John seemed to be troubled to know what to do with his money, and it gave him more anxiety than he was ever blessed with during the days of his ox-driving experience. I believe he died after a year or so of this new life. It was too much for him; he could endure poverty, but he could not enjoy or endure such an accumulation of wealth.
There was a case similar to his of a young man growing suddenly rich through petroleum, who started on a riotous career, and managed to get heavily in debt. The wells gave out, and left him without money, and no prospect of obtaining any. In a year from the time of his becoming so suddenly wealthy, he was at work again as a day laborer, and meditating upon the uncertainties of life in the oil regions.
On one occasion an oil speculator came to New York with fifty thousand dollars or more in cash, and claiming that he had a flowing well yielding two hundred barrels a day. In less than a fortnight he had gambled away his money, sold his wells, and the last I saw of him he was on his way to the station-house for default of paying the amount of his hotel bill. He was kept there a short time, and then released. I believe the hotel never received anything from him.
A great many extravagances have been committed by the petroleum aristocracy. Persons suddenly raised from poverty to affluence are nearly always anxious to effect an entrance into society. They take fine houses, and sometimes they manage to get people of repute to visit them, though not often.
GETTING UP A PARTY.
Three or four years ago a family that had suddenly grown rich determined to give a party that should introduce them to society. They made preparations, and sent out a great many cards of invitation. They ignored their former acquaintances altogether. They selected the names of their guests from the City Directory, taking those that were prominent in the social world. They even pretended to an aristocratic descent, and I believe their card of invitation bore a crest of some sort or other.
The evening of the entertainment came. Madame, almost smothered in silks, with a large amount of store hair, and decked with diamonds enough to set up a jewelry store, was all ready to receive her guests. The daughters were in their best, and expected to make a dozen conquests apiece in the course of the evening. A magnificent supper had been prepared, and a troupe of servants were awaiting the commencement of their duties. Eight o’clock was the hour fixed for the party.
At eight o’clock there was not a guest in the house. “Surely,” said Madame, “they will be here very soon.” Half past eight o’clock came. Nobody. Nine o’clock. Nobody. Half past nine. Nobody; and then ten o’clock, and still Nobody. It was then the great truth stood revealed that the party was a failure.
The servants, who had been standing about with their tongues in their cheeks, were commissioned to eat what they could of the gorgeous banquet, and the aspirants to social honors smothered their sorrow, and made no more attempts, for that season at least, to get into society.