[D5] "Asmodeus Among the Banks, or Philadelphia in an Uproar," Spirit of the Times, March 19, 1842
Asmodeus Among the Banks, or Philadelphia in an Uproar—Two More Banks Broken.
The race on the banks was renewed yesterday with creditable energy and vigor. Any one who has seen a scrub fox chase within a few miles of Philadelphia, cannot fail to perceive the beautiful similarity between a scrub fox chase and a Philadelphia run on the Banks. Preparatory to the chase the temper of the dogs is excited by the smell of a half-decomposed mackerel, (called the "drag", which is dragged over the country for a mile or so, and is followed by the whole pack of hounds in full cry. The first day of the resumption of specie payments was the "drag" that whetted the appetite of the specie-starved Philadelphians for the "real-no-mistake" coin. After the "drag," the regular fox is brought out, and the chase commences in earnest. On Tuesday last the specie was reported to be "about," and the specie chase began with a "perfect looseness."
The banks broke cover gloriously in the morning, but towards the fated 3 P.M. many of the creatures showed signs of distress. On Wednesday morning, there was a general whoop, and half the town were "in at the death" of the Penn Township. Again the race was renewed with terrific vigor and serious ferocity. On Thursday the Manufacturers and Mechanics Bank showed signs of failing but did not give in. The Mechanics Bank made a terrible effort to escape, but failed. It died the death. Yesterday morning the hunt was at its highest point of interest.
MOYAMENSING BANK.
The crowd who gathered around this institution at 10 A. M., with the expectation of seeing Mr. Solms as active as usual, in paying the notes of the bank, were somewhat disappointed by the perusal of a document, which was pasted on the doors of the banking house. The document was headed "To the Public," and detailed the usual excuse for "closing the bank" for "the present." It gave also one of the ordinary "statements," by which broken banks always prove that they can pay their debts and have millions left for cigar-money.
"O! be jabers, but that's rich!" exclaimed a true born son of old Erin, as he read this singular document. "Isn't it very singular, to be sure, that them two columns so nicely added up, should be exactly similar and aqual in amount! Och, smithereens and chicken fixins! but it's rich! I wish I understood 'rithmetic, I do!"
"Here," cried a mechanic, showing something in his hands, "here is all that's left of the money I got from my employer last night. He gave me three dollars in Moyamensing notes, and I had to go and trade 'em off for two in specie."
"Arrah, but was that same employer a bank director, my darlint?"
"No, but I heerd he used to git fat discounts in this neighborhood of Second and Chestnut. Howsomever, they made out to diddle me out of a dollar d—n 'em."
"How very extraordinary!" observed a respectable person in a grey coat and white cravat, looking very much like a Methodist preacher, "how very extraordinary! There are $2,989 29 set down in that statement for 'expenses.' I wonder what 'expenses' means in the Banking Dictionary?"
"I don't know what it manes," shouted the Irishman, "and the Lord knows! I don't keer and be d—n'd to 'em; but if I had my will, I'd tumble the whole lot of banks about the ears of the rascally swindlers. Faix! I'd make 'em think the day of judgement was comin'. Ugh! the blackguards!"
"What a blessing it is," observed the Methodist preacher-like individual, "that our citizens are actuated by the true christian spirit. See, how patiently they submit to injuries; and the injuries and results are somewhat aggravated too. I wonder," he continued, looking upward as if arguing the point with himself, "I wonder what they would do if saddles were placed on their backs, and bridles in their mouths, while the whip was laid across their shoulders? I wonder whether they wouldn't kiss the hand that inflicted the blow? That's true christian forbearance. It is indeed."
We then turned our steps upwards towards the
BANK OF THE NORTHERN LIBERTIES.
There was a crowd at hand, and inside of the bank gold and silver piled up picturesquely on the counter met our eyes. The "real grit" was being paid out pretty rapidly, and altogether appearances in the bank were decidedly favorable. The genuine business seemed to be going on. We stepped out again. A knot of individuals was standing near the steps.
"Look here," said a slimly formed individual to the others, "Look here—see what I hold in my fist; there's six hundred dollars in Northern Liberties notes; now I intend to get every cent of that in specie—If I don't damme."
"Do you want the specie?" inquired a voice in the crowd.
"Devil the bit of it. But have it I will, so here goes—hurrah!"
He rushed up the steps, disappeared, and in an instant his head was again seen bobbing out of the door.
"Who stole the pocket book!" he shouted—very red in the face.
"Who did it? Who's got my six hundred dollars? Hey. Hello! there! Where's the poleese?"
"That serves him right," said an apple woman standing near—"Folks what is greedy, is always sure not to get what they want, and to lose what they've got already. That's a fret!"—she added in an undertone to herself, as we walked away.
Strolling along Vine to Third street, we soon reached the
MANUFACTURERS' AND MECHANICS' BANK.
The sound of a soft female voice struck our ear.—We turned and beheld a respectable woman, dressed in deep black, with the furrows of premature care and age visible in her cheek and brow. "Sir, can you tell me what to do with these notes," she exclaimed addressing an elderly gentleman with a brown coat, light vest, and rather benevolent countenance. "Can you tell me what to do with these notes."
"On what bank are they? Let me see 'em. Ah! Exchange Bank—West Branch Bank—Mechanics' Bank." They're all good, madam; all good; all good."
"O, I'm so glad!" exclaimed the lady in black, "Thankee, sir, thankee;" and a tear trembled in her eye. "I'm so glad; I had to pay my rent, to-day—Mr. —, my landlord is a Bank Director, and wont take anything but good notes."
"That is to say, ma'am," resumed the elderly gentleman, "They will be good in the course of a year or so. Umph! The faith of the state is pledged for their redemption—it is indeed, ma'am."
The poor woman's countenance fell.
"Where did you get the notes?"
"Why I've been saving up all my money to pay my quarter's rent. I'm a poor widow, depending upon the labor of my hands for the bread that shall feed me and my children. A few weeks since I changed all my money for a $20 note of the Manufacturers' and Mechanics' Bank. I heard a good deal about the banks being bad, but I thought this bank couldn't but be good, for Mr. Hunt, the President, belongs to our church, and sings and prays with us every Sunday, and"—
We took our departure. God help the poor widow when she gets into the hands of the bank directors!
The Manufacturers' and Mechanics' Bank was broken.
So endeth the second day.