Fifty years in Wall Street
opened I rushed up to his room. The Commodore was sitting on the side of
the bed with one shoe off and one shoe on. He got up, and I saw him
putting on the other shoe. I remember that shoe from its peculiarity. It
had four buckles on it. I had never seen shoes with buckles in that
manner before, and I thought, if these sort of men always wear that sort
of shoe, I might want a pair. He said I must take my position as I found
it; that there I was, and he would keep his bloodhounds (the lawyers) on
our track; that he would be damned if he didn’t keep them after us if we
didn’t take the stock off his hands. I told him that if I had my way,
I’d be damned if I would take a share of it; that he brought the
punishment on himself and he deserved it. This mellowed him down. I told
him that he was a robber. He said the suits would never be withdrawn
till he was settled with. I said (after settling with him) that it was
an almighty robbery; that we had sold ourselves to the Devil, and that
Gould felt just the same as I did.”
Among the friends who adhered to the Commodore in the trying hour of the
“corner,” besides those mentioned, were William Heath, Richard Schell
and his brother Augustus, and Rufus Hatch. Richard Schell was highly
practical and remarkably shrewd in the aid which he offered the
Commodore to obtain money for the speculative fight. He managed, through
his tact and shrewdness, to get loans on Erie after the banks had
absolutely refused to lend, on account of the over-issue of the stock.
After this refusal, he made inquiry at the banks, and found that most of
them had New York Central stock. He then went to a bank and said: “If
you don’t lend the Commodore half a million on Erie at 60, he will put
Central down to 50 to-morrow, and break half the houses on the Street.
You know whether or not you will be among them.”
The threat was repeated at other banks, and, in almost every instance,
had the desired effect, and the Commodore was supplied with the sinews
of war, but he was only throwing away his ammunition.
The Erie stock from the inexhaustible fountain of over-issue was
supplied to him without stint, and his attempts to “corner” the clique
were absolutely futile.
While these gamesters were feeding the Commodore with this extemporized
stuff to order, Fisk said: “If this printing press don’t break down,
I’ll be d—d if I don’t give the old hog all he wants of Erie.”
The printing press did not break down, but did its work well until the
Commodore was nearly “burst,” and had it not been for his indomitable
courage and the hold he had acquired on the courts, he would have been
bankrupt. His escape seemed almost a miracle to the people of Wall
Street, and Gould and Fisk were not less surprised that they had met a
foeman worthy of their steel. In spite of the fact that he spilled over
seven millions like water, the Commodore managed to sustain the market
through it all, and prevented a crash that, in its local effects, at
least, would have been as disastrous as that of Black Friday.
Certain innocent holders who had been badly crushed in the collision
between the great leaders received a financial emollient for their
lacerated feelings, amounting in the aggregate to $429,250. The Boston
party, represented by Mr. Eldridge, was to be relieved of five millions
of its precious Boston, Hartford & Erie bonds, receiving therefor four
millions of Erie acceptances.
Thus, the settlement in full cost Erie about nine million dollars. The
Erie stock and bondholders were saddled with this liability in defiance
of law and justice.
Gould and Fisk pretended to be opposed to the settlement, leaving the
public to infer that it was all the work of Drew with Vanderbilt.
However this may have been, it was probably the best thing the others
could have done to relieve themselves of their various complications at
the time. No doubt the Vanderbilt note to Drew, for which the waiter was
discharged from Taylor’s Hotel, was at the bottom of the whole
settlement.
Drew was left to enjoy his share of the fruits of the “corner,” which
netted seven millions, except that he had to pay into the Erie treasury
the trifling item of $540,000 in discharge of interest and all claims or
causes of action which might be presented against him by the Erie
Company. The Erie Railway fell to the lot of Gould and Fisk as their
share of the spoils growing out of the _entente cordiale_.
Drew then retired from Wall Street in the same way that Gould has so
often retired since that time, except that Drew had probably an honest
intention so far as it was possible for him to have such a conception of
leaving the Street forever, but it would seem that he had not the power
to do so. Once in Wall Street, always in Wall Street. It is like the
doctrine of the final perseverance of the saints, as laid down in the
Westminster Confession of Faith. It is impossible to get out of it when
the speculator gets fairly into its fascinating grasp.
Drew might have enjoyed life and the consolations of religion on the few
millions he had left if he had retired in company with his Bible and
Hymn Book, to some lovely, secluded spot in the peaceful vales of Putnam
county; but he was under the infatuation of some latent and mysterious
force or attraction, the victim of some potent spell, like the one in
whose weird grasp Nancy Sykes was firmly held when she essayed to get
away from the murderous “Bill,” as described by Dickens in Oliver Twist.
Drew came back to Wall Street, and saw and was vanquished, quite unlike
Cæsar.
When he returned to the “Street” after a few months absence, the scene
was greatly changed. His two pupils had shown themselves to be such apt
scholars, that in the interim they had exceeded the wildest dreams of
avarice that ever their able preceptor had conjured up or inculcated. In
four months Gould and Fisk had inflated the capital stock of Erie from
34 millions to 57 millions. No doubt, Uncle Daniel was astounded at
their progress, and his feelings can be better imagined than described
when, in the presence of this marvellous increase of wealth, he
reflected that he was no longer treasurer of Erie, and had neither lot
nor part in its unprecedented prosperity.
His natural propensity to operate, however, was still strong, but when
he again tried his hand at speculation, it seemed to have lost its
cunning, and he felt almost as much disappointed as Rip Van Winkle did
when he awoke in Sleepy Hollow, after his twenty years’ nap, and began
to examine the changed aspect of the country in the vicinity of
Irvington, now Gould’s country seat.
The speculative tactics in operation had been changed, and he soon found
that it was a losing game to go on the bear side of the market. He was
invited into the pool by his old partners, to have a little practice at
the popular game of spider and fly. Drew had been the spider for a long
time who had inveigled the unwary flies from every direction into his
insidious net. He was now asked to assume the role of a fly, while his
former pupils played spiders. In plain terms, he was coolly requested to
go into a “blind pool” in Erie, deposit four millions, shut his eyes and
open his mouth, leaving the Erie sharpers to put taffy or candy into it,
just as they pleased.
He was no longer to have the privilege of pulling the wires, nor the
wool over other people’s eyes. On the contrary, he was to be one of the
puppets that should dance to the music of Gould and Fisk, and let them
pull the wool over his eyes. He was not to ask any questions, but pay
his money and take his choice, that is to say, whatever Gould and Fisk
chose to give him. The terms were rather humiliating, and on reflection,
Uncle Daniel revolted. He did not see the point of paying the piper
without having the privilege of choosing the tune. He, therefore,
withdrew his funds after losing a million, and undertook the task of
bearding these two young lions in their den—the den which he had
constructed for them, and the two young lions which he had so carefully
nurtured to destroy him. They were very wroth with him on account of
what they regarded as his treachery, which virtually consisted in his
refusal to be totally devoured by them. The fact is, however, Daniel
could not have been true to any one, any more than they. “Can the
Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots?”
After considering the matter prayerfully, as he always did in such
emergencies, he resolved to operate alone, and the oracle told him to go
on the short side. It was evident that the Gods had doomed him to
destruction, so he rushed in madly to sell the market, which moved
persistently upward.
In this emergency he took counsel of a Christian brother, who advised
him to pray. He tried hard to pray, but his irresistible desire to keep
constant watch on the tape of the ticker, to see the quotations,
evidently distracted his devotions. This was probably the first time
that he lost faith in the power that moves the arm that moves the world.
He went to his Christian brother with tears in his eyes, saying: “It is
no use, brother; the market still goes up.” And Uncle Daniel ceased to
pray, and despairingly fixed his attention on the ticker.
Daring November, Drew contracted for the delivery of 70,000 shares of
Erie at current prices. It was then in the vicinity of 38. He proceeded
on this line of operation until he was hopelessly “cornered.” He then
applied to the court. Application was made for an injunction in the name
of August Belmont, but Gould and Fisk offset it by applying for another
injunction to their faithful Barnard. That upright Judge not only
granted an injunction restraining all suits brought against his two
eminent protegés, but appointed Gould Receiver of Erie. He also gave
authority to the directors of Erie to use the funds of the corporation
to purchase and cancel 200,000 shares of stock, the legality of whose
issue had been questioned, at any price less than the par value, without
regard to the rate at which it had been issued.
Gould and Fisk had issued these shares in the bear interest at 40, ran
the stock down to 35, and now obtained the power to purchase it back at
par in the bull interest. This they did by the authority and permission
of a Judge of the Supreme Court, in spite of the law prohibiting members
of corporations to deal in their own stock. So these two great
manipulators “cornered” their old friend and teacher, Drew, by legally
over-riding the law.
Erie became scarce after this skilful movement was performed, and was
selling at 47. Drew made desperate attempts to cover at this price, but
the stock ran up to 57 between Monday and Wednesday. Wall Street was in
a terrible ferment, and, as the newspapers say, the greatest excitement
prevailed. Erie made still another leap and reached 62. It was evident
that it was bound to keep on the upward grade, and there was no apparent
relief for Drew, at least for two or three days, when an incoming
steamer was expected to have a considerable amount of Erie on board. It
was manifest, however, that by that time Drew would have reached the end
of his millions, and probably most of his credit would have vanished
with his own filthy lucre. His oppressors were bearing down upon him
with all their might, and were evidently determined to make short work
of him.
The struggle waxed hotter as the hour of three in the afternoon
approached, and these two young lions of speculation were determined to
crush the old bear unmercifully and effectually.
When Drew was apparently on the very brink of utter financial
destruction, and almost at the close of the market, two events happened
that preserved him from total annihilation. There had been 300,000