Heaven pity all of them!
They really did not know what they were doing.
One day he saw Lincoln—a tall, shambling man, long, bony, gawky, but tremendously impressive.
It was a raw, slushy morning of a late February day, and the great war President was just through with his solemn pronunciamento in regard to the bonds that might have been strained but must not be broken.
As he issued from the doorway of Independence Hall, that famous birthplace of liberty, his face was set in a sad, meditative calm.
Cowperwood looked at him fixedly as he issued from the doorway surrounded by chiefs of staff, local dignitaries, detectives, and the curious, sympathetic faces of the public.
As he studied the strangely rough-hewn countenance a sense of the great worth and dignity of the man came over him.
"A real man, that," he thought; "a wonderful temperament."
His every gesture came upon him with great force.
He watched him enter his carriage, thinking
"So that is the railsplitter, the country lawyer.
Well, fate has picked a great man for this crisis."
For days the face of Lincoln haunted him, and very often during the war his mind reverted to that singular figure.
It seemed to him unquestionable that fortuitously he had been permitted to look upon one of the world's really great men.
War and statesmanship were not for him; but he knew how important those things were—at times.
Chapter XI
It was while the war was on, and after it was perfectly plain that it was not to be of a few days' duration, that Cowperwood's first great financial opportunity came to him.
There was a strong demand for money at the time on the part of the nation, the State, and the city.
In July, 1861, Congress had authorized a loan of fifty million dollars, to be secured by twenty-year bonds with interest not to exceed seven per cent., and the State authorized a loan of three millions on much the same security, the first being handled by financiers of Boston, New York, and Philadelphia, the second by Philadelphia financiers alone.
Cowperwood had no hand in this.
He was not big enough.
He read in the papers of gatherings of men whom he knew personally or by reputation, "to consider the best way to aid the nation or the State"; but he was not included.
And yet his soul yearned to be of them.
He noticed how often a rich man's word sufficed—no money, no certificates, no collateral, no anything—just his word.
If Drexel & Co., or Jay Cooke & Co., or Gould & Fiske were rumored to be behind anything, how secure it was!
Jay Cooke, a young man in Philadelphia, had made a great strike taking this State loan in company with Drexel & Co., and selling it at par.
The general opinion was that it ought to be and could only be sold at ninety.
Cooke did not believe this.
He believed that State pride and State patriotism would warrant offering the loan to small banks and private citizens, and that they would subscribe it fully and more.
Events justified Cooke magnificently, and his public reputation was assured.
Cowperwood wished he could make some such strike; but he was too practical to worry over anything save the facts and conditions that were before him.
His chance came about six months later, when it was found that the State would have to have much more money.
Its quota of troops would have to be equipped and paid.
There were measures of defense to be taken, the treasury to be replenished.
A call for a loan of twenty-three million dollars was finally authorized by the legislature and issued.
There was great talk in the street as to who was to handle it—Drexel & Co. and Jay Cooke & Co., of course.
Cowperwood pondered over this.
If he could handle a fraction of this great loan now—he could not possibly handle the whole of it, for he had not the necessary connections—he could add considerably to his reputation as a broker while making a tidy sum.
How much could he handle?
That was the question.
Who would take portions of it?
His father's bank?
Probably.
Waterman & Co.?
A little.
Judge Kitchen?
A small fraction.
The Mills-David Company?
Yes.
He thought of different individuals and concerns who, for one reason and another—personal friendship, good-nature, gratitude for past favors, and so on—would take a percentage of the seven-percent. bonds through him.