A PARTNER IN THE LIVERPOOL HOUSE

1850-1852

From Saratoga, I went down the Hudson to New York, and thence to Boston, where I arrived in time to take the Parliament, Captain Brown, on the 25th of July. I had lived fast in the eight weeks of my holiday. It was the only vacation I had had since I had begun my business life as a grocer boy in Holmes's store, and I had worked hard during that long period. The result was that I sprang back too far, like the released bow, and was soon to see the effects. As my time was so limited, I had tried to make the most of it, and had rushed from place to place, had lived in all sorts of hotels and eaten all sorts of food. Besides, the travel, all of which had been in a whirl of excitement, aided in upsetting my physical system.

A few days on the boat were enough to complete the wreck. I was as badly shaken up as Mont Pelee, and was ill for most of the voyage. When I reached Liverpool, I had lost thirty pounds, and had to be taken off the steamer, and was carried to the house of Mr. Thayer, the Liverpool partner of Colonel Train. It was two or three months before I completely recovered.

I had hardly reached England before I began to realize that the people there use a somewhat different version of the English language than we are accustomed to in America. My physician was Dr. Archer. He came to see me one morning just after I had had my breakfast, and took his stand immediately before the fire, with his back to it. "I am half starved,"

he said. I immediately rang the bell, and when the servant came turned to the physician and asked what he would have for breakfast. He said he had eaten breakfast and did not want anything more. "But," said I, "you said you were half starved; surely you must be hungry." He burst into a roar of laughter. "I meant that I was half starved with cold."

With this as a beginning, I began to pick up the vocabulary peculiar to the modern English. My next acquisition was "nasty." I was informed that a rather disagreeable day was a very "nasty" day, and that the weather was simply "beastly." After mastering these three words, which were entirely new to me, and adding such words as I could pick up from the daily speech of the men I met, I was soon able to get along in some fashion with the English of England.

My first British holiday was spent in Scotland, where I stayed for a week. When I was at Balmoral the Queen happened to be there. Leaving Balmoral, I went to Braemar, on the way to Aberdeen. A number of young students were there at the time, and I spent some moments talking with them. Suddenly, there was a tremendous uproar and excitement, and I saw a four-in-hand drive up. The students informed me that it was the Premier, Lord John Russell, who had just returned from an audience with the Queen at Balmoral. I saw there was a chance for some sport. Turning to the students, with a smile, I said: "I wonder how his lordship knew I had come to Braemar! I hope to have the pleasure of speaking with him."

The students laughed satirically. One of them said: "Look heah, Mr.

Train, that sort of thing won't do heah, you know. We don't do things as you do in America." Another suggested that I should not be treated very civilly if I attempted to approach Lord John Russell.

For reply, I took out a card and wrote on it: "An American, in the Highlands of Scotland, is delighted to know that he is under the same roof with England's Premier, Lord John Russell, and, before he goes, would ask the pleasure of speaking with his lordship for a moment." I carefully folded the card in the letter that had been given to me by Mr.

Webster, and afterward signed by the President of the United States and Henry Clay. I sent the two in to his lordship.

In a few minutes the door opened, and the secretary of Lord John Russell came in and asked for "Mr. Train." I said I was Mr. Train. "Lord John Russell," replied the secretary, "waits the pleasure of speaking with Mr. Train of Boston." I followed him out of the room, to the amazement of the young students, who didn't do things that way in England.

His lordship received me with that easy grace and courtesy which I have always observed in Englishmen of high rank. I told him I would not take up any of his time, and that I merely wanted to meet him. He made me talk about the United States, and insisted upon introducing me to his wife. She, also, received me graciously, saying she was "always glad to see Americans." She asked me many questions about this country and especially about Niagara Falls. A half hour pa.s.sed by before I was aware of the time. I begged pardon for staying so long, and left.

In my book, Young America Abroad, I have referred to this incident and to the courteous reception I met at Braemar. When I had gone around the world, and returned to America, and was at Newport with Colonel Hiram Fuller, in '56, there came to me in the mail one morning a coroneted note. It was from London, and written by Lady Russell.

"It was so kind of you," it said, "to remember us at Braemar, and to send us your Young America Abroad, which his lordship and I have read with a great deal of pleasure. When you come to London, come to see us.--FANNIE RUSSELL."

Our Liverpool office was at No. 5 Water Street, George Holt's building.

As soon as I was able to look after the company's interests, I went down to the office and took charge. Mr. Thayer returned to Boston, and later to New York. This left me in complete control. At twenty years of age, I was the manager of the great house of Train & Co., in Liverpool.

I at once began to reorganize things in Liverpool, and to develop our business. I put on two ships a month between Liverpool and Boston, and arranged the James McHenry line to Philadelphia, and sent transient ships to New York. We also had what was known as the "triangular line,"

handling cotton and naval stores.

Liverpool I found to be a great port, but very much belated. It was too conservative, and the old fogies there were quite content to keep up customs that their ancestors had followed without trying to improve upon them, or to introduce new and better ones. I set to work to improve everything in our business that was susceptible of improvement.

I was astonished, the very first day after I reached the office, to learn that nothing was done at night. The entire twelve hours from six in the afternoon to six the following morning were absolutely lost, and this in a business that requires every minute of time in the twenty-four hours. Ships can not be delayed, held at ports for day-light, or laid up while men sleep. The work of loading and unloading must proceed with all despatch, if there is to be any profit in handling the business, and ships must be sent on their voyages without loss of valuable time. I had supposed that the English shippers thoroughly understood these simple principles of the business in which they have led the world.

Our vessels were very expensive, and we could not afford to lose the twelve hours of the night. That much time meant a profit to us, and I determined to utilize it. What was my surprise, when I went to the proper authorities, to find that we should not be allowed to light up the Liverpool docks at night, or to have fires on them. It was feared that we should burn the structures and destroy the shipping and docks.

These dignified gentlemen even laughed at me for suggesting such a foolhardy undertaking.

I said to myself, there is always one way to reach men, and I will find the way to reach these dignitaries. It occurred to me that I could reach them most surely through a plea for the prosperity of the port. I went at once to the representatives of all the American lines having offices in Liverpool, to organize them into a combined attack on the Liverpool port authorities. I saw Captain Delano of the Albert Gallatin, Captain French of the Henry Clay, Captain West of the Cope Philadelphia line, Captain Cropper of Charles H. Marshall's Black Ball line, Zerega of the Blue Packet line, and others, and we decided upon asking the dock board to give us a hearing. This the board very readily consented to do.

Prior to this meeting, I went to all the American representatives and outlined my plan of campaign. This was to say very plainly to the dock board that unless we could have fires and lights on the docks we would take the shipping to other ports. The captains and others were astonished, but they agreed to let me approach the board with this plain threat.

I then went to the board, with all the representatives of the American lines, and quietly told the members that we wanted fires and lights on the docks at night, that we needed this in order to carry on our business in our way, and that unless we could have them, we should at once go to other ports. Abandoning a mood of amused laughter, these gentlemen suddenly became very serious. Their h.o.a.ry customs did not seem so sacred then, and they ended by throwing a complete somersault, and granting us full permission to light up the Liverpool docks at night.

Of course this made a tremendous difference to all of us. We could now load our ships at night, thus saving one half of the twenty-four hours, which we had been losing. I understand that the Morgan combination, fifty-two years after this, has again forced concessions from the Liverpool dock board by threatening to take the ships to Southampton.

Our princ.i.p.al freight from Liverpool at that time consisted of crockery from the Staffordshire potteries, Manchester dry-goods, and iron and steel, and what were known as "chow-chow," or miscellaneous articles. We often had as many as 150 consignees in a single cargo. Our princ.i.p.al business connections were the firms of John H. Green & Co. and Forward & Co., who shipped pottery; Bailey Brothers & Co., Jevons & Co., A. & S.

Henry & Co., Crafts & Stell, Charles Humberston, and John Ireland. Our pa.s.senger agent was Daniel P. Mitch.e.l.l, 18 Waterloo Road.

The first blunder that I made in Liverpool--and the only serious one, I believe--was in connection with shipping emigrants to the United States.

One day a man came into the office and said he was from the estate of the Marquis of Lansdowne, and wanted to contract for the shipment of 300 pa.s.sengers for New York. We soon came to terms, and I chartered the ship President. We charged the Marquis from 3 15s. to 4 a head. I learned afterward that these pa.s.sengers were poor tenants of his estates. The Marquis of that time was the grandfather of the present Marquis of Lansdowne, Minister of War in the Salisbury cabinet.

At that time we had to pay $2 a head for all immigrants entering the country. I had tried to get this changed, through Mr. Webster, but had failed. We had also to give bond that the immigrants would not become a public charge. It proved a very expensive contract for us, as we had to bring back many of these paupers for the old Marquis to take care of.

When I left Boston, I had taken a partnership, one sixth interest, in the house of Train & Co. In Liverpool I had twenty-five clerks under me, and at one time had four ships in Victoria Docks. It may be inferred that I conducted the business with some degree of success, as my interest--one sixth--for the first year was $10,000. Next year, when in London, I was invited to a grand reception given by Abbott Lawrence, 138 Piccadilly, who was then United States minister at the court of St.

James's. That day I dined with Lord Bishop Spencer of Jamaica, whom I had met in Saratoga, and took Lady Harvey in. This was my acceptance of the invitation he had extended to me in Saratoga. The bishop asked if I was going to the reception of the American minister that night, and, on my saying that I was, asked me to accept a place in his carriage. This I very gladly did, as I had, by this time learned a great deal about the value of state and ceremony in English life. The sequence will show how this worldly wisdom served me.

At the dinner, however, I had had a very narrow escape. It was the "closest call," as we say in the West, that my temperance Methodist principles ever had. I was asked, as a great mark of distinction, to taste the pet wine of the bishop. The bishop himself acted as chief tempter of my old New England principles. He handed me a gla.s.s, saying: "Mr. Train, this is the wine we call the 'c.o.c.kroach flavor.' I want you to drink some of it with us," and he glanced around his table, at which were seated many t.i.tled Englishmen and women.

What was I to do? Should I, caught in so dire an emergency, drown my principles in the cup that cheers and inebriates? Was all my Methodism and New England temperance to go down in shipwreck? The exigency nerved me for the task, and I found a courage sufficient to carry me through. I had never tasted a drop of wine, and I was not going to begin now. I glanced about the room, and slowly raised the gla.s.s to my lips. I did not taste the wine, but the other guests thought that I did. "We all know," I said, "that the wine at your lordship's table is the best."

This pa.s.sed without challenge, and, in the ripple of applause, my omission to drink the wine was not observed.

Later in the evening I went with the bishop to the American minister's reception, and soon saw how well it was that I was in his lordship's carriage. Had I been in a hired cab, I should have fared badly. I should have had to wait in the long line of these vehicles, while flunkeys called out, in stentorian tones as if to advertise all London of the fact that you were in a hired concern, "Mr. Train's cab!" and other flunkeys, down the line, would take up the cry, "Mr. Train's cab!" until one would sink in a fever of chagrin. But as I came in the bishop's carriage, I heard respectful voices announce, "Lord Spencer and Mr.

Train."

I observed several ladies bending over an elderly gentleman, and soon another lady asked me if I had seen the duke. As there were two or three dukes present, I asked which one. She looked very much surprised, as if there could be more than one duke in the world. "Why, the Duke of Wellington!" she exclaimed.

I now took occasion to get a good look at the venerable old man. It was the first time, and proved to be the only time, I ever saw him. He would not have impressed me, I think, had it not been for the light of history which seemed, after I once knew it was he, to illuminate his face and frame. It was the last year of his enjoyment of great renown. He died shortly afterward.

While in England, I availed myself of every opportunity to see the country, and study it from every possible point of view. I may add that this has been my invariable custom in all countries. I have gone through the world as an inquirer and an observer of men and things. As I had visited Scotland, I was desirous of seeing another of the islands, Wales, so I ran down into that curious country on a vacation, in 1850. I went to Bangor, on the Menai Straits, and hardly had got into the hotel when a tremendous commotion in the corridors told me that some guest of unusual importance had arrived. I asked who it was, and was informed that it was the Duke of Devonshire.

"That is exceedingly fortunate for me," I said. "There is no man that I would rather see at this moment than the Duke of Devonshire." At this, my companions--among whom were young Grinnell, of Grinnell, Bowman & Co., whose father sent the Resolute to find Sir John Franklin, young Russell, and young Jevons, an iron merchant--began laughing immoderately. I wrote on a card that an American, who happened to be at the George Hotel when he arrived, would like to see him, if it would not be too great an intrusion upon his time. I added that it had been one of the desires of my life to visit his famous estate at Chatsworth.

This note I sent to the duke by a messenger. Immediately came back a reply that the duke would be very glad to see me, and I was ushered into his presence. He was then an elderly man, his voice tremulous and uncertain. To make it still more difficult to converse with him, he was deaf, but used an ear-trumpet. I succeeded in telling him that his palace at Chatsworth was well known throughout America by reputation, and that I should like very much to see it, while I was in that part of Great Britain. He replied that I must certainly see it before leaving.

He then called to his secretary to bring him a blue card, and wrote upon it a pa.s.s to enter the grounds and buildings. This was all very kind, and I thanked him for the courtesy.

He then completely stunned me by saying: "You must see the emperor!" I knew that the Czar of Russia had been his guest, but it was not likely that he was at Chatsworth at that time; so I endeavored to divine what the duke meant. My mind ran over horses, conservatories, and dogs.

I could not, for a moment or two, imagine what "the emperor" could be, and was about to commit myself irrevocably to a conservatory, a favorite horse, or hound; but before making any remark gave him an appreciative smile which seemed to please his grace. He called for the blue card again, and wrote on it: "Let the emperor play for Mr. Train." I learned afterward that it cost the duke $500 to have "the emperor" play, and so much the more appreciated his courtesy. I remarked that I had heard "the emperor" referred to as the highest fountain in all Europe.

As soon as I got back to Liverpool, I made up a little party to visit Chatsworth. When we reached the station I was astonished to see almost a regiment of uniformed servants waiting to meet us. I was even more astounded when the head of this body-guard of retainers approached and asked, in the most deferential manner: "When will your royal highness have luncheon?" I saw, of course, that they were taking me for some one else, and remarked that they were perhaps waiting for the arrival of the Prince of Hesse-Ca.s.sel, whom I had just seen at the hotel. The prince came up almost immediately afterward, and had the pleasure of seeing "the emperor" play, by special authority, on my card from the duke.

The palace is a magnificent residence, so far exceeding anything of the kind in England at that time, that George IV. is said to have felt offended when invited there, because his own residence was shabby in comparison. I made the acquaintance at Chatsworth of Sir Joseph Paxton, who the following year modeled the entire gla.s.s system of the first Crystal Palace at London. I was to see something of the Crystal Palace the next year.

Six years after this, when I published my book, Young America Abroad, I sent a marked copy to the Duke of Devonshire, and he wrote me a letter in which he said: "I am an old man now, sixty-two, but I have not forgotten the delightful day when I met you on the Menai Straits."

One day, in my office in Liverpool, I received a card from the Secretary, inviting me to the exhibition in London, and Mr. Riddle of Boston, who was then on his way to London, asked me to be present on the day when the Queen was to come, which was the day before the opening. I went to London, and that was the first and the only time I ever saw Queen Victoria. She was with Prince Albert, and they were accompanied, I remember, by a brilliant staff.

I recall an incident during my visit to London on this occasion which aptly ill.u.s.trates the want of suggestiveness on the part of Englishmen.

They are content to go along in old ruts, provided only they be old enough. Frank Fuller was the contractor for the Crystal Palace, and a problem arose, in the construction, as to what to do with a certain beautiful and aged elm that had been an object of reverence and stood in the way of the proposed building. It had finally been decided to cut it down, in order to get it out of the way.

"What!" said I, "cut it down--this exquisite tree?" Some one remarked that the authorities did not wish to cut it down, but it stood directly in the way of the great palace, and would have to be sacrificed. "The palace is here for time," I said, "and this tree may be here for eternity. Spare the tree." "But how?" they asked. They were bewildered--did not have a thought of what to do, except to hew down the venerable tree. "Build your palace around it," I said. This simple device had not occurred to them, but it saved the elm.

Mr. Fuller was so pleased by the suggestion, that he began asking me about hotels in America, and proposed that I undertake the building of an American hotel in London. I said that some time I should, perhaps, try the experiment, but that for the present my shipping business would keep me fully occupied.