ask." And it was all done as William
desired. To his credit let it be said that he spent the money wisely and
well: he did much for the development of the economic and intellectual
improvement of the country.

* * * * *

Mayer Anselm died in Eighteen Hundred Twelve, aged sixty-nine. But long
before he passed out, he had fixed in the minds of his children the
wisdom of being loyal to the family interests. "One banking-house may
fail, but five standing true to each other, in different countries,
never can," he said.

Nathan had gravitated by divine right to the head of the concern. In
times of doubt all the others looked to him.

To Nathan Rothschild must be given the credit for a financial stroke
that lifted the Rothschilds absolutely out and away from competition.

It was in the spring of Eighteen Hundred Fifteen.

Napoleon had been banished to Elba, and now returned like a conquering
hero. His magnetic name was rolling opposition before him as the sun
dissipates the clouds. Europe was in a tumult of terror!

Would Napoleon do again what he had done before--trample the cities
beneath his inconsiderate feet and parcel out the people and the land
among his favorites?

England was shaken to her center. "This time Britain shall not go
unpunished," declared the Corsican.

Business was paralyzed. The banks were not loaning a dollar; many had
closed and refused to honor the checks of depositors. People with money
were hoarding it. England was trying to raise funds to strengthen her
defenses, and fit out her soldiery in better fighting shape, but the
money was not forthcoming. Government bonds had dropped to sixty-five,
and a new loan at seven per cent had met with only a few straggling
applications. This was the condition on the First of June, Eighteen
Hundred Fifteen. The Armies of the Allies were gathering gear for a
final struggle, but there were those who declared that if Napoleon
should walk out before certain divisions of this Army, wearing his
uniform of the Little Corporal, bearing no weapons, and address the
soldiers as brothers, they would throw down their guns and cry, "Command
us!"

Nathan Rothschild there in London made his plans. With him to think was
to act. There was no time to consult his brothers or his mother, as he
usually did on affairs of great moment. He called his cashier and gave
him quick and final orders: "I am going across to the Continent. I shall
see th