There is nothing interests people so much as the start in life, probably because there are so few who consider themselves able to get a good start. So far as I can learn, in the case of Daniel Drew, the boy was father to the man. He worked on a farm, going to school at intervals, where he was unable to learn anything, except that he obtained a notion of the current theological ideas of that day, until he was fifteen years of age, when his father died, leaving him, a younger brother and their mother to shift for themselves on a poor, small farm. His father was of English and his mother of Scotch descent.
In his seventeenth year young Drew enlisted as a substitute in the State Militia, which had then been called into service on account of the second war with England.
The regiment was placed at Fort Gansevoort, on the Hudson, opposite New York. Hostilities ceased between this country and England a few months after his enlistment, and the regiment was mustered out. Daniel returned home. His mother had taken charge of his substitute money, which probably did not exceed a hundred dollars, the amount with which his great rival, Commodore Vanderbilt commenced life, and which he earned from his mother by ploughing and planting a field.
“I want my substitute money,” said Drew to his mother, one day shortly after his return. “What are you going to do with it?” queried the old woman, for being of Scotch descent, she was quite as thrifty in looking after the pennies as her American contemporary, old Mrs. Vanderbilt. They both had the gripping sense by nature, and to this transmissible quality may probably be attributed, in a large degree, the financial success of both of their sons.
“I am going to buy cattle, and sell them in New York,” replied Daniel.
“Are you sure you will not lose money by it?” rejoined his mother.
“I am sure I will make money,” he said.
He started to purchase cattle in the country and to sell them in New York. His profits were at first very small, especially as his capital was so limited. He soon discovered that if he could purchase his cattle in Ohio he would be able to increase his profits largely, and he applied to Henry Astor, a butcher in Fulton Market, and a brother of the great millionaire, John Jacob Astor, for a loan to speculate in Ohio cattle. Astor accommodated him, though he at first thought he was running a considerable risk. He was mistaken, for Drew made money and soon established his credit on a solid basis. He bought cattle throughout Ohio, and drove them over the Alleghany mountains. He is said to have been the first drover who attempted this daring experiment. It required sixty days then to make the journey. He suffered great hardship and privation, and would sometimes lose a third part of a drove of 600 or 1,000 in crossing the mountains. Yet, as cattle were very cheap in Ohio, his profits were still very large.
One terrible night, in a terrific thunderstorm, the tree under which he took shelter was shattered to splinters, his horse was killed under him, and he himself was struck senseless for a time. But no hardship or privation could deter him in the pursuit of making money. He afterwards extended his operations to Kentucky and Illinois.
In 1829 Drew opened a cattle yard at Twenty-fourth street and Third avenue and ran the Bull’s Head Tavern. He went into the steamboat business in 1834. Vanderbilt had then been seventeen years in the business. _Westchester_ and _Emerald_ were the names of his first two boats, and they ran between New York and Albany, in opposition to the Vanderbilt Line. Drew reduced the fare from three dollars to one, and attempted to freeze out Vanderbilt. The war of rates became so fierce that people were carried 100 miles between these two cities for a shilling. Drew added the _Knickerbocker_, the _Oregon_, _George Law_, _Isaac Newton_ and the _New World_ to his river fleet, and became quite a formidable competitor of the Commodore.
In 1840 Isaac Newton organized the People’s Line on the Hudson, of which Drew became the largest stockholder. The boats _St. John_, _Dean Richmond_ and _Drew_ were built. The _Isaac Newton_ was burned and the _New World_ was sunk.
When the Hudson River Railroad was opened, in 1852, Drew refused to sell out his stock. “You can regulate your fares as you choose,” he said to the President of the Railroad Company, “but the only way you can regulate my steamboat fares is to buy the People’s Line, and this I 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 hope to achieve on this side of “that beautiful shore.”
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CHAPTER XVIII.
PANICS.—THEIR CAUSES.—HOW FAR PREVENTABLE.
NOT ACCIDENTAL FREAKS OF THE MARKET.—WE ARE STILL A NATION OF PIONEERS.—THE QUESTION OF PANICS PECULIARLY AMERICAN.—VIOLENT OSCILLATIONS IN TRADE OWING TO THE GREAT MASS OF NEW AND IMMATURE UNDERTAKINGS.—UNCERTAINTY ABOUT THE INTRINSIC VALUE OF PROPERTIES.—SUDDEN SHRINKAGE OF RAILROAD PROPERTIES A FRUITFUL CAUSE OF PANICS.—RISKS AND PANICS INSEPARABLE FROM PIONEERING ENTERPRISE.—WE ARE BECOMING LESS DEPENDENT ON THE MONEY MARKETS OF EUROPE.—IN PANICS MUCH DEPENDS UPON THE PRUDENCE AND SELF-CONTROL OF THE MONEY LENDERS.—THE LAW WHICH COMPELS A RESERVE FUND IN THE NATIONAL BANKS IS AT CERTAIN CRISES A PROVOCATIVE OF PANICS.—GEORGE I. SENEY.—JOHN C. ENO.—FERDINAND WARD.—THE CLEARING HOUSE AS A PREVENTIVE OF PANICS.
There are few subjects on which there is more loose theorizing than that of the origin and remedy of panics. These crises are commonly spoken of as accidental freaks of the markets, due to antecedent reckless speculations, controlled in their progress by the acts of men and banks who have lost their senses, but quite easily prevented, and as easily cured when they happen.
These are the notions of mere surface observers. They may be in a measure true, when applied to the markets of some of the older countries, whose business moves in long-established grooves and embraces but little of the risk attendant on new enterprises. In France and Germany, for instance, the hazards of business are almost entirely confined to the accidents of political events; and such nations are comparatively exempt from panics due to purely commercial causes. In the United States, panics arise, principally, from causes from which European countries are exempt.
Notwithstanding our immense population and the large measure of well-ordered consolidation that has been effected in our various interests, we are still a nation of pioneers. In every ten years, we now add nearly fifteen millions to our population, which means that each successive decade we are piling up the equivalent of a first-class European state upon our past marvellous accumulation of empire. Inseparable from this unparalleled national growth are great ventures and great commercial and financial risks. Our new population has to subdue new territory. New lands have to be cleared; new mines have to be opened; new industries have to be established; new railroads have to be built; new banks created and new corporations founded. These new ventures are necessarily in a measure experimental. Some of them fail utterly; others succeed magnificently. They require large outlays of capital in advance of obtainable results. These outlays are, in many cases, met by borrowing; the loans being secured by liens upon the uncertain undertakings, and therefore lacking the stability of value that attaches to well developed investments.
We have thus a ceaseless stream of new issues of stocks, mortgages and commercial paper, and have, therefore, at all times outstanding a large amount of obligations which, from the uncertainty of their basis, are liable to wide fluctuations in value. Besides these absolutely new investments, we have also at all times an equal or larger amount of obligations issued against enterprises which, although not properly new, are still in an unconsolidated and experimental stage, and the value of which is, therefore, subject to wide fluctuations. Issues of this character naturally appeal to the adventurous instincts of our people and elicit a vast extent of speculative activity.
It is this peculiarity in the development and trade of the United States that renders our markets more exposed to panic than those of any other nation, and which makes the question of panics a peculiarly American one. In any and every commercial nation, trade is subject to regular successions of prosperity and depression. This oscillation results from, or constitutes a natural law.
The action of commerce, like the motion of the sea or the atmosphere, follows an undulatory line. First comes an ascending wave of activity and rising prices; next, when prices have risen to a point that checks demand, comes a period of hesitation and caution; then, care among lenders and discounters; then comes the descending movement, in which holders simultaneously endeavor to realize, thereby accelerating a general fall in prices. Credit then becomes more sensitive and is contracted; transactions are diminished; losses are incurred through the depreciation of property, and finally the ordeal becomes so severe to the debtor class that forcible liquidation has to be adopted, and insolvent firms and institutions must be wound up. This process is a periodical experience in every country; and the extent of the destructiveness of the crisis that attends it depends chiefly on the steadiness and conservatism of the business methods in each particular community affected. In addition to this ordinary and, I would even say, _natural_ liability to commercial crises with a greater or lesser degree of panic, we, in the United States, have to stand the far more violent oscillations so inseparable from our great mass of new and immature undertakings.
In times of crisis, the obligations issued against such enterprises suffer instantly from the uncertainty about their intrinsic value. Holders are anxious to get rid of them; banks which have advanced money on them, call in their advances; and they become virtually unavailable assets. Every panic that has happened since the beginning of the era of railroads in this country, has been intensified many-fold by the sudden shrinkage in the value of this class of assets; and it is precisely here that the aggravation and the chief danger of an American panic centres.
In view of these facts, what is the use of discussing the possibility of averting our periodic panics? Risks and panics are inseparable from our vast pioneering enterprise; and all we can hope is, that they may diminish in severity in proportion as our older and more consolidated interests afford an increasing power of resistance to their operation. I am disposed to think that, in the future, the counteraction from this source will be much more effective than it has been in the past. The accumulations of financial resource available for market purposes at our monetary centres are increasing at a very rapid rate. Evidence of this is seen in the fact that, while the magnitude of our corporate undertakings is augmenting every year, we are also every year becoming less dependent on the money markets of Europe, and our large corporate loans are now made principally at home. These accumulations afford elasticity to our financial system and serve as a buffer against the violence of great financial disturbances.
I do not see how we can in any other way satisfactorily explain how it is that, while we have had two distinct waves of commercial depression since the great crisis of 1873, such as have ordinarily been attended with more or less panic, we have had no disturbance that can be regarded as a fully developed panic. The only approach to it was the disturbance brought about by the Grant & Ward failure in May, 1884, which was merely a restricted and comparatively temporary affair.
But, whilst maintaining that panics cannot be avoided in a country situated as ours is in its present incomplete development, I cannot avoid expressing the opinion that conditions are permitted to exist which needlessly aggravate the perils of these upheavals when they do occur. In every panic very much depends upon the prudence and self-control of the money lenders. If they lose their heads and indiscriminately refuse to lend, or lend only to the few unquestionably strong borrowers, the worst forms of panic ensue; if they accommodate to their fullest ability the larger and reasonably safe class of borrowers, then the latter may be relied upon to protect those whom the banks reject, and thus the mischief may be kept within legitimate bounds. Everything depends upon rashness being held in check by an assurance that deserving debtors will be protected. This is tantamount to saying that all depends on the calmness and wisdom of the banks. They may easily mitigate or aggravate the severity of the crisis, according as they are prudently liberal or blindly selfish. It is, perhaps, safe to say, that the banks never do all they may; but the banks of this city must be credited with having shown great sagacity under repeated derangements of this kind within the last twenty-five years. They have largely succeeded in combining self-protection with the protection of their customers; and the antecedents they have established will go far toward breaking the force of any future panic.
But, unfortunately, the law imposes restraints upon the national banks which seriously interfere with the wise discretion of those institutions. As the law now stands, the banks are liable to be wound up at the order of the Government if they permit their lawful money reserves to fall below 26 per cent. of their legal deposits. This establishes a “dead line” which is so dreaded when approached that it becomes almost a panic line. When that limit is reached, the banks are compelled to contract their loans; and, in certain conditions, the contraction of loans means forcible liquidation, without regard to consequences. Thus the very contrivance designed to protect the banks becomes a source of most serious danger to their customers and therefore to the banks themselves; and, in times of monetary pressure, it is the most direct provocative of panic. Were the banks allowed to use their reserves under such circumstances, a fund would be provided for mitigating the force of the crisis, and the danger might be gradually tided over; but, as it is, the banks can legally do little or nothing to avert panic; on the contrary, the law compels them to take a course which precipitates it; and when the crash has come, they have to unite in common cause to disregard the law and do what they can to repair the catastrophe that a preposterous enactment has helped to bring about. This is one of not a few unwise restrictions upon our national banks which needs to be stricken from the statute book. These periods of the breaking-down of unsound enterprises and of the weeding out of insolvent debtors and of liquidation of bad debts can never be wholly averted; nor is it desirable that they should, for they are essential to the maintenance of a sound and wholesome condition of business; but it is a grave reproach to our legislators if, when the day of purgation comes, the law treats the deserving and the undeserving with equal severity.
GEORGE I. SENEY.
The most prominent characters in the short lived panic of 1884, as every observing person knows, were Ferdinand Ward, James D. Fish and a few others who acted minor parts in connection with the methods of financiering which precipitated the crisis in Wall Street.
There are many people who think that Ward—the Young Napoleon of finance, as he was popularly called—was able to dupe everybody, his accomplices included, and that he was chiefly responsible for all the trouble. But this is an exaggerated and unscientific view of the case.
Among the financiers who came to grief in the general embarrassment caused by the peculiar methods of the two financiers referred to, was George I. Seney. Seney gave his money away, and it was placed in the wrong quarters for any tangible return. He was a great patron of the churches and religious institutions. If he had studied the life of Daniel Drew, he might have discovered that investments in such enterprises as these were not particularly profitable. In his financial difficulties, Seney was left high and dry without friends who would come to his rescue. The result was, that the two financial institutions, the Metropolitan Bank and the Brooklyn bank with which he was thoroughly identified, had to go under as the result of Mr. Seney’s misfortunes. And an insurance company in Brooklyn, which had loaned about all of its surplus to Mr. Seney, taking Metropolitan Bank stock as collateral, was swamped as well.
There are few of the speculative magnates who succumbed to the crash of 1884, whose financial histories are more interesting than that of Mr. Seney. He is the son of a Methodist minister, and was born at Astoria, Long Island, about sixty years ago. He has always manifested the deepest devotion to his paternal church, and in the very height of his prosperity the church was the first object of his financial care. He was educated at the University of the City of New York, and shortly after he graduated, and when about 22 years of age, entered the Metropolitan Bank as a clerk. He was afterwards teller and then cashier. This was when Mr. Williams was President and when Mr. Jacques was Vice-President. Mr. Jacques resigned that position several years ago and made a prolonged journey to Europe. Mr. Williams died a few years ago, and Mr. Seney became his successor as President of the bank.