TRICKS UPON EUROPEAN TRAVELLERS.
REGULATING SWINDLES.
Sometimes this universal practice of giving commissions leads to funny experiences on the part of travellers. In 1867, the year of the Exposition, it was my fortune to be in Paris, and to see the capital in its gayest and most prosperous times. Every Parisian, in whatever business engaged, was counting upon making a fortune, or, at all events, upon laying a broad and solid foundation for it. Prices were exorbitant; trade was brisk, and money was plenty. For had not the foreigners come from all parts of the globe, with abundance of cash, which they were scattering as the farmer scatters the grain he sows? The police came to the relief of the much-defrauded public; but though they regulated the cabmen and other public personages, they could not regulate the shop-keepers. Merchants would coolly demand a hundred francs for an article worth no more than twenty, and when you taxed them with an attempt to swindle, they explained that they must live, and that rents were very high. One day I found a small spot of grease on my hat, and stepped into a hat store close by the Grand Hotel. The shopman examined the hat for at least a minute, and then sent for the foreman of the work-room. The latter came, and the twain held a solemn consultation, that resulted in a proposition to eradicate the obnoxious grease if they could have three days’ time, and at an expense of twelve francs. I declined, and walked out. The same afternoon, at a small hat store in the Latin Quarter, the stain was removed inside of ten minutes, by the use of a hot iron; and the whole work cost but half a franc.
AN AMUSING EXPERIENCE.
There were lots of Americans in Paris at that time, and the most of them did not know enough French to swear in, much less to make a purchase, or order a breakfast. They used to fall upon such of us as knew the language, and compel us to act the part of valets in accompanying them on shopping tours. Very soon we were utterly sick of this amusement, and used to invent all sorts of excuses to be rid of it. One day I had some fun that lasted me a week at least, and was a standing joke, which several of my friends enjoyed hugely. A gentleman and lady of my acquaintance induced me to accompany them to a shop on the Rue de la Paix, where I was to act as their interpreter in some projected purchases. I was the go-between in the transaction, and faithfully rendered the English of the patrons into the French of the shop-keeper, and vice versâ. The purchases amounted to nearly three hundred francs; the goods were wrapped, and the money was paid over. My friends were taking a final glance into the show-cases on one side of the shop, while I was looking at something on the other side, and holding, by accident, my open hand on the counter. The shopman slipped a twenty-franc piece into my hand. His action surprised me for an instant; but I speedily comprehended the situation, closed upon the coin, and then took a sly glance at it. “Dix francs encore,” I demanded, in a whisper, and shook my head. There was a look of expostulation on the face of the merchant; but I repeated my demand, and received the extra ten francs. We left the shop, and I kept the occurrence to myself until evening, when I narrated it, in the café of the Grand Hotel, to a little group which included the gentleman whom I had accompanied. He was boasting of the cheapness with which he bought his articles that day, and recommended the shop as the most honest one in Paris. Then I came out with my story, and produced the identical money received from the dealer in bijouterie. The champagne which was bought with those thirty francs proved to be a very good article, but somewhat high priced, though no more so than the like material which my patron was obliged to purchase as soon as my commission was expended. He did not hear the last of that affair for some time, nor did I.
The foregoing is a prologue to a few remarks—rather a long prologue, I admit—upon the fraud of this custom of giving commissions in America. How long it has existed here, I do not know. Quite likely the fellow who negotiated the sale of Manhattan Island for twenty-four dollars, in the days of Hendrick Hudson, received a commission for his services; and it may be that the ministers who surrounded Ferdinand and Isabella, and persuaded them to listen to the daring Genoese navigator, and favor his project for a new route to the Indies, received a commission from Columbus as soon as the money for equipping his fleet was secured from the king and queen. History records that the Mayflower was very poorly equipped when she sailed with the Pilgrims for Plymouth Rock, and that the contractors who furnished her did not comply either with the letter or spirit of their agreement. If the matter could be investigated, I have little doubt we should find that the contractors were obliged to pay a commission to somebody, and that they found it so heavy as to take away all their profits, and compel them to the dreadful alternatives of being dishonest or losing money by the operation. At any rate, this is frequently the case nowadays, and I have known a man to be pressed so sorely by the commission-seekers that he found a contract, originally supposed to be very fat, to turn out so lean as to be no better than a skeleton. Particularly is this so with matters connected with the city government in New York.
STORY OF THE TAMMANY RING.
In the days of the Ring, a man would seek, we will say, a contract for paving a certain number of streets. He would pay a member of the Board of Aldermen to introduce a resolution authorizing the said pavement. Then a committee would be appointed to investigate the matter, and the committee would need something to help support their families, and also to secure a favorable report. Next it would be necessary to interview a sufficient number of the members to make a majority, and then the resolution would go through. The same course would be followed with the Board of Assistant Aldermen before the resolution would become a law of the city, and enable the pavement to proceed. And when the work is finished, there is trouble about getting the money for it. First comes the inspector, who is to pronounce upon the work, and say whether the terms of the contract have been met. His salary is small, and his expenses are large. He is the head of a numerous family, and is required to contribute to the success of his political party; and such success requires money. A judicious salve of greenbacks spread over the contract enables him to see as he should see, and he reports favorably. Then come the Board of Audit, Supervisors, and the like. They may not all need money; but there are certain members and attachés who are poor, but dishonest, and are struggling manfully against the floods and storms of this wicked and weary world. Delays are dangerous and vexatious, and to secure expedition and favorable action, there is nothing so good as money. And then there is the work of getting the money after the payment has been ordered, and very often somebody in the financial department of the city and county of New York will demand and receive his commission. Then there are outside bills to persons of influence, and when one has been settled, another and another will make its appearance.
UNDERCURRENTS OF CONTRACTS.
I have made no fancy sketch. This is the history of many a contract—probably of most of the contracts—with the city government of New York in the past twenty-five years. And it is for this reason that such exorbitant prices are paid for paving, street cleaning, and all other city work; and it is for this reason that many contracts which appear exceedingly profitable on their face, really furnish little or no profit. I have known several men who had large contracts on which they actually lost money, and I have in mind one who was driven into bankruptcy by a contract out of which he expected to make a large amount of money. He had calculated upon a shave of fifty per cent., and made his terms accordingly. But his actual proceeds were only twenty-two per cent. of the face of the contract, and even for that amount he was compelled to wait so long that he could not meet his outstanding bills, and became a financial wreck. Other city governments may be bad, but I think none of them are equal to that which has its scene of operations on Manhattan Island. I leave out of the case altogether the forgeries and raised bills of the Ring operators, and consider only those contracts which may be classed as strictly legitimate.