Ernest Milman; a tale of Manchester life

Chapter I

" You have called about your son, I presume, Mrs. Milman," said Mr. Brownlow, addressing a lady who had for some time been waiting to see him, but to whom he had been unable to attend before. "I mentioned your application to my partner, and we have agreed to take — let me see — what is his name?" " Ernest," said Mrs. Milman. " Ernest — yes, Ernest. The name had escaped my memory. Well, we have agreed B to take Ernest — although we are not at pre sent in want of an apprentice, being quite full. Still, as you appear so desirous to place your son with us, we have decided to take him upon the usual terms ; namely, an ap prenticeship for five years, at — unlike some houses we do not require a premium — an annual salary of five, ten, fifteen, twenty, and twenty-five pounds, for each year res pectively.

Does this meet your views, Madam ?" " It does, Mr. Brownlow ; and I thank you for your kindness," replied Mrs. Milman. " And what have you got to say about this arrangement, young sir ?" continued the eager merchant, turning to, and addressing, the quiet and grave-looking Ernest; who, whilst listening attentively to all that had passed between Mr. Brownlow and his mother, had been studying the countenance of his future master, and wondering why he could not speak in a quieter tone, and keep still, instead of fidgetting restlessly about, putting his hands into his pockets, then tak ing them out again, and so on. " Do you think that you will like business ? Are you ready to begin working hard, very hard, far harder than you used to do at school ? Are you prepared to devote yourself wholly, en tirely to business ?

Have you made up your mind to exert yourself to the uttermost in order to discharge to our satisfaction the duties that we shall entrust to you ? If such be not your determination, this is not the place for you. What do you say, sir ?" " I say, Mr. Brownlow," replied Ernest, now speaking for the first time, " that I will try my very, very best to please you ; and if I do not succeed, it shall not be for want of trying, at any rate. I cannot say more, sir." " You cannot, my boy ; you cannot. Act as you speak, and we shall get on well together. Energy, attention, industry, these things make the man of business. Cultivate them, Ernest, and you are sure to rise — to get on. Neglect them, and you will sink into a machine, a drudge, or perhaps some thing worse. " It is our custom," continued Mr. Brown low, turning to Mrs. Milman, " to draw out b2 an agreement, when we engage an apprentice, stating the terms on which we take him, the number of years over which the engagement extends, and the nature of the instruction that we purpose affording him, in return for services rendered for a term of years, at what is in reality only a no minal salary.

It is merely a written paper, signed by the engaging parties, nothing legally binding about it, simply a matter of form. You would not object, I presume, to sign such an agreement? " Certainly not," said Mrs. Milman. "Nor you, Ernest?" " No, sir. " Very well ; then if you will sit down for a few minutes, Mrs. Milman, I will draw up the form, which will only require our respective signatures to be binding in honour, though not in law ; and after I have read it over, Ernest can make out a copy, which you can take home with you." For five minutes or so, no sound was heard in the counting-house, save the scratch ing of the quill-pen on the paper, which Mr. Brownlow speedily covered with a blotched mass of hieroglyphics, and from which, when he had finished writing, he read as follows : " Memorandum of agreement between Brownlow and Stanton, of Manchester, in the first part, Mrs. Anne Milman, in the second part, and Ernest Milman, her son, in the third part.

" That Brownlow and Stanton agree to take Ernest Milman as their apprentice, as a Manchester Warehouseman, for the term of five years, on the following terms ; viz. That Brownlow and Stanton agree to pay Ernest Milman £5 for the first year, £'10 for the second, £15 for the third, £20 for the fourth, and £25 for the fifth year, res pectively ; and that during the said term, Mrs. Anne Milman agrees to find her son board and residence, also clothes suitable for his occupation ; and Brownlow and Stanton agree to teach the said apprentice in all matters and things pertaining to their business as Manchester Warehousemen, which are necessary to make the said apprentice a good man of business. As witness our hands, this 10th day of October, 1848." " This is our usual mode of drawing up the agreement, Mrs. Milman ; but if you have any suggestion to make, any objection to raise against the wording of the sentences, or any desire to insert additional clauses, pray state your wish, and I will endeavour to recompose it in a manner more satisfactory to you."

" Thank you, Mr. Brownlow ; but I do not think that it could be better," replied Mrs. Milman. " Nothing is omitted that I should wish to have put in ; neither is any thing inserted that does not in every way meet with my approval. You are satisfied, are you not, Ernest?" turning to her son. " Quite so," replied Ernest. " And ready to sign this paper, binding yourself to serve Messrs. Brownlow and Stanton well and faithfully for five years, at the salary named ?" " Quite ready," Mamma. " Then I think," continued Mrs. Milman again addressing Mr. Brownlow, " that as the mode of drawing-up the agreement is perfectly satisfactory to all parties concerned, we may as well affix our signatures at once." " Very well, madam ; I will sign first, then you, and afterwards your son." Accordingly, after Mr. Brownlow had yvith his stick-like quill-pen appended the imposing signature of Brownlow and Stan ton to the almost illegible document, Mrs. Milman wrote, in her sharp-pointed lady like hand, Anne Milman; and beneath that again was traced, in neat, round, carefully formed characters, the name of Ernest Mil man.

" There, sir," said Mr. Brownlow to Er nest, as, after looking about in vain for a penwiper, he laid down his wet pen on the ink-stained desk ; " you have taken the first step in life — you have by your own act and deed bound yourself to us for five years, to do whatever we order you. As far as we are concerned, you will never have cause to regret this. We shall require you to do no thing but what is just and reasonable, and what all who are now, or have ever been engaged in our service, have been obliged to do in their turns. If you strive to serve us to the best of your ability, if you execute carefully, and with expedition, the commis sions with which you may be charged ; if you endeavour, instead of lolling and loung ing about, like the majority of young men, to acquire a knowledge of the business, and to become, as it is expressed in the agreement which you have just signed, an efficient man of business ; then, if, during the whole of your apprenticeship, you have always striven to make our interests your own, we shall be able and willing to give you a good salary, and one that will increase in propor tion as you make yourself valuable to us.

A young man who has always conducted himself well, and who has by industry and attention acquired a first-rate knowledge of business, and made himself so useful to his employers, that they cannot possibly do with out him, is in a position to command almost any salary that he may think proper to ask. Therefore, Ernest, be steady, be industrious, be attentive, and you will as surely rise to a high and responsible position, as — as it is certain that you stand in this counting-house. You know the old proverb, Ernest — Industry merits reward — and it gets it too, remember that." " I will remember it, sir," said Ernest, speaking in an unusually animated tone ; for Mr. Brownlow's words had already caused bright hopes of the future to spring up in his youthful breast. " I will remember it, and I will, by un wearied attention to business, deserve the reward that the proverb you have quoted says industry merits ; and that you say you are ready and willing to give to those whose conduct has always been blameless, and whose energies have for years been directed to the advancement of your interests."

" You will not find us backward in ful filling our promises," said Mr. Brownlow, speaking, however, in a colder tone than that in which he had hitherto addressed Ernest ; for the bearing of the youth, and the fearless manner in which he had avowed his inten tion of deserving the promotion so temptingly held out to him, had caused misgivings, as to his ability to crush down the self-reliant spirit of his new apprentice, to rise in the despotic mind of the hitherto unthwarted merchant. " Deserve advancement, and we shall advance you ; your prospects for the future depend entirely upon yourself." " And now you must excuse me, Mrs. Milman, as I have other matters to attend to. All our business is, I think, settled. You took a copy of the agreement, did you not, Ernest ?" " I did, sir. " Very good — then I will say good morn ing, Mrs. Milman.

You will be here on Mon day morning, at half-past eight, Ernest." " I will sir, punctually." " Good morning then, good morning !" And the rich and prosperous merchant bowed out the friendless widow and her fatherless son. Mr. Brownlow, as soon as they were gone, sat down on his stool, saying to him self; humph! — well, kind words and fair promises cost nothing, at all events — that is a comfort. That lad took me up rather suddenly ; but he will at the end of five years have forgotten all that I have this morning said to him. If he has not done so, but re minds me of the promises of advancement that I made him, and calls upon me to make them good, why — I'll dismiss him, that's all. And having formed this charitable determination, the merchant turned round to his desk and re-commenced writing.

Chapter II

Mrs. Milman and Ernest left Mr. Brownlow's office, thinking that the rich and prosperous trader was a generous and kind-hearted man. The fond mother imagined that her son would inevitably rise to a high position, and that, at the end of his apprenticeship, his employers would offer him a handsome salary; for had not Mr. Brownlow said that if Ernest devoted all his energies to the promotion of the firm's interests, the remuneration that he would receive would be regulated by the nature of the services rendered ? Had he not also told them, that if Ernest exerted himself to acquire a first-rate knowledge of business, he would be in a position to demand almost any salary ? And Ernest would exert him self, there was no doubt of that ; he would work, toil, struggle on for years, and at the end of the long apprenticeship would be a good man of business, and could call upon the merchants he had served so well, to make good their promises and to reward him as he deserved.

And would they not do so ? Mr. Brownlow had said that they would. He was a gentleman and a man of honour, whose word was his bond. On 'Change he stood high — very high. He was looked up to by his brother merchants; and, on all business questions, was regarded as an au thority. Oh ! it was a capital place for Ernest ; he could not possibly have met with anything better. " You like the idea of going to Brown low and Stanton's ; do you not, Ernest dear V said the musing parent, now speak ing aloud, and addressing her thoughtful son. " Yes, mamma ; I think that I shall like it," replied he, gravely, " pretty well at least. It will seem strange at first, you know ; but in time I shall get accustomed to the bustle and the noise ; and Mr. Brownlow speaks so kindly, and holds out such bright pros pects! does not he mamma?"

" He does indeed, Ernest," replied Mrs. Milman. " And my boy will, I am sure, do his best to please him, and exert himself to deserve the promised reward." " If I have life, and health, and strength, mamma, I will give satisfaction to my em ployers ; and, in studying to promote their interests, will advance my own." " How high you may raise yourself, Ernest, by your own exertions, it is impossible to say," said the pleased mother. " Neither Mr. Brownlow nor Mr. Stanton have sons of their own ; and you may, in the course of years, be made a partner — who knows?" " As I said to Mr. Brownlow, mamma, I will do my very, very best. I will work on, on, on, always looking ahead ; difficulties shall not daunt me ; disappointments shall not cause me to waver in my onward course. If I fail in endeavouring to obtain wealth and position, it shall not be for want of striving, at any rate, mamma."

" He who helps himself, Ernest dear, God will help," said Mrs. Milman. " May He who watches over and provides for the widow and the fatherless, guide, protect, comfort, and support you, my son — my all !" " He will, mamma, He will," said Ernest, deeply moved. " With a Heavenly Father and an angel mother, what need I fear ? The husband of Mrs. Milman, and the father of Ernest, had been, up to the period of his death, engaged in commercial pur suits. For five and twenty years he had toiled on, hopefully looking forward to the day on which, after having by his own ex ertions secured a competency, he might retire altogether from business, and remove to his native village, there to spend the re mainder of his days amid the less-exciting scenes of country life. About two years before the period at which our tale commences, Mr. Milman, having amassed a considerable fortune, began to make arrangements for withdrawing from the firm, in which, for many years, he had been a partner.

Before, however, finally winding up his affairs, an opportunity pre sented itself, by seizing which it appeared more than probable that he might make a considerable addition to the wealth that he had already accumulated. The spirit of enterprise which more or less exists in the breast of every good man of business, prompted him to engage in this seemingly safe speculation ; whilst his more cautious nature warned him that he had already money enough — why need he try to get more ? However, the undertaking seemed so perfectly safe, and likely to be so extremely profitable, that he could not resist the temp tation of investing in it a considerable por tion of his hard-earned wealth, fondly ima gining, poor fellow, that he would receive it all back again, and a large sum 6f money in addition. Such was not to be the case, however.

The bubble — for the whole affair was a com plete bubble — burst. The whole of the fortune (for the surplus money had been lent to a friend, by whom it had, unknown to the lender, been risked in the same speculation) ; the whole of the fortune amassed in five and twenty long years, the fruit of toil, labour, and anxiety, was swept away, and Mr. Milman was ruined — utterly, irretrievably ruined. The blow was too much for him. He staggered under it, sickened, and died, leaving his wife and son totally unprovided for. Unprovided for! The reader who has never known adversity is incapable of under standing fully what these words mean. The chill feeling of utter desolation that sweeps over the soul, when you hear that you are penniless and know not where to turn for help, is unknown to him. He imagines that the persons left unprovided for, will have to give up their carriage, will have to move to a smaller house, will have to econo mise, and to deny themselves certain luxuries c to which, in their more prosperous days, they had been accustomed.

He supposes that they will not have so much money to spend, and that, therefore, they will not be able to live in the same style, to dress so well, or to give such good dinner and dancing parties. But he cannot conceive that "unprovided for " means that the persons who have ex perienced such a reverse of fortune will soon be houseless, breadless, friendless, un less something totally unexpected happens, or unless the family, over whom the black mantle of poverty has fallen, can see a way in which, by their united exertions, an honest livelihood may be obtained. Never having known practically the meaning of the word poverty, he cannot for a single moment picture to himself the misery, the strug gling, the vain endeavour to make both ends meet, the heart-sinking, and the black despair, which have been experienced in all their intense bitterness by those who have felt what it is to be poor, and who have known adversity in its sternest, truest, most unattractive form.

For some weeks after her husband's death, Mrs. Milman was utterly incapable of exertion ; but, on recovering from the griefcaused stupor into which she had fallen, the necessity of entering upon some course of life, by which a livelihood for herself and for her son might be obtained, presented itself to her view. Work she must ; but what could she do ? Keep a school ! There were already in the neighbourhood in which she lived, more schools than were required ; and to commence one, or rather to endeavour to commence one, in a district in which she was unknown, would be the height of folly. No ; a school was out of the question. Companion to a lady ! What then would become of her son ? He was too young to go to business; besides, he would require a home, where a loving mother would watch over and tend him, as none but a mother could or would do.

A repository, or shop, for the sale of fancy work, Berlin wools, &c. and a circulating library — all in one ! There were already five such places — four too many. c After thinking, reflecting, and thinking again, the only thing that she could do ap peared to be, to take lodgers — the most harassing and anxiety-causing employment in which a destitute woman can possibly engage. But there was no help for it. Ernest must be fed and clothed as well as herself; and, with nerves braced up and with a hopeful heart, she commenced her life anew. So different was it from what she had always been accustomed to, that frequently she cried for hours, whilst Ernest was at school, after having met with annoyances and insults from people whom she felt to be so immeasurably inferior to herself ; but who, having money, thought themselves privileged to act in any manner that they thought proper.

Such persons are to be detested, to be despised, to be spurned ; for in their narrow minds there dwells not a spark of fine feeling, and no true-hearted man can respect or esteem that being who takes advantage of a widow's helplessness to lord it over, to browbeat, and to insult her. Such people, despicable, little-minded, mean, do exist, and ought to be regarded by every right-thinking man with loathing and detestation ; for a widow has always a claim upon the man calling himself a gentleman, and he who refuses to acknowledge that claim, is fit only for the society of cravens and unmanly beings, who know not the name of honour, and in whose breasts there lurks not a feeling or an emotion beyond those experienced by brute beasts. For two long, weary years had Mrs. Milman dragged on her existence, bravely fighting against annoyances, and bearing up under disappointments numerous and severe enough to have entirely crushed the spirit out of an ordinary woman, but which served only to rouse up Mrs. Milman, and stimulate her to still greater exertions.

It is true that she had sometimes fits of despondency, and that occasionally she almost despaired of ever emerging from the state of poverty into which she had fallen ; but these feelings were only transitory, and passed away when Ernest returned from school, and, throwing his arms around his mother's neck, told her how he had taken the first place in his class — and how he had been praised by the master for the correct manner in which his exercise had been composed, and the neatness with which it had been written — and how hard he intended to work for the prize which Mr. Monton had promised to the boy who had been most diligent in his studies during the half-year. As the fond mother gazed upon her boy — her earthly all — the cloud that had hung over her spirit passed away, and the sunlight ofjoy illumed her pale, and, before his com ing, sad face.

And could she help, as she looked at the bright, intelligent, upturned countenance, prophesying for the industrious, studious boy, a career prosperous and honourable to himself, and gratifying to her who had watched over him so anxiously from the first moment that he drew breath? She could not help it ; — what mother could ? In the presence of her darling son, all her troubles were forgotten, and all her disagreeables made light of; for, were they not endured for his sake ? It is said that a mother can undergo anything for her children, and it is true; for her love is boundless, illimitable, inex haustible. Truly there is no love like the love of a mother. When Ernest, at the age of fourteen, left school, Mrs. Milman, who had for some time been looking about for a situation for him, applied to Mr. Brownlow, with whom her husband had been acquainted ; and the result was, that that gentleman engaged him for a term of years, as we have already seen.

This was almost more than Mrs. Milman had dared to hope. Her son had taken, as she imagined, the first step on the high-road to fortune. The future looked bright and promising, and the hardships of the present time would therefore be easier to bear. Hope ! — what a freshness does it fling over what has hitherto been dark and dreary, and with what beauty does it invest things that, without it, would be so unattractive — so wretchedly burdensome. Mother and son hoped — hoped separately — hoped together ; and the future with its fair prospects seemed all the brighter, be cause the past had been so dark and so un speakably sorrow-fraught. The history of Mr. Brownlow can be told in a few words. He came — a strong, country lad — to Manchester, ready to do anything. He pro cured a situation in a warehouse, and rose from one thing to another, until he became a traveller.

He succeeded in getting to gether a connection, and, at the age of twenty-seven, entered into business on his own account, in partnership with Mr. Stan ton. By daily, hourly attention to business, and by the exercise of commercial shrewd ness, they made money, and took a high place amongst the Manchester merchants. In 1848, when Ernest Milman entered their service, they had been in business twenty years, and had amassed large fortunes ; but habit had become second nature, and, though they had accumulated wealth, they never thought of retiring in order to make room for younger and less -wealthy men. They were living illustrations of the saying, " Much will have more." Mr. Stanton, the partner of Mr. Brown low, came, at the age of twenty, from one of the midland counties, where he had been for some years in a draper's shop.

On reaching Manchester, he procured, through the influence of a connection, a situation as salesman in a large mercantile establishment. For ten years he worked steadily on, saving money, and making friends with the buyers who came to the market. Having become acquainted with Mr. Brownlow, they mutually agreed to commence business on their own account. They took a small warehouse, stocked it, put up a sign in a conspicuous position, on which Brownlow and Stanton shone in all the brightness of new gilt, engaged a good traveller, sold their goods cheap, did the greater part of the work, for the first two or three years, themselves, and prospered as they deserved to do. Having gained the confidence of their customers, they engaged in larger opera tions, took more extensive premises, and — in commercial phrase — did the trade.

The partners worked well together. What one did not know, the other did; and so between them they got on capitally. The success that they had met with had, however, hardened their hearts ; and, in their pride at having amassed wealth, and at having attained to a high position amongst the great merchants of the town, they forgot that there was a God who had granted them health and strength, without which they might have been paupers, or, at any rate, men acquainted with poverty. Such thoughts however never crossed their minds. They were rich ; that was a fact. They had amas sed those riches by their own exertions ; that was another. And so they jingled their money in their pockets, held their heads high, looked down with scorn upon those who were not so well off as themselves, ate, drank, and were merry.

They never for one moment thought that the riches they had accumulated were simply talents entrusted to their care by God, to whom one day they would have to render an account of the manner in which they had been used. The money had been earned by them, and the money should be spent and enjoyed, or hoarded up, by them. This was their creed ; this their determination. The poor, the oppressed, and the destitute, had no claim upon them ; for, had they not earned their money ? — and might not they do what they liked with their own — spend it, hoard it, add to it, as they pleased ? Such were the men to whom Ernest Milman was apprenticed for five years.

Chapter III

In a handsomely furnished dining-room, sat, sipping their wine after dinner, a lady and a gentleman, both of middle age. A discussion was apparently being carried on ; for the lady, Mrs. Wilson, continuing a train of argument, was endeavouring to persuade her husband that their son Henry was spe cially designed by nature for a profession, instead of a commercial life; in favour of which Mr. Wilson entertained strong opinions. " You know, my dear," said she, " that, to a youth possessing the abilities that Henry undoubtedly does, commerce offers no scope. There is no room for him to display his talents. In trade, men of the most ordinary capacity have the same opportunities of rising, as those who are endowed with superior intellects. Education, refinement, gentlemanly manners, are disadvantages rather than otherwise to a trader.

For, in the course of business, he must necessarily meet with men — with customers — whose minds are uncultivated, and to whom he will have to play the agreeable, for the sake of the orders that he can get out of them. O, George, do not — do not, I beg of you, bind Henry — my high-spirited, noble-hearted boy — to that horrid, horrid business ! " Horrid business, eh !" exclaimed the stout, comfortable-looking, bald-headed Mr. Wilson, as he slowly raised his wine-glass, in order, first, to admire the beautiful clear ness and colour of its contents, and then to convey it to his mouth ; whence, after having disposed of the ruby-coloured wine, he re moved it, and, with a satisfied " humph," replaced it on the table — " Horrid business, eh ! Pray, Madam, where would you have been, if it had not been for that horrid business, I should like to know ?

In the workhouse, probably ; or some place very similar. Profession ! pooh — a profession is not worth that — "said the retired merchant, snapping his fingers. " Profession, indeed ! For a man of energy, determination, and spirit, to voluntarily become a parson — a white-neckclothed, longtail-coated fellow, with a face like a diseased turnip or a bladder of lardH fit only to preach and talk to a lot of women, to snivel, and sneak, and cant, whilst, all the time that he is talking about charity, selfdenial, mortification of the flesh, and God knows what, he has an eye to the brass, and squints about for a girl whose father has got money. By Jove, if I had a daughter, and a parson were to come sneaking after her, I'd precious soon send the fellow to the right-about — a miserable, tuft-hunting, dinner-eating, psalm-singing, idle vagabond.