THE JEROME CLOCK COMPANY ENTANGLEMENT.
THE EAST BRIDGEPORT ENTERPRISE--W. H. NOBLE--PLANS FOR A NEW
CITY--DR. TIMOTHY DWIGHT’S TESTIMONY--INVESTING A FORTUNE--SELLING
CITY LOTS--MONEY MAKING A SECONDARY CONSIDERATION--CLOCK COMPANY IN
LITCHFIELD--THE “TERRY AND BARNUM MANUFACTURING COMPANY”--THE
JEROME CLOCK COMPANY--BAITING FOR BITES--FALSE REPRESENTATIONS--HOW
I WAS DELUDED--WHAT I AGREED TO DO--THE COUNTER AGREEMENT--NOTES
WITH BLANK DATES--THE LIMIT OF MY RESPONSIBILITY--HOW IT WAS
EXCEEDED--STARTLING DISCOVERIES--A RUINED MAN--PAYING MY OWN HONEST
DEBTS--BARNUM DUPED--MY FAILURE--THE BARNUM AND JEROME CLOCK
BUBBLE--MORALISTS MAKING USE OF MY MISFORTUNES--WHAT PREACHERS,
PAPERS, AND PEOPLE SAID ABOUT ME--DOWN IN THE DEPTHS.
I now come to a series of events which, all things considered,
constitute one of the most remarkable experiences of my life--an
experience which brought me much pain and many trials; which humbled my
pride and threatened me with hopeless financial ruin; and yet,
nevertheless, put new blood in my veins, fresh vigor in my action,
warding off all temptation to rust in the repose which affluence
induces, and developed, I trust, new and better elements of manliness in
my character. This trial carried me through a severe and costly
discipline, and now that I have passed through it and have triumphed
over it, I can thank God for sending it upon me, though I feel no
special obligations to the human instruments employed in the severe
chastening.
When the blow fell upon me, I thought that I could never recover; the
event has shown, however, that I have gained both in character and
fortune, and what threatened, for years, to be my ruin, has proved one
of the most fortunate happenings of my career. The “Bull Run” of my
life’s battle was a crushing defeat, which, unknown to me at the time,
only presaged the victories which were to follow.
In my general plan of presenting the facts and incidents of my life in
chronological order, I shall necessarily introduce in the history of the
next seven years, an account of my entanglement in the “Jerome Clock
Company,”--how I was drawn into it, how I got out of it, and what it did
to me and for me. The great notoriety given to my connection with this
concern--the fact that the journals throughout the country made it the
subject of news, gossip, sympathy, abuse, and advice to and about me, my
friends, my persecutors, and the public generally--seems to demand that
the story should be briefly but plainly told. The event itself has
passed away and with it the passions and excitements that were born of
it; and I certainly have no desire now to deal in personalities or to go
into the question of the motives which influenced those who were
interested, any farther than may be strictly essential to a fair and
candid statement of the case.
It is vital to the narrative that I should give some account of the new
city, East Bridgeport, and my interests therein, which led directly to
my subsequent complications with the Jerome Clock Company.
In 1851, I purchased from Mr. William H. Noble, of Bridgeport, the
undivided half of his late father’s homestead, consisting of fifty acres
of land; lying on the east side of the river, opposite the City of
Bridgeport. We intended this as the nucleus of a new city, which we
concluded could soon be built up, in consequence of many natural
advantages that it possesses.
Before giving publicity to our plans, however, we purchased one hundred
and seventy-four acres contiguous to that which we already owned, and
laid out the entire property in regular streets, and lined them with
trees, reserving a beautiful grove of six or eight acres, which we
inclosed, and converted into a public park. We then commenced selling
alternate lots, at the same price which the land cost us by the acre.
Our sales were always made on the condition that a suitable
dwelling-house, store, or manufactory should be erected upon the land,
within one year from the date of purchase; that every building should be
placed at a certain distance from the street, in a style of architecture
approved by us; that the grounds should be enclosed with acceptable
fences, and kept clean and neat, with other conditions which would
render the locality a desirable one for respectable residents, and
operate for the mutual benefit of all persons who should become settlers
in the new city.
This entire property consists of a beautiful plateau of ground, lying
within less than half a mile of the centre of Bridgeport city.
Considering the superiority of the situation, it is a wonder that the
City of Bridgeport was not originally founded upon that side of the
river. The late Dr. Timothy Dwight, for a long time President of Yale
College, in his “Travels in New England in 1815,” says of the locality:
“There is not in the State a prettier village than the borough of
Bridgeport. In the year 1783, there were scarcely half a dozen houses
in this place. It now contains probably more than one hundred, built on
both sides of Pughquonnuck (Pequonnock) river, a beautiful mill-stream,
forming at its mouth the harbor of Bridgeport. The situation of this
village is very handsome, particularly on the eastern side of the river.
A more cheerful and elegant piece of ground can scarcely be imagined
than the point which stretches between the Pughquonnuck and the old
mill-brook; and the prospects presented by the harbors at the mouths of
these streams, the Sound, and the surrounding country, are, in a fine
season, gay and brilliant, perhaps without a parallel.”
This “cheerful and elegant piece of ground,” as Dr. Dwight so truly
describes it, had only been kept from market by the want of means of
access. A new foot-bridge was built, connecting this place with the City
of Bridgeport, and a public toll-bridge which belonged to us was thrown
open to the public free. We also obtained from the State Legislature a
charter for erecting a toll-bridge between the two bridges already
existing, and under that charter we put up a fine covered draw-bridge at
a cost of $16,000 which also we made free to the public for several
years. We built and leased to a union company of young coach makers a
large and elegant coach manufactory, which was one of the first
buildings erected there, and which went into operation on the first of
January, 1852, and was the beginning of the extensive manufactories
which were subsequently built in East Bridgeport.
Besides the inducement which we held out to purchasers to obtain their
lots at a merely nominal price, we advanced one half, two-thirds, and
frequently all the funds necessary to erect their buildings, permitting
them to repay us in sums as small as five dollars, at their own
convenience. This arrangement enabled many persons to secure and
ultimately pay for homes which they could not otherwise have obtained.
We looked for our profits solely to the rise in the value of the
reserved lots, which we were confident must ensue. Of course, these
extraordinary inducements led many persons to build in the new city, and
it began to develop and increase with a rapidity rarely witnessed in
this section of the country. Indeed, our speculation, which might be
termed a profitable philanthropy, soon promised to be so remunerative,
that I offered Mr. Noble for his interest in the estate, $60,000 more
than the prime cost, which offer he declined.
It will thus be seen that, in 1851, my pet scheme was to build up a city
in East Bridgeport. I had made a large fortune and was anxious to be
released from the harassing cares of active business. But I could not be
idle, and if I could be instrumental in giving value to land
comparatively worthless; if I could by the judicious investment of a
portion of my capital open the way for new industries and new homes, I
should be of service to my fellow men and find grateful employment for
my energies and time. I saw that in case of success there was profit in
my project, and I was enough like mankind in general to look upon the
enlargement of my means as a consummation devoutly and legitimately to
be wished.
Yet, I can truly say that mere money-making was a secondary
consideration in my scheme. I wanted to build a city on the beautiful
plateau across the river; in the expressive phrase of the day, I “had
East Bridgeport on the brain.” Whoever approached me with a project
which looked to the advancement of my new city, touched my weak side and
found me an eager listener. The serpent that beguiled me was any
plausible proposition that promised prosperity to East Bridgeport, and
it was in this way that the coming city connected me with that source of
so many annoyances and woes, the Jerome Clock Company.
There was a small clock manufactory in the town of Litchfield,
Connecticut, in which I became a stockholder to the amount of six or
seven thousand dollars, and my duties as a director in the company
called me occasionally to Litchfield and made me somewhat acquainted
with the clock business. Thinking of plans to forward my pet East
Bridgeport enterprise, it occurred to me that if the Litchfield clock
concern could be transferred to my prospective new city, it would
necessarily bring many families, thus increasing the growth of the place
and the value of the property. Negotiations were at once commenced and
the desired transfer of the business was the result. A new stock company
was formed under the name of the “Terry & Barnum Manufacturing Company,”
and in 1852 a factory was built in East Bridgeport.
In 1855, I received a suggestion from a citizen of New Haven, that the
Jerome Clock Company, then reputed to be a wealthy concern, should be
removed to East Bridgeport, and shortly afterwards I was visited at
Iranistan by Mr. Chauncey Jerome, the President of that company. The
result of this visit was a proposition from the agent of the company,
who also held power of attorney for the president, that I should lend my
name as security for $110,000 in aid of the Jerome Clock Company, and
the proffered compensation was the transfer of this great manufacturing
concern, with its seven hundred to one thousand operatives, to my
beloved East Bridgeport. It was just the bait for the fish; I was all
attention; yet I must do my judgment the justice to say that I called
for proofs, strong and ample, that the great company deserved its
reputation as a substantial enterprise that might safely be trusted.
Accordingly, I was shown an official report of the directors of the
company, exhibiting a capital of $400,000, and a surplus of $187,000, in
all, $587,000. The need for $110,000 more, was on account of a dull
season, and the market glutted with the goods, and immediate money
demands which must be met. I was also impressed with the pathetic tale
that the company was exceedingly loth to dismiss any of the operatives,
who would suffer greatly if their only dependence for their daily food
was taken away.
The official statement seemed satisfactory, and I cordially sympathized
with the philanthropic purpose of keeping the workmen employed, even in
the dull season. The company was reputed to be rich; the President, Mr.
Chauncey Jerome, had built a church in New Haven, at a cost of $40,000,
and proposed to present it to a congregation; he had given a clock to a
church in Bridgeport, and these things showed that he, at least, thought
he was wealthy. The Jerome clocks were for sale all over the world, even
in China, where the Celestials were said to take out the “movements,”
and use the cases for little temples for their idols, thus proving that
faith was possible without “works.” So wealthy and so widely-known a
company would surely be a grand acquisition to my city.
Further testimony came in the form of a letter from the cashier of one
of the New Haven banks, expressing the highest confidence in the
financial strength of the concern, and much satisfaction that I
contemplated giving temporary aid which would keep so many workmen and
their families from suffering, and perhaps starvation. I had not, at the
time, the slightest suspicion that my voluntary correspondent had any
interest in the transfer of the Jerome Company from New Haven to East
Bridgeport, though I was subsequently informed that the bank, of which
my correspondent was the cashier, was almost the largest, if not the
largest, creditor of the clock company.
Under all the circumstances, and influenced by the rose-colored
representations made to me, not less than by my mania to push the growth
of my new city, I finally accepted the proposition and consented to an
agreement that I would lend the clock company my notes for a sum not to
exceed $50,000, and accept drafts to an amount not to exceed $60,000. It
was thoroughly understood that I was in no case to be responsible for
one cent in excess of $110,000. I also received the written guaranty of
Chauncey Jerome that in no event should I lose by the loan, as he would
become personally responsible for the repayment. I was willing that my
notes, when taken up, should be renewed, I cared not how often, provided
the stipulated maximum of $110,000 should never be exceeded. I was weak
enough, however, under the representation that it was impossible to say
exactly when it would be necessary to use the notes, to put my name to
several notes for $3,000, $5,000, and $10,000, leaving the date of
payment blank; but it was agreed that the blanks should be filled to
make the notes payable in five, ten, or even sixty days from date,
according to the exigencies of the case, and I was careful to keep a
memorandum of the several amounts of the notes.
On the other side it was agreed that the Jerome Company should exchange
its stock with the Terry & Barnum stockholders and thus absorb that
company and unite the entire business in East Bridgeport. It was
scarcely a month before the secretary wrote me that the company would
soon be in condition to “snap its fingers at the banks.”
Nevertheless, three months after the consolidation of the companies, a
reference to my memoranda showed that I had already become responsible
for the stipulated sum of $110,000. I was then called upon in New York
by the agent who wanted five notes of $5,000 each and I declined to
furnish them, unless I should receive in return an equal amount in my
own cancelled notes, since he assured me they were cancelling these
“every week.” The cancelled notes were brought to me next day and I
renewed them. This I did frequently, always receiving cancelled notes,
till finally my confidence in the company became so established that I
did not ask to see the notes that had been taken up, but furnished new
accommodation paper as it was called for.
By and by I heard that the banks began to hesitate about discounting my
paper, and knowing that I was good for $110,000 several times over, I
wondered what was the matter, till the discovery came at last that my
notes had not been taken up as was represented, and that some of the
blank date notes had been made payable in twelve, eighteen, and
twenty-four months. Further investigation revealed the frightful fact
that I had endorsed for the clock company to the extent of more than
half a million dollars, and most of the notes had been exchanged for old
Jerome Company notes due to the banks and other creditors. My agent who
made these startling discoveries came back to me with the refreshing
intelligence that I was a ruined man!
Not quite; I had the mountain of Jerome debts on my back, but I found
means to pay every claim against me at my bank, all my store and shop
debts, notes to the amount of $40,000, which banks in my neighborhood,
relying upon my personal integrity, had discounted for the Clock
Company, and then I--failed!
What a dupe had I been! Here was a great company pretending to be worth
$587,000, asking temporary assistance to the amount of $110,000, coming
down with a crash, so soon as my helping hand was removed, and sweeping
me down with it. It failed; and even after absorbing my fortune, it paid
but from twelve to fifteen per cent of its obligations, while, to cap
the climax, it never removed to East Bridgeport at all, notwithstanding
this was the only condition which ever prompted me to advance one dollar
to the rotten concern!
If at any time my vanity had been chilled by the fear that after my
retirement from the Jenny Lind enterprise the world would forget me,
this affair speedily reassured me; I had notice enough to satisfy the
most inordinate craving for notoriety. All over the country, and even
across the ocean, “Barnum and the Jerome Clock Bubble” was the great
newspaper theme. I was taken to pieces, analyzed, put together again,
kicked, “pitched into,” tumbled about, preached to, preached about, and
made to serve every purpose to which a sensation-loving world could put
me. Well! I was now in training, in a new school, and was learning new
and strange lessons.
Yet, these new lessons conveyed the old, old story. There were those who
had fawned upon me in my prosperity, who now jeered at my adversity;
people whom I had specially favored, made special efforts to show their
ingratitude; papers which, when I had the means to make it an object for
them to be on good terms with me, overloaded me with adulation, now
attempted to overwhelm me with abuse; and then the immense amount of
moralizing over the “instability of human fortunes,” and especially the
retributive justice that is sure to follow “ill-gotten gains,” which my
censors assumed to be the sum and substance of my honorably acquired and
industriously worked for property. I have no doubt that much of this
kind of twaddle was believed by the twaddlers to be sincere; and thus my
case was actual capital to certain preachers and religious editors who
were in want of fresh illustrations wherewith to point their morals.
As for myself, I was in the depths, but I did not despond. I was
confident that with energetic purpose and divine assistance I should, if
my health and life were spared, get on my feet again; and events have
since fully justified and verified the expectation and the effort.