My life and loves Vol. 4 Read online

  At one moment he was discussing the raising of a loan of sixteen millions with Li Hung Chang on the security of the Chinese customs, and with him was Sir Robert Hart, the Englishman who knew more about China than any other living westerner. In Hooley's private room, one would meet Arthur du Cros who had more to do with the successful Dunlop promotion than any other member of his family, and who afterwards became a member of Parliament and was knighted, I believe, for this achievement: an alert, intelligent man, a good organizer, but intensely combative. In another room a nobleman who had come to sell Hooley the Prince's yacht Britannia; in still another room, a persuasive Spaniard, who appeared with the news that sugar had been made from sea water, and all he wanted was a million for the discovery. From room to room went Hooley, a rather tall, well-made man with black hair, black beard, black moustache, a long beaked Jewish nose, and long half-closed Jewish eyes, well dressed and always polite without a particle of "side," too earnestly busy to show any conceit. He told me at once that Broadley had been very useful to him and he hoped that I should be. I replied that I was quite willing to follow my friend Broadley's lead; and after two minutes' talk Hooley hurried away to another room.

  From that time on I went up to the Midland Grand Hotel practically twice a week, and soon became conversant with Hooley's financial methods and with many of Hooley's ideas. He certainly knew more about the value of land in England than any one I had ever seen, and he had a perfectly open mind for any and every scheme, and was most easy of access. In his bankruptcy two years afterwards, the official receiver proved that Hooley had made over six millions of hard cash in just these two years. Hooley himself always said that he had made a million and a half over the Dunlop promotion alone. His astounding success can only be explained by the fact that he was lifted on the most astonishing wave of prosperity that perhaps has ever been known in any country-never in my thirty years of residence has London known so prosperous a period; and Hooley was an optimist to the fingers' tips, suited perfectly to the time, without a suspicion that there could be a change in feeling or a slump in finance.

  When I got to know him pretty well, I found to my amazement that he had a man named Martin Rucker for a partner, who never helped him in any way; and it was months before I learned that Rucker had been a bicycle agent and had put some money in with Hooley at the very beginning and had remained with him as a sort of deadweight ever afterwards. It was he, in fact, who brought about Hooley's first fall.

  I soon got the idea that the best companies to promote would be those which had spent most in advertising in the past and were therefore widely known. I put this idea to Hooley, and he accepted it at once. "You ought to turn Bovril into a company," I said, "because every one knows of it and it would go like wildfire; and Schweppe's soda water, too."

  "Go to it," said Hooley; "get me an option on any such concern, bring it to me, and you can count on a fair deal."

  I immediately went to work to get to know the owners of Bovril: it was really in the hand of one person, a Mr. Johnson, I think. Coming from Hooley, I was admirably received and soon found that the company was making something over a hundred thousand pounds a year, and that they wanted a good deal over a million for it. I went with the news to Hooley, who told me to go ahead if the figures were correct. I returned and began to bargain; the seller wanted about a million and a half, and I wanted to bring him to a million and a quarter. We had practically decided on a million and three hundred and fifty thousand pounds, when one day he laughed at me and told me that he had accepted an offer of two millions that day, that it was all settled and that Hooley was the purchaser. I drove immediately to the Midland Grand Hotel to see Hooley and found it was all true.

  "You were too slow, my boy," he said, "much too slow: another man told me he could get it for two millions and I told him to put it through, and I gave him a check as deposit."

  "You have done me out of the ten percent which you promised me," I said,

  "because I was trying to get it under a million and a half, and it was practically settled."

  "Don't talk like that: " cried Hooley, "do you wish to show your brains? In that room there are twenty financiers, all rich men; you know more about Bovril than almost any one; you have been at it over a fortnight; go in and persuade them that two millions is a fair price and I will give you ten thousand at once.

  Is it a deal?"

  "I'll do my best," I said.

  Hooley opened the door and introduced me to a crowded room with the words, "Frank Harris has been looking into Bovril for a month, knows all about it, and is prepared to show you that two millions is a low price for it." A large man thrust himself forward at once, whom I afterwards knew as Nocton, a very able solicitor. "Have we the figures correct," he said, "that Bovril has never made one hundred and fifty thousand pounds in a year? If so, it ought to be capitalized at about a million and a half at the very outside. Why should two millions be given for it?"

  "The growth of the business in the last five years," I said, "since they began to advertise widely, has been most extraordinary: the income has more than doubled, has practically grown from fifty thousand a year to one hundred and forty thousand; it is only fair to suppose that it will grow in the same proportion in the next five years, and even more, for as a Hooley promotion it will be advertised everywhere and should therefore be cheap at three millions. Besides, it has no competitors and it has become a household name in Great Britain. Given a proper prospectus, every one will take shares in Bovril."

  "You are evidently the man to write it," said Nocton. And from that time we were friends, for Hooley backed up the idea at once.

  I got away as soon as possible, seeing that I was not wanted. In ten minutes Hooley came to me in another room. "You have done the trick, my boy; a cool million has been subscribed on my terms, and I owe you ten thousand. Will you have it in cash or shares?"

  "Half cash, half shares," I said.

  "Good for you," he said, and then and there wrote me a check for five thousand pounds and a note to say that I should have five thousand shares when the Bovril promotion was completed. While he was writing, another thought came into my head: "Why not let me sketch out the prospectus, as Nocton suggested?"

  "You are trenching on Broadley's domain," he said, "and I have almost promised it to someone else: still, there is five thousand pounds in it-go to it-if your argument is the best, you will probably get it."

  "Thanks," I said, and away I went.

  The greater part of my scheme appeared later as the Bovril prospectus. I had taken pains to study the law and to keep within it in every particular.

  I won't attempt to describe all my further financial ventures with Hooley; it is enough to say that I took a small part in several of his promotions, like the rest of his supporters. I would put in, say, five thousand pounds in cash, on condition that I got ten thousand in cash or shares if the deal came off successfully. I remember particularly taking such a share in the Schweppe promotion, which was not one of his great successes, and he left some three thousand pounds unpaid to me.

  His failure was astonishingly sudden. Martin Rucker, his partner, wanted to buy an estate and become a country gentleman, and finally settled with Hooley for a million pounds cash for his half share. Hooley gave him the million cash, although Broadley and I both protested that it was madness to strip himself of so great a sum in cash; but Hooley was not to be argued with or persuaded. He gave the million and Rucker was seen no more. But almost immediately the financial tide which had so far been on the flow began to ebb. Hooley involved himself in Manchester in the Trafford Park scheme, and suddenly became in need of cash: the banks, as usual scenting necessity, drew in their credits, and Hooley, though several times a millionaire on paper, was soon in financial difficulty.

  He explained all this to Broadley and myself at some length, and it occurred to me that I might be able to interest Beit in his schemes and so float Hooley over his difficulty. I went to Beit and talked the Trafford Par
k scheme at some length. It was really a great enterprise: Beit, seeing it, at once promised his support on conditions. "We will go in as partners," he said, "on an even footing; I will put up five hundred thousand pounds and so must Hooley, and the scheme shall be developed by him, and we will divide afterwards."

  Greatly excited, I hurried back to Hooley and told bun how I had succeeded; he too was delighted. We were to meet Beit on the following Monday for lunch at the Savoy Hotel, and the provisional partnership would then be concluded. But on the Thursday Hooley came to me and told me that he could only raise three hundred and fifty thousand pounds in cash, that his banks had refused him the other one hundred and fifty thousand, and therefore he would put up shares for double the amount. I begged him not to alter the agreement in any way; I felt certain that as soon as the cooperation was whispered, a dozen of Beit's friends would be dead against his participation with Hooley.

  Hooley went again to the banks and returned to me on the Saturday saying,

  "It is impossible; I can put up four hundred thousand, but the last one hundred thousand must be made up by shares."

  I begged him to use every effort, and he said that he had-it was impossible, so I went to the lunch with Beit alone to tell him Hooley's latest decision. The moment I described his position, Beit said, "That settles it; my partner has been terribly against the whole business. Wernher won't hear of Hooley, and now as I can get out without breaking my word, I won't go on."

  I went back and told Hooley and found him in a strange mood. He didn't care what happened; it didn't matter, for they couldn't take away his ability to make money. The Trafford Park scheme was the best in the world; he would work it through somehow: Beit's aid was not so important.

  "Beit," I said, "could put ten millions cash on the table if he wanted to; with his backing, you would have been the strongest financial force in England, that is to say, in the world today. I am very sorry."

  A little later Hooley announced coolly that he was going into bankruptcy. "It seems to me to be pure madness," I said to Broadley. But Hooley went on like a naughty child, who, having wet one toe by chance, would wade into the gutter to his neck. He made himself a bankrupt and shortly afterwards was sent to Brixton Prison for a year, apparently to teach him that to lose six million in England was a crime.

  Of course, he often exaggerated and talked wildly; it was part of the optimistic nature of the man and a consequence of his astonishing success; but I don't believe that Hooley ever tried to cheat any one dishonorably (sic) in his life. I have done business with a great many men in London, and think Hooley as honest, perhaps even more honorable, than most of the men I have worked with.

  When he came out of prison, I met him by chance in the Strand and of course held out my hand and greeted him as of old. "You know," he said, "I have just come out of Brixton?"

  "Yes," I replied, "but that doesn't alter my opinion of you. When will you dine with me?"

  He was very much obliged to me, he said, but he was going back to Risley Park, which he had settled on his wife after his Dunlop success. He told me that I was one of the few people who hadn't altered to him. Away he went, and I have not seen him since, though I understand that his book describing his career has been a best seller.

  One curious thing happened which tinged my liking for Hooley with a shade of doubt. Broadley declared that he was not fair to us, and I found out that that was the case. When I sent my claim in for the three thousand pounds unpaid over Schweppe's to the official receiver, I got a letter from him that made me gasp. He asked me to define the debt and how it had been incurred.

  I told him that I had put up five thousand pounds in the Schweppe promotion on Hooley's undertaking to pay ten thousand cash or shares, as I might decide after the promotion. I had received seven thousand in cash and no more. The official receiver answered me, saying that he was very sorry to question my word, but could I get any proof that I had put up the five thousand pounds. I went at once to my bank-Coutts's-got the original check endorsed by Hooley and took it to the official receiver in person and asked him for an explanation; I thought his request extraordinary. The moment he saw the check his manner altered; he became cordial. "You have no idea," he said. "I have got claims from a dozen journalists, but no one else except yourself helped Hooley with the cash. Here is Mr. So and So who is asking for twenty thousand, yet he never advanced a penny. Please forgive me if I thought that you were like the rest, claiming money without having risked any."

  The thought came to me afterwards that Hooley had misrepresented me, as Broadley said; but I imagine that it was only because he classed all journalists together in a lump. He was careless, but not malevolent.

  For some reason or other the Daily Mail was always against me, and in this matter of Hooley's bankruptcy it more than hinted that I was trying to get money without having done anything for it. Curiously enough, the result of the investigation of the official receiver cleared me and established the fact that the Daily Mail correspondent was one of those who had claimed money without having given any quid pro quo. Harry Marks, too, of the Financial News, was astonished to hear that I had put up money with Hooley.

  "I am claiming twenty thousand pounds from his estate," he said, "but I never gave him any money. He never asked me for it."

  Hooley's example taught me the value of company promoting, and I resolved sooner or later to market the twenty-odd thousand shares I still possessed in the Saturday Review.

  CHAPTER VII

  The South African war: Milner and Chamberlain; Kitchener and Roberts

  All these years, '97 and '98, in which I had sketched out my Shakespeare book and written half a dozen new stories, I had come more and more to feel that I must do my own work and that the drudgery of journalism was interfering with the real business of my life. The public spirit of the time, too, didn't please me. It was evident to me that Chamberlain was seeking to establish British authority, or as he would have said, British supremacy, in South Africa. At length came the news that Alfred Milner was appointed by Chamberlain as Governor General, and was to be sent out to the Cape with full authority.

  Ever since Harold Frederic introduced me to Alfred Milner, when we were all in the thirties, I had thought of him as the most perfect example of a modern German in mind that I had ever seen. Both in defects and in qualities, he was characteristically German and not English. For the German trusts reason and knows thoroughly what he has learned, while the best Englishman has a subconscious belief that there are instincts higher than reason, and he has never learned anything deeply enough to feel that he knows it as a master. These immature spiritual antennae are what makes the Englishman the tragic creature he often is in practical life, and the lovable person he is at his best; and their absence gives the German his supremacy in the present and forecasts perhaps his comparative failure in the future.

  Now Harold Frederic was a great friend of Milner, and he had told me a good deal about him and his imperialistic views. I became a little anxious and saw Beit on the matter, but he assured me there was nothing important afoot, and at the same time he wanted to know why I had not asked him to take any shares in the Saturday Review. I told him he could take five thousand whenever he pleased; and he took five thousand and gave me his check; others took shares too, especially when a dividend of five per cent was declared on the capital. I was on easy street as regards money, but still a little doubtful of the political situation, when Harold Frederic came and said he was giving a big dinner at the Savoy Hotel to Milner on his appointment to South Africa, and asked me to speak at the dinner. I said I should be glad to.

  Harold Frederic in his speech talked of Milner and himself as only a man of genius could talk. He spoke first of Milner's generous recognition of other men; how he had pressed work upon him and praised his writing enthusiastically; he gave this as a sign of kindness of heart, whereas in Milner it was merely the efficiency of the bureaucrat. Then he spoke of Milner's career.

  "From the first,
" he said, "at Oxford, even, the English had picked Milner out for a high position. He had had a German training and had won besides all sorts of scholastic honors at Oxford. We all knew when he arrived in London and became Stead's assistant on the Pall Mall Gazette that he was sure to come to honor, and all of us are glad now to congratulate him," for he's a jolly good fellow, and so forth.

  Milner said little or nothing, did not commit himself in any way, whereas I spoke with perfect frankness. I said that the Englishman who went out to South Africa with power and who brought the Boers and British to mutual trust and harmony would do great work; but such a heaven-sent diplomatist would have to show sympathy with the Boers from the very outset. The English, of course, would trust him; he should make it his first object to win the confidence of the Boers, who were naturally suspicious. The British Empire extended north of the Transvaal over the whole central plateau of Africa to Nairobi or to Khartoum, or, if you wished, to Cairo; surely from the Transvaal border to Khartoum was enough for British colonization in the next two hundred years.

  "There," I went on, "was the most fruitful land in the world, and the best climate in the world; and I think a great colonizing effort should be made, for all the unemployed in Britain might be established on that magnificent plateau and thus extend and consolidate the greatest empire on earth. The first essential to success," I insisted, "was to win the Boers by treating them fairly. They were not anti-English; they were, in spite of the war of 1880 and in spite of the Jameson Raid, inclined to be pro-English; and as soon as Krueger died the English colonists in the Transvaal would be accorded full citizen rights. The Boers would do this so much the quicker if the land to the north of the Transvaal were settled up by Englishmen. Why shouldn't the next colonial Governor be the Moses of this new Exodus? On the other hand, if the new Governor quarreled with the Boers and excited that dislike which lay so near ignorance, he might have a war on his hands that would sow evil broadcast and would retard the development, not only of South Africa, but also of Great Britain."