Fifty years in Wall Street

by Henry Clews

Mr. Drew first entered the Board of Directors in Erie about the year 1852, and remained there until he was squeezed out, and almost ruined, in 1868. He held the office of treasurer to the corporation.

Drew was born in the town of Carmel, Putnam county, in the year 1797, and was three years younger than Vanderbilt. As I have intimated above, in early life he drove cattle from his native town to New York. He afterward became proprietor of the Bull’s Head tavern in this city.

He never changed his style of dress from that to which he was accustomed to wear when he was a drover, and when he was worth thirteen millions, instead of sporting a gold headed cane, he went around Wall Street with the handle of an old broken umbrella in his hand. While treasurer of Erie he used every opportunity to manipulate the stock to his own advantage, irrespective of the rights or interests of any other person. He was the leading bear of the market for many years. Like Vanderbilt, he was interested to some extent in steamboats, but he made Erie stock the great medium of acquiring his vast wealth. He got the name of the speculative director, and at the outbreak of what was known as the Erie war he was supposed to be almost financially impregnable.

The “corner” of 1866 was the beginning of Uncle Daniel’s troubles. Up to that period all had gone merry as a marriage bell with him, and he was piling up the millions at a rate which no other financier or speculator had ever dared to imitate. Erie stock was selling at 95 in the spring of that year. The company was badly off for money. It made application to its treasurer for the needed relief. He was ready to serve it in that way at all times, but he wanted security for the loan. There were then 28,000 shares of unissued Erie stock. The company also claimed the right to raise money by the issue of bonds convertible into stock at the option of the holder.

This was an old trick in the management of Erie matters. It had saved Jacob Little on one occasion, as I have mentioned in a former chapter, during the earlier history of speculation in Wall Street. It was, therefore, not original with the Drew management of Erie, as some people have supposed.

The 28,000 shares of unissued stock then, and three millions of dollars of convertible bonds, were placed in the hands of Mr. Drew as security, and he advanced the loan of 3½ million dollars to relieve the pressing necessities of the corporation.

When Drew found himself thus fortified with the convertible bonds, he laid another trap for the boys in the Street. Erie had been rapidly absorbed for some time, and was very strong at 95 with anxious purchasers. The stock was, therefore, becoming very scarce. Mr. Drew had a large number of contracts to fill, and operators were wondering where he would get the stock to settle. Many of them were laughing in their sleeves at his impending embarrassment, as they had done on a former occasion, and were in ecstasies of delight at the idea of the terrific “squeeze” which the old man was about to experience. When he seemed on the very horns of this dilemma, upon which the rampant bulls thought they would successfully impale him, he converted his three million bonds into an equivalent amount of stock, threw 58,000 shares on the market, met all his contracts, and fed the voracious bulls with all they wanted.

Hungry as the Street had been for Erie, this was an overdose that it was utterly incapable of digesting. The bulls were paralyzed, and before they could rally their broken ranks from the demoralizing effects of this unexpected sortie from the stronghold of Erie, the stock had declined from 95 to 50, wiping out the broadest margins and putting the whole army of bulls, reserve forces and all, to utter rout.

Millions were lost and won in a day in this deal.

This was regarded as a grand coup d’etat, and one of Drew’s most brilliant exploits in operating. In fact, at the time, it seemed to throw every prior operation of this nature totally in the shade, and the other leading operators of the street were blue with envy, green with jealousy, and raging mad over their losses and the way they had been entrapped and almost ruined by the deeply-laid scheme of the Erie treasurer. Drew was despised, feared and revered on account of this unparalleled achievement. He then essayed to rest on his oars for a short time, but his period of repose was but short-lived.