BRITON WITH ORIENTAL IMAGINATION SEEKS TO LURE INVESTORS WITH
TALES OF MOUNTAIN OF SILVER.
_New Promotion Company Tells Truth, But Editor Samson Frightens Off
Public at Critical Moment._
When I reached Salt Lake City after examining the Emma mine, I found
awaiting me a telegram from Mr. Ralston to the effect that the
president of the Bank of England, a Mr. Green, then traveling in the
Far West, would be in Cheyenne on a certain day. He asked me to meet
the gentleman, and in his name, as president of the Bank of California,
extend to the visiting banker any courtesies that his time and
inclination might permit. So I journeyed to Cheyenne in quest of Mr.
Green.
I stopped at the principal hotel and one of the first persons my eyes
rested on was about the most impressive looking man I ever saw. He must
have been six feet six in his stocking feet; he was richly caparisoned,
handsome, debonair, evidently a Briton and looked like the president
of the Bank of England and the Prince of Wales rolled into one. I took
a chance, approached the stranger and asked him if he were Mr. Green,
president of the Bank of England. The gentleman laughed and said I had
made a close guess, but had missed the mark a trifle. He introduced
himself as Mr. Morgan, an Englishman of leisure, making a sight-seeing
tour of the Far West. Later I discovered that Mr. Green had passed on
without stopping and was then well along on his journey east.
One of my objects, besides inspecting the Emma mine, was to examine a
property I had acquired in New Mexico near the headwaters of the Gila
river. I had made an investment on the strength of huge outcroppings of
mineralized ledges that gave indications of a great mining property.
But besides that there was a large valley, covered waist deep with
grass, interspersed with black walnuts into which luxuriant wild hops
twined, and traversed by a fine stream of water. In addition to the
mining claims, I had secured the water rights and taken the preliminary
steps to acquire a vast acreage of fertile land. Development work had
been going on for some time and I was anxious to see for myself just
how the property was showing up. I had several chats with Mr. Morgan
after our first odd meeting, and learning of my projected trip to New
Mexico he asked and readily received my consent to go along.
Arrived at our destination, Mr. Morgan at once became infatuated with
the country--ledges, land, water and all. Some of the prospect work
showed ore of high values. The Englishman took many samples and had
them tested by my assayer. My impression is that, like every beginner
in the mining business, he always chose the best. Finally, he made me a
business proposition. He said he had important financial connections in
England, that a great diversified property like this could be floated
for an immense sum--named $3,000,000 as a fair estimate, and offered
to form a company on an equitable basis to finance and develop its
resources.
With a cooler head, I advised Mr. Morgan that the mines were still only
in the “prospect” state; that they might turn out something great, but
more likely nothing at all. Concerning the land and water, there was no
question. Properly handled and developed their value must be great.
After some negotiations, we hit upon a bargain. Morgan was to go to
England post haste. I was to follow by more leisurely stages, a month
later, and by the time of my arrival everything was to be arranged.
I stopped a few days in New York to see the sights. While there I met
another Englishman by the name of Dalton, a member of Parliament. I
told the gentleman something of my contemplated trip to England. When
I mentioned the name of Morgan, he seemed a bit amused. He said Morgan
was all right; that he had excellent family connections, but that he
hardly figured as a financier. He said that his imagination was of an
oriental type, prone to exaggeration and very apt to make a mess of any
large transaction. “If Mr. Morgan fails,” he added, “you had better
come to me.”
When I arrived in England, I found that Mr. Dalton’s prediction had
already come true. Morgan had issued a prospectus that put the tales
of Baron Munchausen in the shade. He actually described the mines as
mountains of silver, and by his very extravagance of statement doomed
the enterprise from the start. Meanwhile, I had various meetings with
Mr. Dalton, who was a man of standing in the business world and through
him met a great firm of brokers, Coates and Hanky. Mr. Coates was the
son of a manufacturer who won fortune and immortality by his exploits
in spool cotton. These gentlemen agreed to place my proposition before
the investing public. Morgan floundered around for a short time but was
soon discouraged. I offered him an interest in the new exploitation,
with the understanding that he keep mute.
Coates and Hanky now undertook the enterprise in a business fashion.
The New Mexico Land and Silver Mining Company was formed, with a
high-class directorate. One of the directors, I recollect, was a
retired admiral of the British navy. The prospectus was flattering
enough, but would stand investigation. Among other things, it dwelt
more on the unquestioned value of the land and water than the
probabilities and possibilities of the mines. The capitalization was
six hundred thousand pounds.
The London Times was then, as now, the great newspaper authority of
England. Its financial editor, whose suggestive name was Samson, was
currently said to have more power than the Queen. Five lines favorable
from Samson’s pen in the financial columns of the Times assured the
success of an enterprise. Five lines unfavorable were equivalent to a
death warrant. It was customary with promoters to submit their plans
to Mr. Samson before submitting them to the public. The directors of
the New Mexico Land and Silver Mining Company followed this custom and
received a somewhat cryptic answer which, however, they construed to
be favorable.
The issue was brought out with the skill of trained hands. Everything
pointed to a successful outcome. But the very next day, Samson came out
with a double-barreled blast. Before the Times reached the country,
a small avalanche of subscriptions poured in. But in the city, after
a large first day’s business, the promotion fell flat. Nevertheless,
the directors stood manfully by their guns. They received space in the
Times to answer. They put up a bulldog sort of fight. The old admiral
in particular was as belligerent as when he paced a man-of-war. There
was somewhat of a reversal of public opinion in our favor. More than
half the capital stock was subscribed for and we might have pulled the
issue through, but it seemed to me that the company was overburdened
to start with, that it must labor under too many handicaps of distrust
to operate successfully, and against the judgment of the directors
I withdrew the properties and the incident was closed. All the
subscribers received their money back, without cost or abatement. No
investor lost a cent.
An incident shortly after my arrival served to illustrate in a pleasant
way my relations with W. C. Ralston at that time. I was asked to call
at the Oriental Bank, the agency for the Bank of California, and
going there the following day, was ushered into the presence of the
president, an impressive looking man of affairs. “I have here,” he
said, “a cable from W. C. Ralston, president of the Bank of California,
advising us to give Mr. A. Harpending credit for any sum he wants.
This is an unlimited order and as you probably intend to make heavy
drafts on us, I thought it advisable to inquire beforehand how much
you were likely to want.” I laughed and told him I had all the money I
needed, but if I happened to want accommodation I would certainly call
for more. The story is immaterial in itself, except as an illustration
of Ralston’s offhand way of doing business, and his confidence in me as
his friend.
Another pleasant incident was the renewing of my acquaintance with
Alfred Rubery, who again becomes a leading figure in this story. He was
the same old Rubery of the “Chapman days.” John Bright, his illustrious
uncle, was at the height of his prestige and power, and Rubery himself
was in the swim with the biggest kind of social and political fish.
And still another incident was that I came in personal contact with the
famous Baron Grant, the overlord of financial London.