Weekly Trinity journal., 1874-01-10
NATHAN ROTHSCHILD IN LON.
DON

The high priest of the Exchange was
not happy even in the midst of his over
flowing Golfers. Naturally enough, he
had few friends and nnmberless enemies.
In his later years he suffered from con-
slant dread of ASSASSINATION. He was al
ways receiving threatening letters, declar-
ing that his life depended on his send-
certain sums of money to certain ad-
dresses. He scented murder in every
breeze, suspected poisons in every cup.
In sleep, he had nightmare visions of
erouching things in waking hours, he
started at every unexpected noise.
One morning two strangers were an
nounced as having important business
with the banker, and they were shown
into his private office. He bowed to them
and inquired the nature of their negotia-
ton. They bowed and said nothing, but
advanced toward him, thrustng their fin
gers nervously into their pockets. They
must be searching for concealed weapons:
their bearded faces made it clear to his
frightened fancy that they were homi-
cidal ruffians. He retreated in terror be-
hind large desk, seized ponderous
ledger, hurled in at their heads, and
screamed "Murder :" at the top of his
voice. A small army of clerks poured
into the room, and laid violent hands on
the strangers, who proved to be wealthy
Polish bankers bringing letters of intro
drotion to the physically timidD lion of
loans. Embarrassed by his auriferouly au-
gust presence what is there in breathing
moncy-bag capable of inspiring awe?-
they forgot their speech and their COM
mon coolness of conduct. They were
nearly as much terrified as the renowned
Israelte and as it was their initial visit
to England, they imagined at first that
all foreigners were deemed robbers and
desperadoes until the contrary was estab-
lished.
The wretchedly rich Nathan never went
out alone after dark, never entered an
unlighted room, had servants within call
of his bedchamber, slept with loaded pis-
tolls under his pillow.
A fellow Frankforter, dining with him
one evening, and observing the luxury of
his household, remarked, You must be
happy, with the power to crafty every
wish"
"Happy indeed ~ was the response.
"Do you think it happiness to be haunted
always by dread of murder--to have
your appetite for breakfast sharpened by
threat to stab you to the heart unless
you enclose thousand guineas to some
unknown villain"
On one OCCASION, when the great fnan-
cier had been to an evening party, and
had gotten into his carriage to go homo,
friend, wishing to make an appoint
ment, stepped out to speak to him. The
timorous banker mistook his familiar
friend for highwayman, and thrust
pistol out Of the carriage window, with
his favorite cry of Murder ~ before he
could be acquainted with tho situation.
AS Rothschild grew richer and older
his fears increased. He became almost
monomaniac on the subject Of assassin
alton, and many of his relatives thought
him in serious danger of insanity through
his constant apprehensions. Most of the
menacing messages were unquestionably
sent him by his enemies, with whom he
was plentifully supplied. Conscious of
his weakness, they revenged themselves
upon him with baseless terrors. He was
repeatedly told so, but he could not be
induced to believe that he did not dwell
in an atmosphere of polsons, poniards
and pistols.