ELIZABETH A. HALL George Washington Flowers Memorial Collection ESTABLISHED BY THE FAMILY OF COLONEL FLOWERS | | | DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY | RAN aN ANON AN ne Aaa “AA ‘) A ae Vy An : | | } es | ane . ya Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2022 with funding from Duke University Libraries https://archive.org/details/frompovertytople00snow B/) os Ge — CA-Avt 7 _ Att OZ Sh nal ae a Lay s WN ma te ys > “S ™ SSS ‘ - uy :
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by my brother, who was left almost penniless. When
I arrived in New Orleans, some two weeks afterwards,
I found my brother selling West-India fruit, such as
bananas, &c., at a public stand.
SLAVERY AS I SAW IT.
There became acquainted with the working of slavery
as never before. When in Indiana, the slaves used to
cross the Ohio River to trade. They would come about
midnight, with as much bacon as they could carry, and
rap gently at the door, saying, ‘‘ Master, we want to
trade.” The articles most in demand would be bleached
cotton cloth and morocco shoes of large size. These
were for their sweethearts, or for some one who was
to be married. I learned that a slave scarcely ever
married one on the same plantation. Their morals —
were very low. They would steal right before your
eyes. But the slaves in Kentucky were of a higher ~
grade than in Louisiana. My brother and I had our
quarters with the overseer. He was always very social
with us, but he treated the slaves of his deceased em-
ployer very much as some men treat beasts of burden.
The white man of the South did not think much more
of a slave than he did of his dog, if, indeed, he did as
much. They were allowed so much corn a week, which
they had to prepare for food by pounding in a mortar and
baking on a board by the fire. This they must do after
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 75
they had toiled all day picking cotton; and then sleep
in a log hut, on the straw. Truly, of all men, they
were the most miserable. They had no care bestowed
upon them unless to fix them up a little for market.
In that State most of the planters had their slaves locat-
ed near them. Passing down the Mississippi, you |
would, every now and then, pass a plantation which
looked like a village ; the slave-holder’s house being in
the centre, painted white, with its veranda around it.
In after years, when a merchant in Boston, and doing
more or less business in Virginia, one time on my way
to Richmond from Alexandria there came on board the
cars a man with half a dozen slaves of both sexes, who
looked as if they had been badly treated; but, as he
was on his way with them to market, they were dressed
up very neatly. On my arrival at Richmond, almost
the first thing I saw that attracted my attention was a
slave auction ; and, seeing a crowd gathering, Yankee-
like, I went in with the rest, though not a slave buyer.
I learned here that there were a class of men who made
it their business to come North as far as Virginia, to
buy slaves for the southern market, as: Virginia was
what was called a slave-breeding state.
Looking around the auction-room, to my surprise, I
saw the very slaves for sale that I had seen the day be-
fore. The room was nearly full of the hardest looking
set I ever saw, smoking, chewing, swearing, ete. Very
soon a woman was put up for sale, and one after another
76 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
of these brutes of men would go on to the platform and
examine her as you would examine an animal, to see if
they were sound, or if they had any scars where they
had been whipped, ‘all of which was disgusting to a
Northern man, and I left the auction-room in perfect
disgust of slavery in its worst form, here witnessed.
But to return to my narrative.
I went up the river daily some six or eight miles to
watch for a boat bound down the river. Finally I
hailed a flat-boat from Kentucky bound to New Orleans,
loaded with live turkeys. I engaged this boat to take
my flour, and what of my stock of goods were left, to
New Orleans, and left the plantation for good, slaves
and all. . as
It being the season for ripe oranges, the captain «
the boat would frequently haul up and exchange a s
turkey for the delicious fruit ; and now and then sell
barrel of sour meal, which, on account of the abundance
of salt it contained, could not be distinguished from the.
good. We finally arrived safely at New Orleans, where
I sold out the balance of my flour to a gentignas wha
shipped it to Savannah. a
After closing up the business of the trip, I found my- AS
self in possession of about four hundred dollars, being
about the same amount with which I started. This, I
confess, was not a very brilliant speculation. I at e
took passage on board a steamer for Louisville, stop-
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 77
ping at Natchez to exchange my currency for gold and
silver. Having secured the specie, I gave the clerk of
the boat one per cent. to keep it for me. The boat
was crowded with persons who were returning from
New Orleans, having been there to sell produce.
On these boats were always to be found large numbers
of professed gamblers, seeking to draw into their net
men who had a little money and less wisdom, and they
very often succeeded, so that frequently men who left
New Orleans with a considerable sum, before they
-reached Louisville had lost it all. Night and day as
they moved up the Mississippi, gambling, drinking,
and what is called ‘high life below stairs,” was the
common practice, making it a floating earthly hell.
It was one of the conditions that deck passengers
help wood-up at each stopping place. I, being a deck
passenger, was obliged to do my part.
On my arrival at Louisville, I engaged passage on
board another steamer for Lawrenceburg, where I ar-
rived safely, after a few days, with my four hundred
dollars and a barrel of oranges, which I purchased in
New Orleans.
~ L engaged board with Mrs Morgan, my old landlady,
and then hired a small room, and with my barrel of
oranges, which was my present stock in trade, com-
menced business.
I seem to have been born to trade. It was my life.
I could not be idle, ‘and whenever I moved it was in
78 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
the direction of trade. I seriously contemplated engag-
ing in business, either in Lawrenceburg or Cincinnati,
but a very sad event occurred which thwarted my in-
tentions.
DEATH OF MY ONLY BROTHER.
I received the unexpected intelligence that my only
brother, Godfrey, had been suddenly killed on board
the steamer ‘‘ Velocipede,” on her way up the Mississippi
River. The manner of his death was appalling. He
was caught in the machinery and instantly carried
through a place not more than six inches wide, literally
tearing him into fragments, and leaving him a shapeless
mass of human flesh and bones. His remains were
gathered up and buried by strangers at Big Bend, and
a simple board marked the place where they laid him.
This sad event produced a profound impression upon
my mind. I was in doubt what to do. ‘
I had now been absent from New England about
three years, and it was not strange that in this hour of
affliction my mind should turn towards the home of my _
mother and only sister. But, undecided as to my fu-
ture, I went to Cincinnati, where I spent three or four
days, promenading the streets, and looking for a suita-
ble location for trade. But not finding one in Market
Street, where the chief business, such as I wished to en-
gage in, was done, and being depressed in spirit, and
longing for home again, I felt that an over-ruling Proy-
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 79
idence directed my steps eastward. The death of my
brother, my failure to find a proper place for business,
and a strong desire to see home once more, determined
me not to settle in Cincinnati, but to come North, and
secure, if possible, what I supposed might be a share
of my mother’s property, accumulated before her second
marriage; after which I thought I might return and
settle in Indiana or Cincinnati. This was in the spring
of 1824. ©
In company with a young friend who was coming
North, I took passage on board a steamer bound for
Wheeling, Va. Here, for convenience, I changed my
specie for United-States bills, which were current every-
where, tying them around my body for safe keeping.
Having agreed with a teamster to take my trunk, I
started on foot from Wheeling to Baltimore, travelling
for some days in company with the team; sometimes
falling behind and then going ahead, and stopping occa-
sionally to visit the coal mines, which were to me a
great curiosity. I left the team, the teamster agreeing
to meet me at a given time in Baltimore, on Howard
‘Street. The trunk contained twenty-five dollars in sil-
ver. But very fortunately for the owner, it did not
look as though it was worth, all told, five dollars, which
fact saved my trunk, which I found all safe on my ar-
rival in Baltimore.
After I left the team I journeyed along leisurely,
looking at all of the objects of interest by the way, as I
80 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
only cared to reach Baltimore in time to secure my
trunk.
After about two weeks of travel I arrived at Cum~
berland, at the foot of the Alleghany Mountains. My
long and wearisome journey, through dust and mud,
without a change of clothing, gave me a most unattrac-
tive appearance. In this situation I did not go to a
first-class, but to a second-class hotel. I applied for
lodging, but was told by the landlord, after he had eyed
me from head to foot, that they were full. I judged
. that that was not the real cause, but rather my looks.
Had the landlord known that under that rough, dirty
exterior, was stowed away four hundred dollars, he
might have found a place forme. I crossed the street to
a first-class hotel, and was entertained without any ques-
tions being asked. I retired early, and in the morning
was surprised to find my shoes finely polished, a luxury
they had never before known.
After breakfast I went out to look about the city,
and in my travels I came to the levee, where a number
of flat-boats were loading with flour and other articles
of produce, for Georgetown, D.C. Learning that they
were hiring men for the trip, for about six dollars, Yan-
kee-like the thought suggested itself to me that I might
let myself and make six dollars, which was better than
nothing, and at the same time not go far out of my way.
I applied for a berth, but the captain, thinking me to
be a green hand, declined to employ me, not knowing
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 81
that I was better acquainted with boats and river boat-
ing than the captain and owner together.
Turning away to go to my hotel, I heard the captain
say to the owner that the boat leaked badly and he
must have an extra hand asa bailer. The owner called,
«« Stranger, come back!” I quickly obeyed, and was
asked if I would ship as bailer. I responded in the af-
firmative, for I was ready to.do anything that would save
my funds and help me on my way to Baltimore. I en-
gaged for six dollars for the trip. The captain inquired,
‘‘How must.I pay you?” ‘*Money, of course,”
I responded. ‘‘ No,” said the owner, ‘‘ you must take
it out of the store; that is the way we usually pay our
men.”
Seeing that I was not likely to receive cash, and anx-
ious to secure my board, and get homeward without
travel on foot, I went to the store to see what I could
find. I saw nothing that I could turn to good purpose
except some Irish linen, which I thought would make
good shirts; something which I should need on my ar-
rival in Baltimore. So I took six dollars’ worth of
linen, and rolled it up into as small a package as pos-
sible, and having no other place for it, I put it into the
top of my high-topped woollen hat. And having no
other baggage, I went on board immediately, and re-
ported myself for duty. As I commenced labor, my
hat became inconveniently top-heavy, and would fre-
quently fall off; but always, being the heaviest at the
top, it would fall so as not to wet my Irish linen.
82 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
The crew consisted of captain, two oarsmen and bail-
er. When all ready, the captain cast off from the pier,
and the boat shot down with the current of the river
with great rapidity. The captain, with a long oar, at
the stern, was steering; the two men at the bow row-
ing, and I in the centre bailing. It was about all I
could do to keep her clear. After a while, becoming
somewhat tired, I asked the captain to let one of the
men give me a spell, and let me row. The captain
asked, with some surprise, if I could row. This was a
strange question to ask a young Cape Cod man. I re-
plied that I could. The man at the bow was ordered
to spell me, and taking my seat at the oar, I put in all
my strength, to convince the captain that I was the equal
of any of them. After a while I heard the captain say
to the man who spelled me, ‘* That fellow knows how
to row, don’t he?” ‘* Yes,” I replied, ‘ and I know
how to steer, too, and would like to spell you.” The
captain asked if I could steer, and, being informed that
I could, he consented to spell me, taking the oar and I
the helm. Having obtained command of the boat I
kept it until we arrived near Georgetown, at about
twelve o’clock at night. This was the first time in my
life that in the space of twenty-four hours I shipped a
bailer and came out captain.
There were no conveniences for sleeping in the boat,
so we hauled her up and built a fire, and sought to ob-
tain rest in the following manner: We cut down
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 83
trees and arranged one log for our heads, another for
our bodies, and another for our feet — our feet being to-
ward the fire. I was comforted with the remark that
that was the way the Indians made their beds, — rather
uncomfortable, I thought, as the ground was wet, it
having rained the fore part of the night. I could not
sleep, but turned over, much as they turned meat in
olden times when roasting it in a tin-kitchen.
I left the boat the next morning, and, with my Irish
linen in the top of my hat (for I held on to that, being
nearly shirtless), I started on foot for Baltimore. -In
consequence of sleeping out in the open air, and general
exposure, I had an attack of the fever and ague. But
notwithstanding my shakes, I stopped at a tavern and
called for breakfast, which was readily furnished, con-
‘sisting of ham and eggs, a favorite dish in the West,
and one to which I did ample justice.
The distance to Baltimore was about forty miles. I
arrived there the next day, in good condition, and made
for Howard Street, where I found my trunk with its
contents all safe, greatly to my comfort.
- I engaged board with an English family residing near
the wharf, where lay the Boston packets, a sight of
which made me feel that I was nearing home. My
wardrobe greatly needing replenishing, I mustered cour-
age and bought me some clothes, and in a few days
came out with a new suit from top to toe.
I spent about two weeks in Baltimore, seeing all the
84 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
sights of the town, and then engaged passage on board
the brig ‘‘ Algerene,” for Boston. The fare, which I
paid down, was ten dollars, including board.
At the mouth of the Potomac we encountered a ter-
rible gale. With both anchors down she drifted. It
seemed that she must be dashed upon the shore; but the
captain, as a last resort, cast out the kedge and hawser,
and, though not possessing much power to hold, it was -
just enough, with the aid of the other anchors, to keep
her off the shore, and we were saved. With nothing
farther of special interest on the voyage, we arrived at
Hyannis in about a week, where the captain and crew
belonged. Being only about twenty miles from my
home in Orleans, the captain asked why I did not go
home. I replied that I had paid my fare to Boston,
and I was going through. I was determined to get my
-money’s worth.
It was a common practice in Hyannis, when a vessel
became wind-bound, for the crew to get up a dance.
They did so in this case; and, as the mate took a liking
to me, I was invited to attend ; an invitation with which
I was much pleased. The mate being interested in me,
asked a young lady to accept my company for the night,
a practice very common on the Cape at that time. She-
replied that she would not care to accept the company
of a wind-bound passenger ; a decision in which I heart-
ily coincided, it being a mark not only of her good judg-
ment, but of her prudenee. This ended my courtship
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 85
for the time, at least, at Hyannis; though, some years
after, when settled in business on North Side, I passed
through Hyannis and became more intimately acquaint-
ed with the young lady, and more fully justified her
prudence, and commended her good sense, in not keep-
ing company with a wind-bound passenger with whom
she had no acquaintance.
Leaving Hyannis, in twenty-four hours we arrived
safely in Boston, and after attending to some little mat-
ters of business, I took passage on board a sloop bound
to Orleans, and, in due time, arrived safely at home,
aiter an absence of three years.
My dear old mother met me with open arms and
tearful eyes, saying, ‘‘Is this my boy, my only boy?”
She had just received the painful intelligence of the
death of her oldest son Godfrey, as before described.
Thus ended my Western adventures. After an ab-
sence of three years I had returned home with about the
same amount of money I had when I left. This was a
speculation not greatly to be coveted.
In the language of Mrs. Frances K. @niler, I could
say :—
“T love that dear old home! My mother lived there
Her first sweet married years, and last sad widowed ones.
The sunlight there seems to me brighter far -
Than wheresoever else. I know the forms
Of every tree and cove, and hill and dell;
Its waves’ majestic breaking on the shore I know; —
It is my home.”
8
CHAPTER VII.
DEFEAT AND VICTORY.
“Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.”
— Longfellow.
FTER remaining at home some three weeks and
-™* visiting all my old comrades and acquaintances,
I began to look about for something to do, a subject
that always seemed as natural to me as my life. In fact,
I took as naturally to business as a duck to water. My
only plan for the future was a dim idea of returning,
at no distant day, to Ohio.
I had been educated a baker. It was the only busi-
ness I understood; and though not exactly suited to
my genius, I was ready to engage in it again at any
favorable opening.
Standing one day by the public highway, I heard the
jingle of bells, —no unfamiliar sound to me,—an-
nouncing to the neighborhood that the baker was ap-
proaching. The cart soon arrived and I entered into
86
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 87
conversation with the driver, whom I found to be the
owner. I learned also that his name was Johnston, for-
merly of New Bedford, and at that time engaged in
cracker baking at West Barnstable. Being a man of
fine figure, rather prepossessing, and withal well post-
ed in the business, he impressed me very favorably ; so
much so, that I-proposed to let myself to him, to work
in his bake-house. He did not care to employ me, but
intimated that he would prefer to have me for a partner.
He spoke of the necessity of having some one interested
in the business, who could take charge of the bake-
house while the other was on the road. This all seemed
quite plausible. He spoke of the value of the route,
commanding all the Cape trade. The prospect for
business seemed very hopeful. Without much delay
we agreed upon terms of co-partnership, neither being
very definite as to how much capital each should fur-
nish. Before we parted we agreed to meet in a few
days at Mr. Johnston’s bake-house and arrange some
plan of operation.
Believing all the baker-had said relative to the busi-
ness, I, in a few days, hired the preacher’s horse (Rev.
Mr. Johnson’s), and started on horse-back for West
Barnstable. (Ministers and doctors were about all the
men in those days in Orleans who kept horses.) On my
arrival the next day, I found Mr. Johnston at his bake-
house, according to agreement, patiently awaiting the
arrival of his new partner. I soon found that my hopes
88 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR,
were somewhat in advance of my judgment. “Mr. J.
made many representations, all of which I afterwards
found to be untrue. On the whole I did not like the
look of things. We finally settled the conditions of
co-partnership, and were to meet in Boston the week
following, to purchase a stock of flour, to take an in-
ventory of stock, and fix upon its value. This stock
(not including a covered wagon, which he said was
building for him in Cambridge, but which never came
to light) was to be part of the capital.
True to my promise, I was on hand at the time ap-
pointed, but my new partner did not report for duty. I
waited patiently for some time, and then went over to
Cambridge to see the new wagon, but failed to find any
such carriage in process of building. Things began to
look a little suspicious, and I was half inclined to aban-
don the whole matter. Just at this juncture I received
a very plausible letter from my partner, giving as an
excuse for not meeting me there, that business had pre-
vented. An unexpected demand for pilot-bread from
Chatham prevented his coming to Boston. He con-
cluded, in view of such demand, that it would be for
the interest of both that he should remain and attend to
the demands for bread, at the same time requesting me
to purchase some flour, as per memorandum, and come
up in the Barnstable packet.
Though I did not seem to understand the movement,
and was fearful that something was out of joint, I final-
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 89
ly concluded to do so. It was not long before the fact
was made to appear that want of money was the cause.
He had no money, and his credit was low, both in Barn-
stable and New Bedford, and this was the trick by
which he sought to, and did, deceive me, and thus
fleeced me of my little all. I invésted about two hun-
dred and fifty dollars in stock, and in due time report-
ed myself at the bake-house ready for business. Mr.
J. seemed right glad to see his new partner, and well
he might, for he was about bankrupt. He had in his
employ one man and a boy, who, I found, did not take
to me, as I worked myself and kept them at it. Before
my coming they had it all their own way — work as
they pleased; but now they were obliged to keep at
it. This did not please them, so they left and went
to New Bedford, leaving me nearly alone, as Johnston
was out on his route most of the time. As they de-
parted, some one asked them why they were leaving.
They replied, that there had come a great snow-bank
from off the Cape, and they could not stand it. It was
not long before matters looked squally. Johnston left
one day for Chatham with a load of crackers. About
ten o’clock, a. M., he returned, saying that he had bro-
ken his wagon, and that while it was being mended he
had returned to see how they were getting along with
the baking; when, as the fact soon came out, he had
been arrested by the sheriff for debt, and had returned
to get what money he had on hand, that with this and
90 THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW.
the mortgaging of the horse and wagon, and the proceeds
of his load of bread, he might stave off the matter for a
time. Nothing was said to me about the matter, and,
as Johnston was treasurer of the firm, for a time he suc-
ceeded in concealing it. But it soon came out that he
had courted one girl more than he could marry, and to
compromise the matter had agreed to pay a certain sum
of money in instalments, and the cause of his wagon
getting out of repair was the falling due of one of these
instalments, and the claim being pressed by the sheriff.
Soon after, we dissolved partnership, and I employed
Johnston on a salary of four dollars a week. This
could hardly support a man and his wife. I boarded
with him, occupying a small back room which was also
used as a kitchen. My trunk, which had crossed the
mountains safely with twenty-five dollars in silver in it,
was my only deposit for what money I had left, amount-
ing to about one hundred and twenty-five dollars; and,
such was my confidence in New England honesty, that I
did not even keep it locked, but left it standing in a clos-
et inmy room. During my absence on my route, John-
ston not having much to do, I locked up the bake-house
and kept the key. But some of the neighbors, who had
been informed that we had dissolved, notified me that
he frequently visited the bake-house, taking there-
from flour and crackers. I took an order for some ship-
bread, and, on my return, went to my trunk to get
some money to purchase some flour, and to my aston-
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 91
ishment, I found that some one had stolen it. I learn-
ed that during my absence Johnston had been to New
Bedford to pay another instalment due the disappointed
woman. I made considerable stir about my loss, and
he seemed to manifest a good deal of interest in
the case, as the theft occurred in the room which was
occupied by his family. Soon after, as it reflected on
some of the family, Mr. Bussly, who owned the house,
asked me if Johnston had any right in my absence to
enter the bake-house and take flour and crackers for
family use, saying that he had seen him do so repeat-
édly. This aroused my suspicion, and I charged him
with stealing from my bake-house, which he denied, but
when informed that Mr. Bussly saw him, he owned up,
confessed, and declared himself ready to pay whatever
I demanded. This led me to suspect that he had taken
the money, and so confident was I of it, that I charged
him with the theft; but he denied it. I informed him
that I should take counsel upon the subject. I left next
day on my route, and on my return I found that John-
ston had left town, and was never seen by me for more
than twenty years. He had arranged for his family to
meet him just out of town, near Sandwich, and that
was the last of them. But I found myself in a sad pre-
dicament. I was among strangers, moneyless and
friendless, all through the dishonesty of Johnson, and
my own reputation not very high. I had trusted a
man-who seemed honest, and had been robbed of my
92 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR,
all. I had been absent from New England about three
years, much of the time carrying from three hundred
and fifty to four hundred dollars in a belt around my
body for safe keeping ; and now, at home, on old Cape
Cod, where I was born and educated, and taught to be-
lieve, and did believe, that everybody was strictly hon-
est, — here I was robbed of nearly all I had. I had
commenced business in July, with nearly four hundred
dollars, and by the middle of August I had lost all, ex-
cept an old horse, which I afterwards sold for twenty-
five dollars ; a wagon for ten, about half-a-dozen bar-
rels of flour, and a few bakers’ tools. We had baked
nearly all the flour, and Johnston had appropriated the
proceeds to his own use, besides taking what little
money I. had saved from the hard earnings of some
years. This was a hard look for a young man.
To start so hopefully, and in six weeks to become so
nearly bankrupt, was far worse, if possible, than my
Indianapolis ‘‘linsey-woolsey” speculation. It did
seem as if I was embayed among rocks and shallows,
with no open sea before me. I confess I was in a di-
lemma, and nothing but a cool head and a determined
purpose could have extricated me ; and, but for a single
tie that bound me, I should have left West Barnstable
never to return, to seek my fortune in some other
place ; if, in fact, there was any for me.
I had been in Barnstable about one month when I
became acquainted with a young lady; and, strange to
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 93
say, I had become very much attached to her, and had
actually offered myself to her: This was not a little
strange even to me, as I had been wandering around
the world for some three or four years, had seen a
great many young ladies, but never felt myself particu-
larly drawn to any one. But I had not been in West
Barnstable many weeks before I found one in whose
company I was happy; and why, under all the circum-
stances, she should have chosen me for a husband,
among the many young men of the town, whose parents
were well to do, —one like myself, a poor friendless
stranger, —I could not comprehend. But so it was, on
the principle that love goes where it is sent.
Her parents were not wealthy, but were what were
called in those times, fair livers. They resided on a
farm belonging to the old Otis family of Revolutionary
times. (A marble bust of one of this family — James
Otis — now stands in the chapel at Mount Auburn.)
I heard nothing more of Johnston until some twenty
years after. When I had moved to, and was doing busi-
ness in, Boston, he turned up at Gloucester. His fath-
er had died and he succeeded him in business.
After I had recovered from my surprise at Johnston’s
conduct, and taken an inventory of what was left, con-
sisting of six barrels of flour, one horse and wagon, and
a few bakers’ tools, — worth to me, if I continued in the
business, about one hundred dollars; if not, they could
not have been sold for fifty dollars, —I seriousiy con-
94 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
sidered what was best todo. The only tie which bound
me here and influenced me in my purpose to remain,
was the young lady before named. A wonderful Proy-
idence seemed to direct me, and the same principle
which prompted me to come from New Orleans to Law-
renceburg to save a friend who was my bondsman, in-
fluenced me to remain here as I had promised.
I was a comparative stranger in town. My connec-
tion with Johnston had left a suspicion on my character,
and whenever I mentioned my loss, a near neighbor, —
a tavern keeper, whose only business was to supply the
people with that liquid fire which is akin to hell, and
thus robbing them of their money and what little char-
acter they had, — would say, ‘‘ I don’t believe he has lost
any money. I never saw a baker have as much money,
and I do not believe it.” This was cold comfort for
me. It only showed how much sympathy was mani-
fested toward me.
I knew of no one I could really call a friend, except
in the family of which the young lady was a member.
I was maligned and suspected. What could Ido? To
‘do something I must. The tavern keeper owned the
bake-house, and he was not friendly. Like myself, he
had thought much of Johnston, but he had left clandes- 3
tinely, owing him a small bill, as well as others. Thad
but little money, but my affection for her, who in the
following January became my wife, settled the matter,
and I resolved to make an effort. I could but fail as I
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 95
had done before, but I was resolved to try, and try I
did, but I confess it was against wind and tide.
Obtaining the best help I could, which was very
poor, I commenced. My crackers were only second
quality, and I am satisfied that no one could sell such
bread but he who made it. I had to compete with the
bakers at Sandwich and Kingston, and nothing but en-
ergy and skill as a salesman could work it off. But go
it must, and go it did.
Here I learned that few men understand really what
there is in them, until they are put to the test. With
me, it was life or death; and as Satan said to Job, —
‘< All that a man hath will he give for his life.” Noth-
ing daunted I pressed on, surmounting obstacles and
overcoming difficulties which but few in my condition
could have mastered.
My plan of labor was, to spend ten days in making
faggots in the woods, and cart them to the bake-house ;
then ten days at baking, and then ten on my route.
Often, to annoy me, the owner of the land on which
I cut and bound my faggots, would, in my absence, cut
the withes that bound them, and spread the faggots over
the stumps to protect the young sprouts.
One day, about two weeks after Johnston’s depart-
ure, I was in the woods gathering faggots. After I
had loaded my wagon, I went to bridle my horse, which
had been browsing, and as I attempted to put the bri-
dle on his head, he dodged. I looked to discover the
96 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
cause, and found a sore between his ears. Having
some little knowledge of horses, I at once suspected
that it was what is called pole evil, an incurable disease,
and which would, in a short time, prove fatal. In our
co-partnership I had allowed Johnston eighty dollars
for the horse, and it was about all I had left. One may
judge of the effect which this discovery must have had
upon my nervous, sensitive nature. I felt that I must
give up. I had already passed through enough to kill
a common man, or drive him to desperation.
The thought of losing my horse, about all that I had
to depend upon in carrying on my baking business, was
too much for me to endure. I sat down on a stump
near by and wept like a child. I felt that all was gone,
and I was a ruined man, and, but for a tie which had
been strengthened by time, and which in honor and love
held me, I should have fled from West Barnstable.
But if I had so determined, I had little or nothing to
go with, nowhere to go, no one to pity me, and noth-
.ing that I could do. I had been a sailor, and tried my
fortune on the sea; I had worked on a farm to little
purpose; had worked as journeyman baker, and had
set up and failed in business; I had tried my fortune
im the far West, and at New Orleans; had crossed the
Alleghany Mountains on foot to save money; had ship- -
ped a bailer and come out captain ; — and here I was at
last, in West Barnstable woods, almost penniless, and
without a friend to pity or care forme. Take it all in
all, it was the most painful hour of my life.
ve
1 SAT DOWN AND WEPT LIKE A CHILD.
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 97
But, like a calm philosopher, I looked up and said
to myself, there is no other way but to stick to what
little I have, horse or no horse, and to give all there
is of me to business, even if I fail. Whatever the
result might be, I should have the satisfaction of having
done the best that it was possible for a mortal man to
do, and nothing to condemn myself for in the future.
On that stump my future was determined upon. I
wish I could discover the location. I think I would
build around it an iron fence, and cause to be placed
upon it the motto, ‘‘ Never pEspair! Horr on—
HOPE EVER! VICTORY WILL COME BY AND By!”
As I raised myself from that stump, and wiped away
my tears, I-seemed to feel that there was no such word
as fail. In thinking of that hour, it has often reminded
me of what Richelieu said to a young man. Handing
him an important package, he said, ‘‘ Young man, be
blithe: mark you, from the day you take this package,
fortune smiles upon you.” ‘‘ But,” replied the boy,
‘should I fail to deliver it?” ‘* Fail!” said Richelieu :
‘¢in the bright lexicon of youth there is no such word
as fail.” To a determined man, ordinary success, at
least, is sure. In this spirit I resolved to go ahead.
From that moment an inwaré assurance of success
seemed to come upon me. I seemed to be a new man,
and from that period in my life I took a ‘‘ new depart-
”?
ure.” I was without friends and without means, but
-with an eye steadily fixed on the end, and a purpose ©
3 9
98 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
firm as the rock in mid-ocean, I said: ** J will sueceed
in business!” My success, to be sure, came slowly,
but it came. I never looked backward, but onward
and upward. Step by step I mounted the thorny path-
way of life, scarcely stopping to pluck a flower by the
way.
I used to bake four barrels of crackers per day, and
when I was out, sell four barrels. I was told, for my
comfort, that no baker could live in Barnstable ; but six
months from the day I sat on that stump in Barnstable
woods, I was married and had regained all I had lost
by Johnston. My success greatly stimulated my cour-
age, and I felt assured that if I was industrious and
prudent I should reach the acme of my ambition.
A MISGUIDED ACT.
Previous to my marriage I mixed more or less
with young people; and, while it did not cause me
to slacken my zeal in business, it did furnish a little
temporary enjeyment. I was frank, free, and honest
with all. There was a family in the village by the
name of Whitman. Mr. W. was the parish doctor,
and was reputed wealthy; and, as is often the case,
the sons were rather wild. Thinking that their father
was rich, they did but little work on the farm, but spent
much of their time at the old tavern, near my bake-
house. While others frequented the tavern for grog,
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 99
as it was called, I never allowed myself to drink. But
being fond of social life, I mixed considerably with
them, and was always ready for a good time whenever
the opportunity was furnished.
In the month of September, one of the Whitman boys
about my age, came to me and said, ‘‘ The Bodfishes
have some fine melons, not far off; come, let us make +
the melon patch a visit.” I readily entertained the
proposition. We took two young ladies, daughters of
Jabez Howland, the tavern keeper, and off we started,
Whitman leading the way. In due time we reached .
the melon patch. All was still —not a dog barking to
give an alarm. We each took a melon, without con-
sulting the owner, and came back to a Mr. Bursely’s,
opposite the old tavern, and there, with some of the
neighbors who dropped in, we feasted on stolen melons.
When Mr. Howland found out what had been done,
and that his daughters were in the company, he became
greatly exasperated at me, though he said but little to
my companion, Whitman, for the reason, no doubt, that
he was one of his best customers for liquor, as were
also the Bodfishes. Being influenced by interest, and
not morality, there seemed no one to pounce upon but
poor me. I was to be the scapegoat in the whole
transaction.
Our melon affair became quite public. Though we
had a jolly time over it, the end was not so pleasant.
Bodfish hearing of it, reported to Howland; and he,
100 ._ FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
to clear his daughters, and not have his rum-selling in-
terest affected by it, laid it all to the young baker, who
had just commenced business in town.
There was a meeting called of all the neighbors, and
the melon question was thoroughly discussed. It was
agreed that it was a terrible thing, and that the like had
‘never been known before in the quiet village of Great
Marshes. Each one volunteered his opinion, and it
was finally agreed that we, to save a-law-suit, should
pay one dollar each for the melons. And so young
Whitman, who had been the: sole mover in the whole
matter, came to me and said that he would write a re-
ceipt for four dollars to cover the whole loss, and, as
Bodfish could not read, I could go and pay them one
dollar and they would sign the receipt for the whole.
So I dressed myself up in my best clothes and called
on the family, who were all gathered together, expect-
ing
g, and even waiting for my coming. I introduced
myself as best I could, expressing my great sorrow at
what I had done, and then offered them the receipt to
sign, inclosing the one dollar. They took it into an-
other room, examined the paper and returned it to me
signed. I bid them good evening and left, feeling
that I had got off cheap, though all the money came
out of me.
I was used by Whitman as a cat’s-paw to pull the
chestnuts out of the fire. The result was, that when
they discovered the deception, and that they had signed
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. : 101
a receipt for four dollars and only received one, they
became my life-long enemies, so much so that when my
wife’s sister was married into the family, I was not in-
vited to the wedding, and ever after, when I called on
them, her husband would not come into the house.
The melon affair, and my connection with Johnston,
did not add greatly to my reputation in that town. I
was watched and suspected by all. But the exercise
of an indomitable will bore down all opposition ; and,
thank God, in the end I triumphed. Surely I had a
hard time of it. Iworked on, day and night, in no way
sparing myself. This was the only secret of my suc-
cess.
CHAPTER VIII.
A NEW DEPARTURE.
‘‘The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear,
Shall never sag by doubt, nor shake with fear.”
— Shakspeare.
** Like a mountain loan and bleak, ’
With its sky-encompass’d peak,
i Thunder riven,
Lifting its forehead bear,
Through the cold and blighting air,
Up to heaven,
Is the soul that feels its woe,
And is nerv’d to bear the blow.”
— Mrs. Hale.
N January, 1825, I was married, and at once com-
menced house-keeping. Taking an inventory of my
assets, I found that I was worth five hundred and fifty
dollars, an increase of four hundred and fifty dollars in
four months; and at the close of one year from the
time Johnston left me, I was worth one thousand dol-
lars. How I had earned it was astonishing to me—
almost a miracle. But there was the evidence before
me — figures would not lie.
This, to me, remarkable success, settled all doubt in-
102
ad Ad
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 103
my mind as to the possibility of success. I hired a
small place near my bake-house, for. twenty-five dollars
a year. It included an old house, about six acres of
land, a small orchard, a garden patch, and a cow pas-
ture. I was now started in married life in good earn-
est. My furniture was not elaborate nor expensive, —
the whole amounting to not more than one hundred
and twenty-five dollars; no carpet except now and
then a rug made by my wife, and only one feather bed,
which did not give us the opportunity of accommodat-
ing many country cousins. I did not relax my energy
nor allow my expenses to increase. I toiled night and
day, resolved to conquer on this line. Living near the
bake-house, my wife soon became very useful to me in
my business. She was a helpmeet indeed. Nothing
but poverty can teach one the necessity of economy, and
even this fails at times.
One little incident took place soon after we com-
menced keeping house, which I regretted at the time.
My mother came to visit us, and as we had but one
feather bed, we allowed her to occupy-a straw bed. In
the morning she said, ‘* David, have you but one feath-
er bed?” I answered that I had not. The next
time I saw her she gave me some money, saying, ‘‘ Buy
a feather bed, so that the next time I visit you I may
not have to sleep on straw.” This circumstance, un-
pleasant as it was to me, enabled us to add another
feather bed to our stock of furniture.
104 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
I laid in my winter’s provision for house-keeping, but
on more serious reflection I concluded it would be
cheaper to board. A Mrs. Crocker, near by, proposed
to board us for three dollars per week. As I was to be
absent much of the time, and my wife would be alone,
and as I could not run the machine of house-keeping
for three dollars a week, I concluded to suspend house-
keeping and board.
As my business and family began to increase, I felt
that it was important that I should add to my income.
I had no rich relatives to fall back upon in ease of acci-
dent or sickness. It was work or die: so I worked day
and night with a will. I was determined to lay up
something against a rainy day, and believing then, as I
do now, that industry and perseverance would surely
win the coveted prize, whether it be wealth, political
distinction, or literary fame, and that every man is capa-
ble of excelling in some branch, I governed myself
accordingly. My life thus far had not been spent on
‘* flowery beds of ease,” but opposition and discourage-
ment had met me on every side. My way was thorny,
and it did seem that nobody cared for me, and I was
tempted to care for no one, except my wife. If any
one has ever received the cold shoulder, turn which
way they would, such may know how to pity me. I
was obliged to fight for every inch I gained in my up-
ward progress. In about three years I had accumulat-
ed about two thousand dollars over and above my ex-
penses.
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 105
There were in West Barnstable about six or. eight
men who were reported to be worth from four to six
thousand dollars each. I often thought if I could own
a homestead like the one I hired for twenty-five dollars
per annum, and two thousand dollars, I should be en-
tirely satisfied. I never aspired to be worth more than
four thousand dollars. This sum was the height of my
ambition, — not knowing that as one changes in life, and
as his means increase, his mind changes also. Instead
of being satisfied, when I had actually gained that sum,
I was as ambitious as ever for more.
During our residence in Great Marshes we were blest
with our first born. My very great economy came near
costing me my life. Just before my marriage, in Novem-
ber, 1823, on one of my routes on the south side of the
Cape, to save the wear of a part of my harness, I left the
breeching at home, as it was not much needed on the
Cape, and my horse was quite gentle. But while
coming down a hill, as I came out of the wood, some half
a mile from‘the main road, the wagon came against the
hind legs of my horse, and he kicked up, striking me
in the breast, and nearly stunning me. I felt that I
was badly hurt, but had presence of mind enough to
speak to my horse to stop, which he did, near the foot
of the hill. I fell back into the wagon and became un-
conscious, and then fell out in front of the wagon, and
lay across the rut, which was a foot deep, and the ground
frozen. ‘There I lay as dead. The first sensation I
106 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
+
felt was in the ends of my toes; and, before I could
move, my first thoughts were of her whom I had en-
gaged to marry, and then of my mother. Soon I could
move my fingers, then my limbs and body.. My horse,
providentially, never moved; if he had the loaded wag-
on must have passed over and broken my legs, and I
must have died that cold winter night, for the road was
an unfrequented one, and no one could have known
what had become of me, unless my horse had gone
home. I had just strength enough, when I came to, to
get into my wagon. I stopped at the first house on the
way, a Mrs. Crocker’s. The doctor was sent for, two
miles away, who came and bled me. I recovered slow-
ly, being obliged to keep my bed for a long time.
On my route I had many a dreary time. I remem-
ber well when at South Dennis, on my way home, the —
roads being sandy and dry, and not much demand for
my crackers, feeling lonely and sick of the world, I
said to myself, «* Well, if this is to be my life-work, the
sooner I die the better.” I had little to encourage me,
and saw little to live for. I have had such feelings
since, but never as I felt at that time.
The melon scrape was against me, and some of the
neighbors thought, and said, that Mr. Fish’s daughter
was running a great risk to marry me, when she had so
many good offers from the young men of the town, and
even Mr. Fish himself did not think his daughter's choice
the most hopeful. But it was to be so, I presume, for we
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 107
were married, January 1, 1824, in about six months from
the time I first saw her, and, like many others, we com-
menced to do the best we could to make our mark in
the world.
Soon after our marriage, my wife’s sister was mar-
ried to one of the Bodfishes, from whom I, with others,
stole the melons, The old people were delighted with
Clara’s prospects. She had married a rich farmer, and
her fortune was secured. The eldest daughter, Rebec-
ea, had married a son of Mr. Blish, quite a prominent
man, whose wife was sister to Judge Shaw; but Betsy
_ had married a poor baker boy, and not much was ex-
pected from her choice, showing how little people can
see into the future. Some years after this, when I had
purchased a homestead about two miles from where I
started in business, containing an old house, a barn
and six acres of land, and had built me a bake-house, I
had some farming to do, and occasionally employed my.
wife’s father to help me. One day, as I was talking
about the Bodfish family, he expressed the opinion that
the Bodfishes (some four families who owned large
tracts of land, and had all things common), laid up at
least five hundred dollars a year. I replied, ‘‘ Well,
what of that? I am earning that amount myself.” The
old gentleman looked upon me with surprise, as much
as to say, ‘* What a whapper!” Though I had many a
pull-back I stuck to it, and would not down, but up.
After I had moved to my new bake-house, I took.a
108 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
young man by the name of Rogers, from Orleans, as an
apprentice; also my wife’s brother. I began to feel
that I could take care of myself. My bake-house was
connected with my dwelling-house, and, though my wife
had two children, she was able to help me in getting in
my batches. This was a very great assistance to me.
Mr. Dexter, who was my near neighbor, did not believe
that a baker could live in Barnstable, and often ex-
pressed himself to that effect, which was cold comfort to
me; still I knew better, and was demonstrating it daily.
The Bodfish family were a hard working, industrious
family, but had no education. My wife’s sister’s hus-
band died soon after she was married, and some diffi-
culty arising in the family, with regard to the division
of the property, she was left with four young children,
very poor, and has so remained.
My business increased. My route now extended as
far as Provincetown, and a terrible hard road it was in
those days, before clay had been put upon the sand.
Sometimes I crossed the Bay in a boat. Atone time ~
I had contracted to deliver some twenty barrels of pilot
bread. The distance by land was fifty miles, —too far
to drive, — so I hired a boat, and with my brother-in-
law, started one day for the Cape, loaded very deep with
bread. The wind was blowing fresh when we started. |
As we neared Long Point, the tide was setting out
and the wind blowing fresh, making a rough sea, so
that at one time I felt that there was no chance for
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 109
me to escape a watery grave. Our boat was deeply
loaded, with considerable stone bailast on board, and
the sea frequently breaking over us. I trembled from
head to foot, expecting every moment that our boat
would swamp. But through a kind Providence we just-
escaped, and made a safe landing.
An event took place soon after we had moved into
our new house, which, religiously, changed my whole
life. I was educated a Presbyterian, of the straitest
sect. My mother led me, when a child, to that church.
I was in Truro, not far from Truro Light-House, on the
north side, stopping for the night with a family by the
name of Atkins, a distant relative of my mother’s. A
camp-meeting had just been held there by the Boston
Methodists, Father Taylor being one of the prominent
leaders. A wonderful baptism of power had fallen
upon the people. A woman, by the name of Smith,
had entered into the fulness of God’s salvation, and,
with other neighbors, had come in for a social religious
gathering. Religion, of course, was the theme of con-
versation, which was very strange to me. I was the
only unconverted person in the room, and, as every one
feels the need of some excuse for their course, I took
sides against the Methodists, and thought I had the
best end of the argument. It was suggested that they
close with prayer; and asked me if I ever prayed. I
replied that I did not. They asked me if I did not feel
that I ought to pray. I said, ‘* Yes, and hope to com-
10 ,
» 110 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
mence pretty soon.” They all knelt in a cirele, inclos-
ing me in the centre. I stood up, holding on to a chair,
as I had been taught to do. First one and then another
prayed. I was not moved at all by their prayers, until
Mrs. Smith commenced, she being the last of the circle.
Her prayer was for me. I had never heard such pray-
ing before. I trembled all over; my knees became so
‘ yery weak that I could stand up no longer. So down
I got and began to ery for mercy. The only prayer I
did or could offer, was, ‘** God be merciful to me, a
sinner!” God heard my prayer and a wonderful change
came over me. My darkness was turned to light.
There was no sleep for me that night. I was praising
God with my whole heart. On the following morning
how beautiful everything looked. All nature seemed
to wear a smiling face, and on my way homeward the
very foliage on the trees, and the singing of birds, was
delightful. I was in a new world; at least, it never
seemed so to me before. The change was all internal,
and this made everything so beautiful without to me.
I was very happy, and sang for joy on my homeward
way.
On my arrival home it was soon noised about that
Snow had been converted, and, as a matter of course,
as I had been an’irreligious person, it produced no lit-
tle stir fora time. They concluded that if such a hard
case as I had been could be converted, there was hope
for them, and so I thought. I now began to feel that
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 111
an over-ruling Providence had been around me for good,
and through mercy he had had me in his keeping.
I had paid for my little farm, and from it raised my
vegetables, and I kept a cow which supplied me with
butter and milk. I had also a good orchard. Still I
worked hard, as did my wife. With a family, consisting
of myself, two men, and two children, she did her own
work and helped me in the bake-house. Who could
not succeed with such a wife! In addition to my crack-
er baking I contracted with a company in Falmouth,
- who fitted out whalemen, to bake forthem. We baked
flour into -hard-bread for one dollar and twenty-five
cents per barrel. This nearly cost me my life. I
boarded near by and slept in an attic. It was oppres-
sively hot when I retired, and at midnight the fog
would come off the sound and change the temperature
from 80 deg. to 40 deg. I took a violent cold which
settled on my lungs, rendering it necessary for me to
give up work and go home. My brother-in-law took
my place. He had formerly worked with me, but
took a notion to go to sea. He went to Boston,
shipped on board a brig and was put to work tarring
down the rigging. Being a very neat, particular young
man, the tar bucket did not accord with his ideas of
sea life, so he concluded to come home, cured of sea
life, just in time to take my place. For three months
my cough continued, and many said ‘* Snow is gone for
it;” but my time was not yet. My health gradually
112 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
improved until I was able to attend to my business.
But in the month of August, on my way to Chatham
with a load of bread, I got heated, and it was with very
great difficulty that I was able to reach my home.
I was confined to my bed for several weeks, being
treated allopathically, — homeopathy not being known
at that time, — and took calomel enough to kill any man
whose time had come to die. But mine had not come.
I recovered gradually, but was never completely cured.
For many years I have been a sufferer from that miser-
able treatment,
To show how I had to work, rain or shine; in Sep-
tember I went to a Falmouth muster, twenty miles
away. It rained steadily all day. The company of
visitors, consequently, was not large, and the demand
not sufficient to use up what cake I had brought, and I
was obliged to go about and peddle it out as best I
could; and with all my effort I had to bring back, at
night, about half my stock. But to cap the climax,
my brother-in-law, who came home with me, to save
his cartridge-box from getting wet, put it in the
top of my chest of ginger-bread, and the dampness of
the weather, with the motion of the wagon, kept his
cartridge-box in perpetual motion, until our arrival at
home. Judge of the condition of my ginger-bread.
In the morning as I took it out, the edges were all
chopped off, and the dampness of the weather made it
look as if it had the small-pox. ,
*
THE LIFE OF DAVID sNOW. 113
This was one of my misfortunes. But, never under-
taking anything and giving it up, I brushed it up as
well as I could, replenished my cart with some which
was in good order, and was prepared to attend another
muster to be held at South Yarmouth the following day.
But in the morning, to my surprise, a two-horse team
from Kingston, loaded with a fine assortment of cake
of all kinds, drove up and stopped opposite my bake- °
house, and inquired the way to the muster field. Here
was a demand for all my tact. I chatted with him for
a while, and then said to him, if he would wait a little I
would hitch up and go along with him, which he readi-
ly consented to do. The thought suggested itself to
me that it would never do to let that fellow get on the
ground in advance of me. I hitched up and off we
started. Just about dark we came to a little tavern, a
mile from the ground. I turned out and said to my
Kingston friend that this was the only tavern at which
we could get accommodations, unless we went a mile
beyond. He was soon unhitched, while I stood and
looked on, thinking how I could out-general the fellow,
for I knew that my cake would stand no chance beside
his. He saw me looking on, and said, ‘* Come, un-
hitch.” I replied very coolly that I had a little busi-
ness beyond the muster ground, and I thought I would
go on and attend to it and meet him on the ground in
the morning. I did not tell him that my business was
to see the tént men that night, and engage them all the
*
114 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
cake and crackers they might sell the next day. So
after I saw him put up his team I started off, a move-
ment which he did not seem to like very much. I suc-
ceeded in engaging to supply all the tents, and actually
delivered as much as they thought they could sell, and
in the morning I backed up my wagon along side of the
Kingston team, and made the best show of cake I could
with my imperfect stock. I had the adyantage in the
sale, though his stock was in every respect superior to
mine. °
A little incident occurred which not a little amused .
the people. A neighbor of mine came along eating a
piece of my cake, and said, ‘‘ Snow, you have got the
worst looking cake I ever saw, but what is singular,
everybody is eating it.” «* Well,” I said, «that is just
what I am pleased with.” At night I had nearly sold
out, and my Kingston friend had sold very little. I
said to him, ‘* There is another muster at Eastham, are
you not going?” <«No,” he replied: ‘Snow, I will
follow you no longer.” This was a common remark
among bakers for being out-generaled. So I had the
other muster all to myself. On my way I stopped at a
grocer’s and took an assortment of liquors, which were
not then, as now, contraband. I succeeded in selling
all my cake, and the soldiers washed it down with New
England rum and molasses. It is not so now.
The first year on my place I saved a large quantity
of apples. I engaged the same boat as” before, and
PEDDLING CAKES.
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 115
took twenty barrels to Wellfleet, and sold them for one
dollar per barrel. I left the same night for Orleans,
some ten miles, with a head wind. Here I stopped all
night with my mother, to save the expense of lodging
at Wellfleet. The next morning, there being a head
wind, I started for Barnstable, which I reached at night,
having been absent two days. I brought back twenty
dollars, which, to me, was clear gain. This shows how
I managed and struggled to earn a dollar. This I did
in all my business.
I was prospering quite smartly. I owned a good
place, all paid for. When at the foot of the hill, I
found it hard work to ascend, but after I got up a little
I found myself master of the situation, and with any
amount of pluck I was determined to succeed if it was
possible, which I fully believed. It was not, after all,
plain sailing. I was frequently very greatly tried. I
‘ had a competitor at Sandwich, who was not unfrequent-
ly in my way.
In the month of December, just at night, cold and
freezing, this man passed my place with a load of crack-
ers. I seemed to feel that he was going the same route
I had projected for myself the following day. How to
get ahead of him was the question. I concluded he
would go on about four miles and put up for the night.
I resolved to start early in the morning, and pass him,
if possible. I retired early; but, with my mind on
him, sleep refused to come. I rolled upon my bed
116 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR,
until about twelve o’clock at night, and then got up and
harnessed my horse, and off I started. I watched every
turn-out until at last I found he had stopped near the
place I had anticipated. I went to the stable, and sure
enough, there he was. Then I laid my plans and had
the route in my hands. I drove about eight miles and
stopped; put up my horse, and made a bed on the hay-
mow, and slept a little. I was up with the sun, took
my breakfast, and was off, not less than eight miles in
advance of my competitor. I learned afterwards that
he followed me until he found that I was ahead, and then
turned off on to the route I had passed over some little
time before. |
At another time, when I was on the Chatham route,
near the junction of the Orleans road, where it connects
with the Chatham road, supposing I had command of
the road, who should come out of what was called the
middle road, through Harwich, just ahead of me, but
this same man. I got sight of him, but he did not see
me. Chatham was divided into what was ¢alled, Old
Harbor, and The Light, being about two miles apart.
To reach the stores in Old Harbor, we were obliged to
turn off north-westerly. I was anxious to reach the
stores first, but saw no way to do it with my team, so
. I drove on and got as near to him as I could, then
stopped my horse in a bend in the road and ran across
the field, reaching the stores in time to engage all the
crackers they wanted, saying that I would deliver them
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 117
' soon. Then I hastened back to my wagon, and on to
the stores at The Light, and then back the shore road
to Old Harbor; and meeting my competitor about half
way between the stores, he said, ‘‘ It is not fair to run
across lots.” I replied, «‘ Any way to sell my bread.”
As they used to say, I out-generaled him. My object
was to win, without much reference to the interests of
others. We were looking out for number one — going
in for the main chance.
Wellfleet was my best route on the Cape, as I always
got cash down for my bread. In 1827 there was held
a camp-meeting on what was called Brown’s-Brook Isl- ©
and, the first ever held in the place. I was on hand
with a load of cake, and did a smart business. I en-
joyed the meeting very much, and sold out my entire
stock, having been absent from home about a week. My.
religious experience did not advance very much. I had
an idea from what I had seen and heard about Chris-
tianity, that when a person got religion, it made him
not only happy, but really honest and trustworthy. I
knew but little of the weaknesses of human nature. I
was happy, and a streak of honesty run all through me,
and I expected it in those who professed to be religious.
But my mistake was in looking to man; I should have
looked to God. At times, while in and out of meeting,
I had such evidences of the Divine presence as caused
me to tremble in every part. I was naturally timid, but
when these visits of power came on me, the fear of man
118 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
was overcome ina moment. One day, while in a field
near my stable, thinking of what had taken place in me,
the wonderful change, the excitement among my neigh-
bors, how much talk it occasioned, and how remarkably
happy I felt, —all at once such light and power came
upon me and through me, that I was almost lost in a
flood of glory. It seemed for a time that I was in
heaven. Such peace I had never known before. . It
was to me the baptism of the Holy Ghost. But having
no one in those days to instruct me, I did not retain this
blessed enjoyment. In those days I heard nothing of —
the higher life, or Christian holiness. I said nothing
about this at the time. At the prayer meeting I would
often sit and tremble like an aspen-leaf, under the pow-
er of God, before I could give utterance to the pent up
feelings of my soul. There was always a charm to me
in prayer. Frequently as I passed a house and heard
the voice of prayer, I would stop and listen until its
close. I was never very much attracted by forms and
ceremonies in religious worship, and my knowledge of
religious duties was very imperfect. God seemed to
lead me by his Spirit.
Some Baptist brethren would come to see me and
talk over their peculiar views about immersion; but I
did not take much interest in those matters. I felt that
God was Love, and that he loved me, and I loved him,
and with that I was satisfied. It seemed as though I
was born a Methodist. They always seemed nearer to
THE LIFE OF: DAVID SNOW. 119
me than any other people. God had answered their
“prayers for my salvation. I had heard a great deal of
praying before, and have since, and it seems to me that
these people are taught by the Spirit to believe when -
they ask, to a degree not common among others ; and I
took to them as naturally as a duck takes to water.
We built a small Methodist church near my bake-
house, and I was chorister. The reader may judge of
the character of the music. I had a good deal of trial
in that department, and was criticised not a little. One
said I sang through my nose, and ‘consequently gave
them nasal music. Another said I had no ear for
music; and others offered other objections. But not-
withstanding all this, sing I would, and sing I did,
though I confess I had no natural talent for music.
I did not slacken my zeal in business. I was ‘ dili-
gent in business, fervent in spirit, serving the Lord ;”
-and by close attention to, and increased activity in,
business, I began to feel that I was taxing my physical
energies beyond their powers of endurance, and that if
I expected to live long I must change my business.
CHAPTER IX.
A CHANGE IN BUSINESS.
“Live for something; be not idle;
Look about thee for employ ;
Sit not down to useless dreaming;
Labor is the sweetest joy.
““*Folded hands are ever weary, _
Selfish hearts are never gay;
Life for thee hath many duties;
Active be, then, while you may.”
HAD now been in the baking business at West
Barnstable four years, and two years in my new
place. I was naturally a trader, —it was born in me,
and only needed to be developed by education. This,
so far, I had failed to secure, but was not without hope
that I should yet find my proper sphere ;
My health failing me, I selected Wellfleet as the most
promising place for trade, as the people followed the
fishing business, and fish always brought cash, and con-
sequently there was no barter. I was better posted
than any other person on the Cape as to this fact, as
my route extended from Falmouth to Provincetown.
120
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 121
At this time I was worth about two thousand four
hundred dollars: one thousand eight hundred dollars
in‘cash, and six hundred dollars in real estate. I leased
my bake-house to my brother-in-law, who continued
the baking business, and I formed a co-partnership with
one John Harding, who owned a place near the head
‘of Duck Creek. I always had a good judgment of the
best place for trade, as this selection proved.
Harding built me a store, such as I wanted, for which
I paid twenty-five dollars a year rent, he having one
quarter interest. Our capital was two thousand four
hundred dollars. I was captain, and was allowed twen-
ty-five dollars a month and my board; and when I was
absent Mr. Harding took my place and was allowed the
same per month; and the net profits were to be divided
as follows: one-fourth to Harding, and three-fourths
to myself.
Mr. Harding was‘ a_ jack-at-all-trades, — carpenter,
mason, ship-builder, etc., but was never intended for a
merchant; and, as I soon learned, his-only object in
taking hold with me was to learn the business, and, by
and by, as he was getting old, set up for himself. He
placed the utmost confidence in me, though an entire
stranger ; and I am thankful that I never betrayed it.
Having sold out all my assets in the baking business,
such as horse, wagon, etc., I made my arrangements
with Harding. I felt as though I had reached the acme
of my ambition, as my aim, from a boy, had been to be
: 11
122 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
a merchant. It seemed an inborn desire. I had de-
rived it from my mother. She was naturally a trader.
But I had never seemed to reach that goal until now.
But in 1828, by dint of industry and economy, I had
set up for myself. Of course I had much to learn.
Such was my economy that I had not a suitable suit of
clothes to wear to Boston to purchase my stock of
goods. I engaged Mr. Crocker, a trader in Yarmouth,
to assist me; and borrowing a suit of clothes of my .
brother-in-law, I started for Boston. Among the ar-
ticles of merchandise which I took along with me was a
barrel of cheese, made by my wife, which shows that
she not only did her own work, helped me in the bake-
house, and took care of two children, but made butter
and cheese enough for family use, and two hundred
pounds for the market, which I took to Wellfleet as a
part of my stock in trade. With the eighteen hundred
dollars in cash, and six hundred dollars sent me by
Harding, as per agreement, I purchased an assortment
of goods, adapting them as best I could to a country
store. I had a little of all sorts, —dry-goods, crock-
ery, groceries, and the like. And as I was anxious to
save all I could, I chartered a sloop running between
Boston and Orleans to take all my goods to Wellfleet
for twenty-five dollars. By this arrangement I might
have saved ten dollars; but on account of it I became
quite unpopular with the packet masters of the place,
which was not a little to my disadvantage. The sloop
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. ia
was somewhat in years and deeply loaded. When
about half way across Barnstable Bay, we encountered
‘what was called an old-fashioned south-wester, and
came very near being carried outside the Cape. She
would not make a course within four points of where
she headed. I had no insurance on my goods, and for
a time it seemed that we should be lost. All I had in
this world, except the old bake-house, was on board
the old sloop, and I thought if she swamped I might
as well go with her, for in that cargo was the fruit of
four years of the hardest toil of my life, and I felt as
though I could not go over that ground again. For
four mortal hours I was in the greatest suspense as to
how it would turn. But as a merciful Providence
would have it, we just escaped a watery grave. What
added to my despondency, I had others dependent upon
me for support —a wife and two little ones. I could
never tell the distress of mind I was in during those
hours of storm. But, thanks to a kind Providence, a
strong flood-tide setting into Barnstable Bay, and the
wind dying away, we were carried safely around Billin-
gate Point up the Bay to Duck Creek, at which place
we cast anchor all safe. Our cares and anxieties were
over as we once more trod the soil, or sand, of old
Cape Cod.
My partner, Mr. Harding, was on hand with boats
to take our goods to the shore. The way we got our
stock of molasses on shore, there being no wharf, was
124 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
to hoist it into a large flat-boat, and at low tide turn
the boat on its side and let it roll out, and then roll it
into the store.
The opening of our new store made a busy time for
us, as a new broom always sweeps clean. Before our
goods were in position, or we were ready, we were
over-run with customers. We commenced business
under very auspicious circumstances. I took the lead
of all the traders in the place, and as Wellfleet was a
cash market, and no barter, I found that I had located
in the best place. I sold my goods cheap for cash, and
soon became popular; so much so that my store was
called the cheap store. I always observed that if you
treat a man well and sell him goods low, he will always
come again and bring others with him. A man never
gets rich on one trade or one thing. A trader must
make his customers feel that he is doing as well or
better by them than can be done elsewhere, and if he
does they will always give him their patronage.
In the fall of 1828, after I had become settled in my
business, and everything began to look as though I
should succeed, I moved my little family from Barn-
stable, consisting of my wife and three children, Sarah,
Elizabeth, and David, the latter an infant of six months.
During their stay in Barnstable I used to walk home
once a month, a distance of thirty miles, which I trav-
elled in one day, and if business called, I could return
by the Boston stage. During my first month in trade I
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 125
took in cash one thousand dollars, which was regarded
as a big thing. While at Wellfleet death entered our
home, and Elizabeth, our second daughter, was removed
from us. She was buried there.
We did not live in great style, though I was worth
at that time two thousand four hundred dollars. I
hired a place not far from my store with two rooms, —
rather close quarters for a family of five. My wife was
an utter stranger to all in the place; but we soon found
friends, as two-thirds of the people were Methodists ;
and being of that order and attending that meeting, I
not only secured their friendship but their trade. In
those days the Methodists were proverbially social.
There was no caste, no rich, no poor, but all who were
respectable associated together. Here we had all our
children baptized by Brother Steele, the preacher in
charge. My wife not liking our house, Mr. Harding
leased us one-half of his double house adjoining the
store. IJlere we had one large and one small room and
a right in the attic. With this my wife was entirely
content. We used our front room for a kitchen and a
spare room to sleep in when we had company, which
was very seldom. My wife experienced religion in
1829, and attended the first camp-meeting at Eastham.
After a time, my business being prosperous, I deter-
mined to make Wellfleet my abiding place and settle
down for good. I purchased a lot on the hillside, near
my store, and commenced removing the earth to fill up
126 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
in front; the tide, at high water, washing the base of
the hill. It was my plan, also, to build a wharf in front
and fill up as I had leisure, and with this in view I pur-
chased a wheelbarrow and went at it in right good earn-
est. But M. S. Higgins, a trader in the place, was a
‘committee on roads, and not being kindly disposed
towards me, as I had taken away much of his trade, came
and forbade me filling up the road, which was a benefit
rather than an injury. But the animus of the man was
very apparent. The man who sold me the lot ex-
changed it for one adjoining Higgins’s, and on it I built
me a dwelling-house, proposing at some future time to
build a store opposite the house. I contracted with a
carpenter to build me a one-story double house for six
hundred and fifty dollars, and I dug the cellar for one
dollar and fifty cents. When finished, we moved into
it, letting one-half to Mr. Curtis, husband of my wife’s
sister. I must say we never felt so happy before nor
since. After that, when we had company we had room
to accommodate them, independent of our kitchen.
Coal was unknown in those days in Wellfleet, — our
only fuel was wood. Of this I used about three cords
annually, sawing and splitting it myself. While doing
this I would watch the store, and when a customer came
I would drop my saw or axe and run to wait on him.
In fact, there were no lazy bones in me.
My profits at this time were about six hundred dollars
a year above the amount it cost me to live. One
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. Ee
fact is interesting to me to relate. I never fell in debt
a single year of my life—always coming out a little
ahead. I practised the strictest economy, even when I
was doing well.. I never allowed myself to be carried
away with prosperity, as I did not know what a day
might bring forth. With many, if they make a little
money they fancy it is to continue, but it was not so
with me. If I did well I was always more saving.
During my four years’ residence in Wellfleet, various
incidents occurred of more or less interest to me and
others. I engaged in several speculations, but scarcely
ever lost by them. At one time, after a violent gale,
in the winter, a vessel was discovered in the shoals,
aground and dismasted. I was part owner of a fishing-
vessel lying in Duck Creek. I mustered a crew and
proceeded to her relief. There was a prevailing senti-
ment on the Cape (not very much to the credit of the
people) that a wrecked vessel was common property.
We found this vessel in a helpless condition, and glad
to accept our aid. She was owned in Newburyport,
and was from one of the West India Islands, loaded
with salt. We took her in tow and brought her up to
the wharf, made her fast, and claimed salvage of one-
half. As I acted a prominent part in the matter, being
‘<< chief cook,” I received, in the end, one-half share of
the salvage.
At another time, a vessel loaded with fruit, from
Malaga, was wrecked on the back side of the Cape,
128 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
about four miles from my store. Her eatgo was to be
sold at auction. We made up a company and bid off —
the whole cargo of oranges and lemons. We earted
them about two miles over the beach, and stored them
in Deacon Arey’s barn. But, to our injury somewhat,
there came on a very cold night and they all froze, and
_ remained so until spring opened. During the winter
we used to draw them on sleds by hand to my store,
and retail them to the neighbors about town. We then
chartered two fishing-vessels and took them to Boston,
Plymouth, and some other places, and should have done
first-rate, but -warm weather coming on, they thawed,
and in a brief time became worthless. As it was, we
made a good thing out of them.
The people of Wellfleet became my warmest and best
friends. I became very much attached to them, and
well I might: they were mostly Methodists, and traded
with me, even after I had moved to Boston.
Mr. Harding not proving to be of any advantage to
me, and having arrived at a position, financially, to
carry on business myself, I seriously thought of build-
ing me a store and dissolving partnership, and carrying
on business alone. Then, thinking if I did it would
utterly destroy his prospects of being a merchant, and
and as he had put a good deal of confidence in me, and
had trusted me when a stranger, self-interest had to
yield to a sense of obligation. We were pleasantly
situated, had command of the trade, my family had
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 129
formed many pleasant acquaintances, and it did seem as
if we should live and die in Wellfleet. But it seems I
had not found my place.
About this time I ascertained that there was a farm
for sale in Barnstable, and the idea suggested itself to
my wind that it would be a good place for me and my
family. Mr. Higgins, a trader near by, learning that I
thought of leaving the place, offered me a good price
for my homestead ; and I sold out my stock in tradé to
Mr. Harding (a sorry day for him). He paid me what
money he had; and to make all safe, as I was fearful
he would not succeed, I took a mortgage on his place
for the balance. His wife pressed him into trade, think-
ing it would be so very convenient to go to the store
and, without pay, get whatever she might need.
Having settled on my plans, I purchased the Bursely
farm for eighteen hundred dollars. I sold my house
for nine hundred, and collected in all my old debts,
leaving a balance unpaid of only seventy-five dollars,
after trading in Wellfleet for four years: a thing never
done before nor since. This shows that I was a good
judge of whom to trust. An old friend of mine, by
the name of Holbrook, on learning that I was about to
remove from Wellfleet.to Barnstable, expressed his re-
gret by saying that he would rather lose one of his best
cows than have me leave. I think there was a very
general expression of regret at my leaving the place ;
but when I decided to do anything I never looked
130 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
back. I hired the same vessel to take me back which
brought me to Wellfleet four years before. While our
two youngest children came with their mother by land,
in her brother’s bake-cart, I came with Sarah, the eldest,
in the packet. We landed at Barnstable, in the night,
during a violent rain-storm. We landed our goods,
and in the morning carted them up to the house I had
bought. There was no one there to receive us, my wife
not having arrived. The next day we put things in
order as best we could, and commenced housekeeping,
living on cold food for a day or two. My brother-in-
law, who thought I had done so well in Wellfleet,
vacated the baking business to me and commenced trad-
ing in the town of Truro. I soon got into the trade,
and with the aid of my wife and her brother, we made
good his place, and soon regained my old trade on the
Cape.
Mr. Harding, my old partner, as I anticipated, —
though he had all my trade, and I introduced him in
Boston, so that he was in good credit, and commenced
with a good prospect of success, — made a failure. He
unfortunately employed a young man in the store who
was not honest; and having himself been a hard-work-.
ing man, and strictly honest, as he gave up work he
took to drinking a little too much. He had also a son
who turned out badly. These things worked against
him, and, to cap the climax, he unfortunately got into
a lawsuit with a Congregationalist clergyman by the
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 131
‘name of Bailey. Mr. Bailey had been a Methodist
preacher and had married into the Whitman family, of
Barnstable. His wife was a sister of the young man
who got me into the melon scrape. One of the condi-
tions of marriage was that he become a Congregational-
ist. It was evident that money had much to do with
this marriage.
Mr. Bailey, very unjustly, made some scandalous re-
marks; and, among others, that I made my bread and
crackers in the same place where I cleaned eels. This
was malicious, and done to injure my business. Not
long after this I met him on the road as I was returning
from Eastham camp-meeting. I stopped my horse and
told him I would like to speak with him. Well under-
standing what I was about to say, instead of stopping,
he put on the whip and was soon out of sight. This
only added insult to injury, provoking me to write a
notice and post it up in several places in Wellfleet,
stating that whereas Stephen G. Bailey had circulated
certain false reports respecting my business and declined
to make any explanation to me, I hereby pronounced
the report false, and challenged him to prove if. Mr.
Harding, taking my side in the controversy, reported
verbaily to several of Mr. Bailey’s congregation what
I had written, and they insisted that he should clear
it up; consequently Bailey sued Harding. ‘This, of
course, created great excitement in the town. Mr.
Harding being a leading member in the Methodist
132 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
church, the two societies took sides for and against
Harding. Most people drank in those times, and Mr. —
Harding being more or less addicted to drink, it is
not strange that he should have said some unwise things
at such times.
My mother belonged to the same denomination with
Mr. Bailey, and he used frequently to stop at her house
in Orleans, and occasionally exchange pulpits with her
minister. As a knowledge of this lawsuit became —
wide-spread, my mother heard of it, and broached the
matter one day when Bailey was stopping at her house.
She expressed her regret that a minister of her faith
should go to law on so smalla matter. He replied that
when he had got through with Harding and had made
him smart for what he had done, he had made up his
mind to take hold of me. This touched a tender chord
in the old lady’s nature. I was her only, and youngest,
son, whom she always called her ‘* baby.” ** Well,”
she replied, ‘*I do not know how you may come out
with Harding, but I will risk David with you any-
where.” So having thus drawn the old lady’s fire, he
never after made her house a stopping-place.
The suit was a draw-game : neither seem to have been
victorious.
Some may think it strange that I should have given
up trade, which was the most reputable business on the
Cape, and return to my old busines, driving on my old
route, which for four years had been done by my wife's
’
4
.
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 133
brother. But so it was to be. To this work I added
farming, and the building of a new bake-house near my
dwelling.
Isold my old homestead to one Childs, who com-
menced an opposition baking establishment, but did
not succeed. Iwas not to be run off the track; and
so after a while he gave it up; and, the Sandwich baker
failing in business, I had the whole field to myself.
My wife, though having been out of the baking busi-
ness so long, was still quite ready and willing to assist
me in getting in the batches. She had not grown
proud, though her husband, at this time, was worth
four thousand eight hundred dollars,— had a good
farm, and money at interest.
My place of meeting was at Yarmouth-Port. Here
I attended the Methodist church.
Among the ministers who frequently preached there
was Dr. Upham, the presiding elder. I remained in
Barnstable two years, during which time Addie and
Henry were added to our family. Death had taken
one at Wellfleet, whom we buried near the old church
on the hill.
My income in the baking business was six hundred
dollars a year, about the same that I made in trade.
In the two years in Barnstable I had added to my prop-
erty about twelve hundred dollars, making me worth
six thousand dollars, —a wealthy man for Cape Cod.
Thad now reached a point in wealth which I formerly
12
134 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY.
thought. would satisfy me, but, instead of that, I was
just as anxious for more as I was when I had but four
hundred and fifty dollars. I was as industrious and
saving as ever. When I talk economy to my children,
telling them how I used to do, their reply is, ‘* Times
are not now as then.” My answer is, Just the same to
those who are situated as I was. The ‘change is in us,
not in the times.
I could always turn my hand to anything that came
along, — trade, bake, work a farm, —in fact, do any-
thing. I occasionally had prayer meetings at my house,
was chorister at Yarmouth, and was complimented on
my singing by Mr. Reed, the lawyer of the town, who
attended the Methodist meeting. The Methodists were
my people, —I owe them a debt of gratitude I shall
never be able to pay, for under their influence my
whole life was changed, and it became valuable and
happy.
CHAPTER X.
PLACE FOUND AT LAST.
‘¢Toil, and be glad! let industry inspire
Into your quickened limbs her buoyant breath!
Who does not act is dead: absolved entire
In miry sloth, no pride, no joy he hath;
O leaden-hearted man, to be in love with death.”
— James Thompson.
EVER felt that I had not found my place, and
hence my mind was not at rest. To me there seemed
something better in the future; and yet I never dared
to look very much beyond Cape Cod. Here I expect-
ed to live and die.
My love of, or desire for wealth, so increased that I
was not satisfied with laying up simply six hundred dol-
lars a year. I felt as though I ought to be doing some-
thing more. There was a farm adjoining mine, of about
thirty acres, with about seventy acres of woodland,
which would supply my bake-house with wood for
years. As wood was becoming scarce, and as this tract
run across the Cape to Hyannis, I was looking well
ahead. This place was in the market and could be
135
136 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
bought for two thousand seven hundred dollars. I
could pay for it, and the thought suggested itself to
me, that with that farm I should be the greatest farmer
on the Cape. The more I thought of it the more I was —
inclined to purchase it. Hawes & Gray, of Boston, had
it for sale. One of the partners had married into the
Gorham family. In its day it was one of the best es-
tates in Barnstable ; but it had been neglected, and con-
sequently had run down. The old people had died, and
the girls were married and moved away. The family
was of the aristocratic order in those days. There
seemed to be a special Providence following me all
along, for if I had bought that farm I should have been
fixed there for life.
I came to Boston expecting to purchase, and made
up my mind to offer twenty-five hundred dollars, and
did offer it; but they declined to sell for less than twen-
ty-seven hundred. I waited some days, hoping they
would accept my offer; but they would not, so I went
to Brighton and bought a horse, and rode to Barnstable
on horseback. I stopped at home a while, and a cousin
of my wife proposed to open a store at Great Marshes,
and I thought of taking an interest with him, and partly
agreed to do so. I came to Boston the following June,
and failing to secure the farm at my price, was impressed
to set up business in the city, and try my luck there.
City Wharf had been leased to a company for twenty
years. The company had just finished a block of ten
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 137
stores on the same. Somehow—TI never could tell
why —I took a lease of one of the stores for three
years, at eight hundred dollars a year, and let all above
the lower floor for three hundred dollars, to Horace
Scudder & Co. They were agents for the New York
and Baltimore packets.
This was a bold move on my part, as I had never been
educated a merchant, and had to come in competition
with experienced men in the West India business, —
men like Hawes, Gray & Co., and Joshua Sears.
When Gray found that I was going into the same busi-
ness as himself, and that there was no hope of selling
me the farm, he accepted the same offer from Capt.
Piercell which I had made him.
Some little time before I came to Boston, I went to
New Bedford, with a view of engaging in business there,
as the town was at that time at the height of its prosper-
ity in the whaling business. I stopped all night with a
good Methodist brother, whom I had met the year pre-
vious at Eastham camp-meeting. I saw him standing
one day outside his tent, with some grass in his hand, :
saying that he was going to take it home as a memento,
for it was on that spot that God sanctified his soul.
We occupied the same room at his house in New Bed-
ford, his wife being absent. About midnight a girl
who lived in the family came to the door in great dis-
tress of mind, and asked us to pray for her. We arose
and had a season of prayer for her.
138 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
New Bedford, at that time, was taking the lead in
the whaling business. Though Nantucket had been the
principal whaling place for many years, yet New Bed-
ford, having a very much better harbor, was taking the
business. JI did not decide to settle there, and it was
well I did not, for the place soon after began to decline.
I was, as the reader must have seen, of a roving dis-
position. I could not stay long in one place, as I had
not yet found the place where I could settle for life.
I met on the wharf, in Boston, one day, a man whom |
I had known when in trade at Wellfleet, by the name
of Crosby, a carpenter. He was landing his furniture
from the packet. I askéd him what he was about. He
said he was following me: I had been a rolling stone,
and had succeeded, and he thought he would succeed
by rolling. But having a large family, and not suc-
ceeding in keeping a boarding-house, he was but too —
glad to move back to Orleans and give up rolling. I
have learned that it is bad policy to follow others, as
we may be unlike those we follow, and may not, like
them, have the real element of success in us.
The strong desire which had long burned within me
to be a merchant or banker was about to be realized,
though my trouble had not yet ended. The old saying,
‘¢ Let well enough alone,” would seem to apply to me.
I was well to do in Wellfleet, and in Barnstable, and I
had no valid excuse for changing. But I was ambi-
tious to reach a higher standpoint. Then I thought it
might be better for my children.
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 139
After I had hired my store I offered young Parker
one-third interest with me. Hereadily accepted. I had
two signs made before leaving Barnstable, as I could
get them done cheaper there than in Boston. I said
one day to Parker, that we would go over to Central
Wharf and back those signs to the store, and save twen-
ty-five cents, the cost of carting them over. So we
waited until dark and then did the job, not being will-
ing to be seen backing our signs in the day-time. I
have always kept those signs, and have them now.
I came to Boston in July of the year that the Asiatic
cholera was at its height. Passing along the streets one
day I saw a funeral procession, and was told ‘that the
man died with cholera. I was much alarmed, as our
physicians knew but little of the disease at that time.
Before leaving Barnstable I made arrangements with
Mr. Fish, my brother-in-law, to carry on the baking busi-
ness as I had done, and have the place ready for me in
case I did not succeed in Boston. I soon had my store
supplied with such articles as were usually kept in a
West India goods store. | .
Coming in contact with merchants in that depart-
ment of trade, I soon found that I was hardly up to
what was considered a practical Boston merchant. But
what I did not know I was bound to learn. I felt that
industry and a close application to business would ulti-
mately succeed. My first bill of goods was bought of
Copeland & Co., a firm with which I used to trade
140 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
when in Wellficet. The bill amounted to sixteen hun-
dred dollars, and was to be paid half in four and half
in six months. As I had never run in debt before to
any considerable amount, and-as trade was very-dull,
I was becoming rather discouraged. The first day I
sold one bag of shot only, at a profit of six cents,
while my rent amounted to two dollars and sixty-seven
cents per day. Matters looked rather blue.
We had taken a cheap boarding place in Franklin
Street. But I soon found that to open a store in Bos-
ton, and on Cape Cod, were very different things.
There a new store, for a time, at least, took all the
trade ; but in Boston it was just the opposite, — it took
time. Dull times, no trade, sixteen hundred dollars
worth of notes out; these would press upon my
thoughts, and it seemed that I could never pay them.
I went to my boarding-house from my store, having
done but little, and retired early. But sleep departed
from me. My nervous system became perfectly pros-
‘ trated. I rolled over and over and tried to sleep, but —
it would not come. The thought that my notes would
become due soon, increased my already intensely excited
feelings, and I found no relief but in a flood of tears.
I was completely broken in spirit, and knew not what
to do. No relief came to my feelings until I had de-
termined to go to Copeland & Co. and get them to
take back the goods and return my notes, and charge
me what they thought would be right, and I would sell
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 141
the balance, which I had bought for cash. I would
then return to my farm and bake-house, and abandon
my Boston enterprise. After I had reached that deci-
sion I got a little sleep.
The next morning the wind was north-west — cool
and bracing. I thought it all over; of what my neigh-
bors would say, and had said. One of them used to
laugh at me for leaving a good farm and business for
Boston. Another said: ‘‘ Snow, we will give you two
months to be back again in your old bake-house.”
Captain Huckins, an old packet-master, laughed at me,
and expressed his surprise at my giving up so good a
business for one that was uncertain. Thinking of all
this, my courage revived. I could not bear the idea of
meeting the laugh of my old friends, which I felt almost
sure would come on my return. I could never bear to
fail in an undertaking. I finally concluded that I would
try a little longer, and see how matters worked.
I was obliged to educate myself daily, as my partner
was of little service tome. He was an easy-going sort
of a man, more interested in reading a novel than in
trade; so that the whole responsibility fell on me.
Being a sort of live Yankee, I was everywhere — look-
ing into everything and asking all manner of questions
of all who would answer me. In fact, I asked so many
questions that my neighbors began to conclude that I
was a little green, though not so green as they supposed.
An old tea merchant, by the name of French, with
142 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
whom I traded some, I thought a good subject to ques-
tion. Having understood that there was some profit on —
the tare of tea, I asked him one day how much was
saved on the tare of a chest of tea. He looked me
steadily in the face, with a kind of a fatherly look, and
said: ‘* Young man, with whom did you serve your ap-
prenticeship in the trade?” I had to own that all I
knew about the business was what I had picked up as
best I could, by asking similar questions. Looking me
still in the face, pleasantly, he said: ** Young man, if
you have earned a little money in the country, Boston
is a good place to lose it:” which advice I never forgot,
and afterwards he and I had many a good laugh over it.
I found what the old man said was true.
My old friends on the Cape continued to prophesy —
that Snow would fail this time, sure. Those most
friendly to me were of the opinion that I was not in my
proper sphere. One Capt. Newcomb said to me one
day: ‘* Snow, you with either go ahead or fall astern,”
—giving me to understand that I should go astern.
These remarks, made by my friends, only stimulated
me to greater exertions, and to keep constantly on the
watch. There were a good many merchants in Boston
at that time who came from the Cape, and had been
successful. They had maintained a good character for
honesty and integrity ; so much so that when one, buy-
ing goods of a stranger, or at auction, reported that he
was from the Cape, this fact established his credit. All
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. . 143
these things acted as a sort of spur to urge me on, and
never to relax my efforts. Iwas resolved to succeed,
and never to say die. I had, to be sure, left a certainty
for an uncertainty, and I felt that I was on a tempestu-
ous sea, where many had been wrecked, and I might be
as unfortunate as they, and even become bankrupt.
There seemed no good and sufficient reason why I should
have ventured my all on an experiment so uncertain as
the one in which I had embarked. My roving disposi-
tion still clung to me, indicating that I had not reached
my place. I was determined to be a merchant or a
banker of the first grade. This, to me, seemed my des-
tiny. I never looked back, or thought d¥ doing so, but
once, and that was when those notes got on my brain,
and I was sure I could never pay them. I was now
thirty-five years of age, —in the prime of life, — with
my health fully restored.
My partner, Mr. Parker, became sick, and not being
as much interested in trade as I thought he ought to be,
I seriously contemplated making some change. I told
him we must have more capital. After some hesitation
on his part, he agreed to sell out, and I was to allow
him twenty-five dollars a month, and interest on his
capital.
Being acquainted with one Smith Eldridge, an old
trader at Chatham, who, like myself, had expressed a
desire to move to Boston, and being worth about three
thousand dollars, — two thousand of which he could
144 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
put into trade, it being about the same that I had, —I
concluded to take him into partnership. We finally
agreed upon terms, and engaged for three years. His
capital was a note due in six months from the party to
whom he had sold his goods in store, This note we
took to the Traders’ Bank, and had it discounted, which
required four weeks to accomplish, they paying us five
hundred dollars per week.
Mr. Parker did not long remain in my employ. He
returned to Barnstable, and married a young lady by
the name of Bursley, a daughter of one of the richest
farmers in town; by whom, at her father’s death, he
received some two thousand dollars, and opened a coun-
try store, as he and I had arranged to do before I took
the Boston fever.
I moved my family, soon after, to Boston, renting a
house with one Baker, from the Cape; the rent being
two hundred and fifty dollars. As we had never, up to
this time, enjoyed the luxury of a carpet, my wife and
I thought as we had got to the ‘‘ hub of the universe ”
we must appear a little like other people. So one after-
noon we promenaded Hanover Street in search of a ear-
pet, and finally fixed upon one for which we paid fifty
cents per yard. The texture was simply cotton. We
took it home, my wife made it, and very soon it was on
’ the floor. We had but one front room, and one cham-
ber, with a right in the kitchen to wash. But with our
new carpet, we were feeling quite proud; and not wish-
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 145
ing to have our joy alone, we invited our neighbors in
to see it; all praising it as a beautiful thing. We were
never so happy with a carpet before nor since. So much
for our first carpet. -
My family did not long remain in Boston. I removed
them back to the old farm; but doing business in Bos-
ton, and living on the Cape, I found did not work well,
- though I was determined after a few years, if matters
worked well, and I was successful, to move back and
settle permanently on my farm ; and, in view of this,
actually purchased some ten acres of land adjoining
mine. I also planted a young orchard, and was pre-
paring for a comfortable home. Though I was unde-
cided in regard to that, I was determined to make my
business a success, as I always did believe that if a man
wills in early life to succeed in any profession or calling,
with proper self-reliance, he will, as a general thing, be
successful, and often far beyond his most sanguine ex-
pectations. Moho
After my business connection with Eldridge our trade
greatly increased. We took nearly all of the Cape
trade, which was considered the best kind of trade, as
they always paid cash. Quite different was that which
came from Maine. One time, when absent on a visit to
my family on the Cape, my partner sold a lot of goods
_to Kelley & Sewell, of Bangor, amounting to seven
hundred dollars. My partner was a poor salesman.
His judgment of human nature was not good. Ifa
ghee
146 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR,
person offered him his price, he would sell without
much reference to the pay, not seemihg to consider that
ability to pay was everything. On my return, finding
that he had made this trade, I said to him that it was a
bad debt, and I set myself at work to secure it, but
without success, as “they failed soon after and we lost
every dollar. This hurt us very much, as it took one-
sixth of our capital. We sued the concern and obtained
judgment, and I have it still. I look at it occasionally
to refresh my memory in regard to old times.
Together, my partner and I had a large acquaintance
on the Cape, from which our trade mostly came. The
Bangor trade sickened me of eastern merchants; in
fact, I soon learned that Bangor had taken its millions
out of Boston in the way of failures.
I naturally read human nature pretty well. When
one came to trade with us, I made it a special point to
inquire into his history. I would ask him all sorts of
questions, — who his father and mother were; what
business they followed; what he had been doing;
how much he was worth, etc. In this way I could
form a judgment as to whether it would be safe to
trust him, and if I trusted him at all I seldom ever
made a mistake, as my whole business life shows. It
used to be said that goods well bought were more than
half sold. Success in trade depends on being a good
judge of goods, and to buy them at the right time;
and when once established, sellers will come to you
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. ~* 147
‘and urge you to buy, and then you can usually make
your own price.
At the end of the year 1834, we took account of
stock, and found that we had made three thousand six
hundred and thirty-one dollars clear of store expenses,
and nine hundred and eight dollars poor debts. This
we reckoned quite well for the first year. Our family
expenses, especially those of my partner, took nearly
all of this. JI laid up about one thousand dollars.
I had now seen about what could be done, and that
I must either make up my mind to return to the Cape
or settle in Boston. Doing business on the Cape did
not quite suit me, so I concluded to stay in Boston.
My wife did not like to live on the Cape and I in Bos-
ton; so I rented half a house in Federal Court, for two
hundred dollars per year, and moved my family to
Boston for the second time. Soon after, I sold my
farm in Barnstable to my old partner, Fish, for two
thousand five hundred dollars, still entertaining the
thought that at some distant time I might return to the
Cape and spend my days, for there lay the bones of
the ancestors of myself and wife.
Our firm was David Snow & Co., which kept me -
before the public as the head of the concern. This
was favorable to me. It takes a long time, in such a
place as Boston or New York, to get a name fairly be-
fore the public. In this respect it differs from a coun-
try village. There you are known to all at once, but
here you are overshadowed by old establishments.
148 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
Our business continued to grow, and haying dis-
posed of my farm, and not thinking it advisable to
have my all in trade, I concluded to invest in a dwell-
ing house. I purchased a house on Garden Court,
near North Square,—then, by some, called Court
Square, because in the early settlement of Boston the
sessions of the court were held at the North End, and
as a place of residence it was considered the most aris-
tocratic. I paid for my house four thousand four hun-
dred dollars, giving a mortgage for the balance above
the receipts from the sale of my farm, thus contracting
my farm of twenty-four acres into some nine hundred
feet of land, with two thousand dollars in addition.
This house adjoined Father Taylor’s residence in Prince
Street.
Having removed to my new home, and being near
Bennett Street, I made that my place of worship,
though at that time I was quite low in my religious
experience. I was absorbed in business. I was at my
store hard at work at least an hour before breakfast, a
thing not done by merchants now. I would put on my
green jacket and overhauls, and work like any laborer
in the store, while my wife, with four children, did her
own work in the house. So we lived, and so we worked
our way up the rough paths of life.
Towards the close of the second year I began to
“think of dissolving partnérship, and ruuning the ma-
chine alone. I had taken a young man from North
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 149
Dennis, by the name of Paddock, as an apprentice,
who boarded with me._ With his assistance I thought
I could work the ship.
When I began housekeeping in Federal Court, I had
never secn any anthracite coal; but a family in the
house used it, and I concluded to try it. So one day,
as an experiment, I went down cellar and took some
of their coal to see how it would work, and to my dis-
appointment it put out the fire. This was my first
effort at burning coal, and it was years after before I
could make it burn. I have learned the art since.
Mr. Eldridge, my partner, was not sufficiently enter-
prising for a city like Boston; besides, he was the
poorest judge of character I ever knew. In conse-
quence of this I found that we were making many bad
debts. His idea of a bargain was, to sell if he could
get his price, though it was worth twenty-five per cent.
to guarantee the debt. My plan was to sell only to
those whom I was satisfied would pay. I could then selt
‘at a small profit and secure the trade. I was always
early at the store; and would usually sell a bill of goods
before breakfast, or before my partner arrived.
A LAND SPECULATION.
During our second year there was great excitement
in eastern lands. One of our customers, a city grocer,
who owed us seventy-five dollars, sold out privately
he
150 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
and left the city for parts unknown. We suspected he
had gone to Portland, and I followed him to that city,
but failed to find him. While at Portland, I observed
that the land fever was very high. Everybody seemed
to be deeply interested in buying and selling land.
Nearly every man you met accosted you with, ‘* Do
you want to buy such a piece of land, or such a town-
ship?” and pulling out a map of a township, through
which ran several large streams, convenient for getting
lumber to market, would try to induce you to buy.
Every public house was filled with strangers from all over
the country, attracted’there by the land excitement.
They were buying and selling and getting rich on paper.
Failing to find my debtor, though I found his wife,
I took passage on board a steamer for Boston. On the
boat, as at public-houses, timber-land was the chief
subject of conversation. It was not difficult to become
introduced to strangers. I became acquainted with a
man who kept the Howard House, in Boston. He had
been employed by a firm in Boston to'go down to
Maine to examine a township which had been highly
recommended ; but, as was the case generally, he did
not find it quite up to the description. But he said he
had secured a bond of another lot of about three thous-
and acres, only eight miles from Bangor, at three dol-
lars per acre. Upon further conversation, he said he
should offer this to the parties who had sent him to
examine the other lot, and if they did not take it, he
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. Te
wanted to get up a company and purchase it. He was
of the opinion that they would not buy it, as they had
been disappointed in the other township. Sure enough,
they declined to take it, so he came to me. We got
up a company of four to visit the spot, and if we found
it to be as good as represented, to buy it. We made a
‘joint note for the amount, nine thousand dollars, and
got the money out of the Market Bank. I took one-
half and Captain Howe the other, and tied it around
our bodies, and off we started for Maine, as jolly a set
of fellows as ever came together. Our company con-
sisted of Captains Nickerson, Huckins, and Howe, the
tavern-keeper and myself. We took the steamer
‘‘ Bangor,” and stopped:at Portland, where we took
the stage for Augusta, and then a private team for
Bangor, and thence to our Eldorado, eight miles up
the river. We arrived Saturday night, and took lodg-
ings at what was called in those days a rum-tavern.
On our way down we were very jolly in expectation
of fortunes to be made. Our plans were all matured:
we built saw-mills, chartered vessels to take our lumber
to the West Indies, built a wharf at South Boston to
store our sugar and molasses, and what cordwood we
might ship to Boston, —in fact, we discussed the whole
matter thoroughly.
Early Sunday morning (we could not wait till Mon-
day, as the king’s business required haste) we secured
_a guide, and with a canoe started off to explore our
152 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
coveted prize. The stream up which we went was
rapid, and it was near noon before we reached the place.
Without any delay we commenced our exploration in
good earnest. Capt. Nickerson was soon measuring an
old pine tree ; and, to his great joy, found that it would
make so many thousand feet of lumber. I walked
around it, and on examination, found it to be rotten-
hearted. We discovered, also, that the land being
near Bangor, all the best timber had been cut off and
manufactured into shingles. So we got a hearty laugh
upon the Captain.
We found the three thousand acres to be divided
about as follows: One-third pond or lake, one-third
bog or marsh, — from which the little stream up which
we forced our boat took its rise, —and the balance,
once fair pine timber-land, but, unfortunately for us,
all the good trees had been used for shingles, and in-
stead of pine trees, spruce, hemlock, and birch had
taken their place, and it was with difficulty that we
could get through them. But I was determined to see all
that was to be seen; so I ascended a rising piece of
ground and climbed an old tree, from which I could see
all the land below. I satisfied myself that our fortune,
in that direction, was not to be made there. Disap-
pointed and down-hearted, we made our way back to
our canoe, and returned to the old rum-tavern, all jaded
and tired out; and, though I seldom ever used liquor,
a little New England rum and molasses seemed to go to
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 153
the tired spot, and, under the circumstances, tasted
good. We slept comfortably that night, though I was
climbing trees the most of the time in my sleep. In
the morning we were early off for Bangor, where we
were detained for some time, waiting for the steamer.
The modes of conveyance in those days were not what
they are now. No railroads nor steamboats between
Boston and Bangor except one, which made one trip a
week. Wewere dependent upon the old, rickety stage-
coach. . E
Though all the representations about making fortunes
in eastern lands had not proved true, —at least, in our
case, —I still thought that from the statements made by
others, and even by my neighbors, of the fortunes
made, that there must be something in it; but being
naturally cautious, I was not very much inclined to
swallow the animal whole ; and being deceived in regard
to the heater piece, it added considerably to my caution.
While at Bangor we were surrounded by scores of
speculators, who seemed to know nothing and talk of
nothing but townships of land; and many of them were .
said to have made ten, twenty, and even fifty thousand
dollars in a single purchase; and yet it seemed very
wonderful to me that in all these sales little or no money
was used. It was all on paper. A man would pay one
hundred dollars for a bond, and then sell the bond and
take notes, payable in six, eight, and twelve months.
And so this bond would be sold from one to another.
154 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, -
But with all the money made by my friends on City
Wharf, every one of them failed up in less than four
years,
While we were waiting for the boat, some of our
company contracted a second fever, and actually bought
half a township of land, still farther east, without see-
ing it; though we had each agreed on our ride from
Augusta to Bangor, that if the tract of land which we
were on our way to explore did not prove to be as
good as we expected, and another lot should turn up,
and one or more should buy, all should have an oppor-
tunity of sharing in the purchase.
It is said that there is honor among thieves; but
Nickerson and Howe made the purchase without saying
anything to Kilburn or myself. -After we had got a
pretty good insight into eastern land speculation, at
least, so far as I was concerned, we left for Boston ;
all, except Nickerson and Howe, considerably down-
hearted. Théy seemed quite reserved, and kept much
by themselves — would visit the bar quite often; and
when we arrived in Portland they went up to the hotel
to lodge, though their tickets furnished lodging on
board the boat.
At Portland we met several of our acquaintances on
their way to the Eldorado, where fortunes were made
without much labor. They were as full of hope and as
sure of success as some of us had been a short time
before. By the time I arrived at home, short about
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 155
. fifty dollars, I was completely cured of the ‘land
fever,” — though the medicine was expensive, and was
about as bad as the disease. I was fully satisfied that
if I was ever to possess a fortune, it did not lay in that
direction.
A few days after our return, Captain Howe, one of
our party, who had agreed that whatever purchases
were made, all should share equally in them, had actu-
ally purchased, with Captain Nickerson, and had con-
cealed it from the rest. He had written a letter to
Captain Huckins, and came into my store to copy it,
and, unfortunately for him, left the manuscript on the
desk. Judge of my surprise when I read it, as read I
did, though it was not intended for my eyes. In the
letter he said: ‘‘ We did not buy the heater piece we
went to explore, as it did not come up to the represent-
ations made to us, but we have purchased a half town-
ship some seventy miles farther east, with a few confi-
dential friends, both here and there.” The cat was out
of the bag, and it accounted for their conduct on their
passage homeward.
When this became known to Kilburn and myself, we
were greatly surprised that a part of our company
should have proved traitors. But so it was. My part-
ner was terribly worked up about it, and put in his
claim for an interest in the purchase, according to con-
tract, and pressed it so earnestly that they were obliged
to let him in. I was left out, as I preferred to be.
156 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR, -
' The expression in the letter to Huckins, that they had
bought half a township with a few confidential friends
both here and there, furnished an opportunity to those
who were acquainted with the transaction, whenever
they met, to have a hearty laugh over it at the expense
of these confidential friends. My partner was so bent
on making his fortune in lands, that he was not satisfied
with his eastern purchase, but, with others, he made a
purchase in New Hampshire. Such was the mania for
land, that one might have imagined that there was not
land enough in New England to bury the dead on.
But in one year from that time I dissolved with El-
dridge, and he took in Nickerson, who let him into the
land speculation. In about a year the land fever began
to subside, and men allowed their common sense to
guide them. ;
FIRST ACQUAINTANCE WITH ISAAC RICH.
I was a constant attendant at Bennet-Street Church_
at this time ; a member of the choir, and played the big
fiddle, as I used to at Wellfleet. Here I became ac-
quainted with Isaac Rich, whose wife was a member of
the choir. He used to buy his fall and winter groceries
of me, for his widowed mother and sister, residing at
Wellfleet, and very poor. This was a noble act, and
for it, no doubt, a kind Providence blessed his labors,
and to it his success in after years is attributable: Mr.
Rich was ever kind to his mother. His father died
.
—s. '
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 157
when he was about ten years old. I am fully confident
that if we honor our parents God will honor and bless
us.
T have already referred to my relations with Mr. El-
dridge, and the dissolution of our partnership. I wili
further say, that in 1836 I had fully determined to dis-
solve, but my partner was so much opposed to it that
I consented to continue another year, on the following
conditions: If either judged best to sell a bill of goods
to a party to whom the other objected, he might do so
and be allowed a commission of two and a half per
cent., and the amount of the bill to be charged to his
account. In every case where I objected, the parties
failed during the year.
Our business was very good — much better than dur-
ing the two previous years. This year our business
netted six thousand dollars, against twenty-eight hun-
dred in the previous year. But I found that my check
on my partner had no effect. He was so self-confident
that I thought best to dissolve ; so in January, 1837,
_ the firm of David Snow & Co., which had existed three
years, was dissolved. I had worked hard, day and
night, to build up our trade, and had secured a good
business. But how to get rid of my partner I did not
know. He insisted that I should make a proposition ;
and failing to get one from him, and seeing no other
way but to make one myself, I did so. Though our
firm stood well for credit, and we had a run of valuable
4
158 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR,
customers, yet I somehow rather pitied Eldridge, for it
seemed he had no other way to earn a living, and had
an expensive family. So, looking the matter all over,
I named a price which was very low. I proposed to
give or take three hundred dollars—a proposition
which he readily accepted, and I was sold out. I had
the conviction that it would be so, but was still confi-
dent in my own destiny. But to show up selfish human
nature: In our agreement I was to have the upper part
of the store, and he the lower floor and cellar. The
lease, which stood in my name, expired, and while I
was on the Cape arranging for a line of packets between
Boston and Albany, he took out a new lease in his own
name, and forbid me to underlet any part of the store
which I was to occupy. Having engaged a part of the
counting-room to Huckins & Bassett, for an insurance
oflice, to lessen my rent, as I was to embark in an en-
tirely new business, having verbally agreed not to go
into the grocery business for one year, I was suddenly
met with a serious drawback, which resulted in my yva-
cating the premises altogether. This, on his part, was
not treating me as I had treated him; and yet on my
part I carried out the agreement to the very letter. I
commenced commission business in flour, grain, and
fish ; and, to my surprise, he headed me off in this, and
actually began to occupy some of the lofts. I said but
little, but bided my time, and soon left the store altoge-
ther, and took another, leaving him in possession of the
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 159
entire store.. I now went more extensively into the
flour and grain business, and had assignments of ship-
plank from Lockport, N. Y., which paid well. Eldridge
tried to head me off in every effort I made to succeed
in my new business, but I kept steadily on in my trade.
I did not even attempt to compete with him at all. I
organized what was called a new line of packets, con-
sisting of six vessels, to run between Boston and Al-
bany. It must be remembered that there were no rail-
roads at that time, and all the products of Western New
York and the Western States came, mainly, through
the New York Canal, which terminated at Troy and
Albany, and thence by vessels to New York City and
Boston. Iwas the agent for these packets in Boston,
and a Mr. Wing was agent in Albany. He was one of
the stockholders, and to freight our vessels we bought
and sold large quantities of fish, flour, corn, barley,
butter, and cheese. This made business for me in which
I was not inactive. I was up and at it with all my
might. Young Paddock acted as my clerk, which kept
my expenses down, and I let my old partner have his
own way without let or hindrance, so far as I was con-
cerned,-though we were near each other —on the same
wharf. I felt somehow that he would not succeed, and
his failure proved to be only a question of time. There
were elements in his character which were not adapted to |
make him a successful Boston merchant. Unfortunate-
ly, when he took a new partner, he led off in the busi-
160 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
ness. Captain Nickerson was a master-mariner, and
his object in taking an interest with Eldridge was to
make a place for his brother Thomas. Eldridge had
the advantage of me, as he took all our old customers,
and I was left to build up a new trade. A new set of
customers had to be secured. Had he possessed the
capacity for trade in a large city he would have suc-
ceeded; but this he had not. A few years after, he
dissolved with Nickerson, took in another partner,
made a sort of failure, and moved into the Western
part of New. York, where he purchased a farm, on
which was a large mortgage, the interest of which, and
the cost of supporting his family, being so considerable,
that his resources were exhausted, and he was unable to
make both ends meet. He sold the right of redemption
in his farm, and moved back to Boston, where he went
into the egg trade. Not succeeding in that, his friends
made up a joint-stock store for him, inviting me to take
some stock. This I declined to do. While I never
followed a man to injure him, yet when a man tries to
injure me as he did, it takes me a long time to forget it.
The stock company was a failure, and the last I heard
of Eldridge he was manufacturing soap at Cambridge,
and was said to be very poor.
Soon after I dissolved with Eldridge, I rented a
wooden store at the head of the City Wharf, and in the
course of a few years I built up a good business, and I
felt as if I could manage it alone, though I had pur-
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 161
posed to resume my old trade at the conclusion of the
year. But I did not; and had I, it would have ruined
- Eldridge, as I could have easily taken all his trade in a”
short time. Iam glad now that I did not, as it would
have given cause for unfavorable criticism to those thus
disposed. I believe a man will generally come out
better to do as he would have others do by him. I
was now pretty well established in the commission
business, had the agency of a new line of packets, and
had increased my capital to ten thousand dollars. The
first year I commenced business for myself I made
some six thousand dollars, So much for steering my
own ship, without being under the necessity of divid-
ing my profits with any one. I worked hard by day
and by night, and allowed no grass to grow under my
feet. Up with the sun, and seldom ever through with
my work until nine o’clock at night, I felt sure that
success must attend such unwearied industry.
My relations with Mr. Wing, of Albany, proved profit-
ables though I had competitors in almost everything,
yet I was never thrown off the track. Opposition seemed
to wake me up and bring out all of energy there was
in me. Wing at Albany and Snow in Boston were
more than a match for the opposition; it had to give
way, and we came out ahead. It was a common re-
mark among our competitors, that Snow and Wing
were too smart for them, and that they were bound to
succeed and make money.
7
a
Pa a
162 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
The shoe trade just began to take the lead, and most
of them were being shipped West, via Albany; and I
‘used to visit all the shoe stores every day for freight
for our line. There was a firm by the name of Walker
& Emerson, whose store was in South Market Street,
and usually full of boxes of shoes. I used to won-
der where a market could be found for so many shoes.
But now a store of that capacity would hardly be
thought of any account, so rapidly has the shoe trade
increased. At present it is the largest branch of
manufacturing industry in the country. It has con-
tinued to take the lead, until there is more capital and
working-men engaged in the shoe and leather business
than in any other.
I owned more or less of the line of packets. After
about two years my commission had so inereased that
it required all the time I had to look after its interests ;
for I made it a point not to overdo or take upon myself
more than I could do well. I made a contract with
one of the captains by the name of Seudder, whem I
saw was smart, and seemed cut out for a trader, and
gave him charge of the packets. After a while he
wanted to become my partner, but I did not judge it
best. I had built up one business and taken in a
partner, and he had taken advantage of me, and I con-
cluded I would not get another. I preferred to pay
him a salary; but he was ambitious and wanted to
do better. But I did not care to put myself into a
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 163
position which I might afterward regret. I. R. Wing,
the Albany agent, who was worth about two thous-
and dollars when we commenced the new line, wanted
to become my partner. I thought well of him as
a good business man, and he had become worth ten
thousand dollars. But still there were some things in
his make-up which did not please me. He was a man
of fine figure and commanding personal appearance.
My wife took a great liking to him. He usually stop-
ped with us when in Boston, and I with him when in
Albany. He dealt mostly in butter, cheese, and grain,
' and shipped largely in every packet to Boston, either
on joint account with me, or on his own account. This
made him about as much of a partner as I cared to have
in him, and we could make as much money as if he
were a partner in full. My declining to enter into co-
partnership in both cases, shows that I was far-sceing
in that particular; though as a business man I thought
Wing above mediocrity. But when he and Scudder
had failed to get me to accept their proposals to become
partners, they made up a co-partnership between them-
selves. This I did not like; and I confess I thought
rather hard of Scudder, as he had been in my employ
several years, and knew as much of my business as I
did, and I used to confide in him and trust him in the
transaction of much of my business. These two men,
becoming partners in business, would take the packets ;
and as Scudder was from the Cape, and intimately ac-
164 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
quainted with all the captains, and Wing agent at
Albany, they could control all the shipments to Boston.
In this way I thought I should lose my new milch cow
sure. They were both sociable and companionable,
and to be acquainted with them.one could but like
them, and one can judge of my surprise when it came :
out that they had formed a business connection. Scud-—
der was the smartest of all the captains, —a natural
trader, and used to trade more or less between Boston
and Albany. When freight was dull, in the spring,
he would make a joint note and get it discounted at the
Barnstable Bank, which was his capital in trade, for
the season, and pay up the note in the fall after the
freighting season was over. These captains were all
intimate with each other, and a little envy, as usual,
existed if one out-generaled the other. They used to
let me into their manceuvrings now and then; and
Scudder, before I took him into my employ, used to
lead off in trade, and sometimes rather get the better
of them, which they did not like; so when he tried
some of his old games on me, some of the old captains
let the cat out of the bag. As an example: I found
one day that they were chuckling over something, and I
asked what it was. No one was disposed to tell fora
time; but it was too good a trick on me to keep to
themselves, it being so much like some tricks he had
played on them. I was a large shipper of codfish to
Albany on joint account with Wing. Scudder was
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 165
usually out on the wharf, watching for any bargain in
fish which might turn up, as it would make freight for
the packet. There was a line of packets running from
Central Wharf to Hartford, and the master lived at
- Osterville on the Cape, a near neighbor of the master
of our line of packets to Albany. Scudder came to
me one day, and said that Captain Crosby had a lot of
fish he had taken to Hartford, and failing to sell them,
had brought them back to Boston, and we could buy
them at such a price, which we both thought to be low.
I said, ‘‘ Well, if you think they will pay, you may
buy them.” So the trade was made and the fish ship-
ped to Albany. But it came out, finally, that Scudder
had bought the fish of Crosby on his own account, and
then sold them to me at a higher price, and he and
Crosby divided the profits. This settled a matter
which afterwards worked against him, and was the
true cause of my not taking him as a partner. I
made him, however, discount his part of what was
made on the fish. The captains had a good, hearty
laugh over it, —that Scudder had out-generaled Snow,
as he had them many atime. Though he and I were
ever good friends, even if he was my competitor in
_ business, yet that transaction, and some others which
came ta my knowledge, made him feel unpleasantly.
I have ever been of the opinion, that if one does a
mean, under-handed act, it will never die; but its in-
fluence will ever re-act upon them. So I advise every
166 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
young man who reads these pages, never to do an act, —
‘
the remembrance of which will cause pain. It is said
that influence never dies. So our actions, good or
bad, will live long after these bodies moulder in the
grave.
The new firm of Wing & Scudder soon came out,
2
and was published. I must confess that for a time I —
was a little nettled at this, as those I had counted my
friends had turned against me. They could do what I
could not. To make money seemed to be their ruling
passion. In morals, some think that the end sanctifies
the means; but I never adopted that as my motto.
Right conduct, with industry, perseverance, and econo-
my, was the basis of my action; and I had faith only
in these means. Some men cannot bear prosperity.
Wing was one of that class. Some men, when poor,
are pretty good Christians, but when they prosper in
business and become rich, they are apt to get upset,
and consequently go under. Such was the fact with
Wing. He and Scudder did a fair business, and made
money, but with wealth Wing began to own fast horses,
kept bad company, betted and gambled, till he lost his
character, his money, and credit, and then became
bankrupt. His wife died broken hearted, and the last
I heard of him he was in California. Seudder remained
in Boston, took in another partner, and kept on in the
flour and commission business, and continues in it now.
So much for one of my partners. I hardly ever knew
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 167
so sad a case as that of Wing. When I first became
acquainted with him (through masters of vessels who
became interested in the new line), he was a young
man of as fine appearance as I ever saw. The captains
all liked him and traded with him, and he was very
popular. But when he became rich, he let go his hold
‘on morality, character, wife, and children, and went
straight to ruin. I never knew so short a career. He
_ was the son of a Quaker, of high moral character, and
‘had been well brought up. His wife also was of a
good family, and, when married, they moved in good
society. But it may truly be said of him, ‘he died as
the fool dieth;” alienated from home, with no kind
hand to close his eyes in death. He came near ruining
his partner. Thus ended a co-partnership which I so
much regretted at the time. It was fortunate that I
did not enter into business with him. There are times
in one’s life, when we stand on the border of melstroms,
and did we know our danger we should tremble. I
just escaped their deadly whirl and that was all. I
seemed to be guided by an over-ruling Providence in
this as well as in many other dilemmas into which others
have fallen. Thus far I have come out safe.
I kept an eye open, looking out for the storm that
might come, so as not to be taken unawares. I had
now escaped many dangers in business, and was steadily
advancing in my trade. I kept clear of speculation,
never made money very fast, but always managed to
168 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
lay up from five thousand to six thousand dollars per
year, clear of all expenses. I took an inventory of my
assets and liabilities in 1839, ’40, and found I was worth
nineteen thousand four hundred and fifty-eight dollars.
Hardly any one thought I was worth half that sum.
During this time I had a very vexatious lawsuit,
which took place about a year after I dissolved with El-
dridge. It was on this wise: I was selling flour for a
miller in the upper part of New York. I had visited
him at his home, and he and his wife had been my
guests in Boston. This was a case wherein interest was
more influential than social relations. I had closed up
a consignment of flour, and was ready to pay him the
balance. He wished to know if I could not buy him a
draft on New York. I answered, that I thought I
could, though it was not always in the market for sale,
as Boston owed New York, and the balance was against
us. But after a while I found a man by the name of
Clark, a son-in-law of Father Pickering, who drew the
amount I wanted,—viz., two thousand dollars, — on
one Winslow, his brother-in-law. He brought me the
draft, made payable to my order, to which I objected, as
that would oblige me to endorse it, and thereby make me
responsible. He said it would make no difference, the
draft would be paid, and being in a hurry, he would not
go back to his store to draw a new draft. So I took it and
passed it over to my friend, as I took him to be; but, sin-
gularly enough, it proved the reverse. Soon after, the
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 169
person took the draft on his way to New York, in one of
the Sound steamers—a boat I had frequently made
passage in from New York to Boston. The steamer
took fire, and was entirely destroyed, and he with her.
Then came the tug of war. My friend, failing to get
the money on his draft, commenced a suit against me,
attached all my personal property, and came near stop-
- ping me in business, as I found it quite difficult to give
bonds. Here was another test of friendship. Those I
had counted my friends indeed, declined. There was no
real necessity of attaching personal property, as I had
real estate in the city worth double the amount of the
draft; but so it was. But in law, at that time, equity
prevailed, and Judge Story ruled in my favor, and the
jury acquitted me before they left their seats. It turned
on this point: I notified the owner of the draft as soon
as the acceptance had failed, and offered my services to
do all I could to collect it. He made no reply; not
even notifying me that he should look to me for the
payment of the same, as endorser, until thirty days after
my letter. The Judge ruled that I was not responsi-
ble. This decision in my favor sent a thrill of joy
through my system; for to lose two thousand dollars
was quite a sum, especially as I did not owe it, and as
I was worth at the time only about ten thousand. The
lawyer who took this case told me that he would show
that draft to any merchant in Boston, and if he could
not secure a decision in his favor, he would give up his
15
170 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
practice in law; but before the case came to trial, he
was elected mayor of Boston, and transferred his law
business to an attorney by the name of Barret, who.
was a great chewer of the filthy weed called tobacco ;
and when the Judge was ruling in my favor, he seemed
to chew and spit as if he was on the anxious-seat, while
I enjoyed it more than ever before or since. As I said
before, the jury gave a verdict in my favor without
leaving their seats. So ended my first lawsuit, and
about the last, as I had no taste for the law, except the
law of God. a
I always took an inventory of stock every six months,
and I could tell any one how I stood at any time. I
kept an account, also, of family expenses. I had now
been in Boston about six years. I came in 1833 or 34,
worth six thousand dollars, and had more than doubled
it. Ihad added to that amount more or less every year ;
and never, since sitting on that stump in West Barnsta-
ble, nearly ten years before, had I added less, above
family and store expenses, than four hundred dollars
a year. In most cases men make, some years, large
profits, in business or speculation, and then lose all and
more too; but it was not so with me. I never failed
any year to make four hundred dollars and upwards.
My health was good, and I kept steadily on, bringing
all the faculties I possessed into exercise, never relaxing
my energy, allowing myself no vacation, nor my ex-
penses to increase. I made an entry in 1837 of my
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. abies 70)
expenses annually. I charged myself three hundred
dollars rent, which amounted to $1,694.00 in 1838,
$2,024.00 in 1839, $1,854.00 in 1840, $1,803 in 1841,
and $1,863.00 each succeeding year up to 1847. WhenI
had a family of four children, my expenses did not ex-
ceed $2,694.00. Of this, I gave more or less for bene-
volent objects, and had some sickness in the family.
While living in Garden Court, Boston, we were
thrown into great distress on May-day. Sarah and
Elizabeth went up to the Common to get some flowers.
Sarah seeing some one coming in from Roxbury with
some flowers, and not finding any on the Common,
thought she might get some, and left Elizabeth on the
Common till her return. But she, becoming uneasy,
went after her, and missing each other, Sarah returned
home without Elizabeth. Then the mother was in
great distress, and a thousand and one stories were set
afloat about her being carried off and dissected by doc-
tors, etc. I employed the Boston crier, and off we
started, ringing his bell, and crying, ‘‘ A girl lost!”
When we arrived at near Boylston Street, the lost was
found, which, on our return, gave joy to all in the
house. Though there was no calf killed, yet we were
truly grateful that the child was found.
- JI did not connect myself with any church, which I
- ever after considered the great error of my life; yet I
hired half a pew in Bennet Street M. E. Church.
Sarah attended Sunday-school, and soon after was con-
€
172 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
verted and became deeply interested in learning her
lessons. She was the most precocious child of all, and —
“was very companionable, especially to those older
than herself. She was one of six girls who formed a
class, and had for their teacher a Miss Sampson. They
were about of the same age. She became a member
of the late Isaac Rich’s class, and was beloved by all
who knew her. She was a faithful attendant upon her
class, even after we moved to Charlestown. But, in
a short time, she took a violent cold, which settled upon
her lungs, and she soon after left us for the better
country, where there is no sickness or death. This
was a terrible blow to us, as she was the idol of our
family.
Before the railroad to Albany was built, the most of
our western produce, such as flour and grain, came to
Boston by our line of packets, and I was frequently in
New York to purchase flour, which I often did through
a broker by the name of Wolfe. At one time, in the
month of November, I bought largely for a limited
capital, as packets did not run in the winter as now.
My purchases were for cash, payable upon receipt of
‘bill of laden. After my return, and the excitement
had subsided, I began to think about my remittance to
New York. My sales were dull, and yet I was expect-
ing to realize from my sales to meet my ~payment.
But I did not seem to make my usual sales, and the
amount I had to, pay began to loom up before me like
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 173
a mountain, and the more I thought about it the larger
it grew. I had always met my agreement to pay on
time, and it began to look as though, in this case, I
should fail so to do. It troubled me very much. I
‘could not sleep, and was nearly unfitted for business.
So I thought I would see, in case I should come short
in my sales and collections to meet the debt on time, if
I could not borrow for a short time; and each one to
whom I applied, agreed to loan me one thousand dol-
lars, until I had the promise of five thousand dollars.
This put new courage into me, and after the loan was
thus secured, I set myself about collecting and selling,
and was able to meet all my bills on time, without any
help from without. I merely mention this to show
how highly I valued my word, and how in my own
estimation my credit stood.
In connection with my flour and grain business, I was
the agent of a saw-mill at Lockport, N. Y., which sawed
white oak ship-plank. I had a depot at East Boston,
and nearly all of the packets brought a deck-load-of
ship-plank and timber. The timber was cut in Ohio,
and came via lake and canal to Lockport. Though I
was a Boston merchant, I was not above any business
that I undertook. I used to be on hand when a packet
arrived, and would manage to make a raft and get it
into dock myself. I used to sell, mostly, to go to Med-
ford, then the principal shipbuilding place in New Eng-
land. Not less than fifteen large ships might be seen
there on the stocks at one time.
t
174 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR,.
Isaac Rich had commenced the fresh fish business in
Faneuil Market before this time. The Market was built
in 1825. He followed his business very assiduously,
and took the lead in that department. He might truly
be said to have been a ‘‘ fishmonger.” In Shakspeare’s
play of ‘‘ Hamlet,” a fishmonger—the Prince of Den-
mark — was considered an honest man, and as one se-
lected from ten thousand.
On account of the damp atmosphere of the market,
Mr. Rich’s health began to fail, and his physician ad-
vised him to change his business, or consumption might
take him, as nearly all his children had died of that dis-
ease. He heeded the advice and took a counting-room
over the flour store of S. Robinson, City Wharf, to whom.
he furnished capital, and received part of the profits.
Our acquaintance, after a few years, ripened into a
co-partnership. It might not be of sufficient interest to
narrate all the little incidents connected with the three
years of trade in the old wooden store, head of City —
Wharf, under the firm of ‘*‘ David Snow & Co., com-
mission merchants ;” though during that time several
- chances offered to take in one and another as co-part-
ners. At one time a man by the name of Moody came
very near clinching the nail; but a week of trial satis-
fied me that there was not quite snap enough in him for
me; so he fell astern, with others.
About this time George Hallett, one of the old Bos-
ton merchants, came into one of the insurance offices
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 175
(he was from the Cape) and said, with some surprise,
‘«‘ What do you suppose I saw to-day as I was passing
through Atkinson Street (now Congress Street) ?—
Isaac Rich, that little fish-dealer, moving into one of
those new houses (a block just built), with a rental of
$600.00! What do you suppose we are coming to?”
That same building, in 1860, commanded $1,800.00;
indicating the wonderful changes that have taken place.
Mr. Rich, Gove, Dr.Snowand some others, left Bennet
Street and Bromfield Street Churches in 1841, for the
purpose of commencing a meeting in the old Federal
Street Theatre, which had been occupied for a short
time by the Congregationalists. Mr: Maffitt there
preacher. The effort was a failure. Mr. Maffitt for a
time drew immense crowds; but his election to Con-
gress as chaplain, scattered the people. On his return
he attempted to raise funds for the society, by getting
up a concert. He distributed handbills in all the
prominent places. I said to him: ‘Is not that quite a
display for a Methodist Society?” ‘¢ Oh, no, Brother
Snow,” he replied, ‘‘ people now-a-days have to be
humbugged, and are not satisfied with anything short of
this.” The society, failing to build a church on Beach
Street, returned mainly to Bromfield Street.
Mr. Maffitt had a peculiar way of doing some things.
I well remember a scene which I witnessed at Bennet
Street. Dr. Porter, the pastor, had invited Mr. Maf-
fitt to assist him in a series of meetings, continuing
176 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
about three months. At the close, an effort was made
to raise five hundred dollars for Mr. Maffitt. The
boxes were passed, but the money did ‘not come.
After some further talk about raising the money, and
matters not moving to suit Mr. Maffitt, he deliber-
ately walked down the aisle and out of the door, lock-
ing it as he went out, and passing around the building,
came in at the other door, locking it after him, and
walking deliberately up to the altar, said: ‘* Brothers
and sisters, this money must be raised on the spot. I
have locked both doors, and no one will go out until it
is done.” This was cool. There being no way to. get
out but to pay the money ; it was raised in a short time,
and we went home. Such a method of raising money
for such a purpose is to my mind questionable, what-
ever some may think of it. If the people will not sus-
tain the gospel, they ought not to have it.
In 1840 or 1841, I purchased an estate in Charles-
town, adjoining Bunker Hill monument, for which I
paid six thousand eight hundred dollars, including floor-
carpets. It contained sixteen thousand feet of land.
This and another lot adjoining it formed a square. It
had a commanding view of Boston and the adjoining
towns. I thought then I was in clover: a good busi-
ness and almost a palace to live in. I then, for the first
time, gave in my name and became a member of the
High Street M. E. Church, where I remained until
there was a division, and the Union M. E. Church was
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. cy Ge |
organized, and for a time worshipped in City Hall, then
near by, until we built the brick church on the corner
of Concord and High Streets, near the monument.
- When I was first settled in Charlestown, I became
very much interested in a family by the name of D é
They had five children, — three sons and two daughters,
—all of whom were members of the Sabbath-school. I
think they were the most precocious children I ever
knew. They bloomed early in life. I took the eldest
boy at sixteen years of age into my employ as a clerk.
He was very smart; could do as much work as a man;
was a fine scholar, a splendid penman, and all one could
desire in a boy of his age. He was also a member of
the church and Sunday-school. If a valedictory was
to be spoken, he was the boy-selected to do it. But he
possessed elements of character, which, if not changed,
would lead any young man to ruin. He early acquired
the habit of using tobacco, and then, as is usually the
case, associated with it drinking, and at times was so
under the influence of liquor as to be incapacitated for
business ; and then to meet his expenses would over-
_ draw his account. But I bore with him for some time,
and again loaned him money to make good his cash, as
_ he was my book keeper, and had charge of my bank
account. He remained with me some years, however,
and when I took into partnership Isaac Rich, he was
our book-keeper until we dissolved; and then I made
him a present of five hundred dollars, as I found he had
178 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 7
spent his salary, which for years had been one thousand ~ :
dollars per year. Another clerk in our employ who
had the same salary during our co-partnership, had sayed
over five thousand dollars. After our dissolution, Mr.
Rich took him into partnership, with other clerks, and
allowed him one-eighth of the profits, and in eight years
his part of the profits was thirty-two thousand dollars.
He was married, lived in good style, owned a house in
C , kept a horse and carriage, and I thought he had
got command of his appetite; but not so. Suecess in
business proved his ruin. He dissolved with Mr. Rich,
set up in business for himself, and in two years lost all
and failed. He went into clerkship, but his old habits
got the advantage of him again, and he became poor
indeed, and came to me for help.
At one time he rose gradually in political life. He
was president of the council board in C——, and might
have been mayor if he had not allowed his appetite to
rule him. One thing I wish to mention as a warning
to parents. While he was paying attention to the lady
who afterwards became his first wife, her father, who
was an Englishman, used to treat him to porter, which
aided to increase his appetite for something stronger ;
and he lived to see his folly in so doing.
He was a fine-looking young man, possessing very
social and gentlemanly manners; the best of book-
keepers, quick and correct —could do the work of al-
most any two men I ever saw; and yet such noble en-
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 179
dowments were all subordinated to the beastly habits
of rum and tobacco. I sincerely desire that those who
read this account of one of Nature’s noblemen, will take
_ warning and flee from such appetites as a bird would
flee from the fowler. How my poor heart has ached
when I have thought of him. It is with pleasure that
Ihave learned of late of his reformation; that he has
turned to sobriety and to his church relations. May he
live to honor society and bless his family.
When I had been living in Garden Court Street some
two years, I went to Father Taylor’s meeting, which
was near by. I attended there until I went to Charles-
town. My business increased, and so did my profits ;
and in 1840, I found myself worth $23,835. Still I
kept my expenses down. I was not like too many,
who, when they do well one year, think it will always
be so, and branch out into the extravagances of the day.
There was an element in me which, when I was making
_ money fast, somehow made me more prudent, and less
inclined to be extravagant. My wife would frequently
say that such and- such families did so and so, —had
such and such furniture, —and why could not we do
the same. But I said no; I could not steer my ship
by my neighbor’s, but by my own compass. I never al-
lowed myself to live above what I thought I could af-
ford, whether others did so or not. In 1841, I was
worth $29,618.00; in 1842, $35,565.00; and in 1843,
$38,854.00. So any one may see that I was on the >
180 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
upward grade. Business with me, I acknowledge, was
the all-absorbing thought. I always laid out my work
in the morning or evening, so that when I came to the
store I was ready for action. I was usually at my store
as early as six in the morning (it took but fifteen min-
utes’ travel when I resided at Charlestown), and home
at night by eight or nine o’clock. I allowed no one to
be ahead of me at my store, not even the clerks.
I attended meeting at the Bethel for some time after
I moved to Charlestown. Father Taylor, as we called
him, was a very peculiar man. He had the faculty of
drawing people to him. He could be the lion or the
lamb, as his interest dictated. I studied him closely ;
and, though he would at times abuse some of his breth-
ren shamefully, yet he never tried it on me. At one
time I remember his harsh treatment of one of his prom-
inent men, and I was so affected by it (for I thought
he was a good man), that I called at his house to ex-
postulate with him on his conduct. The only thing he
had against the brother was, that he was anti-slavery,
and Father Taylor was pro-slavery. - At that time the
New England churches were about equally divided —
some for slavery and some against it. Father Taylor
was born in Virginia, and had the idea, like other Vir-
ginians, that slavery was a Divine institution. I plead
for the brother with all my heart, but such was his aus-
tere manner and conduct in that case, that I actually
wept before him. Still he would not give way, so the
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 181
brother left and went to Bennet Street, from whence
he came. Father Taylor was a man of very strong
feelings, and had great influence over the seamen, the
worshippers at the Bethel. He commenced his minis-
try with the sailors at Methodist Alley. He used to
hold meetings on board vessels, and drew crowds to
hear him. He was blessed with powerful lungs, but
abused them so that in after years his voice failed him.
He was a wonderful man in many respects, but pos-
sessed no executive ability. His wife was the financial
agent of the house. For a more detailed account of
him, read his life, written by Bishop Haven.
I had now been in Boston about nine years; had a
very fine residence in Charlestown; had sold my house
in Boston for a little less than it cost; I was well estab-
lished in business, with capital enough for the business
I was doing. By dint of industry I had established
my credit, so that I could buy at the lowest -market
price. I worked myself and made all my help work,
even my clerks, if necessary. I allowed no idler in my
employ, and lived to see most of those who had been
my partners, and others who desired to be, drop off to
the leeward, as previously mentioned.
_ Here closes an important period in my business rela-
tions, and the entrance upon the most successful co-
partnership of my life.
16
Deas!
CHAPTER XI.
SNOW AND RICH.
‘*For gold the merchant ploughs the main.”
— Burns.
if SHALL, in this chapter, give some account of my
relations with the late Isaac Rich. At the time of
which I write, Mr. Rich had left the market, and was in
company with S. Robinson, a‘flour dealer; but he still
continued to carry on the wholesale fish business, chiefly
in mackerel and alewives, shipping largely to Strout & —
Brothers, Philadelphia. Though he was in the flour
business, the fish business was more to his mind and
taste. My business was mainly flour and fish. Mr.
Rich knew but very little outside of the fish trade. In
that he was at home, and usually led off. He frequent-
ly showed me his account of sales from Strout & Brothers.
The amount of profits was to me quite tempting.
After comparing notes we concluded, as the fishermen
say, to ‘* throw together.” I knew him to be a prac-
tical man, and that he had made, according to his own
182
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. ~- 183
statement, some forty thousand dollars. I was worth
at this time only thirty-five thousand. In view of all
the circumstances, the idea of connecting the fishing
trade with flour and grain struck us both as likely to
work well. Though Mr. Rich had no advantages of the
schools, and could never write his own letters, yet I dis-
covered in him elements that constituted a good, safe
business man, confident in his own ability in whatever
he undertook. We had been together considerably at
camp-meetings and other places, as well as in the church
at old Bennet Street, and we were pretty well posted in
regard to nearly all the fishermen on the Cape.
After considerable preliminary talk, we formed a co-
partnership in 1843, under the name of Snow & Rich,
which firm, in a few years, became extensively known
throughout the United States. We became the centre
and circumference of the fish trade. In our articles of
agreement, each was to furnish twenty-five thousand
dollars, making our net capital fifty thousand, which in
those days would be equal to one hundred thousand dol-
lars in 1870, as fish and flour were selling at one-half
the price of to-day.
_At the age of twenty-one, young Paddock, my first
clerk, left me, and he and his brother set up in the same
business which I had formerly carried on. I loaned
him one thousand dollars to start with. His brother
had as much more; and though they were smart, likely
men, they did not succeed. One of them died soon
184 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR,
after, and the other moved to California, and is there
now, so far as I know. t
The first year that Snow & Rich were in business, the
fish trade was at a low ebb. The year previous there
was an over-catch, and markets fell one-half in price,
and most of the small dealers failed, and everybody
seemed afraid to touch a codfish. In the Fall of 1843,
there were some fifty thousand quintals of splendid cod-,
fish on hand, in Marblehead and Beverly, the great fish
depots in those days, ready for market. ‘There werea
large class of coasters, or small vessels, running between
Boston and New York, which would haul up into Coen-
ties Slip, in the latter city, and retail cargoes of fish.
No one dealing in fish, in New York, thought of taking
fish into their store, as now, but would deliver from the
vessels as their orders came in; and when the vessels
sold out, they would purchase a carge of flour and grain
and come to Boston and other adjoining places and re-
tail it out, as they did their fish in New York. But we
thought something might be done to change this trade,
so we sent a man to Marblehead and Beverly and
swept the market of codfish — buying some forty thous-
and quintals at one time, at about one dollar and fifty
cents per quintal. This produced a wonderful stir
among the fish dealers. Some thought we were erazy,
_ sure. One old dealer asked me one day what we were
going to do with so many fish. I said, ‘* Sell them.”
He replied, that we never could sell them in the world;
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 185
and no doubt he thought so, for such a lot was never in
the market before nor since. This purchase of Snow &
Rich revolutionized the fish trade, both here and in New
York, as we anticipated. There are times in trade, as
in nature, when things become dull and stagnant, and
it requires a tremendous storm to produce a change.
Soon after Rich and I had commenced business, we
both agreed, that if we failed, and had to go back to our
old calling, — he to the fish market and I to the bake-
house, — in either case, which ever business proved the
best to support our families, we would share equally in
it; if he, for instance, went to selling fresh fish, I
should have a chance with him, if I so desired; and if
I went to baking I should allow him an interest with
-me, if he preferred baking, driving on a route, and
selling crackers, to selling fish. So, as it may be seen,
we made our plans on the safe side, as we thought; for
we knew about what the old business would do, but the
new enterprise was uncertain. In this we were each
looking well to the windward.
Not unfrequently, while I resided in Charlestown, I
would saddle my horse and ride over to Boston, can-
vass every wharf where fish were landed, and get post-
ed up as to the market, return home to breakfast, and
be back to business by the time others arrived, and in
this way I was ahead of them, and made my plans ac-
cordingly. I learned that an hour in the early morning
was better that two in any other part of the day.
186 FROM POVERTY TO, PLENTY; OR,
After I had been in Charlestown about three years,
I purchased the adjoining estate to mine, for eight thou-
sand seven hundred dollars. This made me owner of —
three-fourths of an acre of land, forming a square of
thirty-four thousand feet, at the head of Cordis Street. —
I thought then I had the best location for a residence in
New England. The same lot is now covered-by four-
teen brick houses. Of course there was much which
transpired during the first six years of my residence in—
Charlestown. Our eldest daughter, Sarah, died. I
had formed a co-partnership with Isdac Rich; and the
first year, when not’a few thought we were crazy and
would ‘*‘ burst up,” we divided a net profit of thirty-six
thousand dollars. This settled the matter with us that
we had made no mistake on the start. Snow & Rich
soon became the head and leaders in the fish trade over
all the country. As our business increased, our capital
increased, and Mr. Rich thought that we had better en-
gage in navigation. He owned.a small part of a ship ~
with a Captain Wise, who wanted us, or some one, to
build him a new ship; and coming to Rich, he made
out a good case. He said his friend at Mobile would
take one-quarter, and if Snow & Rich would take the —
balance, they could manage her; which they consented
to do. This was the commencement of our interest in
navigation. *
Mr. Rich was naturally a far-seeing, industrious man. —
In this he had few equals. As an illustration of his
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 187
character in this respect, the night on which he was mar-
ried the market was nearly destitute of fish, and several
vessels were expected every moment. At about twelve
_ o'clock he was called up by the report that a vessel had
Just-arrived, loaded with fish. He got up and went
down to T Wharf, bought the entire cargo, and re-
turned home to his waiting bride, and they, no doubt,
rejoiced over the successful purchase. A new wife did
not interfere with the purchase of fish, so long as there
was money in it. On the following morning the fisher-
-men did not start as early as formerly to lay in their
stock of fish, not expecting any opposition from Rich,
and thinking he would not arise as early as usual; but,
_ jadge of their surprise, when, in the morning, quite ear-
_ ly, Rich was on hand at his stand, well stocked with fish,
and they had to purchase their supply of him for that
day. An old fish-dealer told me that the profits of that
cargo of fish exceeded all the expenses of the wedding ;
as it was not the fashion in those days as now, to spend
a month on a wedding tour. With such industry and
economy what could keep a man poor. The question
has often been asked, how Rich became so wealthy. If
| you study the history of all rich men, who are self-
made, you will find they started on the basis of strict
economy, and worked their way up to position and
wealth.
After we built the ship ‘‘ Chasca,” for Capt. Wise, we
built the «¢ Anna Rich,” named after Rich’s oldest daugh-
188 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR,
ter. Capt. Burwell commanded her. We then bui
the barque ‘‘ Sarah Snow,” then the ‘‘ Susan Hinks,”
and, finally, the ‘* Storm King,” of fourteen hundred
tons. As our business increased, and our profits were
not less than thirty thousand to fifty thousand dollars
per annum, we bought Constitution Wharf, for which
we paid one hundred and sixty-eight thousand dollars,
— fifty thousand down. We then wrote to a merchant
in New York, who broke down on the mackerel joint-
account operation, asking if he could help us in this
payment. His reply was, ‘‘ Yes, draw for ten thous-
and or twenty thousand dollars, as I suppose you
will yet own all Boston.” This caused quite a laugh;
even the thought that two fatherless boys were des-
tined to own all Boston, or that the merchant in New
York should entertain such sanguine expectations,
though we had from the first produced a profound
sensation among the fish-dealers in New York. |
Mr. Rich and myself were not exactly alike in tem-
perament; still, by yielding one to the other, we
remained together eleven years. He was of a ner-
vous sanguine temperament. He possessed an ele-
ment I never could endorse. He seemed to make
people like him, and make them feel at times as though
he was their best friend, and still could use them as
his interests seemed to demand, without, apparently,
any compunctions of conscience. He was passionate
at times, and would say pretty hard things even to me,
.
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 189
but I seldom took fire at the moment, and before I be-
came really settled in my mind what to say in answer,
he would come and take back all, and would manifest
so much regret for what he had said, that I would let it
all go and think no more about it.
He was out-spoken, and at times would go beyond
what he really meant. Whenever he got into a bad fix
in a trade, he would manage to make me shoulder a part,
or the whole, and at times used me as the monkey did
the cat, to pull the chestnuts out of the fire. At one
time, he and others bought a lot of land on the corner
of Harrison Avenue and Beach Street, for a church.
He, with Messrs. Gove and Gale, were a committee to
make the first payment. But neither of the others
had any money, though it was understood that the
committee were to furnish one-third each. So they
proposed to raise it on a joint-note. To this Rich
would not consent. The lot was bought, and Rich was
bound in some way to pay the advance, according to
agreement, and as the others had-backed out, the load
came on him. In this state of things the church was
willing to abandon the whole thing. Rich came to me
and urged me to buy the lot on speculation; thought
we could make money on it, though I did not think so.
- But out of sympathy for him, he being my partner, and
to get him out of the difficulty, I consented, and we
paid twenty-five thousand dollars for the land. We
held it for one year, and then sold it for one thous-
be
190 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
and dollars and interest over cost, to one Baker, who
built the present church, which was owned and used by
the Unitarians. Rich was venturesome at times, even
more so than I was; but he hardly ever made a mistake.
It would somehow come out all right. ‘It is always
said that in a concern some one must bear what-
ever is unpopular in it, and Rich had the faculty to get
that on me. I would give way to him when I knew I
was right, rather than have contention. Mr. Rich was
usually the purchaser, though he would always consult
me, and after we had agreed not to buy any more
mackerel, he would go into the market and purchase
every barrel afloat. He used to make me very unpop-
ular with the fisherman, in this way: At times the docks
would be full of fish, and no buyers; all seemed to wait
for Snow & Rich to move. The fisherman would lounge
around and seek an offer. Rich would say, he was :
willing to buy, but Snow was not: and also, when he
bought, he would say he was willing to pay them more,
but his partner would not allow him to do it. But this
was all gammon, and yet it did work for our joint in-
terest. This is what I never could do. I was too
honest and open to mislead or to deceive any one in
that way. If I really thought we ought not to buy, I
would say so; and if urged so to do, I went against
my judgment; but I never could say I did not want to
buy when I really did, though I have known men who
would violate their conscience in this partteular and
:
|
:
:
:
:
:
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 191
think but little of it, and even regard it all right, if
they made money by it. Rich had educated himself to
look after both ends of his business, and could never
trust any one to do any part of it without he was con-
sulted; and would find fault with it unless he had a ~
hand in it. There are peculiarities in most representa-
tive men. Some men make it a point to be popular.
I have questioned whether it was possible for a man to
be popular, and, at the same time, be strictly honest.
_ A real partizan politician cannot, in my judgment, be
open-hearted and give to the public his real sentiments ;
these he will keep in the background, and be non-com-
mittal; take the popular side as his interest may lead.
~ My experience for twenty years has taught me this les-
son. I have been brought into contact with men who,
when they have reached a point by whatever course
their interest may have suggested, will then show their
true character. I do not claim for myself any great
merit for my conduct, but one thing I could never do,
— practice deception to make one feel that I was his
friend, and bide my time to pierce him to the very
vitals. I know it is said that it is wisdom to hold
your tongue; but mine, somehow, will move; and at
times, I have no doubt, to my disadvantage. A mer-
chant said to me one day, ‘‘ Snow, you lack policy.”
I said, «‘ If by policy you mean deception or double-
dealing, I am glad of it.” Though it may be human
nature to do so, it is human nature in its lowest form; ~
192 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
and I had far rather be called a little rough in my ex-
pressions than to cover up my real sentiments for the —
sake of being popular. It is, and ever has been, my
way, to turn out in the end better than people expect.
Some men study human diplomacy instead of human
nature, that they may take advantage of other men’s
mistakes. Selfishness is a tremendous power, even
among men who call themselves Christians. Some will
pretend to be friends to everybody, but in fact to no one
in particular. They willsay yes or no, just as others
may desire. I never could do that. A dear friend
came to me once, and asked me to advocate a popular
question. I said, ‘‘ No, I cannot do it; I must have
my conscience approve of what I do.”
Snow & Rich were ordinarily successful in all their
operations ; probably no two men were more so. Both
:
were good salesmen, and both good buyers. Our sales —
averaged over a million per annum; and during all the ©
time we were together we never lost, in bad debts, —
over ten thousand dollars.
_ After a few years we were able to pay the balance on ~
Constitution Wharf, and built a brick store at the head
of the wharf fronting Commercial Street, the very place
where the frigate ‘‘ Constitution” was built. In dig-
ging the cellar, we dug up some of the timber on which
she was built, and had it made into canes. Her bow-
sprit extended across the street ; and it is said that the
night previous to her being launched, the master builder,
/
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 193
who lived on the opposite side of the street, was much
excited; and all night in his sleep he was launching
her; and towards morning, placing his feet against his
wife, began, as he thought, to launch her, and sang out,
at the top of his voice, ‘‘ There goes !” and his wife found
herself on the floor, and he greatly surprised on awak-
ing to find the ship still on the stocks, and his wife
launched out of bed.
When we commenced business I lived in Charlestown,
and owned a horse and chaise; and as our store was on
City Wharf, and our fish were on Harris’s Wharf, where
we packed our mackerel vessels, Rich used to borrow
my horse to go back and forth, nearly a mile; and at
last he said I had better put it into the concern, as he
lived in Brookline. I judged it not best for two fami-
lies to own the same horse and carriage, and said to
him that he had better buy himself a horse and carriage,
-as his family would want to ride occasionally. His re-
ply was: ‘‘It would not look well for both of us to
own a horse.” This was good common sense, though
he allowed me, for a year, to pay the bills on my horse,
and he used it as much asI did. But at last he bought
_ him a horse, and afterwards he bought another, and
still another, and so on until he had at times three or
four, and a number of carriages. But I never owned
but one horse at a time. I mention this to show how
some people change with their circumstances, and allow
their expenses to increase. Mr. Rich had less feeling
7
194 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, 4
for the happiness of others than many; selfishness
seemed largely to predominate. He was naturally
headstrong and positive m matters of business; rather
dogmatical than otherwise. He had sense enough to
see the right, but not always goodness of heart enough
to regard it, especially if it came in conflict with his
own plans and interests. His last will and testament
was a true specimen of his character, which all may
read for themselves. He was self-made and self-edu-
cated. Nobody could do exactly as he could and
did, and therefore he was fretful and fault-finding, a
thing I never could endure, when applied to me, as I
always did all that any one was under obligation to do,
—I was never lazy.
After we had been together some nine years, and he
had lost, by death, all his children, and finding that he
grew more and more fretful, I judged it best, under all
the circumstances, to dissolve the co-partnership. We
agreed to do so at the end of two years. We had then
accumulated about two hundred and fifty thousand
dollars each. I had four children, and he seemed to be
envious of me, and did not manifest any interest in my
helping them, but rather the reverse, and I came to
the conclusion that it was best for me to do my own
business, and my children’s, who were then at an age
to require some help from their father. The eldest was
married, and another looking in that direction. We
had built a brick store at the head of Constitution
:
:
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 195
Wharf, and moved all our business there. We had be-
come the owners of some two hundred thousand feet
of wharf property, some five or six ships, ran a line
of packets to New Orleans, and had become extensively
known in the country, and in foreign parts, through our
ships, as they went to all parts of the world. We had
four clerks, all of whom were very competent men.
I pass over here many particulars which might come
into this history. Finally, we came to the end of our
co-partnership. We then owned Constitution Wharf,
worth two hundred thousand dollars, all paid for; one
hundred thousand dollars in shipping ; a large stock of
goods, such as mackerel, codfish, etc., on hand. To
divide all this equitably was my desire. I said to Mr.
Rich one day, that I would like to do by him as if he
was my own brother. I was honest in that expression,
and it became necessary for some one to name a price
to buy or sell.
The laboring part usually fellon me. Though Rich
was cunning and foxy in his movements, he ever had
the utmost confidence in me. As an example: Just
before we dissolved he was home—sick, but had partly
purchased a quantity of fish, and sent in word for me
to finish the trade. It was a poor trade, and under all
circumstances we did not want the fish; but he had
commenced, and I had to consummate it. The fish were
green, and warm weather coming on, they had to be
dried over; in this I did the best I could. And know-
’
196 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
ing that these fish would be in the way, as he did not
want them, he shipped them to St. Domingo, and in
our division he took the consignment at fifty per cent.
on the dollar, thereby making me lose one-half of his —
own purchase. Other instances might be named.
The time came to divide our stock of fish on hand,
which amounted to fifty thousand dollars. I asked
him to set a price. He declined, and insisted that I
must do it, and he would either buy or sell. _He was
expecting all the time to continue in the same business.
If he could only manage me, he had agreed with all our
clerks to take them in with him, and allow them each
one-eighth of the profits. All readily assented but one.
He went, also, to Philadelphia and New York, on the
sly, and made arrangements with all our old business
firms to do about as they had done, while I was lying
on my oars, not knowing how the matter would end,
except that we were to dissolve.
Now came the tug of war. Failing to get him com-
mitted in any possible way, and determined to wind up
the old concern, I had to make a-price for the old stock
in trade, without any consideration for so doing. Be-
sides, he had all the clerks on his side. But I said, it
must be done, and done it was. I took an imventory
of all the stock I could find. Some was not in sight,
and was not discovered until some time afterwards. I
had to give him his choice to take it or not. He meant
to take it, and I knew it; yet he seemed a little afraid
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 197
of the responsibility. My terms were, that he who
took the stock should have the good will of the concern,
and the other should not engage in the same business
for one year. He admitted I had set him a fair price
on each article, but still he could not decide, and took
it home to consult his wife. I knew that was a mere
pretence to gain time, as the thing was settled in his
own mind. But he was afraid of me, and yet I was
free and open-hearted with him at all times.
A circumstance took place a short time before we dis-
solved that made me feel badly. A new general in-
spector of fish was to be appointed; and as we were
the leading men in that business, the applicants all
came to us to sign their petitions. Mr. Rich said to me
one day, ‘‘ Mr. Snow, I think we better not sign any
one’s petition, if we do We shall make enemies of the
rest.” I said, ‘‘ Well, just as you think best;” and
we agreed not to sign any_ petitions. And though I
was urged daily to do so, yet my hands were tied. I
thought the matter settled, until one day one of the
‘petitioners came to me and said: ‘‘ I thought you would
not sign any petition.” Isaid,‘‘Yes.” ‘* Well,” said he,
‘your partner did, and Mr. Paine has got the appoint-
ment.” Isaid nothing. Soon after, a Mr. I. W. Low,
who had been to us time and again to sign a petition
for a friend of his at Gloucester, and had been refused,
came into the store, and walking up to Mr. Rich, said:
**I learn you signed Paine’s petition.” <‘‘ Well,” said
198 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
Mr. Rich, ‘‘ you did not believe it, did you?” and be-
fore Mr. Low could reply, turned the conversation to
another subject, and engaged him to buy a lot of
mackerel at Gloucester. I was sitting by and said to
myself, ‘‘ That was well done.” Mr. Low was no
wiser than when he came, and a little commission on a
lot of mackerel threw him off the track. But I began
to see through it. Mr. Rich wanted a man as general
inspector that would be under obligation to him, and
that was the only way to secure it.
After Snow & Rich were well settled in business, one
thing took place which I never forget. Mr. Rich pos-
sessed one faculty which but few possess. He could
make one feel that he was his very best friend, and that
he was going to do something for him that would be
for his interest, when in fact his object was to carry a
point by which his own interests would be promoted.
I had evidence of this on several occasions. Our credit
as a business concern was beyond question. One day
Mr. Rich said to me that he thought it would be to ra
interest to get up anew bank. I thought differently?
But he made me believe that it was mainly for my bene-
fit, as I was the financial partner, doing all the bank
business. I replied that we could dictate our own
terms at the banks, and if we established a new bank,
we must abide by the rules we made; and, as we dealt
largely in exchange, I thought it not for our interest to
be tied to any one bank. But after several talks upon
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 199
the subject, finding that his heart seemed set upon it,
I gave way (for he was not the man to give up an en-
terprise which he had started), and I acted with him.
Nothing was settled between us as to who should go
into the direction, only he would frequently say it was
my place, and that he wanted me to be one of the direc-
tors. So we subscribed ten thousand dollars, and used
all our influence to get subscribers ; and we secured about
twenty thousand dollars additional. It was not so easy
a matter then as now to get up a bank of five hundred
thousand dollars. It was really hard work to get the -
stock all subscribed. I was chairman of the committee
to petition the legislature for a charter. We fixed upon
a name, — ‘**‘ The Bank of North America,” — and se-
cured our charter, and a Mr. Sturdevant was selected
as our president, who agreed to take one hundred thou-
sand dollars, the amount to be paid down. He was
the most notorious smoker I ever knew. He got up
with a cigar in his mouth and went to bed in the same
way. It made me sick to be inhis counting-room. But
before our organization was completed we thought he
was not just the man to be president of a bank. But
-how to get rid of him was the question. He was large-
ly engaged in the coal business, and was much of his
time in Philadelphia.. Money was tight at the time,
and I did not believe he could take one hundred thous-
and dollars of stock and pay for it. So, after several
meetings, I was appointed a committee to write to him
, Pl
‘ . 4
, ae
,
‘
200 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,”
with a view of inducing him to give up the place, which —
we had determined to give him on account of the large
amount of stock he proposed to take. I did-so; and ©
wrote him, saying that the members who had been se-
lected as directors had decided to organize, and hoped
he would be ready to pay his one hundred thousand
dollars ; and intimated, also, that if he was not ready to
do so, to notify us that we might fix on some other man.
This brought the subject right home, and he, seeing the
drift of the letter, replied, that if we were determined
to push things, we might count him out. We did so,
and fixed on Hon. George Crockett to take his place.
The understanding among all was, that one of our firm
was to be one of the directors. I was quite indifferent
as to myself, as I did not care to be one, but preferred
that Mr. Rich should take the place.. When we per-
sonally talked over the matter, he insisted that I should
be the director, saying, that it more properly belonged ~
to me, as I had charge of the correspondence, and did
the bank business. So to meet-his oft-expressed wishes
I consented to do as he desired; and I thought he
meant what he said. The substituting of Crockett,
who took only ten thousand dollars, for Sturdevant,
who was to have taken one hundred thousand dollars,
left us some ninety thousand dollars to be provided for,
which was quite a tax. At a meeting just before we
organized, Mr. Rich being present, each one who had
been selected as director took ten thousand dollars
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 201
in addition to what he had taken, and Rich put down
ten thousand dollars to Snow & Rich, without my con-
sent ; and his name was put upon the list for director.
When the day came to meet and organize, I said to
him that the one who was to be director should attend
the meeting. He said I had better go. I asked him
if it was settled as to which of us should be director.
He said, ‘‘ No.” So to carry out his often-expressed
wish, I attended the meeting; and being the chairman
of the committee, it devolved on me to call the meet-
ing to order, and appoint a committee to collect and
count the votes for directors. And what was my sur-
prise when they handed me a vote with Isaac Rich’s
name printed on it. I stepped up to one and asked by
- what authority Mr. Rich’s name was on the ticket.. He
said by Mr. Rich’s request. This was a very unex-
pected blow to me, as it was an office from the start
which I did not desire; and to be sent to the meeting
to organize the bank under these circumstances was a
direct insult, and I so considered it, as well as others
present.
I got through with the organization as well as I
- could, and with a burdened heart at the game Rich
had played on me without any cause whatever, I went
to the store. Mr. Rich was at the wharf, and I went
immediatcly to find him, and plainly told him that he
had served me the meanest trick I ever had played on
me, coming as it did from my own partner; that I did
202 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
not understand why and for what cause he had done so.
_
I took the subscription from my pocket and showed
him the ten thousand dollars he had subseribed without
my consent, and erased it, and left him to his own reflec-
tions, and went home. But my nervous system had been
so wrought upon, I could not sleep during the night.
This act of double-dealing would keep before me, and
I kept asking myself why he did it, when I was frank
and open, and proferred all along that he should be one
of the directors if he desired. The motive he had for
so doing I never could understand.
Since then I have become more acquainted with men,
and have discovered that some men by double-dealing
carry their point; but I thank God I never was such
an enemy to any one; and though somewhat selfish, I
confess, I could never make others a stepping-stone to
my advancement. I told him the next morning I had
not slept any during the night on account of it. He
said but little. The day after, he came to me and said
that he had done wrong, and that he would resign and
I should be elected in his place. I said, no, I would
not accept. He had sought and obtained it in an
underhand manner, and I would not make his place
good. After some talk, he said that he would only
serve one year, and then he would make a place for me.
I made no reply. At the end of the year the directors
had become acquainted with the whole transaction, and
wrote me a long letter, acquitting themselves of all -
“THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 203
blame, and saying that the whole thing was owing to
Mr. Rich. And when the time came to elect a new
board, they asked Mr. Rich whose name they should
put on the ticket, and he was silent and would not say
which ; but as they understood how matters were, they
dropped him and put my name on the ticket, and for
this act Rich became the life-long enemy of those who
moved in the matter; and as soon as we dissolved, he
took his account to another bank, and thus ended the
bank affair. But to show that I had no feeling in the
matter, afterwards, when the Webster Bank was started,
I took ten thousand dollars of its stock, and offered to
use my influence to make him a director, but did not
succeed.
One reason why I was so anxious to dissolve with
Rich was, as he grew old he became very nervous, and
the elements that were in him naturally became more
and more strong, and it seemed at times as theugh noth-
_ ing was done right unless he was consulted, or had a
‘hand in the trade. And we had arrived at a point in
which either of us could live without much labor, if we
desired. What added to his fretfulness, no doubt, was
that he had lost all his children, and there was nothing
to take their place but business; and he was unhappy
unless his mind was occupied in it.
The business which we had built up fopather Was a
fortune to any one who was to'succeed us. We had a
young man in our employ who had been with us for
‘
204 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, P
several years. He was from the Cape, a relative of
mine by marriage. He was a very precocious young
man; rather in advance of his years. He was our out-
door clerk,.to buy and sell when we were engaged else-
where; and he became posted in all our movements,
and was naturally a business man, and bid fare to be a_
leading, representative man. He was about twenty-
two years old, just married, and had saved from his
salary about twelve hundred dollars, and was ambitious
to go into business. My partner had made up his mind
to take into his new concern all the old clerks, and
to allow them one-eighth each of the profits, taking
one-half for himself. |
But this young man thought he was worth more than
the in-door clerks; which in fact was the case. Mr. |
Rich could not well make any difference and have har-
mony with the others. But this man was just the one
he wanted, and was really worth more to him than any
other two men he had; for a good accountant can al-
ways be secured, but a good salesman is not so readily
obtained. The young man came to me for advice, and
I gave him such as I considered would be for his inter-
est. I said to him frequently (as I saw he wanted to
go into business, and that if he went with Mr. Rich he
could only have a share with the other clerks), that —
Mr. Rich had capital and position, and would take the
lead in the fish trade, and would be a hard customer
for competition, and if possible he had better go in
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. = tee DOE
with him. I had no motive in all this. I was not
looking to any interest of my own, therefore I advised
him as I did.
Just before this, and for some three months, my
partner had said to me frequently, that if we dissolved,
- I had better take the wharf and the ships, and he would
take the personal property and the money, as he should
require all of his share of the assets to carry on the
business. And believing he meant what he said, I was
acting accordingly, and was looking at matters, to see
what disposition I should make of the ships and wharf.
It looked reasonable to me that if he carried on the
same business he would require all the capital he had,
and therefore I was casting up in my mind how to man-
age the ships. We had several experienced captains,
and as usual, each one was expecting now and then a
new ship. And supposing Rich meant all he said, I
acted accordingly. But before we really got to the divi-
sion of our assets, the making up of the new co-part-
nership on Mr. Rich’s side came up, and things re-
mained for a time unsettled.
Though Mr. Rich was smart, as the world calls it, he
was a little /eaky ; and, notwithstanding all he said to me,
he was at work with one of our most popular masters,
securing him to his interest by the promise of building
him a new ship. Then, to secure the young man, as he
found he must have an out-door partner in the new
concern, he took him to his boarding-house one even-
18
206 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
ing, and failing to get his consent to be one of the new
firm on the same basis, he promised that he would allow }
him something out of his own share, though nothing
definite. He made also a dishonorable proposition to
him, as I thought. The young man, asa townsman of
mine, made me a confidant in all Mr. Rich’s proposi-
tions, and said to me the next morning: ‘* Well, what
do you suppose Mr. Rich has proposed tome?” I said,
‘“‘T do not know; what is it?” —** He says if I will
come in on the same basis as the others (for he could
not allow me any better pay than the others without —
making trouble), we could buy all the old assets of
Snow & Rich, at our own price, for there is no other
firm that could buy them, and it would make no differ-
ence to him, as he owned one half now, and the new
concern would get all the benefit.” I said, ‘‘Is that
so?” — ** Yes.” — ‘* Well, I am sorry,” I replied, ‘* that
a man with whom I have been in business for eleven
years, a member of the same church (this young man
was a member of the Congregational church, and soon
after one of its deacons), ‘‘ should make such.a proposi--
tion to one of our clerks ;” as it looked to me like a bid
to combine to rob me. When this came to me, I said,
‘¢ Well, if that is to be Mr. Rich’s course, I must be on
my guard.” I then said to the young man, that if he
failed to make satisfactory arrangements with the new
concern, and still adhered to his former desire, and
would like to go into business, I would loan him twen-
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 207
ty-five thousand dollars to start with. This produced
such a change in his mind, that Mr. Rich failed in all
his propositions to him.
During all this, I said nothing to my partner, though
with this disclosure I had it in my power to delay and
break up our dissolution. But I had made up my mind
to do it, and what I had seen and heard rather hastened
than protracted the work; as I did not care to be so
intimately connected with a man who was actuated by
such motives. I must say, however, that in my judg-
ment, Mr. Rich was always true and honest with me, in
the matter of dollars and cents, and I could trust him
as I think he did me, with untold gold, yet the course
he frequently pursued to carry a point, I never could
endorse, and I mention it here to guard young men
against such double- dealing ; as I believe, in the end, no
good will come of it; for as sure as the world moves,
it will all come to light sooner or later. I would noth-
ing extenuate nor aught set down in malice; but I
must speak the truth, for this will live when I am dead.
I reluctantly draw the veil aside, for after me there is
no one to do it; although, since his death, his best
and nearest friends have had satisfactory evidence of
the truth of what I say. It is also true, that while liv-
~ ing, with all his faults, I.saw elements in him that one
might do well to imitate.
Somehow I am inclined to believe what a man says,
‘and it makes an impression upon me, though at times I
/
208. FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
somewhat question all that is said. In this case I
thought Mr. Rich meant what he said; and it looked
reasonable that he needed all his funds to prosecute the
fish business, as it had become quite extensive, espe-
cially as we furnished capital and stock for two of the
largest houses in New York and Philadelphia.
The result of Mr. Rich’s trying to get the advantage
of me in the dissolution, especially in failing to secure
the young man, after all the unfair means he employed,
developed itself in after years, as this same man became
his greatest competitor in trade. What he never seemed
to forget in me was the setting up of this man; making
it, as he said, hard work for him; when in faet I tried
all I could to influence him to make some bargain with
Mr. Rich, up to the time of his unfair proposition, be-
fore related. And whenever he referred to it I merely
said, It is the result of your own serving.
At the time agreed upon, we took an inventory of all
our assets, bills due and stock on hand. We did this
more minutely than usual when taking account of stock,
though I was well satisfied that it was the purpose of
my partner to buy the stock on hand, yet he kept his
purpose in the back ground, and now the question was
to fix a price, either to sell or buy. I offered him five
hundred dollars bonus to name a price, and allow me
to buy or sell. This he refused to do, for the reason
that I had proposed a dissolution (which was true).
I must name a price without any consideration. I felt
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 209
all along that it would come to that, though it did not
indicate any smartness on his part, only my giving him
_ the choice, which was worth ten thousand dollars, or
even more. But I saw no other way to bring our busi-
ness to a close; and while I saw I was giving away a
fortune, which together, by industry, we’ had acquired,
having built up the greatest fish business in the country,
if not in the world, yet I thought it would be better for
me, as I sought not notoriety, but a quiet, peaceful life,
and that with my own experience for some thirty years,
something would turn up to my interest, as I had been
in just such a condition before; and having confidence
in myself, I would make the experiment. And after some
little time I named a price for each article of stock on
hand, and offered it to him at said price, giving him
twenty-four hours to accept or not. The condition was
cash ; and the party who sold out was to obligate him-
self not to engage in the same business for one year.
The next day he appeared undecided, and said his wife
thought he had better sell out to me. I knew this was
all for effect, and said, ‘‘ Will you let me take the stock
and business on the same lay I have offered it to you?”
He asked me if I would take it. I asked him to allow
me one hour to decide. He said, ‘‘ Can’t you decide ‘it
now?” Failing to get him committed,and seeing through
him, as I thought, I said, ‘‘ Yes, I will take it on the
same terms I proposed to you.” He stood a moment,
and then said he would accept my offer ; and so the mat-
4
ter was settled. I only mention this to show that if I
had not decided to take the stock, he would then have
named a lower price, and yet not allow me an equal
210 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
chance with him.
We then proceeded to divide our bills receivable-and
cash on hand. Asa matter of course, I had received —
fifty thousand dollars of cash assets as an offset to the
stock on hand, and the balance was equally divided, ex- _
cept our real estate and shipping. This was left for —
future adjustment and division. |
The wharf was managed by a man employed as wharf- —
inger, who collected the rents and wharfage and handed —
it to us, and it was kept on our books separate from our —
other business. Each ship was also kept separate, as
ta profit and loss. Some little time before our dissolu- —
tion, City Wharf was sold at auction and purchased by
Josiah Quincy, who laid out the part bounded by Com-
mercial Street into store lots, and advertised to sell —
them at auction. I proposed to Mr. Rich to buy one
of the lots, but he seemed very indifferent about it; so
much so that I'thought he would not buy at all. But
what was my surprise, at the auction, when one of the —
lots (the very one on which our old store stood) was
knocked off to Isaac Rich, who very soon commenced
building the store that now stands on said lot, and into
which he moved his business soon after our dissolution,
and in which he remained until his death in 1872.
As Constitution Wharf was not central for a commis-
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 211
sion business, which I proposed to follow, I hired a
counting-room in an adjoining store to his, at the head
of City Wharf, and put out my old sign, — ‘‘ David
Snow & Co., Commission Merchants,” — and he put up
a new sign, — ‘‘ Isaac Rich & Co.” ‘The firm consisted
of Isaac Rich and three or four of our clerks, with Dana,
a son-in-law of Rich. A pretty strong concern as to
numbers. Mr. Rich was the only real business man
in the firm, the others being mainly in-door men, and
good accountants, but with little or no practical knowl-
edge of buying and selling goods. But the prestige of
Snow & Rich followed the new concern, and they were
successful.
There was one little circumstance which took place
soon after we had dissolved, rather laughable to me.
We had bought several cargoes of number three mack-
erel. This was in June, 1854, and they were shipped
to Philadelphia before we dissolved. Mr. Rich was
‘very anxious that I should let the new concern take the
- shipment at cost; and, as he urged it so hard, I at last
. consented. These mackerel were not insured. As we
had been large shippers to all the Southern ports, we
hardly ever covered our shipments, but stood our own
insurance. A few days after this transaction, Mr. Rich
came in and said to me, ‘‘ Those mackerel are ashore
on Cape May, and there is no insurance.” As this was
the first shipment of the new concern, he felt rather
down about it, as he thought it indicated bad luck, and
— ¥ >
212 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY} OR,
I thought so too; as we, for eleven years, had been
shipping to Philadelphia, and had never lost.a dollar.
Having got thus far in our division, I told Mr. Rich
I thought we had better divide the real estate and the —
ships. This he seemed rather disinclined to do, as he
could not bear to lose his interest in the ships and the
wharf. At several interviews, he stated that if we di-
vided I must take the wharf, as that was valued at two
hundred thousand dollars, and the ships at about one
hundred thousand. He frequently said, that if we divid-
ed, he preferred to take the ships, as they were of less
value than the wharf, and that I had better take the
wharf, which he offered to sell me for two hundred and
twenty thousand dollars. After considerable talk, and
- sounding each other as business men are apt to do, and
failing to agree on the valuation, I said to him one day,
that I would give him one thousand dollars to name a
price at which he would buy or sell, which he declined.
I then offered to give him two thousand dollars, This
he also declined. I then asked him if he would allow
the same tome. He said no. I asked if he would al-
low me one thousand dollars. He said no. ‘** Well,”
I said, ‘‘I do not see how we can divide, if you will
not do either.” The man, with all his talents for trade,
_ which I always admitted, when a question like the above
was presented, involving three hundred thousand dollars
of property, was actually afraid of me, though he was
ambitious that the public should consider him the smart-
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 213
er of the two. I then said, ‘*‘ What shall we do?” (The
fact was, he thought if we did not divide he could con-
trol the whole.) I was determined to divide in some
way, though I had, as in previous cases, the laboring
oar. After some more talk, he said, if I would name
a price without any consideration, he would accept one
or the other, though he did not want the wharf. There
was a large amount of property to divide, and the choice
was worth five thousand dollars, and still I was put in
a position that, unless I named a price, it must remain
as heretofore, a joint property. I had made up my
mind that in our dissolution I might lose ten thousand
dollars, and that Mr. Rich might get that advantage of
me; andso it proved. I finally named a price, as I
had on the stock, supposing he meant what he had said,
that he preferred the navigation to the wharf, as he
wanted the money in his business. But to my surprise,
after I had named a price for the wharf, — two hundred
‘and twenty thousand dollars, the price he proposed to
sell it to me for, —he said, ‘* Well, I will take the
wharf.” This somewhat changed my plans, asI thought .
I should not do much, if any, active business, for a
year at least, and I judged the wharf might furnish me
something to look after, and that I might get vessels to
load and unload, ete. But no; I was compelled to
take the shipping. Thus my whole plans were frustrat-
ed, and I had to work up something else. All this,
however, was only verbal, and of no binding force any
114 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY}; OR,
further than I was willing to consummate it; and,
though he had misled me, yet I would not back down. —
This was a very large amount of property, some three
hundred thousand dollars, and I must name a price
for no consideration, and he to have his choice. I
would gladly have given five thousand dollars for the
choice. The secret of all this was, Enoch Train, one
of our Boston merchants, who was running a line of
ships to Liverpool, had been talking of buying this
wharf, and it happened that on the very day that I
named a price, Mr. Rich saw him, and he offered him
the same price I had named. Here was a fine chance
for him, though after all, he did not seem to like the
idea of selling out the wharf. The purchase, at the first,
was suggested by me, and it was bought mainly through
my influence. It cost one hundred and seventy thous-
and dollars, and we had spent some twenty thousand
in building, etc. After he agreed to take the wharf,
he thought he was smart, and had secured the best of
the trade. He reported among our acquaintances, that
he had put it to Snow this time. Snow meant to have
the wharf, but he had got the ships on to him, and he
had taken the wharf and sold it at cost, and was now
all sold out. This he considered smart.
In dividing this property, it was understood that the
one who sold the navigation, sold with it all his right
and good will, and was not to interfere with the other.
Soon after we had passed the bill of sale, and I was
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 215
busy in making arrangements with the captains and
owners to manage it as heretofore, Mr. Rich and his
partners set themselves to work to secure the manage-
ment of the ships, and thus throw me out of the com-
mission received for so doing, as we had always done.
Snow & Rich, with the captains, owned, all the way
from one-fourth to one-half of each ship. The plan
was, to secure the captains, under the promise of build-
ing them new ships. In this way he took two of our
best masters, and built them new ships; and to keep
the balance; [had to do the same. I then built the ships
«¢ Addie Snow,” one thousand tons; ‘‘ Nauset,” one
thousand tons; ‘‘ Astenon,” twelve hundred tons; and
<‘Reporter,” fonrteen hundred tons. He built the
«¢ Wellfleet,” and ‘* Wilbur Fisk,” of one thousand tons
each, and the ‘‘ Enoch Train,” sixteen hundred tons.
Then commenced a lively competition in navigation,
but in‘a fair competition I came out ahead. The only
reason he assigned for not taking the ships in lieu of the
wharf was, that I had prized them too high, which was
only an excuse for acting one way and talking another.
As proof that I did not do so, I sold one of the ships
which I prized at thirty-two thousand dollars, on her
way from Liverpool to Boston, for thirty-four thousand
dollars. The first voyage after our division, she had
earned me over twelve thousand dollars clear of ex-
pense. This was the first ship we built, seven hundred
and fifty tons, called the ‘: Chasca.” I owned one-half
216 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
of her, and he tried every possible way to get the man-
agement of this ship after he had sold me his interest
and good will, but did not succeed. The old captain,
who owned a controlling interest, asked Mr. Rich if he
thought he would do so mean an act, after he had sold
out to me, as to give him the control of the ship.
It so happened that the trade opened up and gave
great employment to ships, and ship property advanced
twenty per cent. in the first year after 1 bought out the
navigation. He then tried to buy back one or more at
cost, but I was clear of him and intended to stand clear
of'all such entanglements in the future. I never inter-
fered with him. One day he came to me and said,
‘¢ Snow, this is always my luck.” I made no reply, but»
felt thankful that I was under no obligations to him in
any way. But it really troubled him to think that after
all, I had really got the advantage in the trade.
He took a mortgage on the wharf for some ten years,
at six per cent., while the interest I had in ships paid
thirty per cent. Really, the position and the trade
which Snow & Rich had built up, during their co-part-
nership, was a fortune to any one with capacity to take
it up and carry it on; as the business, with good man-
agement, would leave a net profit of over fifty thousand
dollars per year. All this I gave up to my old partner,
without one dollar’s compensation. I had come fully
to this conclusion, that I had got to depend on my own
business capacity for success, and my past experience
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 217
had convinced me that I was fully competent for the
task.
‘There was no written agreement between us in all this
business of dissolution, and I should have been justified
had I refused to consummate the trade. But it was my
purpose and desire to stand by my word, even though
it worked. against my temporal interests, as it really did
for a time in this case; knowing that in the end such a
course would turn to my interest.
Fhus ended my co-partnership with Isaac Rich. I
have said what I have with no malice against my old
partner, but that the dommunity may understand the
inside workings of men who secure a fair name, and are
known for high moral worth. There is no man living
who knew Mr. Rich as well as I, and no one so well
prepared to give a true description of his character.
With all his defects he had excellent traits of. character
which I never failed to admire and appreciate.
19
CHAPTER XI.
SAILING MY OWN ORAFT.
‘*Lapor is life! —’ Tis the still water faileth;
Idleness ever despaireth, bewaileth;
Keep the watch wound, or the dark rust assaileth.
Labor is rest— from the sorrows that greet us:
Rest from all petty vexations that meet us,
Rest from sin-promptings that ever entreat us,
Rest from world-syrens that lure us to ill.”
— Mrs. Osgood.
OME little time before I dissolved with Mr. Rich,
there being but one M. E. Church in Charlestown,
'
f
and even in that there were elements which did not ~
work harmoniously, it seemed to me, as well as to
others, that we must have another church. Some nine
of us met at my house and formed a new society, and
hired the Town Hall for a time, and then a hall near
by. The Conference, after a while, sent us Rev. Mr.
Mann, formerly from N. H. Conference, and we gath-
ered in quite a congregation during the first year. But
we found after a while, that we must have a church of
our own. Aside from myself, the wealth of the entire
218
)
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 219
church did not exceed thirty thousand dollars. A
church would cost us twenty thousand dollars, and
where the money was coming from was a serious ques-
tion. We started a subscription, but could not raise
over six thousand dollars, three thousand of which I
gave. ‘This did not have a very hopeful look; but still
we must have a church or give up the enterprise. The
laboring oar fell on me. My partner gave me three
hundred dollars, and this was all we could raise outside
of ourselves. I had made up my mind to give one-tenth
of all I was worth towards the enterprise. During the
year we gathered a congregation of two hundred. I
gave some twelve thousand dollars towards the building
of the church. In the first place, I bought some seven
thousand feet of land on the corner of High and Con-
cord Streets, for which I paid one dollar per foot. We
made a contract with one of the members, by the name
of Clark, to build the church, which, when done, we
named the Union M. E. Church, as we proposed to
live in peace. I struck the first blow with the pick, in
breaking ground. It was in the month of August,
1850. We had our trials, as is ordinarily the case, in
-church building, but we were enabled to get into the
vestry in December, and for a year it was a Bethesda to
-many souls. This church cost us seventeen thousand
dollars. More than one-half came from me. I told my
mother afterwards that I had built a temple or house to
worship God in, and it had taken one-tenth of all my
uw
220 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
earthly goods, and I thonght it might be said that my
religion was not in word only ; and the old lady seemed
to rejoice that she had such a son, the youngest of her
family, that had. it in his heart to do so much for the
church, a monument that would live after he was dead.
Soon after this I bought a lot at Mount Auburn,
where lie two of our children. A monument marks
the spot, and their names are on it.
Eastham Camp-Meeting was a favorite spot to me,
which I visited every August, during the time it was
held there, some twenty years. Father Taylor used to
call it the half-way-house to glory, and so it was to
many. The going and coming was at times attended
with inconvenience and danger. Notwithstanding all
this, there was no place in New England for a camp-
mecting like old Cape Cod. For salt water bathing it
never had its equal. Newport and Martha’s Vineyard
are not to be compared with it. On the Bay side the
water ebbs out-and leaves the flats (which are all white
sand) some half a mile, and by noon the sun has warm-
ed the flats so that the cold chill is taken off, and one
can wade in as deep as he pleases without danger of
any under-tow or deep water. At one time I and a
brother sat on the beach-as the vessels and steamers
came up loaded with people. It was a golden sunset.
The landing in boats on their arrival formed a pano-
rama such as I neyer saw before nor since. It was wor-
thy the pen of the poet or pencil of the painter. I did
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 221
undertake it, and published it in ‘‘ Zion’s Herald,” but it
came far short of the reality. At one time, on our return
in one of the large steamers, with some six hundred pas-
sengers ou board, it blew a gale from the north-east,
and when half way across the bay the sea broke across
her deck and she rolled and tumbled about like an egg,
and such crying and vomiting was never seen before.
Some were praying, expecting every moment to sink.
It was a terrible sight to witness, and all expected to
find a watery grave. But finally she was headed for
Provincetown, where she arrived safely ; and the people ©
showed us no little kindness, took us into their houses,
and opened the vestry of the church, and accommodat-
ed us as_ best they could; an event some have
never forgotten and never will, it being a very narrow
escape from death. After this, some would never ven-
ture en board a steamer for Eastham, but went by land.
Soon after, landing being attended with so much incon-
venience, and the going and coming so dangerous, East-
ham was given up and the Yarmouth Camp-meeting
substituted, as the railroad landed its passengers at
the camp-ground, avoiding all this trouble and danger
of going to Eastham by water. ‘But now, in 1874, the
railroad extends to Eastham, and some have thought of
reinstating the old Eastham Camp-meeting ; but it has
never been done, and it looks at present as if it never
would be done.
Soon after the Cape people had decided on Yarmouth
222 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
for their camp-meeting, the Boston and Lynn people
decided on Hamilton, and now both are better sustained
than was old Eastham, though there are a great many
who cannot forget the many good times enjoyed at old
Eastham,
By a mere accident I attended the sale of a house on
Tremont Street, without any idea of buying. I was in-
vited to the sale by a friend of mine who expressed to
me his intention of buying it, as it was the best location
for a dwelling-house in Boston. It hung for some time
at twenty-four thousand nine hundred and fifty dollars,
and the auctioneer pressed very hard for another bid,
and looking at me, said, ‘‘ Give me fifty more.” I did
so, and off it went to ‘‘ David Snow.” I felt alittle sick
of my purchase, and at once found the man who had
bid twenty-four thousand nine hundred: and fifty, and
offered it to him at his bid, being willing to lose: fifty
dollars. But he did not want it; and it came out that
he was only a by-bidder. Here I was with a house on
my shoulders which I did not want. Failing to sell or
to rent it (for it was very much out of repair), I deter-
mined to remodel it; and got an estimate from a master
mechanic, who said it would cost six thousand dollars.
But before it was finished it cost me eleven thousand. I
made it my residence, and have remained there eversince ;
and now I could sell it for seventy thousand dollars.
So that instead of its being a poor trade, it has turned
out to be a good one, as Tremont Street, contrary to the
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 223
judgment of every resident, has become a business
street. x
Owning a very fine estate in Charlestown, worth some
thirty-four thousand dollars, just opposite the Monu-
ment, at the head of Cordis Street, I sold one-half of it
. to Deacon Shipley (a great mistake) for nine thousand
five hundred dollars, which was sold soon after by his
widow for fourteen thousand.
Soon after my partnership dissolution I bought two
lots of land of Josiah Quincy, sen., on what was called the
Dock, between Long and City Wharves, Nos. 1 and 4,
on which I built four brick stores, and called them Snow’s
Block, which I leased for four thousand dollars per an-
num for five years. This I thought a good purchase.
One of these stores was opposite the store I leased and
occupied when I first came to Boston in 1833. These
stores cost me eighty-six thousand dollars. I sold No.
4, in 1871, at about cost, as property did not seem to
Increase much in that locality. There have been great
changes in real estate. Some localities have increased
one hundred per cent., while some, especially at the
North End, are much the same as thirty years ago.
While Snow & Rich owned Constitution Wharf, we
built a brick store at the westerly part, on Commercial
Street. On this I built a small tower, and put up an
emblem of our business in the shape of a mackerel,
which stands there to-day, indicating which way the
wind blows. This store stands on the very spot where
224 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
-_
the old Constitution was built, and in digging for a
foundation we dug up some of the timbers on whieh she
was launched, and from which we made some dozen or
more canes, and the bowsprit of one of our ships. Her
bowsprit reached across Commercial Street. It was a
great time when she was launched, as there never had
been so large a ship built before in New England.
The ship ‘‘ Reporter,” which I built, excited consid-
erable notoriety among the ship-owners, and while
loading at Constitution Wharf, I invited several of my
friends and gave them a collation, and among the num-
ber was Father Taylor and wife, who were much pleased
with the ship, and so were others. There were but few,
if any, her equal. During the collation Father Taylor
was called on for a speech. He was one of that class
of men who could load and fire at the same time. In
opening, referring to me, he said: ‘* When I first saw
him he was rolling over a barrel of flour; after that he
was holding up a codfish by the tail, and now I sup-
pose he will not be satisfied till he runs his jib-boom
into the Rothschild’s banking-house.” Father Taylor
was not only a generous but a very eccentric and sar-
castic man. At times he could say the most cutting
things ever heard, and then the most witty, genial and
loving ; so that one could hardly help loving him. Said
one of the prominent members of the Bethel, over which
he was pastor: ‘‘ Father Taylor can throw a lance and
hit a man in the very quick of his feelings, and when he
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 225
finds that he has hurt him, will so manipulate the wound,
and draw a plaster over it, that very soon the man feels
that he has not been hurt at all.” But few men pos-
sessed these opposite traits of character, and no man
could excel him in an impromptu speech. Once at
Eastham Camp-meeting, some one asked a friend of his,
where Father Taylor was. He replied, ‘‘ Out in the
woods studying his sermon” (as he was to preach).
‘ Well, if that is so, he will make a failure,” said the
man. But a great man is gone. He had his weak-
nesses, and few could fail to seethem. I was intimate
with him for thirty years, and though he at times said
very severe things to friend and foe, yet I loved him.
He performed the duties of his calling in and out of the
church ; possessed little or no executive ability, yet in
church, for many years, he was a power for good, and
had he possessed early training, and a disciplined mind,
he would have had but few if any equals. He had a
tranquil and peaceful death, and sleeps now with many
who have gone before to the promised land.
The vessel before named was my very beau ideal of a
freighting ship. She was a fine sailor, and carried a
good cargo. The first year she made two trips to New
Orleans and Liverpool, and back to Boston, having
stock worth ninety-six thousand dollars. The net profit,
after deducting disbursements, was fifty thousand dol-
lars. The second year she only paid expenses, and I -
sold her to W. F. Weld & Co. (one of our largest
226' . FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
ship-owners in Boston), on her way from ni cela to.
Boston, for seventy-six thousand dollars.
After my dissolution with Mr. Rich, being compelled
to go into navigation as a business, contrary to my pre-
vious plans, I made naval architecture my study, and
soon acquired the reputation of knowing as much or
more about it than.any other merchant in Boston. And
here I will say, I never in my life really embarked in
any business, but I made it a success. I gave it all my
best thought, and kept it constantly before me, as I be-
a
‘
;
{
lieved that success would surely follow a man who
would stick to his business, and allow no grass to grow ~
under his feet. The reason why so many fail in busi-
ness, is a want of studious industry and interest in it.
‘Business will not run itself, and if one’s pleasure comes
in and divides his attention, and he gives but half to
trade, you may write failure on his sign; for such a re-
sult is only a question of time. I was acquainted with
a Boston merchant who used to leave his store in the
care of his clerks, and go home at two o’clock. I said
to him one day, ‘‘ How do you expect to prosper and
give so much of your time to pleasure?” ‘* Oh,” he
replied, ‘‘ there are such fine rides in Brookline” (where
“he lived), ‘*I must enjoy them.” The result was, he
never had much suceess, though he was naturally a
good business man. He was just able to keep his head
above water. His son, who succeeded him, possessing
more or less of his father’s business characteristics, soon
failed.
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 207
I bought the ship ‘‘ South Shore,” of one thousand
tons. Having fairly embarked in navigation, I took
great pride in building the best ships afloat. Iam sat-
isfied, from long experience, that many fatal mistakes’
- are made in youth. ‘The passions and appetites are al-
lowed to rule us, until, in many instances, they can
never be corrected. Early religious training does very
much in forming a good character, and really, ‘‘ The
fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” To be
truthful in all things-is the foundation of success; and
he who designedly lays a trap for his neighbor is quite
sure to be caught in it himself. I always felt a sense
of gratitude to my mother for my early religious train-
ing, though I thought but little of it then; yet impres-
sions were made on my heart which I never forgot. 4
In 1856 there was a glorious revival of religion in
Charlestown, and some eighty were converted and join- -
ed the M. E. Church, in which I took great interest ;
having given to the erection of the church some twelve
thousand dollars, —it costing about seventeen thous-
and. Iwas now a resident of Boston, though I held
my relation in the Union M. E. Church, Charlestown.
There was, about this time, a union prayer-meeting
opened in Spring Lane, in a chapel belonging to the
Old South Church, which I attended regularly. It was
known as the “‘ Old South Prayer-meeting,” and resulted
in much good. A record of these meetings has been
published, which is full of the blessed results attending
them.
228 FROM POVERTY TO PLEXTY; OR,
I am fully persuaded, as I look over my past life,
that in this country, as every enterprise is open to com-
petition, there is no such word as fail to a young man
with ordinary capacity, who will be honest, virtuous, ~
economical and persevering. f
May 22, the whole country was thrown into great
excitement. News reached Boston, just at night,
that a senator from South Carolina, by the name of
Brooks, had felled Mr. Sumner to the floor of the
Senate, by a violent blow with a cane, and that he was
senseless. The people were greatly excited. Tremont
Temple was thrown open and soon filled with the citi-
. zens of Boston, on account of this brutal assault for
words spoken in debate. Following this was an indig-
nation meeting in Faneuil Hall, Governor Washburn
presiding. All parties, without distinction, took part,
’
€
Y
denouncing the act as mean and cowardly. Thatwasa _
blow from the South, aimed at the liberties of all the
North. Spirited resolutions were unanimously passed,
in. condemnation of the barbarous act. The whole
North was aroused, and it semed to be a settled con-
viction that it was either slavery or liberty for us all;
and I said, ‘‘God grant that the latter may prevail.”
There were a great many pro-slavery men in the North,
whose interests inclined them to sympathise with the
South. A great many Northern men had gone South
and married and become slave-owners. The year 1856
will always be memorable in our country. It was then
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 229
settled at*the ballot-box that slavery must die. There
was then, and for some time after, no other question
before the people but slavery or free territory.. At our
presidential election the candidates were Fremont and
Buchanan. All the free states except Pennsylvania
and New Jersey, which were Democratic, went for Fre-
mont; and, though the Republicans lost the election,
they gave a great check to the pro-slavery feeling of the
North.
Rev. W. S. Studley delivered a lécture in Tremont
Temple, at which I presided, on ‘‘ The rights and du-
ties of American citizens in the present exigencies of
public affairs.” The Temple was crowded. :
The State of Kansas was mainly settled by people
from New England, and at this time was in a high state
of political excitement on account of slavery. It was
carrying the war into the enemy’s camp, and at times,
came near breaking out into a civil war, as one of the
judges of the Supreme Conrt had declared that the
black man had no rights which the white man was bound
to respect.
Shipping became very dull, and it was thought that
if we had war with England, it would become worth-
less. The war was then raging between Russia and
Turkey; France and England siding with the latter.
Russia was no doubt anxious to get Constantinople, the
key to the Black Sea, an outlet for her fleets. This
France and England did not like, so they combined
20
230 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
their whole strength against Russia. June 15, I wrote:
«‘ Business duli, more or less fighting in Kansas, dif-
ficulties with England. It looks dark for our coun-
try, and for the liberty of the poor slave, but it must.
come sooner or later.” I visited Saratoga this summer
with my wife and daughter; spent a week or so, and
heard Dr. Dearborne preach a very practical sermon.
Started for home via Lake St. George. The travel
from Saratoga to the Lake was partly by stage, over very
uneven roads. On Monday following, took a steamer
for Lake Champlain. This was a delightful ride, or
sail. The scenery was sublime, the water very trans-
parent and clear, with a sandy bottom. We stopped at
Fort Ticonderoga, and other places of Revolutionary
notoriety. This Fort was taken of the English by Ethan
Allen and his Vermont company, who entered it by a sub-
terranean passage leading from a well into the Fort. A
demand was made of the captain to surrender, who
asked, ‘*To whom?” The reply was, **To God Al-
mighty and the Continental Congress.” (It seems that
there was a line of forts from Canada, running south-
westerly to the Mississippi, built by the French.) It
is said of Allen that he had an only daughter who was
sick, and the physician thought she could not recover.
Her mother was a Christian, and her father an infidel.
She asked her father what religion she had better em-
brace. He said, ‘* Your mother’s.” This was honest,
and his daughter acted under his advice, and embraced
her mother’s religion.
:
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 231
Before we reached Lake Champlain next day we
heard of the destruction of the steamer, on her return
trip, by fire. We came over Lake St. George in the
steamer, and it sent a thrill of sadness over us all
to think how near we came to,death by being burnt.
This reminded me that dangers stand thick all around,
and one must be prepared at any moment to change
worlds. On the American side, after resting awhile
at Burlington, we took the cars for Boston, by the
Vermont Central. On our way, there came up a vio-
lent shower, causing a land-slide, covering the track.
Yankee-like, I got out to see it, and the progress that
was made to remove it, and looking round, I saw the
train backing down to the hotel four miles below.
Night coming on, I had to work my passage down
on a working-car, by turning a crank. My folks were
very glad to see me, not knowing what had become of
me. The next day we arrived home all right.
In August I visited again that loved spot to many,
Millennial Grove Camp-meeting, at Eastham, and during
the meeting some fifty souls passed from death unto life.
Many who loved old Eastham have finished their course
and gone home to glory. During the meeting, Rev.
John Linsey preached a very powerful sermon on the
Judgment. During its delivery it thundered and light-
ened very powerfully. Afterwards some one asked
him for the manuscript for publication. His answer
was, that it could not be done unless they could publish
232 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY} OR,
the thunder and lightning with it. There were some
in the Union M. E. Church tent, from Charlestown, and
such was the effect of the meeting upon the tent’s com-
pany arter they returned home, that a blessed work of
God continued, until some eighty souls were sayed.
In Boston the work of revival seemed to be on the
increase. An evangelist by the name of Day, who
came from Ohio, was engaged by the different denom-
inations, and his labors were productive of great good,
and a revival spirit seemed to prevail over all New
England. He was avery earnest, goodman. Such was
the interest in religion that Park-Street Church employ- -
ed Prof. Finney, from Oberlin College, a man of great
power (formerly a lawyer) and full of the Holy Ghost,
and the most searching preacher I ever heard. He ex-
posed every sinful indulgence so that one might see
himself, if he so desired. He tore off the covering of
every idol of whatever sort. He produced a great ef-
fect among the Congregationalists, of which church he
was a member.
My business for 1856 closed up without any special
interest. It was now mainly in shipping. I owned
two stores on City Wharf, worth about one hun-
dred thousand dollars, and my dwelling house, No.
160 Tremont Street, worth forty thousand. My com-
missions and profits were fully equal to -my expenses.
I was not very ambitious to make money to be rich,
or to enlarge my business to reach that end. I was
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 233
rather inclined to take things easy, having given some
thirty years of the best of my life and my best efforts
to lay up against a rainy day. The excitement and
care usually accompanying a business life, was with me
‘settling down into a more quiet frame of mind. I had
nearly or quite settled up with my old partner, and had
learned something more of poor, weak human nature, in
the contest for success in business, in addition to what
‘I already knew of the world. But I was rather inclined
to stop and look on awhile and see more.
I had fixed a place in business for my oldest son, with
a Mr. Darling, in the cotton trade, furnishing them
twenty-five thousand dollars as capital. This I pur-
posed to give him if he was successful. I also made
a place for my youngest son with F. Snow, in the fish
_ trade, where I furnished forty thousand dollars, hoping
that with this aid they might take hold of business and
be successful, and that it might prove a stimulus to
them; yet in this I was disappointed. Jam more and
more convinced that unless a young man puts his heart
into his business he will not succeed. If anything else
is allowed to come in between him and his business he
may as well give up first as last, for business, like a
ship, will never make a voyage, however good a sailor
she may be, unless some one on board has command,
who is interested in the voyage and watches every turn
of wind and weather.
In 1857 I became a member of the Wesleyan Asso-
234 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
ciation, for the publication of ‘‘ Zion’s Herald.” This
Association was incorporated, and held real estate to
the amount of twenty thousand dollars; the main object
being, at some future time, to own a building, where it
might carry on its business. It is composed of twenty
members, all of whom are members of the M. E. Church.
I attended, during the Spring of 1857, a missionary
meeting at Bromfield-Street Church, where Bishop Janes
preached one of his most powerful sermons on the power
of divine love as the ouly motive power to bring men
to Christ. Many were moved even to tears.
At the morning prayer-meetings, in the Old South
Chapel, we had precious times. Prof. Finney, when
present at one time, made mention of some powerful re- -
vivals under his ministry, and tears flowed from many
eyes. He mentioned a circumstance that took place in
the western part of New-York State, after he had a
license to preach. It was at a school-house, in rather a
thinly peopled place. On his arrival, he found the
house full of people, the most uncouth and rough-look-
ing he had ever seen: some in shirt-sleeves, and hats on,
and dressed in all manner of costumes, looking rather
savagé withal. Nothing daunted, he took for his text
what the angel said to Lot: ‘*‘ Up! get thee out of this
place; for God will destroy it!” He was an entire
stranger, never there before, and knew nothing about
the place or the people, except that some one told him
that there was one man in the place, by the name of
:
!
1
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 235
Lot, who was a Christian. But as soon as he opened
the meeting he felt that God was with him in mighty
power. He had but just commenced his sermon,
when he noticed that they all looked at him very
fiercely, as though they would do him violeace. He
proceeded in a very calm and pleasant way, telling
them how God sent his angel to warn Lot of his danger ;
when suddenly, like fire, the Holy Spirit came down in
avery wonderful manner. Some fell down, and all be-
gan to cry for mercy. So great was the feeling that he
had to stop preaching and call on the deacon to pray. He
did so, in a very loud voice, but could not get their at-
tention. Mr. Finney knelt by the side of one, and whis-
pered in his ear, ‘‘ Look to Jesus!” and he soon found
peace, and became more quiet ; and then to another, and
so on, until he had spoken to eight or ten; and before he
finished his sermon, nearly all in the room found peace.
Afterwards he found out why they looked so fiercely at
him on his reading his text. The place was so very
wicked that the people called it Sodom, and the only
Christian in the place was called Lot, and they all
thought he took his text as he did, knowing all their
circumstances, when in fact he knew nothing of them.
But the spirit of God seemed to lead him to preach as
he did, and for the life of him he could not at the time
refer to the chapter from which he took his text.
Rey. Prof. Finney left Boston early in the Summer,
for Ohio. His preaching produced a wide-spread influ-
236 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
ence for good, and it was thought that nearly one thous-
and souls were saved. Park-Street Church paid him
one thousand dollars, and his wife five hundred. She
was a good woman, and was indeed a helpmeet to him, —
though they were both anti-woman’s rights in their re-
ligious views, and thought the time had not eome for
women to take part in social meetings, and consequent-
ly advocated women’s meetings led by women.
The winter of 1857 was the coldest winter known for —
years. Boston harbor was completely frozen up, and
the English steamers had to be cut out, after several
days’ detention, the glass ranging from ten to twenty-
five degrees below zero. The harbor was at times all
alive with people skating and promenading on the ice.
I went, with others, down on the ice, and near the Cas-
tle, went on board a steamer frozen in. The ice was
so thick that people went from Chelsea to East Boston ;
and though the winter was one of great severity, yet
the Spring opened with the singing of birds, mild and ~
gentle.
In the Summer of 1858, provisions were very high,
and business of all kinds very dull, especially in ship-
ping, in which I was mostly engaged. As a sample, I
will state, that flour was ten dollars, corn one dollar and
fifteen cents, potatoes one dollar and twenty cents, su-
gar from twelve to fifteen cents, molasses: sixty-five
cents, and other things in proportion; and still wages
were low, which made it very hard for poor people ;
ee
THE ‘LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 258
and all this while the land produced bountifully for
both man and beast. But the fact was people neglect-
ed the farm and flocked to the city, and entered into
speculation. There could never be a greater mistake
than for men to neglect industrial pursuits for specula-
tion, as it detracts from their moral character and leads,
ordinarily, to poverty and misery.
I suffered much during the summer with a pain in
my breast. I wore an India-rubber jacket, which caused
a constant perspiration, and resulted in the breaking out
of boils all over my body, nearly one hundred at a time.
I took remedies which gave me an appetite and conse-
quently strength, and I soon recovered my wonted
health. I began to feel less and less anxiety about busi-
ness, and gave more time to the cultivation of my inner
life. But my old partner went deeper and deeper into
trade. Heaven, to me, is looming up with increased
attractions, while the world has far less attractions.
About this time quite a large sale of real estate took
place between Central and Long Wharves. Some twen-
ty store lots, which are now built on and called State-
Street Block, sold for from eighteen dollars per foot
down to five dollars and fifty cents. I felt somewhat like
buying, but could not get my courage up to the price.
I was soon after satisfied I was right in not buying.
The rides around Boston are unequalled. I frequent-
ly enjoy them. The roads are fine, the country resi-
dences are beautiful, and the foliage and flowers make
238 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
the very atmosphere fragrant. There is no place in this
country, if in the world, more attractive than the sub-
urbs of Boston. Boston merchants take great prige in
their country residences. No pains nor expense are
spared to make these suburbs attractive; and from our
country highlands may be seen our beautiful harbor, stud-
ded with beautiful islands, and all kinds of crafts, from the
sail-boat to the magnificent ship; the latter coming and
going to and from foreign ports, loaded with the wealth
of the Indies. Corey’s Hill, in Brookline, stands among
them most grand and prominent to-day.
Our ship, ‘‘ South Shore,” was (June 6th) at Caleutta.
She took out some six missionaries for the Congrega-
tionalist Society, and landed them at Madras. One of
the missionaries, a young man who was married just
before he left, entered into the missionary work, it is
feared, more for employment than any heart to convert
the heathen. A gentleman, by the name of Tyler, went
out in the ship with a small steam-engine, for the pur-
pose of running on one of the rivers; and this young
missionary made a proposition to join him in the enter-
prise, and would have done so had Tyler guaranteed
him a salary equal to what he was to receive from the
Missionary Board. He wrote home finding fault with
the ‘stores, as though he expected to have, on a sea-
voyage, as fresh provisions daily as if he were boarding
at a hotel. We satisfied the Board that we had pro-
vided the ship with a liberal outfit, and there the matter
ended so far as the ship was concerned.
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 239
About this time Gen. Scott was invited to visit
Charlestown, at the erection of a statue for Gen. War-
ren, one of the Revolutionary heroes who fell on Bun-
ker Hill while defending it. The breastworks which
were then constructed, now show traces of the spot
where the battle was fought. A building was erected
on the north side of the monument to protect it from
the weather.
Jan. 20, 1857, I attended a prayer-meeting at Brother
Mason’s, in the Black Sea, so called, on account of
its wickedness. There had been some remarkable con-
versions among the most abandoned men and women
the world ever saw. ‘* Father Mason,” as he was call-
ed, held daily meetings in this place the remainder of
his earthly life. A man was converted who had been a
drunkard from his youth. He contracted the habit from
his father who was a drunkard before him, and when
his son was sent for liquor he used to drink a little on
his way home. He was not allowed any time to attend
school, and was not only ignorant but drunk nearly all
the time. His wife and children were poorly clad, as
he spent most of his earnings for drink. He would lay
in a stock of liquor on Saturday and keep drunk on
Sunday. At one time, when nearly drunk, a son ten
years old went to the Sunday-School; his father asked
_ where he had been, and when informed that he had been
to the Sunday-School, he said he would whip him if he
went there again. The boy said, ‘‘ Oh, father! don’t
240 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
whip me ; I have been to Father Mason’s Sunday-School,
and the teacher has been telling me about Jesus, and it —
makes me so happy.” This touched a tender chord in
the father’s heart, and he listened to the boy, who said, —
‘* Father, won’t you go with me next time?” - The result
was, the poor drunkard was converted ; friends gathered
around him, and his home soon became a bethel, filled —
with all the comforts of life. I attended a meeting at
one time and heard him narrate the change in his con-
dition, and that of his family ; that now he had a barrel
of flour, two tons of coal, and all paid for, with many
other household comforts. His wife was soon convert-
ed, and his was a happy family, if one could be found on
earth. Before he was converted he never had but ten
cents worth of coal at a time; but now God blessed him
in basket and store.
In 1857-8, the work of God was revived, and many
were saved. I cannot mention all that came under my
observation ; though I have the record of many a mark-
ed conversion, in a book kept at the time; many of
them were published by a Mr. Williams, in a book
specially detailing the answers to prayer. One case
only I will state, as it is one of interest to all. It was
a father who had been a drunkard, as he said, for twen-
ty years. It was a time of general revival in Boston; in
fact, all through New England. He came to our morning
meeting in Spring Lane. Before he came, he said, his
little daughter got up in his lap and looked him in the
te tet te
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW: 241
face and said, ‘‘ Papa, why don’t you leave off drink-
ing? Do, papa; it makes mother feel so bad to live as
you do. I wish you would.” That look, and the tears
of his daughter, went straight to his heart, and he start-
ed for the prayer-meeting. He said, he thought of his
own wicked condition, of his family, reared in poverty,
- and all on the account of rum. WHe resolved then and
there to drink no more, and asked us to pray for him,
that he might have strength to carry out the purpose.
The recital of this case brought tears to every eye, and
after a season of prayer he felt somewhat relieved. He
came again not long after this, and was saved from his
intemperate habits and from his sins. His house be-
_ came a house of prayer instead of a home of drunken-
“ness.
These were distressing times among our merchants, —
times never to be forgotten. Money was scarce, and
- only obtained for from one to three per cent. Nearly
one hundred thousand poor laborers were thrown out
of employment, and had to suffer more or-less during
the winter. Exchanges were all broken up, though we
~ had large crops which were ready to come forward, but
for the unsettled state of finances. Our Calcutta mer-
_ chants were losing money on their importations. I did
_ but little, and lost more or less by failures. This was
a severe ordeal throngh which the country passed, but
it proved a blessing instead of a curse. The people
had been overtasked and lived too fast, and this re-ac-
31 i
242 FROM POVERTY. TO PLENTY}; OR,
tion taught them a valuable lesson. Some people have
the faculty to earn, but never know how to keep money.
All at once the wonderful financial storm p:
away, and although the ship of state lost some of her
sails and rigging, her hull was sound. Specie flowed
in from all quarters, and there were some eight million
dollars in our Boston banks, an increase of two mil-
lions more than before the panic. Produce was very
low; flour five dollars per barrel, and other things in
proportion. Business for ships very dull, and ships
could be bought at twenty-five per cent less than cost.
All seemed to be waiting for some change for the bet-
ter. -*
On June 20, of this year (1858), Ada, our youngest
daughter, in the providence of God, was called to
mourn the loss of her husband by death. He was a
moral young man, but left no evidence of a change of
heart. Bros. Clark, Cushing, and Thayer officiated at
the funeral.
I built a ship in connection with Paul Curtis, of East
Boston, of one thousand tons. It being the last ship I
built, I named her ‘‘ Nauset,” after the first town set-
tled on the Cape, by the Pilgrims, after Plymouth.
REVIEWING OLD SCENES.
It had been some thirty-three years since my “ lin-
sey-woolsey ” speculation in Indianapolis, and I felt a
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 243
strong desire to see the place once more, where I made
such a loss. I left Boston in October, with my two
_ daughters. We made several stops on the way. At
Albany we became acquainted with an English general,
who was in command of a city in Asia Minor, held by
ae Turks. We found him exceedingly social, and
from him we learned some interesting facts of the strug-
gles, fights, and surrender of the city. He left us at
Buffalo on his way to Canada, to take command of the
English forces stationed there. We stopped over night
at Buffalo, and, as usual, after tea I sallied out to find a
prayer-meeting. I found a meeting conducted by a
local preacher, the minister being away to Conference.
Some fifty only were present, and it was rather prosy.
None prayed except called on by the leader. I stood
it as long as I could, and, without an invitation, I took
the floor, and gave them a little New England talk about
- full salvation. They all stared at me, wondering who
the stranger could be who dared to break in upon their
regular order of conducting ameeting. I narrated how
we managed our social meetings in New England, and
felt some of the good spirit prompting me, and before I
closed I had the meeting entirely under my control, and
at the close such a shaking of hands was scarcely ever
witnessed. I soon after arrived at my destination, stop-
ping over night at Cleveland, where we found company
going West.
In 1824, Indianapolis was a howling wilderness, the
244 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, —
hunting ground for wild game. The place had just
been laid out as the seat of government; trees just
felled, and stumps stood as thick in the streets as in the —
fields ; but now I found a city with twenty thousand in-
habitants. This city is now the centre for nearly all
the Western rail-roads. Now one does not think it
much of a trip to go West, even as far as St. Louis, or
even California. Forty years ago when one started to
go as far as Cincinnati, the dangers that surrounded the
way were such, that it was. doubtful if he ever arrived.
While I was at Indianapolis I was introduced to
Bishop Ames, and other prominent Methodists. I met,
also, Brother Taylor, the California Street Preacher. He
was selling a history of his life to raise funds to pay off a
debt he had incurred in building a church for the sea-
men. He and his wife would take their stand in the
square and very soon sing together a congregation.
One object of my visit to this place was to find the
old log-cabin at which I stopped with my ‘linsey-—
woolsey” in 1824; but no trace of it remained, and
the oldest inhabitant could not locate it, such radical
|
changes had taken place. What wonderful changes —
take place in a few years in these western cities. As
:
:
,
great changes occur in us, it is likely, but we do not so —
readily observe them.
I was absent some two weeks, visiting Lawrenceburg,
on the banks of the Ohio, the place where I landed with
:
my dory, many years ago; then a small town compared ~
'
:
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 245
to what it is at present, though it has not grown with
the rapidity of Cincinnati or St. Louis. I sJuud it full
of distilleries making whiskey, and raising hogs, which
-were fed on the refuse corn after the whiskey was all
pressed out of it. It makes one sick at heart to see the
staff of life converted into such a death-dealing agent,
instead of being used, as nature intended, to prolong
life, and impart comfort to the race.
On my return I stopped at Cincinnati and Baltimore,
having spent about two weeks in looking over the
ground where thirty years ago I labored hard and fared
hard. It does one good to recount the past, — unless it
be mixed with sin, —and consider the causes of grati-
tude.
On the third of March, Father Patten, the oldest
_ member of Bromfield-Street Church, died, aged seven-
_ ty-eight years. He was a good man, and died in peace,
_ saying that he was ready to depart and be with Jesus.
__ How important that we be ready, for we know not the
day nor the hour of death’s coming. :
I heard Father Taylor preach in Bromfield Street,
about this time, from the text, *‘God so loved the
world,” etc. He remarked, that some forty years ago,
a sailor boy, with a glazed hat in hand, might have
been seen in the body of this church. He heard a gos-
pel which fell with power upon his sunburnt brow, and
for the first time his heart trembled, and all around him
seemed to shake. He surrendered and a free pardon
246 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
was granted. Soon after, he commenced preaching the
the same blessed gospel to his fellow-men, and some —
years later to his fellow-seamen, in Methodist Alley, at
North End, now Hanover Avenue; then in the Brick
Church in North Square, formerly called Court Square,
on account of the courts being held there, ete.
Father Taylor put all his strength into his sermons,
and would frequently say he had to preach to a new
congregation every Suiday, and that some one or
more were hearing him for the last time. His look, his:
manner, and subdued tones of voice, on this occasion, so
unlike his former boisterous tones, could not fail to move
all hearts, and at times we all felt as though he might
never be heard again in that desk. Father Taylor was
one of Nature’s noblemen. He had but few equals in
originality of thought, and graphic description. He, at
times, was like an untamed lion, and then as loving and
tender as a lamb. He was frequently sarcastic, and
would give utterance to sentiments one could never for-
get. Like many others, he lacked good judgment, and
was in some sense a mere child. It might be said of
him, that he was better for war than for safe counsel.
He had warm friends and bitter enemies. I attended
his meetings for some two years when we resided at
the North End, and, take him for all in all, I never
knew his equal for managing a social meeting, when he
was really in the spirit. He was so constituted, how-—
ever, that he must be captain, mate, and all hands.
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 247
Though independent himself, he did not like to see it
_ inothers. He could never endure dictation from any
one. He will, no doubt, have many stars in his crown
of rejoicing, having been instrumental in saving many
a poor sailor. He had more influence over this class
than any other man I ever knew. Now that he is gone
there is no one yet found to make good his place.
The Methodists about this time organized a Historical
Society, and I was elected treasurer. This we thought
_ a grand move by our church, to collect all the old doc-
uments, and incidents of our early history, and have
them bound in a volume as a matter of reference ; such
as relate to the planting of Methodism in New England ;
and, in time, to open a room free to all who desire to
become acquainted with all the incidents connected with
our denomination; which, as a people, would tend to
bind us together and stir our souls by reading of the
sufferings and toils of our fathers, in planting in this
Western world the doctrines of John Wesley, called of
God, as many believe, to preach a free and a full salva-
tion.
MY BANKING LIFE.
I have before stated that I was elected a director of
the Bank of North America. In the month of August,
1859, on the death of Mr. Crockett, I was elected pres-
ident of this bank, with a salary, at my own request,
of five hundred dollars. My predecessor was paid two
248 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR, Z
thousand, but was not worth five hundred. The capi-
tal stock of the bank was seven hundred and fifty
thousand dollars, and it was my purpose to make it a
first-class paying institution. The stock rose in value
very soon from three-and-a-half to seven-and-a-quarter,
making a difference of over twenty-two thousand dol-_
lars to the stock-holders.
Several of our former directors had failed in business,
and having settled up with their creditors, were anxious
to come back and occupy their former positions. Mr.
Nickerson and myself objected, as they were large
money borrowers. But before the meeting in Novem-
ber, for the election of directors, they had, unknown to
Nickerson and myself, been active in procuring proxies,
and at the election we were both turned out, and they’
elected themselves. The result of this action was, that
the stock fell from one hundred seven-and-a-quarter to
one hundred one-and-three-fourths. This was a bad
job for the stockholders, who gave their proxies into
their hands. But so things are done sometimes when
money borrowers get hold of the money-strings. Some
of our friends advised that we go to work and buy up
the stock and turn them out, which we could have done ;
but, upon more mature reflection, we concluded not to
do it, but to start another bank. The books were
opened, and in three months, — from November, 1859,
to February, 1860,— we had seven hundred thousand
dollars subscribed, and six hundred and fifty thousand
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 249
paid in, — about three hundred thousand of which I took
and secured myself, — and the Bank of the Republic in-
augurated and doing business next door but one to the
old bank, and bidding fair to be one of the best banks
in Boston. -It has left the Bank of North America far
in the rear. So much for pluck, and minding one’ S
own business, and letting others alone. I had in this
to pass through some severe trials, but I stuck to it like
a good fellow, not relaxing an inch, and I came out all
right, and a good way ahead. One hardly knows what
he can do until he is put to the test. But with right
on his side, and integrity in his conduct, he will succeed,
though the storm may rage and the winds blow. He
will come out all right, if he does as Sumner exhorted
Stanton, — ‘* stick !”
We gained more friends and a
better position than if we had bought up the controlling
part of the stock of the old bank. This, of course, re-
quired thought and constant care, but that is part of
life, and if one thinks of going through this world in an
easy-chair, he will doubtless find, before he goes far,
that he is mistaken. I was elected president of the
bank unanimously, with a salary of one thousand dol-
lars per annum, which was all I asked. Matters were
very pleasant, as much so as I could have desired.
There was no friction whatever, such as was in the old
bank; and I question if I ever could have made the
Bank of North America what I have made the Bank of
the eels.
250 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
.After we got fairly under way, I was greatly relieved
of my responsibility, and enjoyed my mind in religious
matters to a degree I had not for some time. I hope
when my work is done, as done it will be before long,
I shall feel as though I had not lived in vain, and had
been something more than an idler in God’s vineyard.
March 15, 1868, I purchased at auction an old store,
No. 3 Merchant’s Row, with about eighteen hundred
feet of land, for the sum of seventy thousand dollars.
Our directors took it off my hands, and on the seventh of ~
October commenced taking down the old byilding, and —
erecting thereon a banking-house for the Bank of the
Republic, to cost one hundred and twenty thousand —
dollars. We found it very difficult to get a good foun-
dation, as this part of Boston was once covered with
tide water, and old logs and stones formed the founda-
tion for wharves. We were obliged to dig ten feet to get —
to solid earth. The bank occupies the spot where, for- —
ty-five years ago, stood a store, the oceupant of which,
trusted me, a perfect stranger, with a lot of butter, on
four months. This circumstance has come to my mind
frequently, and I have wondered how he could have ~
had so much confidence in a man he had never seen be-
fore. But I paid the note before it beeame due. =
July 1, we moved into our new banking-house. We —
gave a strawberry collation to numerous invited guests, _
who seemed happy, and unanimously praised our new —
quarters. |
.
}
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 251
‘The following address to the directors of the bank
sets forth its history and condition. We insert it as
delivered : —
<< Directors of the National Bank of the Republic, —
‘¢ GENTLEMEN, — For the vote just passed by your
body, announcing the election of myself as President of
this Bank, I give you, individually and collectively, my
sincere thanks. Another year of our organization has
passed, and we are commencing a new year. Weare all
one year nearer that bourne from whence no traveller re-
turns. We have doubtless learned much from our experi-
ence which may aid us in the duties that may devolve upon
us in the future. This Bank was organized in 1860, and
commenced business with a capital of six hundred and
fifty thousand dollars. We hada board of ten directors,
two only of whom are with us to-day. At our last elec-
tion, Mr. Jacobs and Mr. Chickering declined to be can-
didates for re-election on account, mainly, of the poor
state of their health. During the first two years we
found it exceedingly difficult to pay our stock-holders
a dividend of three per cent. semi-annually. Our’stock
was sold as low as ninety dollarsashare. It was a dark
day for banking. A crisis took place soon after the re-
bellion commenced, and we had to carry some two hun-
dred thousand dollars of suspended paper, and three of
our directors failed. No one could tell, for a time,
252 ‘FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
what to-morrow would bring forth. Bankruptey and :
war were staring us in the face.
‘Tt was the darkest day I ever saw for our country; 7
for, if the rebellion had been successful, the North would
have been over-run with slavery, and there would have
been a Northern and a Southern Confederacy. The
cause of all this was slavery ; to extend and perpetuate —
it, caused the civil war. In 1864, we organized under
the United States banking law and secured a circulation —
of eight hundred thousand dollars, national currency, —
which circulated all over the eountry ; to secure which —
we deposited with the Government some nine hundred
thousand dollars of its bonds, and we were assigned as a
deposit bank, and became a government agent in the
sale of its bonds. Then, as the sailors say, we began
to range ahead. We commenced to pay four per cent.
dividend, then five, and then six. This continued for
some time, say until 1869, when there was considerable
agitation in Congress about taking from the North some
of its circulation to accommodate the South and West.
To save what we had, we increased our capital to one
million five hundred thousand dollars, and paid our.
stock-holders twenty-five per cent. extra dividend, and
reduced our surplus to two hundred and fifty thousand
dollars. Soon after this we bought a lot on Merchants’
Row, and built our present banking-house, which cost —
us about one hundred and twenty thousand dollars, on
which there was a mortgage of twenty-six thousand dol-
'
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 253
lars, which the mortgagee refused to have us pay, and
on which we pay six per cent. We have been able to
rent nearly all, except what the Bank uses, at a rental
nearly sufficient to pay the interest on the cost. We
started the Bank on the most economical basis. The
highest salary paid was fifteen hundred dollars, to the
cashier ; but, as our business increased, we raised the
salary until we now pay our cashier five thousand dol-
lars, and the other officers correspondingly. It should
ever be kept in mind that the cashier should feel that
he can live on his salary, and not be tempted to go out-
side to deal in stocks, which has been the rock where
most of our cashiers have been wrecked, as history will
' fully corroberate. Our business has constantly increas-
ed and has more than thribbled. It is not necessary
for me to detain you by a more detailed account, inas-
much as the history of the Bank is known to you all.
Suffice it to say that the Bank is now in as sound and
prosperous a condition as any other Bank in Boston,
with only about thirty thousand dollars of over-due pa-
per, the payment of which is only a matter of time;
and, considering the amount of paper which has passed
through the Bank annually, say over seven millions,
one can come to no other conclusion than that: we have
been fortunate, having passed through the Chicago and
Boston fires without a dollar of suspended paper, ex-
cept twenty-two hundred dollars of Dorr Parks’, which 4
is now charged off; and to-day, so far as I am able to
22
254 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
judge of the working of the Bank, we were never doing
so well for our stock-holders as now. Our surplus,
which was two hundred and fifty thousand dollars when
we made our new stock in 1869, is now, with our earn-
ings since October, over four hundred and seventy
thousand dollars.
I have the pleasure of congratulating the Board in
having as good a corps of officers as can be found
in any banking institution in this State; and they
are, including the president, wedded to the interests
of the Bank; and I am proud to believe them hon-
est, industrious, and economical; and this is not, I
think, saying more than their conduct merits, for when
young men do well, they deserve the commendation of
their employers. The one thousand dollars you so gen-
erously authorized me to divide among them, as a gra-
tuity, will stimulate them to build up a character such
as will live after they are dead. A banking institution
ig just what the directors and officers make it. It is
not a machine which will run of itself. We must give
to its management our best thoughts, and be constantly
on the watch, for a bank, after all, is a sort of public
institution, both at home and abroad, and when once
established on a firm basis, will reflect credit on its
managers. I am satisfied that by our united action the
National Bank of the Republic will stand in Boston and
elsewhere, as to its sound condition, so that none of us
will be ashamed of it.
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 255
«
twenty years ago it took thirty days! Such is the
progress and developement in the arts dnd sciences. 1
I realize how much grace we need to live. I feel
deeply anxious for all those who are near to me by the
ties of consanguinity, that all may come on board the
gospel ship, and be fully saved. 3
T am having some trouble with Josiah Quincy, about
his gutter setting on my wall. One day he agrees to re-
move it, and the next he declines, and says he will pay —
for its use ; and so matters stand, nothing settled, He
is one of those men who are so made up that one cannot —
tell where to find them. He can out-talk me altogether, —
and I have come to the conclusion not to trust him
unless I have it in black and white.
=
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 285
The bill of impeachment against President Johnson
_ was tried by Congress, but he was not convicted; so
he remains in power. i
‘Flour is twenty dollars per barrel; the highest I
ever knew it.
May 4.—The directors voted to raise my salary to
four thousand dollars. This is a matter I have never
pressed, as I was working for the interest of the Bank. _
I have ever been ambitious to make it a good paying in-
stitution.
The Allen estate sold to-day at auction for one hun-
dred and eighty-seven thousand dollars. I bought the
same property two years previous for two hundred and
sixteen thousand dollars, for our bank, but the title
was not satisfactory.
May 20.—TI have just returned home from a visit
to the old homestead on the Cape, where I was born.
Elizabeth and Harry went with me. I stopped at Barn-
stable, and visited the old farm I sold to my brother-in-
law, Mr. Fish, when I fully decided to make Boston
my place of residence, nearly forty years ago. I also
visited, at Orleans, some of my old friends and rela-
tives, and spent a night and a day with my sister. She
seemed to think there was no place like old Cape Cod,
especially Orleans. On this we did not agree, though
it is pleasant to visit the spot occasionally where one ©
= ‘ E)
286 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
' =
was born. I walked among the trees I planted when :
boy. I seemed to feel a pride in the fact that 11 r :
son of the Pilgrim Fathers, and born on the soil wher
lie the bones of the earliest settlers of the Cupe, frot
whom I have descended ; but for forty years Boston ha
been my home. I go back two hundred years and
fancy I see that little acorn dropped into the soil from
which has sprung up a forest of men; and the city
of our habitation, Boston, has become one of the larg
and most active of all our sister cities. I do not De
lieve that God made the country and man made the
town. A city exists as much by divine laws as th
field or mountain. Its situation on some stream or
- central location for trade, is no accident; for there i sa
law which is eternal, viz.: production and exch —
Take for instance the City of New York, at the j
‘tion of the East and North rivers; or any spot so s
ated, where activity and enterprise converge, the
houses are a necessity ; progress demands it. i
On my way home from Orleans, I stopped at B —-
stable, and took a carriage to Cotuit, where I stoppe ved
all night with Captain Childs, who had sailed in one ¢ of
my ships called the ‘* Nauset.” Here I enjoyed ay rery
pleasant visit. Cotuit Port is getting to be quite
watering place. Mr. Hooper, member of Congress,
has bought a place of Captain Crocker, near the Bay,
and has laid out the grounds, and otherwise improved i it,
so that it is very attractive as a summer residence,
: ;
THE LIFE OF DAVID SNOW. 287
_ Others are selecting this as a place to spend the summer
months. Forty-four years ago, when I supplied the
only store (Mr. Crocker’s) with crackers, there were
only six houses in the place ; now there are one hundred.
June 12. — By invitation, went to Bristol and took a
sail down Naragansett Bay, R. I.
Real estate in Boston, I think, will advance, and I am
half inclined to buy an estate on Federal and Matthews
Street, at nine dollars per foot.
July 6.—I have this day bought the above-named es-
tate, five thousand one hundred and fifty feet, for forty-
five thousand dollars, payable August 1.
I have agreed to give five hundred dollars towards
the Metropolitan Church, in Washington. The church
is central, and Gen. Grant, Stanton, and others, are
connected with this enterprise.
Religious matters are not especially interesting just
now. Business very dull; all are complaining of dull
times. My experience has led me to reflect much on
the way business is done in the city. Some merchants
accustom themselves, when short by overtrading, to
borrow of their neighbors ; and some, to my knowledge,
are constantly in debt, and it takes all their time to look
after finances, while their business is suffering for want
of personal attention.
August 12. —I started for our annual camp-meeting
288 FROM POVERTY TO PLENTY; OR,
at Yarmouth. On my return I took a trip to the Whi om
Mountains. Elizabeth accompanied me. We had an
abundance of rain.
Oct. 14. — Rev. Newman Hall preached to a crow Jed
house. He is a powerful preacher, and seems to be
full of the Holy Ghost. ‘
There is great excitement in polities. The Demo-—
crats have been out of office for some time, and they
are anxious to get back again. President Johnson has
fairly gone over to them. ‘
Dan and Addie have arrived safely home, for whi
we are truly thankful.
much pleased with their new quarters. Bishop Simp-
son, Bros. McDonald and J. A. M. Chapman, dined :
with me to-day. The Bishop preached at Grace Church —
Sunday afternoon to a crowded house. :
Thankgiving-day our children were home to dinner, ot
reminding me of old times. We had a love-feast at
Bromfield Street Church in the morning. It was a
good time among God’s people. “