Kitabı oku: «The Continental Monthly, Vol. 2, No. 2, August, 1862», sayfa 6

JOHN McDONOGH THE MILLIONAIRE

In the year 1850, and for nearly forty years previous, there could be seen almost every day in the streets of New-Orleans, a very peculiar and remarkable looking old gentleman. Tall and straight as a pillar, with stern, determined features, lit up by eyes of uncommon, almost unnatural brilliancy, with his hair combed back and gathered in a sort of queue, and dressed in the fashion of half a century ago, to wit, an old blue coat, with high collar, well-brushed and patched but somewhat 'seedy' pantaloons, of like date and texture, hat somewhat more modern, but bearing unmistakable proof of long service and exposure to sun and rain; old round-toed shoes, the top-leathers of which had survived more soles than the wearer had outlived souls of his early friends and companions; a scant white vest, ruffled shirt, and voluminous white cravat, completed the costume of this singular gentleman, who, with his ancient blue silk umbrella under his arm, and his fierce eye fixed on some imaginary goal ahead, made his way through the struggling crowds which poured along the streets of New-Orleans.

The last time this strange and spectral figure was seen making its accustomed rounds was on the twenty-sixth of October, 1850. On that day, a very remarkable event occurred, which attracted the notice of passers-by and was even snatched up as an item by the ever-vigilant reporters of the daily press; this consisted simply in a notable variation from the routine and habits of the old gentleman in the long-tailed blue. He was seen to stop on Canal street, to hesitate for a few moments, and then deliberately enter an omnibus bound for the lower part of the city. Such an occurrence created quite a sensation among street-corner gossippers. There must really be some new and pressing emergency, which could produce this departure from the custom and invariable habits of forty years; so said every one who knew the old gentleman. The omnibus stopped at the court-house; the subject of these observations and his blue umbrella emerged from it, and both soon disappeared in the corridor leading to the so-called halls of justice.

That was the last that was ever seen of the strange old gentleman on the streets of New-Orleans. The evening journals of the next day contained the following obituary:

'Died this morning, the twenty-seventh of October, 1850, at McDonoghville, opposite the city of New-Orleans, after a short illness, John McDonogh, a native of Baltimore, but for forty years a resident of Louisiana.'

And the strange old man, who could not ride a few squares in the omnibus without attracting the attention of every body and exciting public curiosity to such a degree, was the millionaire, the Crœsus of the South, the largest land-owner in the United States. He had reached the advanced age of seventy, and his remarkable vigor and health had never given way under the pressure of the severest and most incessant labor. Generation upon generation had lapsed into the grave under his eye. A few, a very few shriveled old men were known to him as cotemporaries. Suddenly, while pursuing so eagerly his imaginary goal, he was seized with faintness on the street. Other men would have taken a cab, and ridden home, or at least to a physician's; but when did John McDonogh turn aside from business to relieve any weakness or want? He had an important document to file in court. It must be done that day. He is too weak to walk. There is the omnibus; the fare is only a dime; but that dime is so much taken from the poor, for John McDonogh is only an agent for the poor, so appointed and called of God. Such were the reflections that passed through his mind before he could be induced to perpetrate this serious violation of the settled rules of a life, this single blot and stain on a career of unbroken self-abnegation. With a sigh, he took his seat in the omnibus.

It was his last ride.

In a cold, desolate, dreary, brick building, constituting almost the only visible sign of the existence of the town of McDonoghville, situate on the right bank of the Mississippi, opposite to the centre of New-Orleans, and in a large room, the furniture of which was old-fashioned, worn, and time-stained, there lay on a small hard mattress the gaunt figure of the millionaire, tortured with pain and fast sinking under the ravages of that terrible disease, the Asiatic cholera. The only beings near were negroes; no white persons were ever allowed to spend the night under that roof. Those negroes were the rich man's slaves in law, but companions and friends in fact. His immense business, his vast estates were administered through them. Even his documents were copied by them. They were true to him in his moment of distress and sickness. All that their limited knowledge of medicine could suggest was done for his relief. At last, in disregard of his command, a physician was brought from the city, who pronounced his condition a very critical one. The doctor's first demand was for brandy.

'Massa, there an't bin no brandy in this house for twenty years,' was the reply of an old, gray-headed domestic.

A servant was dispatched to the nearest grocery; but it proved to be too late. The dying man perceived his condition, and requested that his lawyer should be sent for. In an hour that gentleman arrived. He was just in time.

'Roselins,' he said, addressing one of the most eminent of the lawyers of the New-Orleans bar, as he held his hand, 'You see I am going; you see I am not afraid to die. Take care of the estate; 'tis not mine,'tis God's and the poor's.' And thus, without a struggle, the soul of John McDonogh passed to its Maker.

His death was truly a desolate one. No devoted relatives or friends gathered around his couch to cheer his last moments with those tender tokens of love and sorrow which so sweeten the otherwise bitter cup of death. No soft hand of woman smoothed his pillow or relieved the agony of pain and suffering by the timely opiate or emollient. No weeping little ones were there to cheer his heart with the assurance that on their dear pledges of affection his name and virtues will live after him. His lawyer, physician, and his servants were the only witnesses to the mortal agony of one who could have commanded troops of devoted friends, and who possessed the qualities which might have adorned the domestic and social circle.

So departed this life the rich and eccentric possessor of acres sufficient to have made a duchy or a kingdom, and of money adequate to the maintenance of the dignity and power of such a position.

But if his death and funeral were attended by so few witnesses, an occasion quickly followed which was honored by the presence of a large, eager, curious crowd. It was when his will was probated and read in court. Intense was the curiosity of the public to know what disposition the eccentric old man had made of his enormous property. This feeling was soon gratified. The will was produced. It was a curious document, written on stout foolscap by the testator himself, in a remarkably neat, clear hand, with the lines as close as type, and his autograph signed to every page. Being an holographic will, under the law of Louisiana it required no witness. Ever since 1838, this will had lain among certain old papers of the deceased; and yet, during all this time, it had been 'the thought by day and dream by night' of the devoted old millionaire. In its preparation, he had consulted the most eminent lawyers and studied the most approved law-books bearing on his grand scheme. Truly, a curious, bold, and gigantic scheme it was. But let us to the will. In a slow, solemn and impressive tone, the judge proceeded to read to an eager and interested multitude this remarkable testament.

After setting forth, in the usual form, his nativity, his present residence, his belief in God and in the uncertainty of life, and that he has no heirs living in the ascending or descending line, and directing an inventory of his property to be taken immediately after his death, he proceeds to bequeath to the children of his sister, a widow lady in Baltimore, a ten-acre lot in Baltimore, the usufruct to remain in the widow, with six thousand dollars in cash. He then emancipates his old servants, ten in number, whom he designates. The rest of his slaves he provides shall be sent to Liberia. Certain of them are to be sent after serving those who shall succeed to his estate for fifteen years. The slaves to be sent to Liberia are to be supplied with plows, hoes, spades, axes, clothing, garden-seeds, etc.; also with letters of recommendation to the colonists, and with a copy for each of the volume of the Holy Gospel of the Old and New Testament, as the most precious of all the gifts we have it in our power to give or they to receive. The will then proceeds to provide:

'And for the more general diffusion of knowledge and consequent well-being of mankind, convinced as I am that I can make no disposition of those worldly goods which the Most High has been pleased so bountifully to place under my stewardship, that will be so pleasing to him as that by means of which the poor will be instructed in wisdom and led into the path of virtue and holiness.'

He gives all the residue of his estate to the corporations of New-Orleans and Baltimore, in equal proportions of one half to each, for the several intents and purposes set forth, and especially for the establishment of Free Schools for all classes and castes of color, wherein they shall all be instructed in the knowledge of the Lord and in reading, writing, arithmetic, history, geography, etc., provided that the Bible shall be used as one of the class-books, and singing taught as an art.

And now comes the ingenious scheme which had engaged the constant thought and study of the testator for forty years, by which the grand passion of his soul for accumulation might survive the dissolution of his mortal frame and still direct and control the acquisitions of his life. Of his real estate, no part is ever to be sold; but it is all to be let out on leases, never to exceed twenty-five years, to be improved by the tenants or lessees. At the expiration of those leases, the property is to revert, free of cost, to his estate, to be thereafter rented out by the month or year. All his personal property is to be sold and converted into real estate, the aggregate of which is styled his general estate, which is 'to constitute' a permanent fund on interest, as it were, namely, a real estate, affording rents, no part of which fund (of the principal) shall ever be touched, divided, sold, or alienated, but shall forever remain together as one 'estate.'

The net amount of rents to be divided equally between the two cities, to be applied as follows:

1. An annuity for forty years of one eighth part, or twelve and a half per cent of the net yearly revenue of rents of the whole of the estate, to the American Colonization Society, provided the sum does not exceed twenty-five thousand dollars a year.

2. For an asylum for the poor of both sexes, of all ages and castes of color, where they may be sheltered, clothed, fed, and taken care of, made useful according to their respective degrees of health, strength, and capacity, and mendicity thereby be banished from the streets of the cities, he gives one eighth, or twelve and a half per cent of the net revenue of rents, until the sum shall reach six hundred thousand dollars, when it shall cease. This legacy is to be received by commissioners appointed by the corporations, who, as they receive, shall invest the amount in bank stocks or other good securities, on landed estate on interest, so as to augment the amount thereof by the accumulation of interest to the largest possible amount up to the time when the last of the annuity shall be received, when the commissioners shall proceed to take such part of said sum, not to exceed one third of the whole of principal and interest, and invest in the purchase of real estate and buildings, furniture, etc., essential for the asylum; the residue to be invested in real estate, which is never to be sold, but always rented out for the support of the asylum. The locality and character of the buildings are particularly described. It is recommended that the persons who shall reside in this asylum be employed in the cultivation of the mulberry-trees, (this was during the morus multicaulis mania.)

3. For the Orphan Boys' Asylum in New-Orleans—an existing institution—one eighth, or twelve and a half per cent of the net yearly revenue of rents. This annuity is to be set aside and deposited in some bank-paying interest, until it reaches four hundred thousand dollars, when it shall cease. This fund as it accumulates is to be invested in real estate, which is never to be sold, but rented out, and the rents devoted to the charity.

4. For a School-Farm in the city of Baltimore, on an extensive scale, for the destitute and the poorest of the poor of the city of Baltimore, Maryland; secondly, of every town and village of said State; and thirdly, of all the great maritime cities of the United States, of all classes and castes of color, from four years to sixteen, where they shall be sheltered, lodged, clothed, fed, instructed in the Christian religion, and a plain education given them, and taught husbandry practically, as well as the science of agriculture, providing that the Bible shall be read and singing taught, especially 'divine psalmody,' one eighth part, or twelve and a half per cent of the whole revenue of the general estate, to be paid until it shall amount to three millions of dollars, when it shall cease. This sum, too, as it accrues, is to be invested in real estate, until the whole amount of three millions is received. One sixth of the rents from this investment is to be applied to the purchase of the School-Farm, the other five sixths to be invested in lots in Baltimore, which shall be leased out and the rents applied to the support of the farm.

The modes in which these various institutions are to be governed and directed are then set forth in tedious detail, interlarded with many rather trite and moralizing reflections on the importance of having the young reared up in habits of virtue and industry. A complex system of government is arranged, and great care taken that the funds thus bequeathed to charitable institutions shall never be controlled by the corporations of the two cities. It is also provided, that

'No compromise shall ever take place between the Mayor, Aldermen, and inhabitants of the city of Baltimore, in Maryland, and the Mayor, Aldermen, and inhabitants of the city of New-Orleans, nor shall any agreements be made between these two cities contrary to the directions of the will. If such compromise or agreement be made, these legacies shall be void, and the States of Maryland and Louisiana shall receive the general estate half and half, for the purpose of educating the poor of said States, and in case of any lapse of the legacies to the cities, the States shall inherit the general estate.'

After these dispositions and directions, the testator proceeds:

'Now, with the view of setting forth and explaining more fully and particularly (if it is possible) my desires and intentions as expressed in the foregoing dispositions of this my last will and testament, in relation to my general estate, I will add, that the first, principal, and chief object I have at heart, (the object which has actuated and filled my soul from early boyhood with a desire to acquire fortune,) is the education of the poor (without the cost of a cent to them) in the cities of New-Orleans and Baltimore, and their respective suburbs, in such a manner that every poor child and youth of every color in those places may receive a common English education, (based, however, be it particularly understood, on a moral and religious one, that is, the pupils shall on particular days he instructed in morality and religion, and school shall be opened and closed daily with prayer.) And in time, when the general estate will yield the necessary funds, (for in time its revenue will be very large,) over and above what will be necessary to the education of the poor of those two cities and their respective suburbs, it is my desire and request that the blessings of education may be extended to the poor throughout every town, village, and hamlet in the respective States of Louisiana and Maryland, and was it possible, through the whole of the United States of America.'

After paying off all the annuities, which the testator thinks will be completed in forty years, the net annual revenue of rents of the general estate is to be equally divided, one half to each, between the said two cities of Baltimore and New-Orleans, for the purpose of educating the poor.

The testator then proceeds to inculcate a better feeling between the poor, and rich, declaring that the latter are 'reservoirs in which the Most High makes to flow the rich streams of his beneficence, to be laid up and husbanded for his all-wise and all-seeing purposes, and for seasons of distress and affliction to the poor. Instead, then, of looking on them as their greatest enemies, they should, on the contrary, consider them as they really are, their best friends. This is the position of all rich men, whose hearts occupy the right place in their bosoms, stand toward the poor.'

Then follows a remarkable and consoling confession of the superior happiness of the poor man:

'Besides, let the poorer classes of the world be consoled, assured that the labor-loving, frugal, industrious, and virtuous among them possess joys and happiness in this life which the rich know not and can not appreciate; so well convinced am I (after a long life and intercourse with my fellow-men of all classes) of the truth 'that the happiness of this life is altogether on the side of the virtuous and industrious poor,' that had I children, (which I have not,)' [how lively and sagacious the apprehension of the old millionaire lest some putative offspring might come forward to disturb his darling bequests!] 'and a fortune to leave behind me at death, I would bequeath, after a virtuous education, (to effect which nothing should be spared,) a very small amount to each, merely sufficient to excite them to habits of industry and frugality, and no more. As the poor man's friend, then, I recommend to him to honor and respect the virtuous rich, and to lay these observations to their heart and to store them up in their mind. And to the rich, I would say, (if they own feelings, and worthy of their regard,) 'Give them an occasional reflection.' Hoping thereby, that the world may advance in happiness, in virtue, and holiness.'

Lastly, the old man grows tender, sentimental, and poetic, He who for forty years had never been seen or known to manifest a single emotion of gentleness, of tender feeling or sentiment, of love of children, of nature, or any domestic affection, in his last will desires to be held in loving remembrance by the fresh young souls for whose benefit he declares he has led his long career of toil, of self-sacrifice, and devotion, to gain. The association of sweet flowers, sprinkled over a green grave by the hands of innocent children, with the life and character of one of the most intense, hard and severe devotees to Mammon that ever lived, is a strange and incongruous one, but it was a picture which appears to have been very distinctly sketched on the imagination of John McBonogh, as will appear from the following clauses in his will:

'I request my executors (hereinafter named) to see that my funeral is plain, made without parade, and with the least possible expenses. And (I was near forgetting that) I have still one small request to make, one little favor still to ask, and it shall be the last: It is, that it may be permitted annually to the children of the free schools (situate the nearest to the place of my interment) to plant and water a few flowers around my grave. This little act will have a double tendency: it will open their young and susceptible hearts to gratitude and love to their divine Creator for having raised up (as the humble instrument of his bounty to them) a poor, frail worm of earth like me, and teach them at the same time, what they are, whither they came, and whence they must return.'

Such was John McDonogh's grand theory of philanthropy, which he had devoted so many years of sacrifice, study, and labor, to mature and prepare.

Accompanying the will, and inclosed in the same box, were certain memoranda of instructions to his executors, who were distinguished citizens of Baltimore and New-Orleans, including Henry Clay, of Kentucky, and K. R. Gurley, of Washington City, These directions to his executors are very minute and specific. Certain observations in this document are worthy of being copied, as characteristic. His reasons for preferring to invest in land are thus stated:

'For the base of a permanent revenue, (to stand through all time, with, the blessing of the Most High,) I have preferred the earth, 'a part of the solid globe.' One thing is certain, it will not take wings and fly away, as silver and gold, government and bank-stocks often do. It is the only thing in this world of ours which approaches to any thing like permanency; or in which at least there is less mutation than in things of man's invention. The little riches of this world, therefore, which the Most High has placed in my hands, and over which he has been pleased to place and make me his steward, I have invested therein, that it may yield (its fruits) an annual revenue to the purpose I have destined it forever.'

He also states his motives, as follows:

'My soul has all my life burned with an ardent desire to do good—much good, great good—to my fellow-man, as it was chiefly by that means, and through that channel, that I could bend, greatly bend to the honor and glory of my Lord and Master,—which was my soul's first, great, chief object and interest.'

He says, however, he has much to complain of the world, and gives instances of its injustice, especially in suits, where his just claims were ignored because he was rich:

'They said of me: 'He is rich, old, without wife or child; let us take from him, then, what he has.' Infatuated men! they knew not that it was an attempt to take from themselves, for I was laboring, and had labored all my life, not for myself, but for them and their children. Their attempts, however, made me not to swerve either to the right hand or to the left, although to see and feel so sorely their injustice and ingratitude made me often lament the frailty, the perversity, and sinfulness of our fallen nature. I persevered in an onward course, determined, as the steward and servant of my Master, to do them good whether they would have it or not. And I have so strove, so labored, to the last. The result is in the hands of Him who fixes and determines all results; he will do therewith as seemeth good unto himself.'

Who was John McDonogh, the maker of the foregoing will, and contriver of such a grand scheme of charity? The answer to this inquiry will be the most interesting part of this narrative. John McDonogh was born in Baltimore, Maryland, in 1779. The only incidents of his youth that are known are, that he was a clerk in a mercantile store in an inland town of Maryland; that he was noted then for eccentricities, and for an excess of imagination, which led to the apprehension that he was not entirely of sound mind. Still his energy and intelligence secured him employment and the confidence of his employers. About the year 1800 he was sent out to New-Orleans by a house in Baltimore, with a letter of credit and considerable resources. He engaged largely in business, but soon renounced his agency, and starting on his own account, became a leading and prosperous merchant. In a few years he accumulated a large fortune—say at least three hundred thousand dollars—then a vast amount in the colony. He was one of the nabobs of the city. His style of living and habits conformed to his position and resources. His mansion was one of the most showy and luxurious in the city. He kept his carriages and horses, his cellar of costly wines, and entertained on a scale of great extravagance and sumptuousness. He was, in fact, the centre of fashion, frivolity, sociability, and even of the fashionable dissipations of the day. His person, which even in extreme old age was remarkable for dignity, erectness, and courtliness, at the period we write of, was conspicuous for all the graces of manhood. Indeed, he was styled the handsomest man in the colony. That such a young man should attract the favorable notice of ambitious Creole beauties who then composed the only female society in New-Orleans, of managing mothers, desirous of providing for their daughters, or of fathers, who, in addition to the latter motive, might also desire to secure a connection which might promote their own business prospects, was quite natural. The handsome American merchant, with his still handsomer fortune, was, therefore, much courted. Though always gay, gallant, and polite, Mr. McDonogh proved for some time invulnerable to even the charms of Creole beauty. At last there were indications that a young Orleanoise of fortune equal to his own, and of personal charms that were the theme of general praise and admiration, had captured the obdurate Crœsus. This young damsel was then emerging into sweet sixteen. She was the toast and heiress of the city. Her name and family were among the oldest in the French and Spanish colonies. Her father was the venerable Senor Don Pedro Almonastre, an old official under the Spanish government, who, by prudent investments, accumulated a large property in the very centre of New-Orleans. He it was who donated the ground on which the Cathedral of St. Louis now stands. It is for the rest of his soul that mass is offered up and the bells are tolled every Sunday afternoon in this venerable temple.

The daughter and only child of Almonastre—her maiden name we forget—was born in the Colony, of a French Creole mother. She had attained the age of sixteen about the year 1811. It was then that Mr. McDonogh's propositions for an alliance were favorably considered, and all the arrangements were made for the betrothal of the parties. Suddenly, however, a new actor appeared on the stage, who overturned this well-arranged scheme. There resided in the city a grim, austere, and wealthy man, who had served in the French and Spanish armies, who was noted no less for his ferocity and pride—which had been displayed in several sanguinary duels—than for his wealth. He had an only son, a handsome, graceful, and fascinating young man, who, at the suggestion of his father, and perhaps at the prompting of his own heart, stepped forward to lay his claims at the feet of the lovely heiress of Almonastre. Fortunately for the cause of humanity, as will appear hereafter, though unfortunately for the American merchant, the young Frenchman supplanted him in the regard of the fair Creole.

The alliance of two such wealthy families as the Pontalbas and Almonastres, was a great event in the city, and it was duly celebrated by many brilliant festivities, at the close of which the happy couple departed for Paris, accompanied by the father of the young man. Purchasing a splendid hotel in the Faubourg St. Germain, the Pontalbas gave themselves up to all the fashionable dissipations of that gay city. The younger Pontalba was appointed by Napoleon one of his pages, with the title of Count. Leaving them to continue their gay life, we return to New-Orleans.

The day after the marriage of Miss Almonastre to young Pontalba, there stepped into the office of an old auctioneer on St. Louis street, no less an individual than the rich and elegant American merchant, John McDonogh, Esq.

'Sir,' remarked the merchant to the auctioneer, at the same time handing him a voluminous roll of paper, 'there is the inventory of my furniture, carriages, horses, liquors, stores, plate, and all that pertains to my establishment in Chartres street I desire you to sell them all for cash, immediately. Accordingly in three days the extensive establishment of Mr. McDonogh was all converted into money, to the great surprise and deep regret of his many friends and guests. With the proceeds he purchased a small, lonely house, on the opposite bank of the river, where, with scarcely furniture enough to satisfy the most ordinary use and demands of humble life, he immured himself in perfect seclusion. From that period until his death—forty long years—he ceased to have any connection or association with the world except in the course of business. He would neither dispense hospitality himself nor share that of others. Purchasing all the land around him, he placed himself beyond the curiosity and annoyance of near neighbors. His negro servants alone were permitted to reside in his house, and they were the depositories of the secrets of his household, and acted as his clerks and agents in all his transactions with the outside world.

Whilst thus socially secluded and morose, Mr. McDonogh continued to prosecute his acquisition of property with augmented vigor and ardor. It was about this time his passion for accumulating vast acres of waste and suburban land began to manifest itself. All his views regarded the distant future. The present value and productiveness of land were but little regarded by him. His only recreation and pleasure were in estimating the value of his swamp and waste land fifty, a hundred, and even a thousand years to come. This passion at last gained such an ascendency over him that he seemed to court and luxuriate in waste and desolation. He would buy cultivated places and allow them to go to ruin. He would build on his lots in the city miserable shanties and rookeries, which would taint the neighborhood and enable him to buy out his neighbors at low rates. One of his favorite plans of operation was to purchase the back-lands of plantations on the river, the value of which would be increased enormously by the improvements in front of them. So he eagerly pounced upon all the lands in the neighborhood of the towns and villages in the State. One of the most brilliant of his feats in this sphere was the completion of his lines of circumvallation around the city of New-Orleans. For many years he pursued this object with the greatest ardor and intensity. Commencing at the upper end of the city, he stole gradually around through the swamps, purchasing large belts of land, until at last, a few years before his death, meeting one of his old friends in the street, he slapped him on the shoulder, and with his face full of enthusiasm and joy,—exclaimed: 'Congratulate me, my friend; I have achieved the greatest victory of my life. I have drawn my lines around the city, and now entirely embrace it in my arms—all for the glory of God and the good of my race.'