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7. CHAPTER VII.
Figuring the nature of the times deceased,
The which observed, a man may prophesy
With a near aim, of the main chance of things,
As yet not come to life.”
King Henry VI.
The following morning the baronet breakfasted in
Hudson Square. While at table, little was said concerning
the events of the past night, though sundry smiles
were exchanged, as eye met eye, and the recollection
of the mystification returned. Grace alone looked
grave, for she had been accustomed to consider Mrs.
Legend a very discriminating person, and she had even
hoped that most of those who usually figured in her
rooms, were really the clever persons they laid claim
to be.
The morning was devoted to looking at the quarter
of the town which is devoted to business, a party having
been made for that express purpose under the auspices
of John Effingham. As the weather was very cold,
although the distances were not great, the carriages
were ordered, and they all set off about noon.
Grace had given up expecting a look of admiration
from Eve in behalf of any of the lions of New-York,
her cousin having found it necessary to tell her, that,
in a comparative sense at least, little was to be said in
behalf of these provincial wonders. Even Mademoiselle
Viefville, now that the freshness of her feelings
were abated, had dropped quietly down into a natural
way of speaking of these things; and Grace, who was
quick-witted, soon discovered that when she did make
any allusions to similar objects in Europe, it was always
to those that existed in some country town. A
on such subjects; or if any thing was said, it arose incidentally
and as inseparable from the regular thread
of the discourse.
When in Wall street, the carriages stopped and the
gentlemen alighted. The severity of the weather kept
the ladies in the chariot, where Grace endeavoured to
explain things as well as she could to her companions.
“What are all these people running after, so intently?”
inquired Mademoiselle Viefville, the conversation
being in French, but which we shall render freely into
English, for the sake of the general reader.
“Dollars, I believe, Mademoiselle; am I right,
Grace?”
“I believe you are,” returned Grace, laughing,
“though I know little more of this part of the town than
yourself.”
“Quelle foule! Is that building filled with dollars,
into which the gentlemen are now entering? Its steps
are crowded.”
“That is the Bourse, Mademoiselle, and it ought to
be well lined, by the manner in which some who frequent
it live. Cousin Jack and Sir George are going
into the crowd, I see.”
We will leave the ladies in their seats, a few minutes,
and accompany the gentlemen on their way into the
Exchange.
“I shall now show you, Sir George Templemore,”
said John Effingham, “what is peculiar to this country,
and what, if properly improved, it is truly worth
a journey across the ocean to see. You have been
at the Royal Exchange in London, and at the Bourse
of Paris, but you have never witnessed a scene like
that which I am about to introduce you to. In Paris,
you have beheld the unpleasant spectacle of women
gambling publicly in the funds; but it was in driblets,
compared to what you will see here.”
While speaking, John Effingham led the way up
stairs into the office of one of the most considerable
representing houses, some lots, some streets, some entire
towns.
“This is the focus of what Aristabulus Bragg calls
the town trade,” said John Effingham, when fairly confronted
with all these wonders. “Here, then, you
may suit yourself with any species of real estate that
heart can desire. If a villa is wanted, there are a
dozen. Of farms, a hundred are in market; that is
merely half-a-dozen streets; and here are towns, of
dimensions and value to suit purchasers.”
“Explain this; it exceeds comprehension.”
“It is simply what it professes to be. Mr. Hammer,
do us the favour to step this way. Are you selling today?”
“Not much, sir. Only a hundred or two lots on this
island, and some six or eight farms, with one western
village.”
“Can you tell us the history of this particular piece
of property, Mr. Hammer?”
“With great pleasure, Mr. Effingham; we know
you to have means, and hope you may be induced to
purchase. This was the farm of old Volkert Van
Brunt, five years since, off of which he and his family
had made a livelihood for more than a century, by
selling milk. Two years since, the sons sold it to Peter
Feeler for a hundred an acre; or for the total sum
of five thousand dollars. The next spring Mr. Feeler
sold it to John Search, as keen a one as we have, for
twenty-five thousand. Search sold it, at private sale,
to Nathan Rise for fifty thousand, the next week, and
Rise had parted with it, to a company, before the purchase,
for a hundred and twelve thousand cash. The
map ought to be taken down, for it is now eight months
since we sold it out in lots, at auction, for the gross
sum of three hundred thousand dollars. As we have
received our commission, we look at that land as out
of the market, for a time.”
“Have you other property, sir, that affords the same
wonderful history of a rapid advance in value?” asked
the baronet.
“These walls are covered with maps of estates in
the same predicament. Some have risen two or three
thousand per cent. within five years, and some only a
few hundred. There is no calculating in the matter,
for it is all fancy.”
“And on what is this enormous increase in value
founded?—Does the town extend to these fields?”
“It goes much farther, sir; that is to say, on paper.
In the way of houses, it is still some miles short of
them. A good deal depends on what you call a thing,
in this market. Now, if old Volkert Van Brunt's property
had been still called a farm, it would have brought
a farm price; but, as soon as it was surveyed into lots,
and mapped—”
“Mapped!”
“Yes, sir; brought into visible lines, with feet and
inches. As soon as it was properly mapped, it rose to
its just value. We have a good deal of the bottom of
the sea that brings fair prices in consequence of being
well mapped.”
Here the gentlemen expressed their sense of the
auctioneer's politeness, and retired.
“We will now go into the sales-room,” said John
Effingham, “where you shall judge of the spirit, or
energy, as it is termed, which, at this moment, actuates
this great nation.”
Descending, they entered a crowd, where scores
were eagerly bidding against each other, in the fearful
delusion of growing rich by pushing a fancied value
to a point still higher. One was purchasing ragged
rocks, another the bottom of rivers, a third a bog, and
all on the credit of maps. Our two observers remained
some time silent spectators of the scene.
“When I first entered that room,” said John Effingham,
as they left the place, “it appeared to me to be
times, the impression is not much altered.”
“And all those persons are hazarding their means
of subsistence on the imaginary estimate mentioned by
the auctioneer?”
“They are gambling as recklessly as he who places
his substance on the cast of the die. So completely
has the mania seized every one, that the obvious truth,
a truth which is as apparent as any other law of nature,
that nothing can be sustained without a foundation, is
completely overlooked, and he who should now proclaim,
in this building, principles that bitter experience
will cause every man to feel, within the next few years,
would be happy if he escaped being stoned. I have
witnessed many similar excesses in the way of speculations;
but never an instance as gross, as wide-spread,
and as alarming as this.”
“You apprehend serious consequences, then, from
the reaction?”
“In that particular, we are better off than older nations,
the youth and real stamina of the country averting
much of the danger; but I anticipate a terrible
blow, and that the day is not remote when this town
will awake to a sense of its illusion. What you see
here is but a small part of the extravagance that exists,
for it pervades the whole community, in one shape or
another. Extravagant issues of paper-money, inconsiderate
credits that commence in Europe, and extend
throughout the land, and false notions as to the value
of their possessions, in men who five years since had
nothing, has completely destroyed the usual balance of
things, and money has got to be so completely the end
of life, that few think of it as a means. The history
of the world, probably, cannot furnish a parallel instance,
of an extensive country that is so absolutely
under this malign influence, as is the fact with our own
at this present instant. All principles are swallowed
up in the absorbing desire for gain; national honour,
the constitution, and every thing that is usually so dear
to men, are forgotten, or are perverted, in order to
sustain this unnatural condition of things.”
“This is not only extraordinary, but it is fearful!”
“It is both. The entire community is in the situation
of a man who is in the incipient stages of an exhilarating
intoxication, and who keeps pouring down
glass after glass, in the idle notion that he is merely
sustaining nature in her ordinary functions. This
wide-spread infatuation extends from the coast to the
extremest frontiers of the west; for, while there is a
justifiable foundation for a good deal of this fancied
prosperity, the true is so interwoven with the false, that
none but the most observant can draw the distinction;
and, as usual, the false predominates.”
“By your account, sir, the tulip mania of Holland
was trifling compared to this?”
“That was the same in principle as our own, but
insignificant in extent. Could I lead you through these
streets, and let you into the secret of the interests,
hopes, infatuations and follies that prevail in the human
breast, you, as a calm spectator, would be astonished
at the manner in which your own species can be deluded.
But let us move, and something may still occur
to offer an example.”
“Mr. Effingham—I beg pardon—Mr. Effingham,”
said a very gentlemanly-looking merchant, who was
walking about the hall of the exchange, “what do
you think now of our French quarrel?”
“I have told you, Mr. Bale, all I have to say on that
subject. When in France, I wrote you that it was not
the intention of the French government to comply with
the treaty; you have since seen this opinion justified
in the result; you have the declaration of the French
minister of state, that, without an apology from this
government, the money will not be paid; and I have
given it as my opinion, that the vane on yonder steeple
abandoned, should any thing occur in Europe to render
it necessary, or could the French ministry believe it
possible for this country to fight for a principle. These
are my opinions, in all their phases, and you may compare
them with facts and judge for yourself.”
“It is all General Jackson, sir—all that monster's
doings. But for his message, Mr. Effingham, we should
have had the money long ago.”
“But for his message, or some equally decided step,
Mr. Bale, you would never have it.”
“Ah, my dear sir, I know your intentions, but I fear
you are prejudiced against that excellent man, the King
of France! Prejudice, Mr. Effingham, is a sad innovator
on justice.”
Here Mr. Bale shook his head, laughed, and disappeared
in the crowd, perfectly satisfied that John Effingham
was a prejudiced man, and that he, himself,
was only liberal and just.
“Now, that is a man who wants for neither abilities
nor honesty, and yet he permits his interests, and the
influence of this very speculating mania, to overshadow
all his sense of right, facts plain as noon-day, and
the only principles that can rule a country in safety.”
“He apprehends war, and has no desire to believe
even facts, so long as they serve to increase the danger.”
“Precisely so; for even prudence gets to be a perverted
quality, when men are living under an infatuation
like that which now exists. These men live like
the fool who says there is no death.”
Here the gentlemen rejoined the ladies, and the carriages
drove through a succession of narrow and
crooked streets, that were lined with warehouses filled
with the products of the civilized world.
“Very much of all this is a part of the same lamentable
illusion,” said John Effingham, as the carriages
made their way slowly through the encumbered
secured by credit, fancies himself enriched, and he extends
his manner of living in proportion; the boy from
the country becomes a merchant, or what is here called
a merchant, and obtains a credit in Europe a hundred
times exceeding his means, and caters to these fancied
wants; and thus is every avenue of society thronged
with adventurers, the ephemera of the same wide-spread
spirit of reckless folly. Millions in value pass out of
these streets, that go to feed the vanity of those who
fancy themselves wealthy, because they hold some
ideal pledges for the payment of advances in price
like those mentioned by the auctioneer, and which
have some such security for the eventual payment, as
one can find in calling a thing, that is really worth a
dollar, worth a hundred.”
“Are the effects of this state of things apparent in
your ordinary associations?”
“In every thing. The desire to grow suddenly rich
has seized on all classes. Even women and clergymen
are infected, and we exist under the active control of
the most corrupting of all influences—`the love of
money.' I should despair of the country altogether,
did I not feel certain that the disease is too violent to
last, and entertain a hope that the season of calm reflection
and of repentance, that is to follow, will be in
proportion to its causes.”
After taking this view of the town, the party returned
to Hudson Square, where the baronet dined, it
being his intention to go to Washington on the following
day. The leave-taking in the evening was kind and
friendly; Mr. Effingham, who had a sincere regard for
his late fellow-traveller, cordially inviting him to visit
him in the mountains in June.
As Sir George took his leave, the bells began to ring
for a fire. In New-York one gets so accustomed to
these alarms, that near an hour had passed before any
of the Effingham family began to reflect on the long
out to ascertain the reason, and his report made the
matter more serious than usual.
We believe that in the frequency of these calamities,
the question lies between Constantinople and New-York.
It is a common occurrence for twenty or thirty
buildings to be burnt down, in the latter place, and for
the residents of the same ward to remain in ignorance
of the circumstance, until enlightened on the fact by
the daily prints; the constant repetition of the alarms
hardening the ear and the feelings against the appeal.
A fire of greater extent than common, had occurred
only a night or two previously to this; and a rumour
now prevailed, that the severity of the weather, and
the condition of the hoses and engines, rendered the
present danger double. On hearing this intelligence,
the Messrs. Effinghams wrapped themselves up in their
over-coats, and went together into the streets.
“This seems something more than usual, Ned,” said
John Effingham, glancing his eye upward at the lurid
vault, athwart which gleams of fiery light began to
shine; “the danger is not distant, and it seems serious.”
Following the direction of the current, they soon
found the scene of the conflagration, which was in the
very heart of those masses of warehouses, or stores,
that John Effingham had commented on, so lately. A
short street of high buildings was already completely
in flames, and the danger of approaching the enemy,
added to the frozen condition of the apparatus, the
exhaustion of the firemen from their previous efforts,
and the intense coldness of the night, conspired to
make the aspect of things in the highest degree
alarming.
The firemen of New-York have that superiority
over those of other places, that the veteran soldier
obtains over the recruit. But the best troops can be
appalled, and, on this memorable occasion, these celebrated
time, little more than passive spectators of the terrible
scene.
There was an hour or two when all attempts at
checking the conflagration seemed really hopeless, and
even the boldest and the most persevering scarcely
knew which way to turn, to be useful. A failure of
water, the numerous points that required resistance,
the conflagration extending in all directions from a
common centre, by means of numberless irregular and
narrow streets, and the impossibility of withstanding
the intense heat, in the choked passages, soon added
despair to the other horrors of the scene.
They who stood the fiery masses, were freezing on
one side with the Greenland cold of the night, while
their bodies were almost blistered with the fierce flames
on the other. There was something frightful in this
contest of the elements, nature appearing to condense
the heat within its narrowest possible limits, as if purposely
to increase its fierceness. The effects were
awful; for entire buildings would seem to dissolve at
their touch, as the forked flames enveloped them in
sheets of fire.
Every one being afoot, within sound of the alarm,
though all the more vulgar cries had ceased, as men
would deem it mockery to cry murder in a battle, Sir
George Templemore met his friends, on the margin of
this sea of fire. It was now drawing towards morning,
and the conflagration was at its height, having
already laid waste a nucleus of blocks, and it was
extending by many lines, in every possible direction.
“Here is a fearful admonition for those who set
their hearts on riches,” observed Sir George Templemore,
recalling the conversation of the previous day.
“What, indeed, are the designs of man, as compared
with the will of Providence!”
“I foresee that this is le commencement de la fin,”
returned John Effingham. “The destruction is already
safe-guards against such losses, and one pin knocked
out of so frail and delicate a fabric, the whole will
become loose, and fall to pieces.”
“Will nothing be done to arrest the flames?”
“As men recover from the panic, their plans will
improve and their energies will revive. The wider
streets are already reducing the fire within more certain
limits, and they speak of a favourable change of
wind. It is thought five hundred buildings have already
been consumed, in scarcely half a dozen hours.”
That Exchange, which had so lately resembled a
bustling temple of Mammon, was already a dark and
sheeted ruin, its marble walls being cracked, defaced,
tottering, or fallen. It lay on the confines of the ruin,
and our party was enabled to take their position near
it, to observe the scene. All in their immediate vicinity
was assuming the stillness of desolation, while the
flushes of fierce light in the distance marked the progress
of the conflagration. Those who knew the
localities, now began to speak of the natural or accidental
barriers, such as the water, the slips, and the
broader streets, as the only probable means of arresting
the destruction. The crackling of the flames grew
distant fast, and the cries of the firemen were now
scarcely audible.
At this period in the frightful scene, a party of seamen
arrived, bearing powder, in readiness to blow up
various buildings, in the streets that possessed of themselves,
no sufficient barriers to the advance of the
flame. Led by their officers, these gallant fellows,
carrying in their arms the means of destruction, moved
up steadily to the verge of the torrents of fire, and
planted their kegs; laying their trains with the hardy
indifference that practice can alone create, and with
an intelligence that did infinite credit to their coolness.
This deliberate courage was rewarded with complete
under the dull explosions, happily without an accident.
From this time the flames became less ungovernable,
though the day dawned and advanced, and another
night succeeded, before they could be said to be got
fairly under, Weeks, and even months passed, however,
ere the smouldering ruins ceased to send up
smoke, the fierce element continuing to burn, like a
slumbering volcano, as it might be in the bowels of
the earth.
The day that succeeded this disaster, was memorable
for the rebuke it gave the rapacious longing for
wealth. Men who had set their hearts on gold, and
who prided themselves on their possession, and on that
only, were made to feel its insanity; and they who had
walked abroad as gods, so lately, began to experience
how utterly insignificant are the merely rich, when
stripped of their possessions. Eight hundred buildings,
containing fabrics of every kind, and the raw material
in various forms, had been destroyed, as it were in the
twinkling of an eye.
A faint voice was heard from the pulpit, and there
was a moment when those who remembered a better
state of things, began to fancy that principles would
once more assert their ascendency, and that the community
would, in a measure, be purified. But this expectation
ended in disappointment, the infatuation being
too wide-spread and corrupting, to be stopped by even
this check, and the rebuke was reserved for a form
that seems to depend on a law of nature, that of
causing a vice to bring with it its own infallible punishment.
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