The Bar-rooms at Brantly; or, the Great Hotel Speculation

Front matter

I, Price Is., by post Is. 2d., NOT FOUND WANTING A TEMPERANCE TALE. BT THE REV. FERGUS FERGUSON, D.D. CONTENTS. -The Student at Home. II. —The Minister. III.— Dinner at the Manse. IV. — The Prison. V. — The Prisoners. VI. — A Lawyer's Party. VII.— The Artist. VIII.— The Good Physician. — IX. — The Minister Unmanned. X. — A Peculiar Initiation. XI. — A Good Templar's Funeral. XH. — A Trip to the Country. XIII.— The Trial. XIV.— The Presbytery Trial. XV.— Eastport— its Minister and Rector. XVI. — A Trophy of the Cause. XATII. — A Pecuhar Procession. XVIII. — A Week's Experience. XIX. — Forecasting the Future. Glasgow: Thomas D. Morison, London: AV. Tweedie & Co. OR THE GREAT HOTEL SPECULATION A TEMPERANCE TALE By T. S. ARTHUR Aitthor of "Ten Nights in a Bar-Room,' &c. LONDON HAMILTON, ADAMS, _- CO., PATERNOSTER ROW W. TWEEDIE & CO., STRAND GLASGOW : THOMAS D. MORISON. 1879. GLASGOW: PRINTED BY H. NISBET AND CO., ROPEWORK LANE. CONTENTS.

Conclusion, '- on THE GREAT HOTEL SPECULATION.

Chapter I. The

fountain inn. For over ten years there had not been in Brantly a single public-house in which hquor was sold. The town lay stretched along the Bedford turnpike, its neat white houses, with their green latticed blinds, and gardens filled with shrubbery and flowers, presenting an aspect of thrift and comfort. Tliere were a tannery, a saw mill, a large shoe factory, and an establishment for canning the fine fruits and vegetables with which the fertile neighbourhood abounded. Other industries added their measure of prosperity to the pleasant town. There being considerable travel along the Bedford 'pike, a pubUc-house was as necessary to the town as a post-office or blacksmith's shop, and in consequence there had always been a tavern in Brantly. But as the keeper of this house for the past ten years, a weU-to-do farmer named Jacob Grover, entertained a wholesome regard for the weU-heing and well-doing of his neigh bours, and honestly heheved that drinking liquor was not only a useless, but a very hurtful custom, no bar had been permitted at the " Fountain Inn."

Of course many of those who passed through Brantly, and were compeUed to stay at Grover's, grumbled when hquor was denied, but as the landlord was a pleasant, good humoured man, with plenty of exceUent cheer to offer, he had httle trouble in reconciling his guests to the privation. Indeed, spite of this lack of a har, the " Fountain Inn" was the favourite tavern on the Bed ford road. Many efforts had been made to induce Jacob Grover to dispense hquor to his guests, sometimes enforced by threats of opening a new tavern ; but he w^as not to he moved. He had set his foot down on that question, and no influence was strong enough to induce him to take it up. Neither the county jail nor the almshouse could point to a single inmate from Brantly, a fact that Jacob Grover rarely faded to use in the occasional arguments on the topic of liquor-selling which came up between him and some of the people who made his house their stopping place.

One day there alighted from the stage-coach, a man wearing a profusion of gold chains, diamond rings, and studs. He carried his head rather high, and had an air of vulgar importance. It was a cold, crisp day in November, and as he came into the office, with a breezy air and a stamping tread, he cried out in a voice that had in it more of command than requests — " A whisky punch, hot and strong, and be quick about it, landlord ! I'm ice to the very bones !" Now, Jacob Grover was an independent sort of a man, with aU his good humour, and never took any nonsense from his guests. To the courteous, he was courtesy itself; but the rude and aggressive met with httle favour or forbearance. " We don't have any whisky punches here, my friend," he answered, a slight ripple of disturbance in his voice.

" You don't ! " The man's smaU, grey eyes dilated, and the arch of his thin eyebrows bent strongly upward. " And pray, what have you then ? " " Good, strong coffee, smoking hot," returned the landlord, his voice steadier than when he last spoke. " Oh ! oh ! Tou keep a temperance house. That's it?" There was an expression of disgust on the stranger's face. " Tes, that's just it," answered Grover coolly, his large, steady eyes settling themselves upon his guest. " Faugh ! It won't suit me, then. I'U go to the other house." " All right, my friend. This is a free country," said the landlord, as the traveller turned away, looking angry and annoyed. " If you don't find yourself suited at the other house," he added, with a grim humour in his tone, "just come back here, and we'U do the best for you we can, saving the hot whisky punch."

An oath and a growl were the only response as the unhapj_y stranger went striding out of the room. " Where's the other tavern ? " he asked, roughly, of the stage-driver, who had just mounted Iris box and was getting up the reins. " Five miles ahead, at Watertown," was the reply. " No, no ! I don't mean that. The other tavern in Brantly," said the man impatiently. " There is no other tavern in Brantly," rephed the driver. "AVhat!" " It's just as I tell you. And if you're going to stop here, it's your only chance ; and a mighty good chance at that, if you did but know it — a chance that people who travel on this road don't get twice along the line." " A cursed, one-horse place ! " muttered the traveUer, as he turned from the driver, who threw his long whip lash out into the air, and then drew it in with a crack like that of a pistol, his horses springing away at the sound.

Jacob Grover stood calmly in the door as the stranger, with knit brows and a curling Up, jerked himself around and confronted him. " Hobson's choice, I find." His manner was as offensive as his words. He made a movement to enter, but the tavern keeper's sturdy frame blocked up the door. " Look here, sir, I'm not going to stand any non sense !" broke out the irritated stranger, his face growing fiery red. " Tou won't have any of that sort of thing to stand at Grover's," rephed the landlord, not moving from his position ; " we deal in good hard sense. And now, my friend, what is it you want ? " Even a savage dog knows the eye of a brave and fearless man, and cowers beneath its steady gaze. So cowered this excited stranger. " Tou keep a pubhc house ? " said he, fretfully, hut in a more respectful tone.

" I do." " Can I get a room for a day or so ? " " Tes, if you can put up with our accommodations, and at the same time Act in a becoming manner. We will do the best for you we can, but you must conduct yourself like a gentleman." The man's httle grey eyes shot out an angry gleam ; hut a depressing sense of his inferiority to the stalwart, self-poised landlord, and of his present dependence on his favour, made him repress all further signs of irri tation. Grover moved back from the door, and the stranger entered. He registered his name as Andrew Hyer, New Tork. " I can have a fire in my room, I suppose ? " he re marked, as he put his fingers to his mouth and breathed on them. "Certainly," and Grover rang a bell ; " we'U warm you up in a good Christian way, and you'U feel aU the better for it."

A waiter carne in answer to the bell. " Make a fire in Number 10 right away, Tom." "Tes, sh," and the man disappeared. " Walk into the parlour, sir. Tou'U find it warm there ; and as soon as your room is ready we'U let you know." With a half-sulky manner the stranger withdrew to the parlour, and seated himself before a grate in which a fire was burning. There was another inmate of the room, an elderly gentleman, who sat near one of the windows reading a newspaper. As the new comer entered, this person lifted his eyes and looked at him over his spectacles, curiously. " A miserable one-horse place ! " grumbled the stranger. " What did you remark, sir ? " inquired the old gentleman. " I remarked that this was a miserable one-horse place," responded the stranger, with an emphasis on every word.

" Do you mean the town or the tavern ?" " I don't know anything about the town ; hut if your tavern is a sample brick, I wouldn't give muoh for the town." " We Brantly folks set considerable store hy our tavern," said the old gentleman. " Tou do !" and the stranger gave a Uttle derisive laugh, at which the old gentleman dropped his news paper, and rising from his chair, walked slowly across the room, with his hands behind him. On reaching the grate he turned his back to the fire, and stood for a moment or two before speaking. Then he said — " AVhat's wrong about the tavern, my friend ?" " Can you get a drink if you want it ? A pubhc house I Faugh!" " Oh, that's your trouble ! I see." A smile Ut the old gentleman's face. " No, you can't get a drink if you want it ; but you'U find plenty of good eating, and a quiet, orderly, weU-kept house.

No idlers in your way, nor tipsy loungers to annoy you. Tou may be as comfortable at Grover's as in your own house." " Dry sort of comfort," responded Hyer, the growl dying out of his voice. The warmth of the room, and the pleasant manner of the old gentleman were be ginning to soften the asperities of his temper. " What kind of people hve here ?" he asked. " Very good kind of people ; sober, industrious, and thrifty. There is not a beggar nor a pauper in the township." " There isn't ?" the stranger lifted his eyebrows and looked incredulous. " Not one, sir! not one I" was the emphatic answer. " And that's something we Brantly people take pride in. No, sh- ; not a beggar nor a pauper ! " " Indeed !" The stranger did not appear to take much interest in the statement. " Do you imagine we could say this if our friend Grover here kept a bar ?"

"I'm sure I don't know — nor care much either," returned Hyer, half indifferently and hah rudely. " Well, I know, and care too," said the old gentle man, his pleasant manner giving way to one more serious. " Tou can't have bars and drinking-houses in any town or neighbourhood without making idlers and drunkards ; and pauperism foUows as a natural con sequence." " If a man wants hquor he'U get it," said Hyer. " He can't get what he can't find ; a fact that you seem to have discovered since your arrival in Brantly." " Tou don't mean to say that I can't get a glass of Uquor in this town ?" " Tou can't buy it in a tavern or dram-shop." " That may be ; but I'U get it for aU that, and as much as I want." " Where ?" The man shrugged his shoulders and looked knowing. " Tou've been here before ?" queried the old gentle man, his manner becoming graver.

The sphere of the stranger was beginning to repel him. " Never." " Are you acquainted with any one in Brantly ?" " Tes. Do you know a Mr Dennis Fithian ?" " Of the firm of Grubb & Fithian ?" " Tes. They can fruits and vegetables. I've often met Fithian in New Tork." " I know him very weU." " Nice sort of a man," said Hyer. " I like him." The old gentleman made no response ; but an observer would have seen a soberer expression settling in his face. " How far is his establishment from here ? " " Only a few hundred yards away." "It's large, I'm told?" " Tes ; we think it quite extensive." " Making money fast ? " " It is said so." Here a servant came into the parlour and informed Mr Andrew Hyer that his room was ready. " Don't hke that feUow," said the old gentleman, speaking to the landlord, who carne into the parlour as his guest was leaving it.

" Puts on airs ; but it won't do here," rephed Grover. " Had to take him down a peg." "Tou did?" "Tes." " He's acquainted with Fithian." "Did he say so?" " Tes. Has business with him, I infer." " Likely. Looks as if he might know Fithian." The old gentleman shrugged his shoulders. " D'you know," he said, " that I've a queer kind of feeling about this man. AVhat's his name ? " " Andrew Hyer — so he wrote it down." " WeU, as I was saying, I've a queer kind of feeling ahout this man — as ii his coming here wasn't for any good." " I don't fancy that it is ; at least so far as the man's intentions are involved. Such fellows rarely if ever intend good to any except themselves ; and good to themselves too often means ill to their neighbours." " I wonder what he wants with Fithian ? " " He's a clerk or partner in some New Tork house that deals in canned goods, I presume, and is here on business," returned the landlord, with an ahof indiffer ence strongly in contrast with the old gentleman's concerned and nervous manner.

And here let us say something about this old gentle man. His name is Percy Norman ; and he has hved in Brantly for over forty years. He is a character in his way, and his life runs in a groove out of which it is rarely throvn. He came to Brantly when he was twenty-one years of age, and opened a smaU country store in the then insignificant viUage, which did not number a hundred houses aU told. There were two remarkable things about his Uttle store ; one was the exceUent quality and great variety of the goods which were kept for sale, and the other the absence of aU kinds of distilled or fermented liquors. There was no httle stir and talk in the viUage when the fact became knowi that neither whisky, rum, gin, brandy, wine, nor heer could be bought at the new store. Some said that the tling was perfectly absurd, and that young Norman woulc never succeed ; whUe others, who saw and deplo-ed the habit of drinking, which was seriously hurtiig the neighbourhood, ranged themselves on his side, ;alked of him approvingly, and bought of him aU they leeded.

Tie keeper of the old viUage store had been for some years previous to this rather too good a customer for the liquffs which he kept for sale. Neglect of business, thriflessness, and indifference to the wants of his customers came as a consequence ; and it was not long afte: the new store opened, with its attractive appear anci, great variety of goods, and novelties never seen in Brantly untU now, ere young Norman had more than two-thirds of aU the trade, and his neighbour found httle to do except in the way of drawing pints and quarts of sphits for those who bought their dry goods and groceries from his rival and their hquor from him. And what made it worse was that too many of these customers ran up accounts which they did not settle as promptly as he could wish. The result was a closing out, before the end of the first year, of aU his general business, and the reduction of his place to a drinking-house — or mere dram-shop.

In the meantime, a sentiment in favour of temperance had been slowly but steadily gaining ground. It was because of his deep convictions touching the evUs of intemperance that Percy Norman had set his face against the liquor traffic in aU its forms ; and having read and reflected much upon the subject, le was able, in any of the numerous discussions into wnich he was naturally drawn, to express leading and enlightened views, and to give a healthy direction to pubUc thought and feeling. Steadily grew the party of temperance in Brantly until, on the death, from apoplexy after a fit of drunkenness, of the only man in the town who sold hquor, it was influential enough to banish the trade from their midst. This did not occur, however, until five years after Norman came into the plaœ, nor untU there had been many sad evidences of the curse drink was laying upon the viUage and neigibour hood.

Things had been running down sadly with certiin of the denizens of Brantly up to the time of this ciange in the order of affairs. Half-a-dozen men, on«e in dustrious, and good providers for theh families, had become sots, and thenwives and chUdren reduied to want and misery. Not content with eschewing evil work himself, Norman had tried to reclaim the men whom another's evil work had injured ; hut his efforts were vain so long as his neighbour set temptatim in their way. But when temptation was removed the task was easier. There were some who would have liiuor, if they sent for it to the next town, or walked hree miles to the nearest tavern on the road. StUl, here were many in Brantly, especiaUy among the yoiths and young men, with whom appetite was not yet cbminant, who ceased to use intoxicating drinks after its sale in their midst was stopped.

Percy Norman was a philanthropist. His thought was always going out to his neighbour, and seeking for ways to do him good. He was diligent in his business, and prospered therein because of his diligence ; but he differed from most of those around him in this, that he never lost sight of his neighbour's welfare while seeking his own. In aU his transactions he was so rigidly just, that the people who dealt with him soon learned to regard theh interests as entirely safe in his hands. So, in this very justice, which had as much regard for his neighbour as for himself, Norman found an element of prosperity. Even those who would have overreached, and so cheated him in a bargain had the opportunity been given, felt it safer to deal with him than with most other men, because they were sure that no advantage would be taken, and therefore gave him thencustom, and sweUed the tide of his prosperity.

In the course of time Percy Norman began to grow rich. As a good citizen, he felt it to be his duty to invest his steadUy accumulating wealth in ways that should benefit the town and his neighbours as weU as himself. He had become identified with Brantly, and regarded it as something more than a place in which money was to be made. He gave liberally for the building of churches ; for a town hall ; and for the establishment of a young men's hbrary and reading room. But the work to which he devoted himself most earnestly, as his means grew larger, was the erection of comfortable dwellings for the poor and industrious people of the town. He bought two acres of ground, fronting on the principal street, and running back to a stream that skirted the viUage on one side, laying it out into streets and building lots, and planting it with shade trees.

On a portion of this, in starting his enterprise, he built ten smaU, but neat and convenient houses, suitable for working men's families. These he sold to sober and industrious men of honest reputation, to be paid for in smaU monthly instalments, that were but httle larger than the rent they had been paying for meaner tenements. The time given for the payment of the entire purchase money was ten years, in order that the monthly instalments might be as light and as httle burdensome to the poor families as possible. Equitable provision was made in the title deeds for forfeitures and reclamations, where, from any causes, the purchasers of these houses fafled to meet the required conditions. After the lapse of two years, the success of his scheme was so clearly demonstrated that Mr Norman put up ten more dwellings, aU of which found purchasers on his easy terms.

Thirty houses were in due time built on this lot of ground. It cannot be said that the kind hearted man who, in the investment of his money, looked as weU to the good of his neighbour as to his own profit, met with no ingratitude, trouble, or dishonest efforts to rob him of what was justly his own. But Mr Norman understood human nature, and was not only wise and forbearing, but firm and decided in his deal ings with those who sought to do him wrong. A good and just man, he was far from being weak or vacillating, as aU those who set themselves to do him evfl found sooner or later to theh cost. At the time our story opens, Mr Norman was over sixty years of age, a bachelor, and out of active business ; though he still retained an interest in the large store of which he had once been the owner, and which was now in the hands of two young men whom he had raised, and with whom he had left a considerable amount of capital.

His chief occupation consisted in looking after the interests of Brantly, with which he had now become almost as completely identified as if the entire ownership of the place were vested in himself; and as he was the richest man in the whole townsnip, most people were inclined to let him have his way. The exceptions were chiefly among those who cared so httle for any but themselves that they did not scruple to do things hurtful or annoying to others, if gain were to be acquired thereby ; and as Mr Norman kept a sharp look-out on the doings of these people, and did not hesitate about interfering with them, it is not at aU surprising that they held him in disfavour. A few times smaU drinking-kouses had been opened, and determined efforts made to set flowing in Brantly the fiery stream of ruin ; but Mr Noraian's influence was potent enough to arrest the evU ahnost in its very beginning.

Thus for over thirty years, with only occasional inroads of the enemy, the town had maintained its hostUe attitude towards aU forms of intemperance. It was now just ten years since the last of these attempts to establish and maintain a drinking-saloon was made by a man named Dennis Fithian. This man had saved a few hundred doUars out of his salary as clerk in a store, and being a smart young feUow and ambitious to get ahead in the world — and withal desti tute of any scruple as to the means — he resolved to take the shortest road to prosperity that lay before him. What better investment of his money could he make, what quicker or surer return was to be had, than in a drinking-bar ? As for pubhc sentiment, he took httle account of that. " Nobody cares for me," he said, " and why should I care for anybody ?

It's every man for himself in this world, and I'm going to look after Number 1." But he kept his own counsel, knowing that, if his intentions were disclosed, great excitement would foUow, and a vigorous effort he made to turn him from his pur pose or to hinder him in its accomplishment. Not until he had leased a house and commenced fitting it up did his purpose transpire. Among the first to see him and to endeavour to influence him was Mr Norman. But Fithian was prepared for every argument and for the strongest opposition. Against his " Nobody cares for me, and why should I care for anybody ?" Mr Norman set his considerations of moral responsibility in vain. " People needn't drink if they don't want to. I shaU not force any one." With speech like this he held doggedly to his resolution, and went on fitting up his place and getting in his stock of liquors.

The excitement, anxiety, and distress of Mr Norman were very great. He could rest neither night nor day, and left no influence untried on Fithian up to the very hour that he opened his saloon and offered the people of Brantly a free lunch, and for that particular occasion free drinks into the bargain. For just one month the doors of Fithian's saloon were opened ; but he had miscalculated as to the extent of his patronage. Mr Norman's influence with the people, young and old, was greater than he had imagined. Finding that he could not turn the man from his pur pose, Mr Norman's next effort was with the men and I boys on whom Fithian counted for support in his new business. A visit was made to every man and woman in town, and every possible consideration urged against any countenance whatever of this effort to make gain out of the hurt of the people.

In this he was so successful that, at the end of the first week, Fithian had not put as much money into his till as would pay his rent for the time the saloon had been open.

Chapter II. The Enemy Foiled

The young saloon-keeper was sitting behind his bar on the morning that opened the second week of his new enterprise, feeling dull and discouraged, when a lad came in and handed him a note. It was from Mr Norman, and contained a request that he would caU and see him, as he had something to communicate which he beheved would be to his advantage. Fithian growled an ill-natured consent to the lad as he crumpled the note in his hand. An hour afterwards, he entered the office of Mr Norman, assuming as he did so a half indifferent, half defiant ah. The old gentleman received him kindly, but with a grave and serious manner. " If I am rightly informed," he said, after Fithian," awkward and UI at ease, had taken the chair to which he pointed him, " this wretched business is not proving as successful as you had hoped."

" It will aU come out right ; I am not in the least afraid," repUed the young man, with forced confidence. " It can never come out right, my young friend, never!" was the emphatic response of Mr Norman; " and of aU who are concerned, you should be most afraid." " Of what?" asked Fithian, a slight curve of con tempt giving his coarse mouth a still more repulsive expression than the one it usually wore. " The injury and loss that will surely come to your self if you go on with this business ; for it is a law of our moral hfe, that in every attempt we deliberately make to serve ourselves through hurt to the neighbour, we incur a heavier loss and sadder consequences than THB ENEMY FOILED. 21 we inflict upon others. The good God may soften the blow we strike at another : but not the rebound upon ourselves."

A stohd expression came into the young man's face. It was almost an unknown tongue in which Mr Norman was speaking to him. " I'll take aU that sort of risk," he answered, after an effort had been made to get a httle hght into his mind. " What I'm trying for now is to get a start in the world. 11 I don't help myself, there'U be none to help me. Clerking it at three or four hundred doUars a year doesn't suit Dennis Fithian. There's a faster way to get money, and he is bound to find it." " Tour present adventure doesn't seem to he over promising," said Mr Norman. " It's in the right direction, and is sure to come out right. Patience and perseverance are aU that are required." "It is my opinion that your patience and persever ance will have a long and severe trial. I have hved here for over thirty years, and my heart is bound up in the weU-being of the people.

I know that nothing can hurt them like intemperance ; that it is the most dreadful curse that can faU upon any community. To save them from it, I will spend my money, my time, and my influence. I shaU have to regard you as an enemy to the common good, and treat you as an enemy. I shaU have to do aU in my power to obstruct your business, and to hreak it down. I know every man, woman, and chUd in Brantly, and I warn you, that while your doors stand open, and you seek to entice the weak and unwary to enter the road that leads to de struction, I shaU not cease day nor night in my efforts to hold them away, and to give such a direction to pubhc sentiment that aU men wUl come to regard and treat you as their common enemy." In spite of his efforts to seem indifferent, the face of young Fithian lost its colour, and his mouth shut closely with a hard, angry, troubled expression.