andkerchief in which his worldly goods were knotted, and in his
heart he had the blessings of the Lutheran clergyman, who walked with
him for half a mile, and said a prayer at parting.
To have youth, high hope, right intent, health and a big red
handkerchief is to be greatly blessed. John Jacob got a job next day as
oarsman on a lumber-raft.
He reached Antwerp in a week. There he got a job on the docks as a
laborer. The next day he was promoted to checker-off. The captain of a
ship asked him to go to London and figure up the manifests on the way.
He went. The captain of the ship recommended him to the company in
London, and the boy was soon piling up wealth at the rate of a guinea a
month. In September, Seventeen Hundred Eighty-three, came the news to
London that George Washington had surrendered. In any event, peace had
been declared: Cornwallis had forced the issue, so the Americans had
stopped fighting. A little later it was given out that England had given
up her American Colonies, and they were free.
Intuitively, John Jacob Astor felt that the "New World" was the place
for him. He bought passage on a sailing-ship bound for Baltimore, at a
cost of five pounds. He then fastened five pounds in a belt around his
waist, and with the rest of his money--after sending two pounds home to
his father, with a letter of love--bought a dozen German flutes.
He had learned to play on this instrument with proficiency, and in
America he thought there would be an opening for musicians and musical
instruments. John Jacob was then nearly twenty years of age.
The ship sailed in November, but did not reach Baltimore until the
middle of March, having had to put back to sea on account of storms when
within sight of the Chesapeake. Then a month more was spent hunting for
the Chesapeake. There was plenty of time for flute-playing and making of
plans. On board ship he met a German, twenty years older than himself,
who was a fur-trader and had been home on a visit.
John Jacob played the flute, and the German friend told stories of
fur-trading among the Indians. Young Astor's curiosity was excited. The
Waldorf-Astoria plan of flute-playing was forgotten. He fed on
fur-trading.
The habits of the animals, the value of their pelts, the curing of the
furs, their final market, were all gone over again and again. The two
extra months at sea gave him an insight into a great business, and he
had the time to fletcherize his ideas. He thoug
|