Fifty years in Wall Street

by Henry Clews

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.