their city.

Beverley Tucker was American consul in Liverpool at that time, having been appointed by President Pierce. When the famous actor and dramatist, John Brougham, visited Liverpool, I suggested that we Americans, in whose country Brougham had lived and done his best work, should entertain him at a dinner at the Waterloo House. We had a large and lively company present, and Brougham was in his best vein. I asked Brougham for his autograph, and, at the same time, something about the poet Willis, who was then our favorite American poet. He gave me instantly, without apparent thought, the following verse:

"Hyperion curls his forehead on, Behold the poet Willis!

For love of such a Corydon, Who would not be a Phyllis?"

Thus have I narrated, in this and the previous chapters, the most interesting events and experiences of my life in Liverpool. The life there was particularly varied and altogether delightful. It was, of course, a very busy time, but I managed to get a great deal of pleasure out of it. There was a constant round of entertainments, and the social life of the city was generally gay and interesting. At this period I had two portraits of my wife and myself made. They are now in the possession of my daughter, who keeps them in the room which she always has ready for me in the country.

As for my standing in the city, I may give here the opinion of Charles Mackay, the poet, author of Cheer, Boys, Cheer, and other well-known poems, who wrote, in reviewing my book, Young America in Wall Street, that I "walked up the Liverpool Exchange like a Baring or a Rothschild."

I remained in Liverpool one year with my wife, and then returned to the United States. This was in '52. The best men of Liverpool had made me welcome everywhere, in all circles of business or of society.

CHAPTER X

BUSINESS SUCCESS IN AUSTRALIA

1853-1855

My wife and I in returning to Boston came on a visit that we expected to be brief. I confidently supposed I should go back to Liverpool and continue the business of the branch house. But this was not to be.

Instead, I was soon to make a far wider departure in business fields and methods, and to try my fortune at another end of the earth.

When I arrived in Boston, I had a conference with Colonel Train about conditions in England, and suggested to him that I should have a partnership interest in the Boston house, as well as in the house in Liverpool. To my surprise, Colonel Train was not only astonished, but indignant. He could not understand how I had pushed ahead so rapidly, and this swift advance was by no means pleasant to him. He felt that, in some way, I was pushing him out of his place.

"Would you ride over me roughshod?" he asked, almost fiercely, when I ventured to suggest a larger partnership interest. I replied that I thought I had given full value for everything that the house had done for me, and that I should be able to do so in the future. After some further discussion, in which the old gentleman was mollified, the matter was arranged. I received a partnership interest that was equal to $15,000 a year--and I was only twenty-two years old at the time.

As soon as the contract was signed, and it was in my hand, I said--because I was still nettled by the manner in which he had received my suggestion of a partnership--"Colonel, as you do not seem to care to take me into the firm, here is your contract"; and I tore it in two and handed him the pieces. "I am going to Australia."

This cool announcement astonished him. He did not know what to do.

Finally, we came to terms. It was decided that I should go to Melbourne to start my own house with Captain Caldwell, one of our oldest ship-captains, the house to be known as "Caldwell, Train & Co." It was Colonel Train's view that this elderly man would act as a check upon my youthful rashness, he having no interest in the firm but good-will toward me and one of his captains.

The arrangements once completed, I was eager to be about my work in the antipodes, and prepared to sail at the first opportunity. Everything was taken from Boston--clerks, sets of books, business forms, etc. Nothing was left to the chance of finding or getting in Australia the material that we might need. And so the new house of "Caldwell, Train & Co."

sailed away from Boston on the Plymouth Rock for Melbourne, Australia, on a singularly audacious venture.

Captain Caldwell went out in charge of the clerks, while I was to go by a different route a little later. I went to New York and took pa.s.sage from there in the old Whitlock Havre packet, Bavaria, Captain Bailey. I had two clerks with me, and carried, also, a large amount of office supplies in duplicate. Duncan, Sherman & Co. had appointed me their agent for the purchase of gold in Melbourne, which was to be shipped to London or New York as circ.u.mstances permitted, and I had also been appointed by the Boston underwriters their agent to represent them in the South Seas. The outlook for business seemed especially bright.

I have traveled a great deal since that time, but this was the longest period I have ever been on a ship in a single voyage. We were ninety-two days from New York to Melbourne. I have twice since gone entirely around the world in less time. It was very dreary at times, and I had to resort to all manner of things in order to pa.s.s the hours. These attempted diversions were often very amusing.

I have always wanted to do things a little differently from others, partly because it has been more interesting to do them in a novel manner, but chiefly because I have found that a better way than the accepted one could be found. My desire for novelty led me to do some curious things during this long and tedious voyage to Melbourne. One day I was looking at the porpoises playing about the ship's bows, and it occurred to me that I could harpoon one of them. I asked the captain if he had a harpoon, and he brought me one. I then had a rope tied fast about me, so that I could be lowered over the bow. I had a good chance and let fly the harpoon, and, as luck would have it, succeeded in getting a fine porpoise. My successful throw astonished every one--myself more than any. The porpoise was brought aboard, and we found portions of it very good eating.

On another day I hooked a shark, a "man-eater," ten feet long, and this, also, was brought aboard, but no one proposed to eat it. A little later we pa.s.sed into the zone of the albatrosses, and myriads of these exquisite birds flew over or hovered above the ship. I was desirous to have one of them, and resorted to stratagems learned years ago in the days when I used to snare rabbits and net pigeons on the old farm in New England. I baited a hook with pork, and threw it out upon the water.

Instantly a great albatross swooped down upon it and swallowed the bait.

I drew the bird on board, and found it a magnificent specimen, measuring twelve feet from tip to tip of its wings. Of course, I released the bird very soon. In such pastimes, we beguiled the time, until we finally swept through the great South Seas and into Hobson's Bay, pa.s.sed Point Nepean, and anch.o.r.ed off Sandridge.

I had fancied that Melbourne was not a frequented port, off the tracks of commerce, although springing into life and prominence. Imagine my surprise when, on rounding the point where one could sweep the expanse of the bay, I saw before me some six hundred vessels that had reached the port before we arrived, and all, like ourselves, attracted there by the rumors of gold, gold, gold! For a second time within a few years, the whole world had gone wild over a gold discovery, and was now sending thousands of persons to Australia. Thousands more were deterred from going only by the fear of starvation, for very few believed at that time that Australia could feed the hungry searchers after gold, much less give them a fortune in gold nuggets.

Before I left Boston I had heard much about the perils of starvation in Australia. I was told that the country produced little, and that its scant resources would soon be overtaxed by the horde of gold-seekers.

"Starve!" I said; "why there are twenty million sheep in the island." I was then told that man could not live by mutton alone. But I knew that, with these millions of sheep, there was little danger of famine.

From the anchorage at Sandridge to Melbourne the distance is about ten miles, the Yarra-Yarra winding and twisting through the tortuous channel. As this river is too shallow to admit ships of a greater burden than sixty tons, all large vessels anchor at Sandridge, or Williamstown.

While the distance up the Yarra-Yarra is ten miles, across the spit of sand it is only two. I went into Melbourne at once, secured buildings for our cargo, and arranged for lighters to take it up the Yarra-Yarra.

The very first thing that impressed me in Australia was the miserable and unnecessary inconvenience of having to send everything up the twisted channel of the Yarra-Yarra by lighters. I determined to look into this and see what could be done. The method was too expensive and too slow to suit me. I immediately called on the most influential men of the city, like De Graves, Octavius Brown, Dalgetty, Cruikshank & Co., and James Henty, and said to them: "This thing of coming by way of the Yarra-Yarra, ten miles, when it is only two miles by land, is out of the question. Let us build a railway to Sandridge."

Apparently, this had not occurred to them. They had brought from England their habits of thought, and accepted things as they found them. But I kept at the railway suggestion, until the line was built. This was my first experience in organizing railways. It was not my last.

I also found that it was not possible to get suitable accommodations in Melbourne for business. There was no building there that was large enough. In order to get one sufficiently commodious, I had to build it.

Accordingly, we put up at the corner of Flinders and Elizabeth Streets, opposite the railway station, the biggest structure in the city. It cost a pretty penny. The building was 140 feet deep, 40 feet wide and three stories high. The date, "1854," was cut in stone at the top. The edifice cost $60,000. I imported iron shutters from England to make it fireproof.

It was also necessary to have a building at Sandridge, a warehouse in which to store our goods until they were needed in Melbourne, or until they were shipped for America or Europe. In putting up this building, I resolved to make an experiment. This was to have the building made in Boston, and shipped out to me to be erected at Sandridge, thousands of miles away. If successful, the warehouse would cost much less and would be of better material and in better style than anything I could get in Australia. It reached Sandridge all right and was put up at the end of the little line of railway, at a cost of $25,000. It was 60 feet deep by 40 feet wide, and six stories high.

With a warehouse at each end of the line, with all the business credit that I could wish, and with the best connections in the world, we were prepared to do a big business in Melbourne. How far we succeeded may be inferred from the fact that my commissions the first year amounted to $95,000.

Melbourne was a small but promising city. It had some 20,000 population at the time of the gold-fever, and had grown tremendously in the last two or three years, so that, in '54, it must have had something like 30,000 or 40,000 inhabitants. It was, of course, a frontier town, crude and raw, with few of the advantages of civilization. The people were too busy with their search for gold and profits to think much of the conveniences or luxuries of life. The only good hotel, for instance, was the Squatters' Hotel, at Port Philip. There was not even a merchants'

exchange, although one was greatly needed. The merchants had simply never heard of such a thing. I arranged with Salmi Morse, who afterward tried to introduce the Pa.s.sion Play in this country, to a.s.sist him in putting up a building that could be used for a hotel, theater, and mercantile exchange. The hotel was the Criterion, and we had a hall in the building for the exchange. The latter was the means of bringing together ship captains, merchants, agents, and business men generally, and a great stimulus was given to business.

I was able to introduce into Australia a great many articles and ideas from America. I brought over from Boston a lot of "Concord" wagons, of the same type as the one that "Ben" Holliday drove across the continent, and I told Freeman Cobb, who was then with Adams & Co., that I wanted him to start a line of coaches between Melbourne and the gold-mines, a distance of about sixty miles. I advanced the money for the enterprise, and a line was established, the first in Australia, to Geelong, Ballarat, Bendigo, and Castle Maine. These were the first coaches seen in that continent. The coaches cost in Australia $3,000 apiece.

I had a chaise brought from Boston for my own use. It was so light in comparison with the great, heavy, lumbering vehicles that were in use in all English countries, that the people there said it would break down immediately. They had not heard of Holmes's "Wonderful One-horse Shay that ran a hundred years to a day," and did not, of course, know the toughness of all "Yankee" things. It didn't break down, and its lightness and general serviceableness made it a big advertis.e.m.e.nt of American goods. People urged me to import a great many vehicles from America. Every ship brought out wagons of the Concord make, chaises, and vehicles of all sorts. Our carriages and buggies attracted much attention. They were the first vehicles of the sort that had ever been seen in the country. I sold these at a great profit.

A great disappointment and loss occurred, however, through the carelessness of the American shippers, on one occasion. They had sent a cargo of carriages, and I was certain of a large profit on the shipment.

What was my surprise and horror, on the arrival of the cargo, to discover that the stupid shippers had sent only the tops of the carriages! The bodies of the vehicles had actually been shipped to San Francisco!

A thing that greatly surprised me, in a land of Englishmen, Scotchmen, and Irishmen, was that there were no sports in Australia. It seems more strange now, after Kipling's fierce denunciation of the "padded fools at the wickets and the muddied oafs at the goal." As I had always been fond of outdoor sport, I at once introduced bowling and ten-pins, opened an alley and organized a club which was composed of Australian bankers--Manager Blackwood of the Union Bank, MacArthur of the Bank of Australia, Badc.o.c.k of the Bank of New South Wales, Bramhall of the London Chartered Bank, O'Shaughnessy of the Bank of Australasia, and Mathieson of the Bank of Victoria. I mention these names here merely for convenience, and to bring together some of the men with whom I was a.s.sociated in social and in business life in Melbourne. They represented some $200,000,000 of capital. MacArthur had a beautiful bungalow four miles out of Melbourne, where he invited me to shoot.

I found living at a hotel very dreary and very inconvenient, and decided to have a home of my own. So I got a two-story house at Collingwood, near the residence of Governor Latrobe, just out of the city. Here I accommodated my clerks, also. I took the stewardess, Undine, and the steward from one of our ships, and was able to set up quite an establishment. The United States consul, J. M. Tarleton, and his wife, lived with us for a time.

After I had been in Melbourne nearly a year I was guilty of a small piece of patriotism that has ever since seemed very amusing to me. I had been reared in the belief that every American-born boy has a chance to become President of the United States. I had also the idea that a child born out of the United States was not, in this sense, American-born. My wife expected to give birth to a child in a few months, and, like most parents, we fully expected it would be a son. So what should I do, in order not to rob my son of the chance of becoming President of his country, but send the mother across the seas to Boston, that he might be born on the soil of the United States! It was not until some little time after this that I learned that nationality follows the parents, and that Presidents may be born anywhere, if they are careful in the matter of their parents. The expected boy was a girl--if I may be pardoned an Irish bull. This was my daughter Sue, who could never be President, unless the Woman's Suffrage movement moves along very much faster than it has up to this time.