Chapter XLII

Many of our residents, in passing down Pearl street, beyond Chatham, towards Franklin square, may have observed over the door of store No. 426, corner of Madison, an old board sign, with the letters partly faded, I. & N. Robins & Co. Over that house that sign has been for fifty-one years. It was once a wooden building, No. 428 and (before Banker street was opened and name changed to Madison), was what is now 426 and 428. It was rebuilt by Mr. Robins in 1838, and the present double building was erected.

John Robins erected his first sign at No. 446 Pearl, as early as 1799. He has now been in business in New York sixty-two years, and he is still a merchant, capitalist, and as active, useful a citizen as we have among us.

After being a short time alone in business, he took in his elder brother Johnson, and the firm for a few years was J. & J. Robins. John was born in 1779, and Johnson in 1778. Later, in 1803, the firm moved to 450, and John also lived in the rear of 440, while Johnson lived at 434. Johnson afterwards went to the East Indies, where he died.

Besides Johnson, John had a younger brother, Nathan, who was born in 1783, and was in business with him from 1812 until 1840. The way that John Robins came to start a dry goods store in Pearl street, on the east side of the block between Chatham and Madison streets, and within a few doors of where this spry young merchant of eighty-two now keeps, is curious.

But I must preface a little. He was born as I said, in 1779, in Monmouth county, New Jersey. When a lad he wandered to Philadelphia. Congress met there at that time. They were discussing the propriety of rejecting or confirming "Jay's" treaty. Meetings were held in different parts of the city, and young John Robins attended them to hear what was going on. On one occasion, Mr. Dallas, the father of the late minister to England, was speaking. He had a copy of the treaty in his hand, and after venting his indignation in the most fiery language, he flung it from him and exclaimed "kick the d—d thing to hell." The boys picked it up and made a bonfire of it, in front of the British Minister's house.

Where John was born there was game. He caught a muskrat, skinned it, and took the skin with him to Philadelphia on his first visit. He bartered the skin off for two books—one was Robinson Crusoe and the other a bible. He keeps the bible yet.

John was idling about Philadelphia, waiting for something to turn up, when the Whisky Rebellion broke out in Pennsylvania. A proclamation was issued to raise troops. There had to be notices served upon the military privates raised. He did this business, and received seventy-five cents, the first money he ever earned.

Not long after this, John Robins came on to New York, then quite a town, but not so large as Philadelphia. He had an elder brother named Enoch, who kept in Old Slip.

Enoch Robins owned several vessels, and was quite a shipping merchant of those days. He loaded his vessel with all sorts of assorted provision cargoes, pork, beef, onions, etc., and sent them to the West India Islands. He owned no vessels larger than 150 tons. In fact, the largest ship owned in New York in 1796 did not exceed 250 tons burden. One of 200 tons was an uncommonly large ship.

Enoch owned one brig called the Mary, of 150 tons burden. He loaded her with staves for wine casks, dried codfish, and other truck, to make up the assorted cargo, and despatched the "Mary" from New York to Bilboa, in the Bay of Biscay. He sent his brother John out as supercargo. At that time the United States was at war with France, and the brig "Mary" had a narrow escape from a French privateer. She lay at Bilboa three months, selling cargo. Then the "Mary" went to Lisbon, disposed of her staves, and took on board a quantity of gold and silver for New York. The exportation of silver was prohibited by Portugal, but Mr. Robbins had a belt made, and every trip he made on board his vessel, he would take a thousand Spanish dollars. In this way he got on board $16,000.

At that time the British fleet was anchored at Lisbon, and among the vessels was the 64 gun ship "Asia," that had given the city of New York so much trouble in the dark days of the Revolution.

Finally the brig "Mary" went to St. Ubes, loaded with salt, and got back safe to New York, making a splendid voyage. The salt sold for a dollar a bushel. The supercargo had saved several hundred dollars, which he put away in a safe place. On his return the supercargo, in 1797, had the yellow fever in Oak street. It was then called Rutgers street. But as that Rutgers street was rather a hard street, to please Colonel Rutgers, who wanted a nice street named after him, old "Rutgers" street was changed to "Oak," and the Rutger's name was given to the street that bears it even now.

After he recovered, the merchant Robins made up a voyage for the West Indies, and John Robins again started as supercargo. The vessel carried out an assorted cargo of provisions and vegetables. She cleared at New York for Surinam. Thence she went to Barbados, and afterward to Port Royal, Martinique. That island had been captured by the British.

Alongside of Robins' vessel lay a Connecticut craft, commanded by Baldwin Boardman, of New Haven.

"Do you want to see Benedict Arnold, Robins?" said Boardman to the supercargo.

"Benedict Arnold, the traitor? Why, what is he doing here?" asked Mr. Robins.

"He is one of his English Majesty's Commissary Generals at Port Royal. He comes alongside of my vessel every time I arrive here, and also to every other vessel that brings live cattle on here from any port in Connecticut. He never goes on board. He is fearful he might be knocked down, or be kept a prisoner and taken to the United States. He always asks for news and about different people in Norwich, New London, and other places, where he has relations, or where he used to be acquainted," remarked Captain Boardman.

The vessel of Mr. Robins went to St. Kitts, and afterwards to Turks Island, where she traded with salt, and returned to New York, making a capital voyage for her owner, and adding a few more dollars to the stock of our supercargo.

When John Robins got back, he made up his mind not to go to sea any more.

He was afloat in the city after his return about 1797. He had no resources except his few dollars. No trade, and his only available knowledge was picked up while voyaging for his brother.

He made up his mind to go into the dry goods business. He fancied he should like it, but of course, it would be necessary to learn the business before attempting it on his own account.

Now I come to the reason why John Robins came to start a dry goods store in that particula part of Pearl street, near to Chatham, No. 446. John was passing along Pearl from Chatham looking at the various stores, and the tasty manner in which the dry goods were temptingly displayed in front and in the windows. At that time, that part of Pearl was the fashionable shopping quarter. Old George Clinton who was a great hand at shopping, used to visit and buy at all those stores. So did the fashionable women of sixty years ago. Fancy such a state of things, as high born dames shopping in Pearl near Chatham! But at that time and for thirty years later, all the most famed millinery establishments were in William street, as low down as Maiden Lane. Young John Robins stepped in at one of these dry good stores and asked if they wished to get a young clerk. He had no success.

Finally, he halted at the door of 430 Pearl, where was kept a large stock of dry goods. It was a wholesale as well as retail store. Robins asked the owner the usual question:

"Do you want a clerk?"

"What to do?"

"I want to learn the dry goods business."

"What wages do you expect?"

"None. I want to learn the dry goods business."

The proprietor of the store looked at him. He was earnest and honest. He liked his appearance.

"Very well, you may come; I'll try you."

That merchant was the celebrated Henry Laverty, who in after years became a renowned merchant and very rich. He was of the firm of Laverty & Gantley, No. 173 Pearl, thirty years later, and for many years he resided at No. 247 Broadway, between Park place and Murray street.

Who does not remember Harry Laverty? John Robins went to work for Mr. Laverty. He slept in his store on the counter. He got up at daylight, opened the store, swept it out, dressed out the windows with dry goods, shut it up at night, was busy every hour of the day, and constantly employed in learning the value and qualities of dry goods. Very soon such clerkly devotion began to be appreciated by Mr. Laverty. After the year or eighteen months for which he was engaged was up, he told Mr. Laverty he should leave him. Mr. Laverty was not ready to part with him.

"Oh, yes, John, you'll stay. I'll give you a good round salary."

"No, I know how to handle goods. I have acquired a good deal of knowledge, and I will try and do something for myself," said John.

Mr. Laverty offered a still more tempting salary. John still said "No." Then he was offered a partnership. John still said "No." His mind was made up. He was astonished at the partnership offer, but he firmly declined it. Mr. Laverty parted with him regretfully. He had found out his sterling integrity, and his industry and care made him invaluable to anybody who was doing so large a business as Mr. Laverty.

After leaving the employ of Henry Laverty, John Robins determined to start a dry goods business on his own account. He had saved up carefully the money earned by him while supercargo for his brother. It was quite a little sum. He took a store at No. 406—a few doors from Mr. Laverty—in August, 1799. It was an exceedingly small store, and at a low rent. As soon as he had hired it he went to "vendue" and bought dry goods for cash. These goods he carried from the auction to his new store himself, and that was the commencement of our merchant's fortunes, one year before the commencement of this century.

He adopted a rule then, that he has never since deviated from, viz.: not to run in debt. Unlimited credit was offered to him but he would not accept it. He preferred doing a small, secure business, until by economy he had accumulated a large capital, and could be better able to expand.

His mother was an uncommonly smart woman. She lived to be a very old lady, and kept house for her son John, who never married. She was a good, old-fashioned, Dutch-looking dame. In these days, the front door was cut in two in the middle, and swung on separate hinges. The upper part swung in, the old lady used to lean over the lower part closed, and watch what was going on in the street.

She was famous for making capital coffee, and in every other respect was an excellent cook, and could make good pies and cakes. She was an energetic, hard-working dame, and an early riser. She lived to be ninety-five, and died the year after the cholera of 1832.

Mr. Robins continued on his quiet, snug business, un til the War of 1812 broke out. Until then he had bee. successful, but in a small way. Now a new field wa opened; and, after the blockade commenced, he wa able to compete with some of the largest houses in th city. He purchased entire cargoes of such vessels as had successfully run the blockade and come into the harbor, or were smuggled through Canada.

His competitors at that time were men of large capital. There was old Laurence Salles, of whom I have written in other chapters. He kept his store at 136 Water street; Jotham Smith, who kept at 214 Broadway, where the museum now is; Harry Laverty, who had removed to 454 Pearl, although he had established himself with D. W. Gantly, at No. 149 Pearl, below Wall, and King & Mead, 175 Broadway, heavy dry good dealers.

All of the dry goods dealers bought cargoes of the great shipping houses such as Le Roy, Bayard & Co., Jacob Le Roy, Jonathan Goodhue, Astor and others.

Frequently old Salles and Mr. Robins would join together and purchase a cargo of valuable French goods—silks, velvets, laces, &c. &c.—paying therefor as much as fifty cents a franc (18 cents) on the advance cost, or more than 300 per cent. profit!

Those were gay, lively times, and money was made.

There never resided in the city a more lucky fellow than John Robins. Few have done business sixty-two years, and fewer still have had a constant run of uninterrupted prosperity from the beginning. He is the richest merchant in the city who has acquired his immense property in a legitimate business. Other merchants have become millionaires by the rise of real estate, which they happened to own in large quantities. This is not the case with Mr. Robins. I am not aware that he ever owned real estate, except to a very limited amount.

His fortune has been made by his regular business and his knowledge and judgment in regard to the value of mercantile paper. He was content with profits, no matter how small. He was very economical, very saving, and very industrious. These great qualities, exercised for many years, have made him, as they will make every other man who practices them, very wealthy.

During the last year, (1861) Mr. Robins, who is hardly known to New Yorkers of the present generation, paid a larger personal tax than W. B. Astor, Mr. Stewart, or any other rich man in New York city; and those who doubt it can ask Mr. James Kelly, the Receiver of Taxes, who will confirm what I say, and yet it is so contrary to the generally received opinion of who is most wealthy in our midst, that my assertion will hardly be credited.

But a man with the habits of John Robins, in a period of years embracing more than the full life of most men, must accumulate immensely.

He has never thrown away money. He is a bachelor, dresses plainly, and wears his clothes carefully. He has washed his hands and face daily in the same shilling tin basin for sixty and odd years, and in the open yard. He has done his own marketing all that time. Not niggardly, but has lived on plain, healthy fare. The furniture of his abode is very moderate, and the loss of interest on its original cost has never been much. Mr. Robins is no believer in the rich velvet carpets and costly furniture of a Fifth avenue palace.

He has never fooled away his money on beggars, or squandered it on institutions of a doubtful value. What he has given away in the last half century he has kept to himself, and has not placarded his name in the public papers in any such connection.

As I have said before, no merchant in this city ever possessed so correct a judgment. He rarely erred. He never made a hazard in his life, and but one bet. That was a hat between him and the celebrated Matthew L. Davis.

During the war, when property, and especially merchandise, was so precarious, he sold out his entire stock of merchandise on three several occasions at a great profit. One of these occasions was to Tredwell & Hone. Isaac S. Hone, 172 Pearl, was a partner. These transactions were very common. "What will you sell out for?" was asked. "Thirty thousand dollars," was the reply.

Isaac Hone and his partner bought out Mr. Robins. He was a great speculator. Tredwell & Hone failed, and old John Hone, his father, had to pay $130,000 for them. He was obliged to sell his United States stock to save the name of Hone from dishonor. He felt so deeply, and had so much pride in keeping the commercial name of his sons untainted, that he cheerfully made any sacrifice. Old John Hone was a trump in his day.