THE HOUSE OF ROTHSCHILD.

BOUT thirty years ago, when "doing" Frankfort under the guidance of a cicerone, I recollect being taken to an exceedingly small and dirty street in the Juden-Gasse, or what might be called the slums of the town, and being assured that there dwelt the mother of the Rothschild race, and that no one dare to cleanse either the house or the adjoining synagogue from its primeval filth as long as the old lady lived, so wedded was she, like the rest of her tribe, to ancient customs and antiquarian dirt.

In the middle of the last century that identical house bore the sign of a broad shield, with the inscription Zum Rothen Schild, "The Red Buckler," where dwelt a poor Jew named Moses Amschel, whose son Meyer, the founder of the family wealth, was born there in 1743The father had gradually, as is so frequently done in Scotland, assumed the name from the signpost which his house bore. Thus Moses Amschel von Rothen Schild, or "Moses of the Red Shield," like mine host of the Red Lion so common in all our provincial towns, became Moses Roth's schild, and hence by a very natural transition this was changed into the wide-world name of ROTHSCHILD.

Meyer began life as an errand boy to his very poor father, who wished to make his son a Rabbi, as the ambitious cotter of Ireland hopes to see one of his kin a Maynooth priest. It was, however, ordered otherwise; and Meyer's first step in life was passing from the situation of errand boy in his paternal home to that of a small clerk in the house of Openheim, the banker of Hanover. And the cause of his great rise may be traced as follows :—

In the year 1801 the Hanoverian General Von Estorff, a personal friend of William IX., Landgrave of Hesse Cassel, was consulted by the latter respecting a suitable person for the situation of banker to the Court. Von Estorff had observed Meyer Rothschild as the cleverest clerk of Openheim's house, and proposed to introduce him to the Landgrave as one of the best financiers he had ever met. On being summoned to the palace one afternoon Rothschild found William and Von Estorff engaged at chess, the latter evidently getting the best of it. The Jew stood for a long time waiting patiently

behind the Landgrave's chair, without a word having been spoken by any one; until at length William, turning abruptly to Rothschild, said, "Do you know anything of this game?"

Yes, sir; and if your Highness will give me leave to suggest certain moves, I think you would win the game.”

"Out with it, then," replied the Landgrave. And by following the clerk's advice William won the game, which so pleased him that he at once promoted Rothschild to the office of Court banker.

Five years later, when William had to fly from the tyranny of Bonaparte, which then overshadowed Germany (in striking contrast to the marvels of Sedan and Metz in the year 1870), he entrusted his wealth, which was very great, to the care of the diligent banker; and the Landgrave's confidence in him was such that he would take no note or acknowledgment from Rothschild of the large sums entrusted to his care. The banker, with commendable foresight, concealed several millions in hogshead casks of wine which were standing in his cellar; and thus preserved the money from the rapacious hands of the French soldiery—who, like their successors the Prussians when invading France, were noted for their inability to distinguish between the meum and the tuum-when Bonaparte took possession of Frankfort.

Rothschild's first great financial success was at the commencement of the Spanish contest in 1808, when his bank was the only firm which could efficiently assist the English Government in finding means for carrying on the war. With William's sanction, Rothschild's wine casks were made to disgorge their gold, and thus food for firing the cannon, to carry on the well-known metaphor of men being "food for powder," was found.

Meyer Rothschild died in 1812, leaving by will the sum of £100,000 sterling to found a refuge for poor Jews of Frankfort; and five sons--viz., Amschel of Frankfort, Solomon of Vienna, Nathan of London, Charles of Naples, and James of Paris-as the respective heads of great financial firms in those cities, to carry on the work which their father had so successfully begun.

Innumerable are the anecdotes related of the sons, some of which I propose now to reproduce, in order not only to show that great wealth has its dark as well as its bright side-its penalties and its painsbut also to enforce the truth of the aphorism uttered by another Jew in olden times, viz., that too great a love of money is the root of all evil, and that godliness with contentment is great gain.

It is related that when Charles Rothschild of Naples, speaking of his own children to his elder brother, called them "the young

Barons," Amschel retorted sharply, "Pshaw; make them men of business. The title of Baron won't gain them a kreutzer."

It was by carrying out this principle to the fullest extent that the Rothschild family may trace the origin of their colossal fortune; and we have a remarkable instance of this in the conduct of the head of the London house at one of the most memorable periods in the history of Europe. Eager to gather the earliest information of events which he felt would settle its fate for many years to come, he did not shrink from the perils of the battle-field. On the morning of June 18, 1815, Nathan Rothschild rode on a hired horse from Brussels in the train of the Duke of Wellington, and in the company of Count Pozzo di Borgo, Baron Vincent, General Alava, Baron Muffling, and several other distinguished personages. Nathan kept close beside the German Baron, eagerly inquiring as to the chances of the coming struggle. It was uncertain, and the fate of the English army and of the house of Rothschild hung in the balance together. During the whole of that memorable day Nathan stood on the crest of the hill near Hougoumont, and watched the progress of the great battle. At length "night and the Prussians" arrived, and Nathan saw that Waterloo was won and his house was saved.

Without losing a moment Nathan spurred his horse and galloped off to Brussels. Here a carriage was ready to convey him to Ostend. At break of day on the 19th of June Nathan Rothschild found himself at the coast opposite England, but separated from the Thames and the Stock Exchange by a furious sea, and waves dashing mountains high. In vain the Jew offered 800 francs to be carried across the Straits from Ostend to Deal or Dover. At last he rose to 2,000 francs, and the bargain was struck, a poor fisherman risking his life to gain £80 for his wife and children. The frail bark which carried Cæsar and his fortunes sped swiftly over the waves, a sudden change of wind to the east accelerating the progress to an unexpected degree. The sun was still on the horizon when Nathan Rothschild landed at Dover, and, without waiting a moment, he engaged the swiftest horses to carry him onward to the metropolis. There was gloom in Threadneedle Street, and gloom throughout England, but gloomier than any looked Nathan Rothschild when he appeared on the morning of the 20th of June, leaning against his usual pillar at the Stock Exchange. He whispered to a few of his most intimate friends that Blucher, with his 120,000 Prussians, had been defeated by Napoleon in the great battle of Ligny, fought during the 16th and 17th of June. Heaven alone knew what had become of the handful of men under Wellington! The dismal news spread like wildfire, and there was a tremendous

fall in the Funds. Nathan's well-known public agents sold with the rest, more anxious than any to get rid of their stock; but Nathan's unknown agents bought every scrap of paper that was to be had, and did not cease buying until the evening of the following day. It was only on the afternoon of June 21 (nearly two days after the arrival of Nathan in England) that the news of the great battle and victory of Waterloo, and the complete overthrow of Napoleon, got known. Nathan, radiant with joy, was the first to inform his friends at the Stock Exchange of the happy event, spreading the news a quarter of an hour before it was given to the general public. Needless to say that the Funds rose faster than they had fallen, as soon as the official reports were published of the great battle of Waterloo, which enriched. the house of Rothschild by about £1,000,000 sterling, and laid the foundation of a European power in the financial world for the descendants of Meyer Ben Moses Amschel, the poor banker's clerk of Frankfort-on-the-Maine.

Another anecdote is recorded of this Nathan which will show the perils attached to the possession of such enormous wealth. On the occasion of his giving a grand banquet to a number of distinguished men, one of his guests observing the lavish display of wealth with which his table was groaning, made use of a very natural expression when exclaiming, "What a happy man, Baron, you must be!" "Happy man, did you say?" replied Rothschild. "How is it possible for any one to be happy on receiving such a missive as this just before sitting down to dinner?" And taking from his pocket a letter he showed his astonished guest its contents, which contained the modest request of a loan of £500, with the addition, "If you don't send it at once I'll blow your brains out!"

Money-making was the one pursuit and sole enjoyment of Nathan's life. When Louis Spohr, the great German musician, called on him in the summer of 1820 with a letter of introduction from his brother Amschel of Frankfort, he said to him, "I understand nothing of music. This "-patting his pocket, and rattling the loose coins. therein "this is my music, which we understand on 'Change." It was in the scramblings and fightings, the plots and tricks of money making, not at all in the spending, and not much in the hoarding of it, that his soul delighted. "I hope," said a dinner companion on one occasion, "I hope that your children are not too fond of money and business, to the exclusion of more important things. I am sure you would not wish that." "I am sure I would wish that," replied Nathan; "I wish them to give up mind and body, heart and soul to business. This is the way to be happy. It requires a deal of

caution to make a great fortune, and when you have got it, it requires ten times as much wit to keep it." Hence when two eminent clergymen, who took a warm interest in the Jews, called upon him with a view to induce him to aid in their restoration to Palestine, as his great wealth, it was thought, might influence the Sultan, Nathan declined, upon the all potent plea that "London was his Palestine, and that he could not further such an object in any way.”

On another occasion a German Prince visiting London brought letters of credit to the house of Rothschild. He was shown into the private room of the famous counting-house in St. Swithin's Lane, where Nathan sat absorbed with a heap of papers before him. The name being announced, Rothschild nodded, offered his visitor a chair, and then went on with the work before him. For this treatment the Prince, who expected that everything should give way to one of his rank and dignity, was not prepared. Standing a minute or two, he exclaimed, "Did you not hear, sir, who I am? repeating his titles at full length. "Oh, very well," exclaimed Nathan, with sly humour, "take two chairs then."

At another time two strangers were admitted into the same private room. They were tall foreigners, with beards and moustaches, such as were unknown in the City before the beard mania set in so powerfully as it has done of late; and Nathan was frightened at their appearance. He put his own interpretation upon the excited movements with which they fumbled about in their pockets; and before the expected pistols could be produced, he had thrown a great ledger in the direction of their heads, and brought in a bevy of clerks by his loud cries of "Murder!" The strangers were pinioned, and then, after long questionings and explanations, it appeared that they were wealthy bankers from the Continent who, nervous in the presence of a banker so much more wealthy than themselves, had found some difficulty in producing the letters of introduction with which they were armed!

A terrible anecdote of another sort is recorded of Nathan's son, the present head of the London house, and M.P. for the City. We all recollect the persistent way in which the electors returned him to Parliament for years before the Legislature threw open its doors to the long-despised Jew. At his first election, when on the hustings, he boasted that he stood there as the free choice of the people. “So stood Barabbas," deliberately exclaimed a deep, stern voice from the crowd-a sarcasm which, for its cruel vindictiveness, perhaps stands without a parallel.

The same intense spirit of money-making appears to have been