'MISLIKE me not for my complexion.'--MERCHANT OF VENICE.
ON Saturday afternoon, the sixteenth day of October, 1858, something
extraordinary occurred to change the dreadful routine of my life. I
cannot now recall it without a sudden quickening of the pulse. Then
it rendered me for a time nearly insensible.
On Saturday afternoon, the sixteenth day of October, 1858, the
postman brought into my office a letter for me, received two cents,
and departed. Before I state the contents of this letter, I will
give the reader some account of myself. On the said sixteenth day
of October, 1858, I occupied an office--no, I had 'desk room in a
basement-office, No. -- Wall-street. I was a note-broker; no, I was
not a note-broker, but a sort of Man-Friday to several note-brokers
and to several note-shavers, men well to do in the world, whose
property consists in cash in hand, and who, spider-like, repose
quietly in their dens, and suck the marrow out of hard-working
men--industrious, laborious citizens--unfortunate devils who have
not much credit at the banks, and who are, in consequence, like
other unfortunates of another sex, forced upon the 'street.'
At the date aforesaid, I was a jackal, tender, runner, pilot-fish,
satellite, serf, toad-eater, or any other humiliating phrase you
choose, reader, to employ, for the respectable class of note-brokers
and note-shavers just referred to. Do not suppose I was in love
with my situation. Do not suppose I was not keenly alive to the
disgusting office from which I could not escape. Day by day, when
wearied and worn out with incessant toil, and humiliated by varying
but never-ending exhibitions of coarseness and arrogance, I would
go to my home, resolving never again to expose myself to these;
the sight of two daughters grown into womanhood--two motherless
daughters--and a son, also grown to man's estate, and dying
gradually of consumption, would send me back the next morning to the
'street,' meek, sorrowful, submissive. How did I come to this? How,
gradually, from the enjoyment of wealth and 'fashionable society,'
and friends without number, and what are called the 'delights of
social intercourse;' from influence and consideration; from all,
in short, that is deemed desirable, and highly respectable, and
absolutely the thing; how, I say, gradually did I come to pay two
dollars a week for 'desk-room' in the basement of No. -- Wall-street?
'T is no new story--'t is the old story, scarcely with variations.
I am sixty-one years old--almost sixty-two. In 1837 I was a
leading importer of silk goods in this city. I lived in what was
then a superb house in Broadway, a little above Bond-street. I
visited Europe frequently--on business, it is true; but my tastes
were refined, and my education good; for, although destined to a
commercial life, my father, who took a wide and liberal view of
what was required for an accomplished merchant, had sent me to
'Yale,' where I graduated respectably, and from whence I entered
a counting-room. These European trips, therefore, were not thrown
away on me. My wife, sometimes, went with me, till the care of
young children prevented. The crisis of 1837 swept over the entire
country like a tornado, and it carried our firm irretrievably under.
I was in the very vigor of manhood, and I laughed at calamity. I
only felt the stronger to resist and to conquer. Just as soon as we
could discover the extent of the disaster, I set to work to clear
the wreck and to prepare a statement, so that I could put a clean
sheet before our creditors, offer to them all we had, and request a
discharge. But our creditors were not to be found. They, in their
turn, had gone down, had made assignments, had no power to give
discharges; all was blended in a general insolvency--a universal
ruin; and so our firm made an assignment, like the rest. I was not
discouraged. I occupied myself, for a time, in aiding the assignee,
at our old counting-room. We still had our house, as before--it was
the inheritance of my wife--and I felt no shame in living in it,
since I had surrendered every dollar's worth of my own property to
the assignee. Soon, I discovered that it was a hopeless task to
endeavor to make any thing out of our bankrupt estate. What should
I do? I could attempt no business in my own name, and I saw no hope
of relief from thraldom. A man in the prime of life, full of energy
and courage and resolution, to be chained hand and foot, and kept in
perpetual bondage! About this time, my friend Russell remarked to
me (Russell had, through his wife, come into possession of a large
fortune, consisting principally of unincumbered real estate in the
city, and did nothing but look carefully to the collection of the
rents)--Russell, I say, remarked to me, in his cool, supercilious
way: 'I tell you what it is, Parkinson, there is no necessity for a
man's failing--none whatever. Just look at me, now!' At that moment,
I was in a very bitter mood, and I am afraid I cursed Russell in
my heart. I do not know, but I think I have hated him ever since;
for, in after-years, when I used to walk wearily past his house, (I
saved sixpence by not riding,) I saw him stepping into his carriage
for an evening drive, glossy and sleek and full-fed, sometimes--GOD
forgive me--yes, sometimes, between my close compressed teeth have
escaped, as if spontaneously and not to be repressed, the words,
'damn him!' I mention this, because I do not believe, with some,
that poverty tends to improve and subdue the evil in our hearts; if
it does, why, looking thus at Russell, in his fine, open landau, did
the gall so rise and overflow? Well, two or three years ran away. We
had preserved an outward semblance of our old life. Friends had not
absolutely dropped off. I had no rent to pay, and my wife knew how
to economize. But, every now and then, visions of the wolf began to
haunt me. It was only the head which appeared, thrust through the
door into the parlor, exhibiting the slightest possible curl in the
long, sharp mouth, disclosing two pointed ivory fangs--disclosing,
but for an instant, two pointed ivory fangs, and then quickly
concealed, and the head as quickly withdrawn. My GOD! reader, do
_you_ know by experience any thing of the sensations produced by
such an apparition? Do you know what it is to have a wife, who
clings to you, quite safe in her protector, and young children, who
look to 'papa' as to OMNIPOTENCE?... At last the year of Jubilee
was announced. A general Bankrupt Law! Men's faces brightened with
hope again. Hurried congratulations passed from lip to lip. Hands
were grasped with an almost unnatural fervor. Jubilee! release from
bondage! joy--joy over the whole land! Yet Russell, who, with all
his care--with all his close, sharp, persisting management--had,
now and then, been victimized, as he called it, by an unfortunate
debtor, who, his security having failed, was found wanting on
the last quarter-day--Russell, who had sometimes foreclosed a
mortgage, and, taking advantage of the depressed state of things,
had bid in the property for one-half its value, and thus obtained
a decree over against the once happy possessor of a comfortable
home--Russell was, as a matter of principle--oh! yes, wholly as a
matter of principle--opposed to the general bankrupt law! opposed
to any relief for the thousands and tens of thousands who, indebted
beyond the faintest hope of retrieve, were suffering the torture
of despair. But Russell's objection to the law--on principle, mind
you--fortunately had but slight effect on the happy applicants for
its favor. I was among the first to take advantage of the Act. I met
with no opposition, and, in a short time I was free. This was early
in the year 1842. I now cast about to decide what I should do. I
concluded not to embark in the old business. I thought it would be
easier to renew confidence, and make a credit, in some other line
of mercantile affairs. This was perhaps an error, because I had
been thoroughly educated to that particular branch, and I should
have much to learn in commencing on another. Looking back, I think
that pride lay at the bottom of this; pride, because I could not at
once start on my old footing; pride, that many younger men, who had
commenced since I had stopped, were already so much in advance of
any thing I could undertake. I did not understand this, then; but
now I know myself better. At the same time, let it be understood
that, in New-York, five years comprise almost a business generation.
I had been laid one side, and shelved for just five years; and
now, when I was preparing to start again, I had to compete with a
new race of merchants, younger, keener, fresher than the race who
had gone under. This did not alarm me. I had confidence in myself,
and I preferred to encounter those who exhibited intelligence and
activity in affairs, rather than the incompetent and stupid. After
considerable reflection, I resolved to commence a wholesale grocery
business, which should include, from time to time, legitimate
operations, sometimes in cotton, sometimes in produce. I started
with a cash capital of twenty-five thousand dollars. Fifteen
thousand of this my wife insisted on raising by a mortgage upon the
house we lived in. Five thousand more was contributed by my mother:
it was about the portion to which I would be entitled on her death,
and she urged me strongly to receive it then. She was old, she
said, and had no longer the wants nor the wishes of younger folks.
I took the fifteen thousand from my wife, and the five thousand
from my mother, with some misgivings. It was my only chance, though;
what weakness to refuse it! A friend--a tried, thoroughly tried
friend--a college mate, who was possessed of large means, lent
me other five thousand, without security, and with a declaration
that, in event of misfortune, he would not permit me to treat it as
'confidential.' Behold me, then, with twenty-five thousand dollars
in cash, with a junior partner, who put in three thousand dollars,
and who was brought up to the business, and favorably introduced to
me by the old and experienced firm of Powell, Weatherby, Keep and
Company--behold me, on the first day of January, 1843, in a fine,
spacious store in Front-street, my flag once more to the wind:
Charles E. Parkinson and Company.
There was great joy on that first day of January, 1843, at our house
in Broadway, a little above Bond-street; an open house it was, and
many were the New-Year's visits my wife received, and many the
visits I made. All the gloom, and hope deferred, of the past six
years, were forgotten. The three little folks--my two little girls,
and my one little boy--partook, without knowing why, in the general
hilarity.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
I found, on setting seriously to work at my new business, that I
had every thing to learn. My partner proved to be an active and
intelligent young man. He knew the routine of the trade well, and,
although he sometimes assumed more than was becoming a comparative
youth, I cannot say he took advantage of his position; nor am I
aware that he ever violated the rules of our copartnership. He made
two or three pretty large bad debts, the first six months we were
together, which had the good effect to lower his self-confidence,
and to lead him to me more frequently for advice. With the best
possible management, the thirty-first of December, 1843, found me,
after deducting family expenses and interest-money, with a small
inroad made on the capital. It found me, however, in good health,
with strong courage, and a competent knowledge of my business, no
longer dependent on my junior for advice or suggestions. There
was one drawback quite unexpected. On commencing business, I
felt myself fairly entitled to a first-rate commercial credit.
Frequently, through the year, I discovered there was some mysterious
influence working against me. I would be on the point of closing
some advantageous operation, which required the giving of our
acceptances for considerable amounts, when the parties would return,
after a little, and regret that they could not enter into the
arrangement--that they found they could not employ our paper as they
anticipated, and so forth. Now, I had reason to know that we stood
well at both the banks where we did business, and further, that
the officers of both these institutions did not hesitate to speak
favorably of our firm, when applied to. What could it mean? Was
there a snake in the grass--a secret foe--a disappointed creditor,
perhaps, of 1837? After mentioning these facts to an old friend,
and after his puzzling a good deal over it, he suddenly exclaimed:
'Parkinson, how do you stand at the Mercantile Agency?' 'At what?'
said I, not exactly understanding him. 'At the Mercantile Agency,'
he repeated; 'what I call our 'Commercial Intelligence Office.'
I don't know what we should do without it, though sometimes they
do get a little astray there, but they are always ready to correct
mistakes.' My friend's suggestion struck me as a very probable
one, and I wondered it had not occurred to me. I requested him,
therefore, to obtain a report of the standing of our firm at the
agency aforesaid. He procured it the next day. It read as follows:
'CHARLES E. PARKINSON AND COMPANY, (Charles E. Parkinson and Edwin
E. Rollins.) Wholesale grocers, respectable house, in fair credit.
Established 1st January, 1843. Parkinson was importer of silk goods
prior to 1837, and failed. Took the benefit of the Bankrupt Law.
Unacquainted with present business; put in twenty-five thousand
dollars. _Nearly all borrowed_, ($15,000 from his wife's estate,)
_and which will probably be treated as confidential, should he
fail_. Keeps house, and lives expensively. Rollins, unmarried
man, about twenty-five, brought up to the business in the concern
of Powell, Weatherby, Keep and Company. Puts in three thousand
dollars. In trade for first time on his own account. Firm doing
large business. Mem. (July, 1843:) said to have made some heavy
losses. Mem. (August, 1843:) Rollins drives a good deal on the road.
Supposed to own a very handsome turn-out.'
I read this _ex-parte_ judgment with mingled surprise and
indignation. Scanning it with more scrutiny, a second and third
time, I was forced into a train of philosophical reflections.
After all, the Mercantile Agency had stated but the truth, that
is, mainly. It was the _inferences_ drawn from the facts, which
were so damaging. Yet the inferences were natural. One could not
accuse the 'Mercantile Agency' of any malicious _intent_. Yes, the
inferences were natural, but mind you, reader, they were FALSE.
And I had been suffering for a twelve-month from what was really
a cruel and a slanderous statement. The fifteen thousand dollars,
raised by mortgage on my wife's house, was absolutely given to me
for capital. No evidence of indebtedness was taken, no recognition
of it on our books, otherwise than as cash belonging to and put in
by me. The debt of five thousand dollars to my friend was, as I have
before stated, actually placed, by a positive understanding, as an
ordinary indebtedness. The statement that I had made some bad debts
was true, but it did not add, what was more essential, that the
senior partner, myself, was a strictly business man, and had gone
through his first year in a new line, with little loss, supporting
his family meanwhile, and gaining a thorough insight into affairs.
Again, poor Rollins came in for a sharp hit, in the way of driving
a fast team. Now, Rollins was really economical. He lived with, and
supported his mother and some younger brothers, and his habits were
unexceptionable. It so happened that a wealthy cousin of Rollins,
who did drive a pair of good horses, went out of town for nearly all
the month of August, and told R. he might exercise his team while
he was gone, if he liked. Rollins had informed me of this, and I
believe he enjoyed his drives for about three weeks, and resigned
his 'turn-out,' without regret, on his cousin's return. Here, again,
the Mercantile Agency had stated a fact, and, with it, a _false
inference_. However, now that I saw where the difficulty existed,
it was easy to remedy it. I called at the office of the 'Agency,'
with two influential business friends--'undoubted' names--and went
into an entire explanation. It was satisfactory. The statement as
to my capital, 'Nearly all borrowed,' was erased, or rather, a new
statement was prepared and entered on the books, quite clear and to
the purpose. Poor Rollin's inexpensive drives were no longer marked
against him. In short, our firm stood 'right' on the books, and we
were thus well advertised. We had no longer any difficulty about our
'paper;' indeed, we now enjoyed all the facilities to which a good
credit entitled us.
And here permit me to digress a little, in order to say a word
about 'mercantile agencies' generally. The system has been greatly
elaborated since 1844. Complete method has been introduced
through all its branches, and a most unique and surprising skill
is displayed in the information obtained, and in the general
characterizations. The enemies of the system complain that it
produces an espionage worse a thousand-fold than that under a
European despotism; that no circumstance of private or domestic
life is safe from the prying, eager curiosity of these keen
investigators, who are paid well for gleaning. In short, that the
whole affair is a shame and a scandal to a free country. On the
other side, it is retorted, that no honest man fears to have the
veil drawn aside which may conceal his minutest acts. That such
a man courts investigation, and claims to be judged by it; and
that those only are opposed to the plan who suffer from having the
truth told of them. Now, my view of the question is not based on
either of these hypotheses. It seems to me that the mischief lies
in another direction. The agency undertakes to give information
by which subscribers can form reliable judgments of a merchant's
responsibility, and so forth. This is very desirable, and if the
agencies accomplish this they certainly render a service to the
commercial community. But the truth is, we do not form an opinion
of an individual so much from certain absolute facts we hear of
him as from his _general reputation_. Every man, every firm,
every incorporated company, does, in some way and by some sure
process, after a time acquire a general reputation--good, bad or
indifferent--for which one would be puzzled to state any reason
or cause whatever, but which is true in ninety-nine cases of a
hundred. So well settled is this, that our courts, when a person's
character is under investigation, will not permit, in the first
instance, questions to be asked except as to _general_ reputation.
The 'agencies,' with the best intent, doubtless, busy themselves
with picking up circumstances. A merchant rushes in and reads the
record; he thus goes to an _ex-parte_ tribunal, where reputation is
manufactured out of one set of facts, instead of into the world,
where currents of opinion flow free, and where truth and error have
a fair field for contest. If any one doubts this, let him look at
the 'record' of four merchants out of five who fail, and he will
find that these merchants took especial pains to keep that record
fair. My opinion frankly is, that these agencies have their growth
in our great desire to save ourselves the trouble of forming an
opinion, so that we readily welcome one manufactured for us. It
is very convenient to be told off-hand what really nobody can
ever know; whether a merchant is 'good' or not: and I believe our
agencies would come badly off to-day in a series of libel-suits,
one-half of which should be commenced by their patrons for too
favorable statements, whereby those patrons lost their money; and
the other half by the subjects of mercantile criticism, whereby such
subjects lost their credit. I refer to what is got together and
reported about our city merchants. As to the reports recorded in the
city of the standing of people through all the towns and villages of
the United States, I reject them as generally the preparation of one
man, (in each place,) who is biased one way or the other, so that he
returns an opinion either much too severe or much too favorable, and
by which the merchant here is quite sure to be misled.
To return: I had no further reason to complain of the 'Agency.'
They told the truth about me, and drew no disagreeable inferences.
Indeed, after a while they began to exaggerate my position, for on
the day I failed my record stood as follows: 'First-rate house.
Credit A 1. Thoroughly up in their business. Large capital: said
to be at least a quarter of a million. Reported to have cleared
over fifty thousand dollars the last season in produce. Very
cautious operators.' Not to anticipate. The year 1844 was for us the
commencement of a new season of prosperity. With great assiduity and
great watchfulness the firm retrieved the losses of the previous
year, strengthened its credit, changed some important details in the
mode of conducting its business, and gradually settled on a prudent
and safe basis of operations. From that time we took position among
the 'leading merchants.'...
The years 1845 and 1846 passed very happily: yes, very happily,
because prosperously and without drawback of any kind. To become
once more a man among men. To encounter an acquaintance, and
meet his scrutinizing look with an air of conscious strength and
stability. To feel that you are no longer exposed to the humiliating
sympathy of 'friends,' or the silent triumph of enemies. To be
assured that you form again a part and portion of the activity which
supports and moves the world; that you are of consequence in it, and
recognized accordingly, recognized by old companions with whom you
used to engage in various affairs; many of whom sincerely regretted
what befell you, and honestly rejoice in your reäppearance in the
business arena; who shake hands with you with a smile, and a look as
much as to say: 'I knew you would come out all right. Glad to see
you here.' To pass from the dreary stupor of inactivity to fresh,
hopeful, energetic action; to plan and form combinations; to feel
yourself gradually and surely gaining ground; to enjoy the healthful
happiness of an ascending scale; to get on, to prosper, to again
grow rich, and find every thing around you cheerful; to witness
'troops of friends' returning to range once more under your banner,
with many apologies for absence, and so forth--apologies which you
receive amiably, (as if you had never felt bitterness of heart, and
gangrene, and hatred on their account;) which you not only receive
amiably but excuse, making due allowance for human infirmities. (You
forgive, and your misfortunes are forgiven, but see to it that you
repeat not the offence, lest a worse evil overtake you.) To pass
through all this, rising meanwhile till, like the man of Uz, your
possessions greatly exceed their former proportions. Well! life _is_
worth something at that. How agreeable to have money; how pleasant
not to be forced to calculate! How charming for us, the favored
few, few by comparison, to express a wish for what we desire, and
lo! it is supplied; to plan out new pleasures, and enter into their
enjoyment; to find all things practicable, all things yielding; to
encounter smiles and approbation every where; to find every avenue
smoothed for our approach, every path made pleasant. Why not? Why
should not these things be desirable and acceptable, and very
enjoyable?...
So in the midst of business successes and social delights, was
ushered in the notable season of 1847. Some perhaps who read these
pages have cause to remember that memorable year. To such the
index, '1847,' will not be viewed without emotion. Nay, to those
who date from it the beginning of, to them, a period of misery
and misfortune, of blight and calamity, of stagnation of soul and
withering up of energy--leaving them walking nonentities, collapsed
and dwindling gradually away, instead of living, enterprising
beings, to such did the figures '1847' appear spectral; and when
seen printed here, will cause a shock like that produced by some
fancied apparition from the dead.... Thus, as I said, with much
joyousness and merry-making, amid Christmas festivities and gayeties
and frolics came in the crisis-year. And I will proceed to explain
how I happened to be paying two dollars a week for desk-room in the
basement No. -- Wall-street.