Another M.P. who sprung from the ranks was Mr. Joseph Cowen, who represented—as his son still represents—Newcastle-on-Tyne. Such was his integrity, and patriotism, and perseverance, that no man was more respected in parliament or out. Crowned with grey hairs, his tall, muscular frame, and big head, denoted a more than average amount of physical and mental strength. As a member of parliament, he was noted for the regularity of his attendance. In this respect he was unrivalled.
I have already written that the late Mr. Herbert Ingram, M.P., blacked the shoes of one of his constituents. He was born at Boston, in Lincolnshire, and was then apprenticed to one of his constituents. After completing the terms of his indenture, Mr. Ingram moved to Nottingham, where he carried on business as printer, bookseller, and news-agent. Whilst a newsvendor, he displayed, in a remarkable degree, that industry and perseverance for which he became distinguished in after-life. Two instances of his extraordinary attention to business may be cited. There was, amongst his customers, a gentleman who wanted his news very early, and Mr. Ingram, anxious that the gentleman should not be disappointed, walked five miles, and of course five miles back, to serve a single customer. On one occasion he got up at five in the morning, and travelled to London to get some copies of a paper because there was no post to bring them, and being determined that his customers should have the news. His industry had its reward, for he sold above 1,000 copies of that paper in Nottingham; and it was from his experience as a newsvendor, and in the sale of metropolitan prints, that he thought of the speculation which was destined to make his fortune. He used to notice that a very bad wood-cut in an old number of a newspaper would make it sell; and it occurred to him, that if he had a number of good engravings, and put them in a paper, they would be likely to make it sell. Accordingly, in May, 1842, an experiment was resolved on, and the first number of the Illustrated News made its appearance. His success was immense; but he had learned the secret of it from his experience in the humble and laborious calling of a newspaper vendor. Indeed, the very title of the new journal was suggested by the fact that the most illiterate of his customers had been in the habit of coming to ask him for the London news: they did not care what he sold them so long as he gave them the London news; and he wisely came to the conclusion, as that name suited the poorest class, it would suit all classes; and thus his sagacity reaped a rich reward, and he became a famous as well as a wealthy man. It is thus the House of Commons has become enriched by the brains of some of the most successful money-makers of their time.
CHAPTER X.
GEORGE MOORE, CITIZEN AND PHILANTHROPIST.
In 1825, a country lad arrived in London on the day before Good Friday. As he was born in 1806, he was about twenty years of age. He had served his apprenticeship with a linendraper at Wigton, where his master did not prosper, and the young man determined to come to London in search of a fortune. It was a wearisome ride then from Carlisle to London, and took the coaches at least a couple of days; but it is a long journey that has no end to it. In due time the coach reached the “Swan with Two Necks,” in Lad Lane, Wood Street, and, after paying the coachman, the young man from the country took up his residence at the “Magpie and Platter.” As may be supposed, he felt rather lonely, and did not know what to do with himself. He was too much fatigued, besides, to look after a situation; so on Good Friday, as he knew the Cumberland men held their annual wrestling match on that day, he made his way to Chelsea to observe the sports. When he arrived there he found a young Quaker friend from Torpenbow, who had won the belt at Keswick a few years before. The new-comer, inspired by the event, entered his name as a wrestler. He was described by some, who were present on the occasion, “as very strong-looking, middle-sized, with a broad chest, and strongly-developed muscles;” his hair was dark and curly, and almost black; his eyes were brown, and glowed under excitement to a deeper brown; his face was redolent of health. The new-comer “peeled” and stepped into the ring. The first man he came against was a little bigger than himself; but he threw him so cleverly, that the questions were asked on every side—“Who’s that?” “Where does he come from?” “What’s his name?” His name was soon known; and as he wrestled again, and threw his man, he was hailed with cries of, “Weel done.” Again he succeeded; and though beaten at length by a noted champion wrestler from Cumberland, the young man from the country was hailed as the winner of the third prize. His name was George Moore, and it was thus he made his débût in London in the year 1825. It is needless to say that he was recognised by his countrymen, and treated to drink. It was the wish that he should have another wrestling bout, and wagers were made on the subject; but to the credit of George Moore it must be stated, that when he saw some of the lads around him were taking more drink than was good for them, he made up his mind not to wrestle in the proposed match, and left his admirers indignant at his decision.
On his return, Moore learned that the inn—indeed, the very bed in which he had slept—had become notorious; for Thurtell, the well-known murderer, had been taken from it by the police some time before. Moore was horror-struck, and determined to seek fresh lodgings. He was fortunate in finding very suitable ones in Wood Street, and thence he set out to find a situation. It was hard work the search. People laughed at his north-country accent, and rustic air and clothes. In one day he entered as many as thirty linendrapers’ shops. “The keenest cut of all I got,” Moore used to say, “was from Mr. Charles Meeking, of Holborn. He asked me if I wanted a porter’s situation. This almost broke my heart.” Fortunately, Mr. Ray, of Flint, Ray, and Co., had heard of the arrival of the Cumberland lad; indeed, he had been looking out for him, and he offered Moore £30 a-year, which the latter gratefully accepted. At that time Moore gave no promise of being worth much more. His first appearance is thus described:—“On incidentally looking over to the haberdashery counter, I saw an uncouth, thick-set country lad, standing crying. In a minute or two a large deal chest, such as the Scotch servant-lasses use for their clothes, was brought in by a man and set down on the floor. After the lad had dried up his tears, the box was carried up-stairs to the bedroom where he was to sleep. After he had come down-stairs he began working, and he continued to be the hardest worker in the house until he left.”
The Moore family were not penniless. George Moore was not one of the men who came to London with half-a-crown, and with that half-a-crown swell out into Rothschilds. His father was a man of ancient descent, though of moderate means, and was one of the old Cumberland statesmen—a race of landed proprietors unfortunately fast vanishing away. His godfather left him a legacy of £100, and a hair-trunk studded with nails. His mother, who was a statesman’s daughter, died when he was six years old. At eight the boy was sent to school. The master was drunken and brutal, and naturally the school was unattractive. Under a new master, however, the lad did better. When twelve, his father sent him to a finishing school at Blennerhasset, and he remained there for a quarter, at an expense of eight shillings. “The master,” he adds, “was a good writer, and a superior man—indeed, a sort of genius. For the first time I felt that there was some use in learning, and then I began to feel how ignorant I was. However, I never swerved from my resolve to go away from home. I had no tastes in common with my brother. I felt that I could not hang about half idle, with no better prospect before me than of being a farm servant. So I determined that I would leave home at thirteen, and fight the battle of life for myself.” It was while an apprentice that this feeling strengthened and matured. Card-playing had been to him a snare; but he conquered the temptation, and became all the better for the struggle with inclination, which appears to have been sharp and severe.
But let us return to Moore’s London life. After he had been six months at Grafton House, one day Moore observed a bright little girl come tripping into the warehouse, accompanied by her mother. “Who are they?” he asked. “Why, don’t you know?” was the reply. “That’s the governor’s wife and daughter.” “Well,” said George, “if ever I marry, that girl shall be my wife;” and he kept his word.
In 1826, somewhat disgusted with the retail trade (especially as, owing to a mistake of his own, his integrity had been called in question by one of the customers, a lady of title), Moore entered the house of Fisher, Stroud, and Robinson, Watling Street, then the first lace-house in the City of London. His salary was to be £40 a-year, and he wrote word to his father that he was now a made man. How came this to be so? In the first place, Moore had earned a good character at Grafton House; and, secondly, Mr. Fisher, the head of the lace-house, was a Cumberland man. Provincial ties were stronger half a century back in London than they are now; but be that as it may, Moore had much to learn in his new place. He was inaccurate—he lacked briskness and promptitude. Mr. Fisher blamed his stupidity; he said he had seen many a stupid blockhead from Cumberland, but that he was the greatest of them all. This censure seems to have done Moore good. He set about educating himself. He was so ashamed of his ignorance, that he actually went into a night-school. It was at Fisher’s that Moore met with Mr. Crampton, afterwards his partner. The latter writes—“We became close companions. His friends were my friends, and so intimate were we, that I seemed to merge into a Cumberland lad. George was very patriotic. All our friends were Cumberlanders; and though I was a Yorkshireman, I was almost induced to feign that I was Cumberland too. I was gayer than he, and he never failed to tell me of my faults. He was a strong, round-shouldered fellow. He was very cheerful and very willing. He worked hard, and seemed to be bent on improvement; but in other respects he did not strike me as anything remarkable. Among the amusements which we attended together were the wrestling matches at St. John’s Wood. The principal match was held on Good Friday. One day we went to the wrestling-field, and George entered his name. The competitors drew lots. George’s antagonist was a Life-Guardsman, over six feet high. I think I see Moore’s smile now as he stood opposite the giant. The giant smiled too. Then they went at it gat hod, and George was soon gently laid on his back. By this time he was out of practice, and I don’t think he ever wrestled again. Besides, he was soon so full of work as to have little time for amusement.”
After this Mr. Moore became traveller to the firm, and excelled, not only in increasing the business of his employers, but in the shortness of time in which he performed his journeys. He used afterwards to remark, that it was the best testing-work for a young man before his promotion to places of greater trust. At the inns which he frequented he was regarded as a sort of hero. To show the energy with which he carried on his business, it may be mentioned that on one occasion he arrived in Manchester, and after unpacking his goods, he called upon his first customer. He was informed that one of his opponents had reached the town the day before, and would remain there for a day or two more. “Then,” said Moore, “it is no use wasting my time with my competitor before me.” He returned to his hotel, called some of his friends about him to help him repack his stock, drove off to Liverpool, commenced business next day, and secured the greater part of the orders before the arrival of his opponent. It was while travelling in Ireland that Moore met Groucock, then travelling for a rival firm. They had a keen fight for trade, and Moore succeeded in regaining a good deal of it for his own firm. Groucock, convinced of Moore’s value, offered him £500 a-year (he was only getting £150 from Fisher) to travel for his firm. Moore’s reply was, “I will be a servant for no other house than Fisher’s; the only condition on which I will leave him is a partnership.” At length Groucock gave way; and in 1830, at the age of twenty-three, Moore entered as partner in the firm of Groucock, Copestake, and Moore. The firm was originally established in 1825, and their first place of business was over a trunk-shop at No. 7, Cheapside. In 1834, the firm removed to Bow Churchyard. The capital contributed by George Moore was £670, supplied him by his father. His line was to travel for the firm, which he did with increased assiduity. Frequently he was up two nights in the week.
There are many amusing stories told of the way in which Moore got his orders. A draper in a Lancashire town refused to deal with him. The travellers at the hotel bet him five pounds that he could not get an order, and Moore started off. When the draper saw him entering the shop, he cried out, “All full, all full, Mr. Moore; I told you so before!” “Never mind,” said George, “you won’t object to a crack?” “Oh, no,” said the draper. They cracked about many things, and then George Moore, calling the draper’s attention to a new coat which he wore, asked what he thought of it? “It is a capital coat,” said the draper. “Yes; made in the best style, by a first-rate London tailor.” The draper looked at it again, and again admired it. “Why,” said George, “you are exactly my size; it’s quite new; I’ll sell it you.” “What’s the price?” “Twenty-five shillings.” “What? That’s very cheap.” “Yes, it’s a great bargain.” “Then I’ll buy it,” said the draper. George went back to his hotel, donned another suit, and sent the great bargain to the draper. George again calling, the draper offered to pay him. “No,” said George, “I’ll book it; you’ve opened an account.” Mr. Moore had sold the coat at a loss, but he was recouped by the £5 bet which he won, and he obtained an order besides. The draper afterwards became one of his best customers.