Chapter VI

The house of Roger & Co. was conducted by Charles Sagory. While Mr. Rogers held the French contract for tobacco, his agents at Richmond and New Orleans were constantly purchasing tobacco, and drawing upon the New York house for money to pay for their purchases. Consequently, the New York house was a drawer of bills on Paris and on London, to meet the payment of the Southern drafts. Sometimes this business amounted to a million a month, and Chas. Sagory would be the largest drawer of foreign bills in the market. Brokers were employed to sell bills of exchange, but this house had its regular buyers, and principally among French houses.

A great business was this advancing money on consignments of cargoes of foreign produce. A voyage, for instance, would be made for the "Liberty," or any of John McCrea's ships. The money would be advanced by Rogers & Co. to pay for the cargo, provided it came freight-free. There was rarely any loss on such advances. It required of course an immense capital to be able to advance $250,000 to purchase a cargo in Canton. Yet it was easily done. Letters of credit were furnished to draw on London, at Canton. Suppose Rogers & Co. applied for these London credits. They had only to remit to London, when they heard of the drafts being drawn in Canton. These drafts would be at four or six months, so that the ship containing the cargo, which the proceeds of these drafts were used to purchase, would be in New York with the cargo before it was needful to remit to London. Consequently, Rogers & Co. were often in their transactions not out of money for a day. Mr. Sagory had two large houses that were always his friends—gave him the use of their bonds at the Custom House, and endorsement when he needed it. These houses were French. One was A. C. Rossire & Co., deeply engaged for thirty-five years in the St. Domingo trade. The other was Bouchaud & Thebaud, also commission merchants, very old in business, and very rich. When Mr. Thebaud died, Joseph Bouchaud, his partner, carried on business on his own account. He was very rich, and resided for many years, in a house in Duane street, corner of Staples street.

Joseph Bouchaud had two daughters. One married A. Voisin, of the firm of Voisin & Tardy, French importing merchants. They were rich and respected men. Tom Quick, thus alludes to Mr. John A. Tardy, one of the firm:—

"Jim was one of the old pillars of the Carlton House in Leonard street, and was always on hand in the evening to have a 'little draught' with his old friend Tardy. I asked Barney where old man Tardy held forth now-a-days, but he was unable to answer. I wonder if Bates can tell me, as I would like to see the old gentleman, and pass the rosy just once, for old acquaintance sake."

Those who meet "Old Man Tardy" in these later years of his decadence little dream what a gay, gallant popular man and merchant he was in his palmy days. Oh, how sadly that changeful damsel Miss-Fortune used Tardy! He married a beautiful girl. She was Miss Eustaphieve, the daughter of the Russian consul, and a great belle. She died long ago. The partner of Mr. Tardy was a fine French boy. His mother was a widow, and supported herself and him for many years by working at millinery at the shop of Miss Miller, No. 128 William street, where ex-mayor Tieman's paint store now stands. That same Kate Miller was great in her way. She made men of all her young brothers. One, Andrew Miller, was, and is the largest leather dealer in the Swamp. Her forewoman was a Mrs. Ives. She had one son, who clerked it in old John Greacen's cloth store, until he got ahead and married the daughter of Ralph Olmstead, a rich dry' goods merchant. George R. Ives had a friend. He was a little brainless counter-jumper at a small dry goods store, and used to get his six-penny dinners at Seely Brown's eating-house, No. 51 Nassau street (Brown keeps it yet, and has for thirty-one years,) and had a cot bed in a room No. 60 Dey street for $2,00 a week, including breakfast and tea. This friend of George Ives was named Homer Ramsdell. He lacked everything but the impudence of Satan. He was pious in order to prosper; taught in the Sunday school of the Rev. Dr. Potts in order to have a good shye at girls of fortune. This Ramsdell combed his hair beautifully. He dressed to kill, but a man would have been deemed the veriest maniac outside of a lunatic asylum, had he whispered that the nice young man in the dry goods store in Maiden Lane—so harmless, so pleasant and kitten-like in his way of acting—so soft did he speak, and say, "Miss, what shall I show you to-day?"—that that half simpleton would be at the head of a mighty corporation and wield property worth tens of millions! Merchants, listen! Bankers of "Wall street, hearken! This poor devil in intellect, in experience—who could just count two and two makes four, could fix a silly girl—he was good looking, he was pious, and he cast his eyes around to make a match for money. He found a partner in Miss Powell of Newburgh, a daughter of that rich Thomas Powell who placed the son-in-law, Homer Ramsdell, ex-dry-goods clerk, as President of the Erie railroad and its vast interests! Great heavens! is it a wonder that under such a trifling chap that superb road should have gone to ruin, and carried with it thousands and tens of thousands of innocent people? No. Now, brokers, why was it done? Because a little chit of a girl fell in love with a brainless counter jumper, and then persuaded herfather to impose the son-in-law upon the directors of a mighty corporation. Nobody knew this Homer Ramsdell but a few fellow dry good clerks and members of Potts' church, until Powell made him president of the Erie road; and the silly president set road and stock-brokers on the road to general ruin.

There were about ten of the young counter-jumpers that formed a society to marry rich girls. They swore to protect and aid each other. All succeeded. Ramsdell was one; Ives was another, and the rest I will not now mention, One of the set, named -----, made a dead set at the only daughter of Frank Olmstead, who was rich, (owned then the American Museum buildings, and daughter does now.) It was not to be. Miss Olmstead was destined for a higher class man. She mittened Mr. -----, and married Henry W. Sargent, of the firm of Gracie & Sargent, the agents of Welles & Co., bankers in Paris. The society of young clerks boarded generally at twenty shilling boarding houses, curled each other's hair on Saturday night, went to Sunday school as teachers, and became members of the Presbyterian church that had the richest members and prettiest daughters. Their piety game was the card that won in every instance.

I have digressed, but as it is truthful and amusing, I will let it go, and once more return to the Old Merchants.

Rogers & Co., whom I am speaking of, must not be confounded or mixed up with the great sugar house of David Rogers & Co. That firm failed many years ago. The old Rogers was once a sea captain and traded afterwards to Santa Cruz, one of the Danish Islands in the West Indies, where old David resided, was consul, and owned vast sugar plantations. That Rogers did no other business than in sugars. His large stores were over in Greenwich street.

Rogers & Co. had their counting room at 42 Exchange Place, directly opposite the Garden street church of Dr. Mathews, and all were burned out together in the great fire of 1835. At the time that fire occurred, there were few notes to be paid. Money was easy. It was in December. Business had been for years magnificent. Everybody engaged in commerce was making a fortune. Insurance stocks were deemed as good as gold. But that fiery night taught merchants a fearful lesson. At least thirty millions of property went off in smoke and ashes in a few hours. It was a bitter cold night. The counting house oft Rogers & Co. had not been closed that night, when the alarm was given. The chief clerk was writing in the cash book. When the alarm sounded, he went to the vault and deposited the books. In that vault was what is called a "portfolio." It contained nearly one million of dollars, or what represented that sum. There were bills of exchange, notes or bills receivable of merchants for a vast sum. In another pigeon hole in the vault were policies of insurance for a quarter of a million, for at that time Eogers & Co. had large quantities of foreign merchandise stored in different warehouses.

The clerk smiled, for he thought how little a fire could injure Rogers & Co. in a pecuniary point of view. The bells were ringing, and the clerk stepped out into the keen cold to see where the fire was. It had then readied the west end of Exchange street, a little crooked corner that elbowed around into Pearl street. He watched the fire as it burned fiercer and fiercer. It spread so rapidly, that he began to think the Merchant's Exchange (then deemed fire proof) might catch. Bells ceased to ring, and were rung no more that night. Bell ringers were paralyzed—firemen were aghast—the water froze. About midnight, when the fire was most grand, there was comparative stillness, except its roar. It was an awful silence. The clerk determined to go up town, and find Mr. Sagory. As he passed along the silent streets, he was surprised at the apparent indifference of people up town to the burning city. The fact was, that few people in the upper wards had the least idea that there was a fire down town. The clerk did not find his employer, and hurried back, just in time to enter the store of Rogers & Co., and secure the portfolio with its valuable contents. Then came the fiery deluge down Exchange street, sweeping stores, okurches and dwellings, like chaff. It was near Broad street. The church of Doctor Mathews, though surrounded by a graveyard, caught in twenty places, and was a mass of ruins inside of thirty minutes. Then more stores, and the sea of fire would move on, all ready to cross Broad street, and then—God have mercy on the devoted city!—the fire would have swept up to Broadway and down to the North River. A building in Exchange street, near Broad, and opposite to the Reformed Church, was blown up, and the fire was stayed. Had it not been stopped, it would have in less then ten minutes more reached the stores of Stebbins, Brouwer & Co., 41 Broad street. In these cellars were nearly 1000 pipes and half pipes of brandy, belonging to Charles Squires. That brandy would have scattered the fire, or sent it across Broad street.

It was a horrid sight next morning to witness the arrival of old merchants down town at about their usual hour. Their faces were pictures of consternation. But little did these merchants, when they witnessed their warehouses a pile of ruins, dream of the extent of the damage. As prudent merchants generally act, so had they. "I am fully insured," were the words of each. Insured! Bah! Every fire insurance company was broken ten times over, and their capitals could not pay ten cents on the dollar. Mr. Sagory came down town among others. He had not heard of the fire until he reached Wall street, and soon after he found himself in front of the ruins where the store of Rogers & Co. had stood, when he had left it the night previous. The books of the house had been saved, and what was of more consequence than all, that "portfolio" with its great value. He, too, relied upon fire insurance policies to make good his losses, and like hundreds of other merchants was doomed to grievous disappointment.

It was some days before merchants realized the extent of the fire calamity in 1835. It was not felt at once, nor for some months, but finally it came, and such a panic as followed—such failures, were never known before nor since. But bravely and manfully that house of Rogers & Co. stood up, engineered as it was by Mr. Sagory. Drafts for tobacco poured in from the South. They were accepted and paid at maturity. By and by the news came that the London tobacco house of Warwick & Claggett had failed, and if so, Rogers & Co. had reason to expect at least half a million of dollars of bills to be returned, and on which they would have to pay 10 per cent, damage. But no. This did not happen, Mr. Rogers himself crossed from France to London and paid the drafts of his New York house as they became clue. All this while Rogers & Co. had to sustain not only their own Southern house, but their Philadelphia connections.

John McCrea was a most curious man. I have spoken of him as owning so many ships. He seemed to do all his extensive business himself. He purchased a ship or built her, and would at once come to New York, and with Rogers & Co. make up a voyage for her. The mode of operating was ingenious, and while the United States Bank of Pennsylvania was in existence, could be done to any extent. We will say that McCrea purchased a ship for $30,000, (without a cent in his pocket) cash. He would go to Bevan & Humphreys (old Mat. Bevan was president, "to close up the concern "of the old United States Bank.)

"I want to raise $25,000 on such a ship on the usual terms. I have got her a freight to Liverpool of $9,000, and I want to raise $5,000 on that freight list."

Mr. Bevan would consent to the arrangement, and discount the notes of Mr. McCrea for six months. Mr. McCrea would take the sums and go and pay for the ship and receive a bill of sale for her. He would give another bill of sale to Bevan & Humphreys, and the register would of course be issued to B. & H. as collateral security for McCrea's notes. Bevan & Humphreys charged two per cent, for making these advances. McCrea would plan his voyage well, and when the ship returned she perhaps had half paid for herself, and notes would be renewed until she was clear, when he would make her the basis of a new mercantile operation, and so it went on for years.

Now and then McCrea would make an enormous sum. He really owned nineteen or twenty ships, and yet their registers were all acting as collateral security to some other operation, an iron mine in Juniata county, or a speculation of $250,000 in domestics, in New York, purchased by William Stewart, the dry goods broker. Millions on millions of business was done in this apparent loose way by Mr. McCrea. So long as he had cash for a margin he cared not. He kept no books, unless pencil figures on the back of old letters, and little slips of paper in his pockets, could be called books. This extraordinary man had to be kept straight by Rogers & Co., for McCrea was always ready for an operation of $100,000 or $1,000,000, and would carry it through, and that, too, when he had to borrow a five dollar bill to carry him back to Philadelphia. Mr. McCrea had another great financial friend in this city. It was John N. Gossler, the New York agent of the great bankers in London, Thomas Wilson & Co. Mr McCrea named one of his new ships the "John N Gossler." She made several very lucky voyages.