The father of Edward Bok passed away when Edward was eighteen years of
age, and it was found that the amount of the small insurance left behind
would barely cover the funeral expenses. Hence the two boys faced the
problem of supporting the mother on their meagre income. They determined
to have but one goal: to put their mother back to that life of comfort
to which she had been brought up and was formerly accustomed. But that
was not possible on their income. It was evident that other employment
must be taken on during the evenings.
The city editor of the Brooklyn Eagle had given Edward the assignment of
covering the news of the theatres; he was to ascertain "coming
attractions" and any other dramatic items of news interest. One Monday
evening, when a multiplicity of events crowded the reportorial corps,
Edward was delegated to "cover" the Grand Opera House, where Rose
Coghlan was to appear in a play that had already been seen in Brooklyn,
and called, therefore, for no special dramatic criticism. Yet The Eagle
wanted to cover it. It so happened that Edward had made another
appointment for that evening which he considered more important, and yet
not wishing to disappoint his editor he accepted the assignment. He had
seen Miss Coghlan in the play; so he kept his other engagement, and
without approaching the theatre he wrote a notice to the effect that
Miss Coghlan acted her part, if anything, with greater power than on her
previous Brooklyn visit, and so forth, and handed it in to his city
editor the next morning on his way to business.
Unfortunately, however, Miss Coghlan had been taken ill just before the
raising of the curtain, and, there being no understudy, no performance
had been given and the audience dismissed. All this was duly commented
upon by the New York morning newspapers. Edward read this bit of news on
the ferry-boat, but his notice was in the hands of the city editor.
On reaching home that evening he found a summons from The Eagle, and the
next morning he received a rebuke, and was informed that his chances
with the paper were over. The ready acknowledgment and evident regret of
the crestfallen boy, however, appealed to the editor, and before the end
of the week he called the boy to him and promised him another chance,
provided the lesson had sunk in. It had, and it left a lasting
impression. It was always a cause of profound gratitude with Edward Bok
that his first attempt at "faking" occurred so early in his journalistic
career that he could take the experience to heart and profit by it.
One evening when Edward was attending a theatrical performance, he
noticed the restlessness of the women in the audience between the acts.
In those days it was, even more than at present, the custom for the men
to go out between the acts, leaving the women alone. Edward looked at
the programme in his hands. It was a large eleven-by-nine sheet, four
pages, badly printed, with nothing in it save the cast, a few
advertisements, and an announcement of some coming attraction. The boy
mechanically folded the programme, turned it long side up and wondered
whether a programme of this smaller size, easier to handle, with an
attractive cover and some reading-matter, would not be profitable.
When he reached home he made up an eight-page "dummy," pasted an
attractive picture on the cover, indicated the material to go inside,
and the next morning showed it to the manager of the theatre. The
programme as issued was an item of considerable expense to the
management; Edward offered to supply his new programme without cost,
provided he was given the exclusive right, and the manager at once
accepted the offer. Edward then sought a friend, Frederic L. Colver, who
had a larger experience in publishing and advertising, with whom he
formed a partnership. Deciding that immediately upon the issuance of
their first programme the idea was likely to be taken up by the other
theatres, Edward proceeded to secure the exclusive rights to them all.
The two young publishers solicited their advertisements on the way to
and from business mornings and evenings, and shortly the first
smaller-sized theatre programme, now in use in all theatres, appeared.
The venture was successful from the start, returning a comfortable
profit each week. Such advertisements as they could not secure for cash
they accepted in trade; and this latter arrangement assisted materially
in maintaining the households of the two publishers.
Edward's partner now introduced him into a debating society called The
Philomathean Society, made up of young men connected with Plymouth
Church, of which Henry Ward Beecher was pastor. The debates took the
form of a miniature congress, each member representing a State, and it
is a curious coincidence that Edward drew, by lot, the representation of
the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania. The members took these debates very
seriously; no subject was too large for them to discuss. Edward became
intensely interested in the society's doings, and it was not long before
he was elected president.
The society derived its revenue from the dues of its members and from an
annual concert given under its auspices in Plymouth Church. When the
time for the concert under Edward's presidency came around, he decided
that the occasion should be unique so as to insure a crowded house. He
induced Mr. Beecher to preside; he got General Grant's promise to come
and speak; he secured the gratuitous services of Emma C. Thursby, Annie
Louise Cary, Clara Louise Kellogg, and Evelyn Lyon Hegeman, all of the
first rank of concert-singers of that day, with the result that the
church could not accommodate the crowd which naturally was attracted by
such a programme.
It now entered into the minds of the two young theatre-programme
publishers to extend their publishing interests by issuing an "organ"
for their society, and the first issue of The Philomathean Review duly
appeared with Mr. Colver as its publisher and Edward Bok as editor.
Edward had now an opportunity to try his wings in an editorial capacity.
The periodical was, of course, essentially an organ of the society; but
gradually it took on a more general character, so that its circulation
might extend over a larger portion of Brooklyn. With this extension came
a further broadening of its contents, which now began to take on a
literary character, and it was not long before its two projectors
realized that the periodical had outgrown its name. It was decided--late
in 1884--to change the name to The Brooklyn Magazine.
There was a periodical called The Plymouth Pulpit, which presented
verbatim reports of the sermons of Mr. Beecher, and Edward got the idea
of absorbing the Pulpit in the Magazine. But that required more capital
than he and his partner could command. They consulted Mr. Beecher, who,
attracted by the enterprise of the two boys, sent them with letters of
introduction to a few of his most influential parishioners, with the
result that the pair soon had a sufficient financial backing by some of
the leading men of Brooklyn, like A. A. Low, H. B. Claflin, Rufus T.
Bush, Henry W. Slocum, Seth Low, Rossiter W. Raymond, Horatio C. King,
and others.
The young publishers could now go on. Understanding that Mr. Beecher's
sermons might give a partial and denominational tone to the magazine,
Edward arranged to publish also in its pages verbatim reports of the
sermons of the Reverend T. De Witt Talmage, whose reputation was then at
its zenith. The young editor now realized that he had a rather heavy
cargo of sermons to carry each month; accordingly, in order that his
magazine might not appear to be exclusively religious, he determined
that its literary contents should be of a high order and equal in
interest to the sermons. But this called for additional capital, and the
capital furnished was not for that purpose.
It is here that Edward's autographic acquaintances stood him in good
stead. He went in turn to each noted person he had met, explained his
plight and stated his ambitions, with the result that very soon the
magazine and the public were surprised at the distinction of the
contributors to The Brooklyn Magazine. Each number contained a
noteworthy list of them, and when an article by the President of the
United States, then Rutherford B. Hayes, opened one of the numbers, the
public was astonished, since up to that time the unwritten rule that a
President's writings were confined to official pronouncements had
scarcely been broken. William Dean Howells, General Grant, General
Sherman, Phillips Brooks, General Sheridan, Canon Farrar, Cardinal
Gibbons, Marion Harland, Margaret Sangster--the most prominent men and
women of the day, some of whom had never written for magazines--began to
appear in the young editor's contents. Editors wondered how the
publishers could afford it, whereas, in fact, not a single name
represented an honorarium. Each contributor had come gratuitously to the
aid of the editor.
At first, the circulation of the magazine permitted the boys to wrap the
copies themselves; and then they, with two other boys, would carry as
huge bundles as they could lift, put them late at night on the front
platform of the street-cars, and take them to the postoffice. Thus the
boys absolutely knew the growth of their circulation by the weight of
their bundles and the number of their front-platform trips each month.
Soon a baker's hand-cart was leased for an evening, and that was added
to the capacity of the front platforms. Then one eventful month it was
seen that a horse-truck would have to be employed. Within three weeks, a
double horse-truck was necessary, and three trips had to be made.
By this time Edward Bok had become so intensely interested in the
editorial problem, and his partner in the periodical publishing part,
that they decided to sell out their theatre-programme interests and
devote themselves to the magazine and its rapidly increasing
circulation. All of Edward's editorial work had naturally to be done
outside of his business hours, in other words, in the evenings and on
Sundays; and the young editor found himself fully occupied. He now
revived the old idea of selecting a subject and having ten or twenty
writers express their views on it. It was the old symposium idea, but it
had not been presented in American journalism for a number of years. He
conceived the topic "Should America Have a Westminster Abbey?" and
induced some twenty of the foremost men and women of the day to discuss
it. When the discussion was presented in the magazine, the form being
new and the theme novel, Edward was careful to send advance sheets to
the newspapers, which treated it at length in reviews and editorials,
with marked effect upon the circulation of the magazine.
All this time, while Edward Bok was an editor in his evenings he was,
during the day, a stenographer and clerk of the Western Union Telegraph
Company. The two occupations were hardly compatible, but each meant a
source of revenue to the boy, and he felt he must hold on to both.
After his father passed away, the position of the boy's desk--next to
the empty desk of his father--was a cause of constant depression to him.
This was understood by the attorney for the company, Mr. Clarence Cary,
who sought the head of Edward's department, with the result that Edward
was transferred to Mr. Cary's department as the attorney's private
stenographer.
Edward had been much attracted to Mr. Cary, and the attorney believed in
the boy, and decided to show his interest by pushing him along. He had
heard of the dual role which Edward was playing; he bought a copy of the
magazine, and was interested. Edward now worked with new zest for his
employer and friend; while in every free moment he read law, feeling
that, as almost all his forbears had been lawyers, he might perhaps be
destined for the bar. This acquaintance with the fundamental basis of
law, cursory as it was, became like a gospel to Edward Bok. In later
years, he was taught its value by repeated experience in his contact
with corporate laws, contracts, property leases, and other matters; and
he determined that, whatever the direction of activity taken by his
sons, each should spend at least a year in the study of law.
The control of the Western Union Telegraph Company had now passed into
the hands of Jay Gould and his companions, and in the many legal matters
arising therefrom, Edward saw much, in his office, of "the little wizard
of Wall Street." One day, the financier had to dictate a contract, and,
coming into Mr. Cary's office, decided to dictate it then and there. An
hour afterward Edward delivered the copy of the contract to Mr. Gould,
and the financier was so struck by its accuracy and by the legibility of
the handwriting that afterward he almost daily "happened in" to dictate
to Mr. Cary's stenographer. Mr. Gould's private stenographer was in his
own office in lower Broadway; but on his way down-town in the morning
Mr. Gould invariably stopped at the Western Union Building, at 195
Broadway, and the habit resulted in the installation of a private office
there. He borrowed Edward to do his stenography. The boy found himself
taking not only letters from Mr. Gould's dictation, but, what interested
him particularly, the financier's orders to buy and sell stock.
Edward watched the effects on the stock-market of these little notes
which he wrote out and then shot through a pneumatic tube to Mr. Gould's
brokers. Naturally, the results enthralled the boy, and he told Mr. Cary
about his discoveries. This, in turn, interested Mr. Cary; Mr. Gould's
dictations were frequently given in Mr. Cary's own office, where, as his
desk was not ten feet from that of his stenographer, the attorney heard
them, and began to buy and sell according to the magnate's decisions.
Edward had now become tremendously interested in the stock game which he
saw constantly played by the great financier; and having a little money
saved up, he concluded that he would follow in the wake of Mr. Gould's
orders. One day, he naively mentioned his desire to Mr. Gould, when the
financier seemed in a particularly favorable frame of mind; but Edward
did not succeed in drawing out the advice he hoped for. "At least,"
reasoned Edward, "he knew of my intention; and if he considered it a
violation of confidence he would have said as much."
Construing the financier's silence to mean at least not a prohibition,
Edward went to his Sunday-school teacher, who was a member of a Wall
Street brokerage firm, laid the facts before him, and asked him if he
would buy for him some Western Union stock. Edward explained, however,
that somehow he did not like the gambling idea of buying "on margin,"
and preferred to purchase the stock outright. He was shown that this
would mean smaller profits; but the boy had in mind the loss of his
father's fortune, brought about largely by "stock margins," and he did
not intend to follow that example. So, prudently, under the brokerage of
his Sunday-school teacher, and guided by the tips of no less a man than
the controlling factor of stock-market finance, Edward Bok took his
first plunge in Wall Street!
Of course the boy's buying and selling tallied precisely with the rise
and fall of Western Union stock. It could scarcely have been otherwise.
Jay Gould had the cards all in his hands; and as he bought and sold, so
Edward bought and sold. The trouble was, the combination did not end
there, as Edward might have foreseen had he been older and thus wiser.
For as Edward bought and sold, so did his Sunday-school teacher, and all
his customers who had seen the wonderful acumen of their broker in
choosing exactly the right time to buy and sell Western Union. But
Edward did not know this.
One day a rumor became current on the Street that an agreement had been
reached by the Western Union Company and its bitter rival, the American
Union Telegraph Company, whereby the former was to absorb the latter.
Naturally, the report affected Western Union stock. But Mr. Gould denied
it in toto; said the report was not true, no such consolidation was in
view or had even been considered. Down tumbled the stock, of course.
But it so happened that Edward knew the rumor was true, because Mr.
Gould, some time before, had personally given him the contract of
consolidation to copy. The next day a rumor to the effect that the
American Union was to absorb the Western Union appeared on the first
page of every New York newspaper. Edward knew exactly whence this rumor
emanated. He had heard it talked over. Again, Western Union stock
dropped several points. Then he noticed that Mr. Gould became a heavy
buyer. So became Edward--as heavy as he could. Jay Gould pooh-poohed the
latest rumor. The boy awaited developments.
On Sunday afternoon, Edward's Sunday-school teacher asked the boy to
walk home with him, and on reaching the house took him into the study
and asked him whether he felt justified in putting all his savings in
Western Union just at that time when the price was tumbling so fast and
the market was so unsteady. Edward assured his teacher that he was
right, although he explained that he could not disclose the basis of his
assurance.
Edward thought his teacher looked worried, and after a little there came
the revelation that he, seeing that Edward was buying to his limit, had
likewise done so. But the broker had bought on margin, and had his
margin wiped out by the decline in the stock caused by the rumors. He
explained to Edward that he could recoup his losses, heavy though they
were--in fact, he explained that nearly everything he possessed was
involved--if Edward's basis was sure and the stock would recover.
Edward keenly felt the responsibility placed upon him. He could never
clearly diagnose his feelings when he saw his teacher in this new light.
The broker's "customers" had been hinted at, and the boy of eighteen
wondered how far his responsibility went, and how many persons were
involved. But the deal came out all right, for when, three days
afterward, the contract was made public, Western Union, of course,
skyrocketed, Jay Gould sold out, Edward sold out, the teacher-broker
sold out, and all the customers sold out!
How long a string it was Edward never discovered, but he determined
there and then to end his Wall Street experience; his original amount
had multiplied; he was content to let well enough alone, and from that
day to this Edward Bok has kept out of Wall Street. He had seen enough
of its manipulations; and, although on "the inside," he decided that the
combination of his teacher and his customers was a responsibility too
great for him to carry.
Furthermore, Edward decided to leave the Western Union. The longer he
remained, the less he liked its atmosphere. And the closer his contact
with Jay Gould the more doubtful he became of the wisdom of such an
association and perhaps its unconscious influence upon his own life in
its formative period.
In fact, it was an experience with Mr. Gould that definitely fixed
Edward's determination. The financier decided one Saturday to leave on a
railroad inspection tour on the following Monday. It was necessary that
a special meeting of one of his railroad interests should be held before
his departure, and he fixed the meeting for Sunday at eleven-thirty at
his residence on Fifth Avenue. He asked Edward to be there to take the
notes of the meeting.
The meeting was protracted, and at one o'clock Mr. Gould suggested an
adjournment for luncheon, the meeting to reconvene at two. Turning to
Edward, the financier said: "You may go out to luncheon and return in an
hour." So, on Sunday afternoon, with the Windsor Hotel on the opposite
corner as the only visible place to get something to eat, but where he
could not afford to go, Edward, with just fifteen cents in his pocket,
was turned out to find a luncheon place.
He bought three apples for five cents--all that he could afford to
spend, and even this meant that he must walk home from the ferry to his
house in Brooklyn--and these he ate as he walked up and down Fifth
Avenue until his hour was over. When the meeting ended at three o'clock,
Mr. Gould said that, as he was leaving for the West early next morning,
he would like Edward to write out his notes, and have them at his house
by eight o'clock. There were over forty note-book pages of minutes. The
remainder of Edward's Sunday afternoon and evening was spent in
transcribing the notes. By rising at half past five the next morning he
reached Mr. Gould's house at a quarter to eight, handed him the minutes,
and was dismissed without so much as a word of thanks or a nod of
approval from the financier.
Edward felt that this exceeded the limit of fair treatment by employer
of employee. He spoke of it to Mr. Cary, and asked whether he would
object if he tried to get away from such influence and secure another
position. His employer asked the boy in which direction he would like to
go, and Edward unhesitatingly suggested the publishing business. He
talked it over from every angle with his employer, and Mr. Cary not only
agreed with him that his decision was wise, but promised to find him a
position such as he had in mind.
It was not long before Mr. Cary made good his word, and told Edward that
his friend Henry Holt, the publisher, would like to give him a trial.
The day before he was to leave the Western Union Telegraph Company the
fact of his resignation became known to Mr. Gould. The financier told
the boy there was no reason for his leaving, and that he would
personally see to it that a substantial increase was made in his salary.
Edward explained that the salary, while of importance to him, did not
influence him so much as securing a position in a business in which he
felt he would be happier.
"And what business is that?" asked the financier.
"The publishing of books," replied the boy.
"You are making a great mistake," answered the little man, fixing his
keen gray eyes on the boy. "Books are a luxury. The public spends its
largest money on necessities: on what it can't do without. It must
telegraph; it need not read. It can read in libraries. A promising boy
such as you are, with his life before him, should choose the right sort
of business, not the wrong one."
But, as facts proved, the "little wizard of Wall Street" was wrong in
his prediction; Edward Bok was not choosing the wrong business.
Years afterward when Edward was cruising up the Hudson with a yachting
party one Saturday afternoon, the sight of Jay Gould's mansion, upon
approaching Irvington, awakened the desire of the women on board to see
his wonderful orchid collection. Edward explained his previous
association with the financier and offered to recall himself to him, if
the party wished to take the chance of recognition. A note was written
to Mr. Gould, and sent ashore, and the answer came back that they were
welcome to visit the orchid houses. Jay Gould, in person, received the
party, and, placing it under the personal conduct of his gardener,
turned to Edward and, indicating a bench, said: "Come and sit down here
with me."
"Well," said the financier, who was in his domestic mood, quite
different from his Wall Street aspect, "I see in the papers that you
seem to be making your way in the publishing business."
Edward expressed surprise that the Wall Street magnate had followed his
work.
"I have because I always felt you had it in you to make a successful
man. But not in that business," he added quickly. "You were born for the
Street. You would have made a great success there, and that is what I
had in mind for you. In the publishing business you will go just so far;
in the Street you could have gone as far as you liked. There is room
there; there is none in the publishing business. It's not too late now,
for that matter," continued the "little wizard," fastening his steel
eyes on the lad beside him!
And Edward Bok has often speculated whither Jay Gould might have led
him. To many a young man, a suggestion from such a source would have
seemed the one to heed and follow. But Edward Bok's instinct never
failed him. He felt that his path lay far apart from that of Jay
Gould--and the farther the better!
In 1882 Edward, with a feeling of distinct relief, left the employ of
the Western Union Telegraph Company and associated himself with the
publishing business in which he had correctly divined that his future
lay.
His chief regret on leaving his position was in severing the close
relations, almost as of father and son, between Mr. Cary and himself.
When Edward was left alone, with the passing away of his father,
Clarence Cary had put his sheltering arm around the lonely boy, and with
the tremendous encouragement of the phrase that the boy never forgot, "I
think you have it in you, Edward, to make a successful man," he took him
under his wing. It was a turning-point in Edward Bok's life, as he felt
at the time and as he saw more clearly afterward.
He remained in touch with his friend, however, keeping him advised of
his progress in everything he did, not only at that time, but all
through his later years. And it was given to Edward to feel the deep
satisfaction of having Mr. Cary say, before he passed away, that the boy
had more than justified the confidence reposed in him. Mr. Cary lived to
see him well on his way, until, indeed, Edward had had the proud
happiness of introducing to his benefactor the son who bore his name,
Cary William Bok.