Fifty years in Wall Street
don’t believe you have money enough to do.” The railroad line merely
stimulated traffic, as the elevated railroads have done in our day, and
Drew was only a gainer instead of a loser by the apparent competition.
He also controlled the Stonington Line for twenty years.
Drew made his debut in Wall Street in 1844, just thirteen years prior to
my first appearance on the boards of this financial theatre, and he was
quite a war horse in speculation when I entered the arena. He formed a
partnership with his son-in-law, a Mr. Kelly, and Nelson Taylor, as
stock brokers and bankers. Their business was large and their credit
good. The firm continued for ten years, until it was dissolved by the
death of his partners. Drew then became one of the most daring and
successful operators in Wall Street.
Drew was married at the age of 25 to Roxana Mead, a farmer’s daughter,
by whom he was the father of three children, William H., Josephine, who
died in infancy, and Catharine, who was married to the Rev. W. I. Clapp,
a Baptist clergyman, who died and left his widow in good circumstances.
So there were very little grounds for “Uncle Daniel’s” dread that he
should probably die in miserable destitution, as it seems that his two
surviving children were very kind to him. His wife died in 1876.
Drew was a member of St. Paul’s Methodist Episcopal Church of New York
for several years. He contributed large sums to various religious and
educational institutions, but like Wilkins Micawber, he usually paid the
money in notes, which appeared in the schedule of his liabilities when
he had lost his large fortune, and had become bankrupt. He founded the
Drew Seminary at Carmel, for young ladies, at a cost of $250,000. He
built the Drew Theological Seminary, at Madison, New Jersey, also at a
cost of $250,000, and endowed it with a similar amount. He only paid the
interest on the latter. He increased the endowment fund of the Wesleyan
University, at Middletown, Conn., and the Concord Biblical Institute. He
added $100,000 to the endowment fund of Wesley University, but only paid
the interest on that also. These appear in the schedule, in the list of
his unsecured claims. He owned several large grazing farms in Putnam
county, but they were heavily mortgaged.
Drew had some intention of returning to his old home after the
bankruptcy proceedings in 1876, to spend the remainder of his days there
among his grandchildren. This desire shows that there was something
inherently soft and good, after all, in his avaricious nature, and
reminds me of the touching lines of Cowper on the same subject:
“Be it a weakness, it deserves some praise,
We love the play place of our early days,
The scene is touching, and the heart is stone,
That feels not at the sight, and feels at none.”
He went out to Putnam county in 1876, when he was sick, but he was soon
glad to get back to the city. He said: “I was troubled with visitors,
some of ’em well on to 100 years old. Some of them said I bought cattle
from them when I was young, on credit, and they wanted their bills. I
kept no books, and how was I to know I owed ’em for them critters? It
was dull outen thar,” he continued, “and yer never can tell till the
next day how ‘sheers’ is gone.”
So Uncle Daniel came back and stopped at the Hoffman House, where he
could have ready access to the ticker, and kept constantly posted on the
price of stocks. His principal broker was Mr. David Groesbeck.
The city still seemed to have certain fascinations for him that the
country was unable to afford. He often spoke regretfully, in his latter
days, of being too old to retrieve his fortune. He said he longed for
rest. Nothing seemed to weigh more heavily upon his mind than his
inability to carry out the plans connected with his religious
endowments, and he grieved deeply that he had not the means to return to
Wall Street that he might have another lucky turn that would enable him
to fulfil these religious obligations according to the original
intention.
In the bankruptcy schedule his personal property is itemized as follows:
watch and chain, $150; sealskin coat, $150; wearing apparel, $100;
Bible, hymn books, &c., $130.
Although he was economic in his domestic expenses, he entertained
friends liberally, and his house at the southwest corner of Seventeenth
street and Union Square was always open to Methodist ministers, free of
charge, from all quarters of the world.
Some years prior to his death Mr. Drew gave the following candid,
succinct and pathetic account of his embarrassment to a journalist who
interviewed him:
“I had been wonderfully blest,” said Uncle Daniel, “in money making. I
got to be a millionaire before I knowed it hardly. I was always pretty
lucky till lately. I didn’t think I could ever lose money extensively. I
was ambitious of making a great fortune, like Vanderbilt, and I tried
every way I knew, but got caught at last. Besides that, I liked the
excitement of making money, and giving it away, and am glad of it. So
much has been saved anyhow. Wall Street was a great place for making
money, and I could not give up the business when I ought to have done
so. Now, I see very clearly what I ought to have done. I ought to have
left the Street eight or ten years ago, and paid up what I owed. When I
gave $100,000 to this institution and that, I ought to have paid the
money, and I ought to have provided better for my children, by giving
them enough to make them rich for life. Instead of that I gave my notes,
and only paid the interest on ’em, thinking I could do better with the
principal myself. One of the hardest things I have had to bear has been
the fact that I could not continue to pay the interest on the notes I
gave to the schools and churches.”
“I gave my son the old homestead,” continued Mr. Drew, “and some other
small property up in Putnam, where we came from, which I hope will make
him independent at least. My daughter married a rich man, and when he
died, leaving considerable property to five children, I was made
executor of the will. For so great a trust as their property I was
obliged to give security, which I did by making over to them this house
where we are, and the North River steamboats, the Drew, Dean Richmond,
St. John and Chauncey Vibbard. This security makes them whole, and I
thank God that breach of trust is not on my conscience. Their mother, my
daughter, is, of course, well provided for, through her children and
deceased husband. My son’s principal business is now in connection with
the management of the boats, by which he is getting on very well.”
After Drew’s great disaster in the Erie “corner,” he became a special
partner in the firm of Kenyon, Cox & Co., and when this house failed,
after the panic of 1873, Uncle Daniel was compelled to make an
assignment. He had been for years on the losing side, having dropped
between two and three millions in the Erie “corner” through the
machinations of Gould and Fisk. Horace F. Clark and Gould had also
cornered him in Northwestern to the tune of $750,000. After the panic he
had made an assignment to Wm. L. Scott, of Erie, Pa., but was not
legally declared a bankrupt until 1876. His liabilities were
$1,074,131.83, and his assets were estimated at $746,499.46.
Like Vanderbilt, Drew kept his accounts in his head, and considered the
whole paraphernalia of book-keeping a confounded fraud.
His failure, which at one time would have induced a panic, did not cause
a ripple on the surface of speculation. After his discharge in the
bankruptcy proceedings, he appeared to pluck up fresh courage, and said,
“The boys think I’m played out, but I’ll give ’em many a turn and twist
yet.” He was interested in Toledo & Wabash, Canada Southern, Quicksilver
Mining Company and Canton (Land) Company stock.
Wm. H. Vanderbilt, who had received his early financial training as a
clerk in Drew’s office, still retained a kindly feeling for his old
employer, and sometimes gave him “pints” as Drew called them, on which
he made a little turn. It was said that Mr. Vanderbilt had intended to
give him another start in life about the time Drew passed suddenly over
to the majority. He died at 10.45 P. M., September 18, 1879, at the
residence of his son, Wm. H. Drew, No. 3 East Forty-second street.
His death came without any prior warning. He had been apparently in his
usual health during the day, and had dined with Mr. Darius Lawrence, of
Lawrence Brothers, brokers in Broad street, at the Grand Union Hotel, at
six o’clock in the evening. After dinner he returned to the house of his
son. About nine o’clock he complained of feeling ill, but refused to
permit anybody to sit up with him, saying he would call Mr. Lawrence,
who slept in an adjacent room, if he should feel worse. About ten
o’clock he went into Mr. Lawrence’s apartments and said he felt much
worse. Dr. Woodman, his family physician, was immediately summoned, but
before his arrival Mr. Drew had expired. The cause of his death was
apoplexy.
Among the numerous stories related of Uncle Daniel’s eccentricities, one
is noteworthy in relation to his habit of getting in a mellow mood when
prayer failed to soothe him, and covering himself up in bed after any
speculative disappointment. He was found in this condition one day at
the Sturtevant House, the year in which he died, by two Wall Street
acquaintances who called upon him, and were conversant with his peculiar
habits. He had all the windows closed, so that the atmosphere in the
room was stifling, and was enveloped in several pairs of double
blankets. His friends called for a bottle of champagne, of which he
refused to partake. When this was drunk they called for another, and
left it with him, believing that when he was left alone he might be
inclined to imbibe without any feeling of embarrassment.
Another story is related characteristic of Uncle Daniel’s methods of
making the best use of a secret, and any confidence that a person might
foolishly repose in him, in a speculative deal. During the war a young
man known as California Parker, who had more money than brains, began to
buy Erie in the vicinity of par, and put it up to 120. He went to Drew
and told him that he would let him in at fifteen per cent. below the
market, if he would only aid him with a little money to carry the price
higher. Mr. Drew blandly appeared to entertain the young millionaire’s
proposition favorably and Parker, on the strength of that, continued the
struggle until he had almost reached the end of his California gold. The
next morning when he met Drew the latter told him that he was unable to
raise the money, and appeared to be grieved at his disappointment. In
the meantime Drew had instructed his brokers to sell Erie “short,”
knowing that Parker was unable to absorb any more of that precious
paper, Erie stock. The market went down, Drew made a “scoop,” and Mr.
Parker retired from Wall Street a ruined, but a wiser man.
In personal appearance Drew was tall, strong and sinewy, and in his
latter days his face was seamed with deep lines, indicating intense
thought and worry. He had restless twinkling eyes, with a steady
cat-like tread in his gait. His general demeanor was bland, good-natured
and insinuating, with affected but well dissembled humility, which was
highly calculated to disarm any resentment, and enable him to move
smoothly in society among all shades and conditions of men. He has often
been mistaken for a country deacon.
So, now, having revived and collated the chief incidents in the
chequered career of this great speculative celebrity, I close this
sketch with the ardent hope that he may have found that peace beyond the
tomb which the ordinary speculator in Wall Street can seldom or never