HISTORY OF A DEFALCATION.

On meeting my friend again to day, I was as much amused as ever with his humor, in describing a public defaulter. And as he makes his own reflections upon it, I will without farther preface give his own words, as near as I can recollect.

“When we parted yesterday” said he, I was speaking of defaulters. The history of a public defalcation, beginning with its inception, and carried through its “rise and progress” to a final developement, is full of amusement and instruction, and if more thoroughly understood, the public mind would be disabused of its prejudice against the innocent authors of them. A public defaulter, is the most honest man in the world. If any other proof were necessary, there is abundance at hand. But the law of the land declares all men honest, until convicted of guilt, and its argus eyes would surely discover the truth, if it were otherwise. The history of the country gives no instance of a defaulter ever being tried, or committed. A public defaulter, is a true republican, an advocate and supporter of the people’s rights, who scorn to be controlled by laws, not of their own choosing. He is in favor of the distribution of surplus revenue, and he takes the best and shortest method to accomplish it. He saves congress the trouble of legislating about it, and the people from quarrelling about its appropriation. He is a public benefactor, and distributes his wealth without stint to the poor, especially if they have a vote to give; provides accommodations for public meetings, at his own expense, is a leader in their debates, a firm supporter of the government, a liberal supporter of trade, a patron of the arts and sciences, and a leader in fashion. He promotes the interests of commerce, and sustains stocks, in his untiring efforts to make up the deficiencies, which his liberality has created, and when he has done all the good he can here, he goes abroad at his own cost to acquire new treasures of knowledge wherewith to benefit his countryman.

The baseness of ingratitude, and the malice of envy, could never be more manifest, than in the persecution of such a man. Yet, how strange it is! There are some men living, who do not hesitate to heap calumnies on his head. But if we go strait onward, those prejudices will soon be done away. The frequent occurrence of default in this age proves its enlightened character, and that intelligence is fast dissipating the benighted superstitions of ignorance.

The people of Wall-street, are more enlightened in this matter, than the croaking herd of business men, and property owners are, who are always afraid of being taxed to make up deficiencies. They regard such a thing as the husbandman does the rain from heaven, watering the parched earth, causing verdure and blossoms to spring forth, in all their beauty, and timely fruit to satisfy their hungry souls. And when the wisdom of government is exercised, in the appointment to the emoluments of office, and the care of public monies, of one of their true friends, who is ready to sacrifice every thing, even his “sacred honor” to promote their success, the event is hailed with little less than a bacchanalian triumph. They know their men, and they know enough of human nature to know, that, he who has once been a stock gambler, will be again, as soon as he has the means of becoming so. And, although they may have plucked him to his last pin-feather, and then left him exposed to the cold frosts of a world’s charity, as soon as his commission is in his pocket, their respect and gratulations know no bounds.

A public default, is a thing which seldom stands by itself. There are many inwoven secrets, which do not meet the public gaze. The first stimulating cause,—the arts to prevent disclosure, and the natural sympathy between the friends of the appointor, and appointed, are rarely scanned. When truth bears rule, and honest men are in power, the checks, and balances are such, that one alone would not long maintain his secret. And as this seldom happens, the next point of wisdom is, when disclosures are made, so to arrange matters, that the crimes of all may be visited on the head of but one; and he, instead of suffering by the unrelenting knife, and having his carcass roasted on the altar of sacrifice, may, like the scape-goat of the Mosaic law, be turned into the wilderness, to bear all their sins beyond the camp.

I cannot better describe to you, the beginning and conduct of a great default, than by reading a detected letter, from a notable correspondent of General Jackson’s, who, from his great personal intimacy, could not have failed to know the truth.

Perhaps, as this letter somewhat implicates, the redoubtable major in an infidelity to the bank, and the government, should it ever come to his notice, he may insist that it is “Kounterfit;” but as it was by mistake, inclosed in a package, and directed to a friend, by the first recipient, when he was leaving in haste, I have no doubt of its genuineness. And as the major’s fortunes are known to have risen nearly in inverse proportion to the fall of the bank, and Apalachi lands, even his friends will find it difficult to disbelieve it. Never having had an opportunity to return this letter, I make it public now, that justice may be rendered to all the parties.

Washington, 1835.

To squire S——
in New-York.

Dear Sir. Your letter to the ginral, was received in Washington, as quick as the mail could fetch it. As soon as it got to the P. O. here, Amos Kindle came right over to the white house with it, and says he—“Ginral, here’s a letter from York, and I raither guess—there’s some news in it.” As soon as the ginral took the letter in his hand, he knowed by the outside, that it was from you. The ginral is plaguey cunnin, and he knowed as quick as a weazle’s scent, that Amos wanted to find out what was in it. So, says he to me, major, says he, these ere friends of Mr. Van Buren in York, pester me amazinly. And then he laid the letter down on the table, and lit his pipe, and went to talkin politics. And it warnt long afore he drove Amos away, by tellin a story about a man, who turned traitor to his patron. The ginral all the time meant Mc Lane and him, but he told the story so cutely, that it suited Kindle and Clay, just as well. As soon as Amos was gone, says the ginral to me, says he, “Major”—now we’ll read this ere letter from Swartwout. That Kindle, “says he,” wanted mightily to know what was in it, but though he’s sharp as a needle, it wont do to trust him with secrets, unless he has a hand in making on em; and then we read your letter all over, backwards, and forwards, side ways, and cross ways. And when we got through, says the ginral to me, says he, “Major, this ere letter is amazin puzlin.”

He was considerable riled; and says he, major, this looks mighty like your game of hocus pocus, that you larnt me to play with the cups and balls. What does Swartwout mean by being flunked? Why says I, that’s a Wall-street word, and means that he has been outwitted, in tryin to make up the money he was behind. And the ginral riz right up, and says he, major, I knowed Swartwout in New Orleans, in Burr’s time, and I know he’d stand a shot with every one of them fellows in Wall-street, as quick as he’d wink, if they tried to play hocus pocus with him, so dont tell me any more of your stories, major, and as you know, says he, that to-morrow morning I’m off to the rip raps, you must send Swartwout an answer, but remember, for by the Eternal,[4] and then he ketched off his specks with one hand, and he smashed the other hand down on to the table so, he broke his pipe in ten thousand shivers, and his eyes looked like coals of fire, and I looked round to see if the door was open, and just then Woodbury came in, and the ginral, was quiet as a lamb in a minit. But I warnt in sorts to talk about the treasury then, so I went to bed, and the ginral he was off afore day-light this mornin.

The ginral always said you did right in payin for printin things agin Biddle and the bank—because says he—as you say major, what is sass for goose, is sass for gander, and the only discounts, I’ve lately heard tell on by the bank, is to pay for printin things agin us. When he was in York, he was a good deal consarned to know that you had been obliged to take money, that ought to gone into the treasury. And I raly believe, if it had’nt been for that, he never would have moved the deposites, without Congress to back him. But when I tell’d him that you could make it all up, and three times over by speckilation on the money, he was as chipper as a bird, and says he, major, seein as the deposites are moved, we can play them double game.

In respect of the loss you made, by the bank stock, that I recommended you to buy of my cousin Zekiel Bigelow, in Wall-street, I did’nt tell the ginral any thing, because the deposites bein moved that proved a bad spickilation. But in respect of the Apalachi land co., I advise you to vest more largely, for the ginral says, that if I think best, he’ll establish a knavy depo there, and then it will be worth double.

J. Downing, major
2nd brigade.

It is proper to observe here, that the major was the owner of the stock above alluded to, as sold by his cousin, and that he was also a director and proprietor in the Apalachi land company. He was never publicly accused of being either a coward or janus faced, but his confession in this letter, with the unraveling it gives to the default, lays him open to the charge of both; for it seems that, while he was professedly the firm supporter of the bank, he was speculating on its stock, based on the expected removal of the deposites. And while the defaulter was consulting with his patron, how to get out of a dilemma, into which his personal devotion had led him, he was “flunked” by the major, his patron’s confidential adviser, in a “spickilation” which he had recommended to him as a means of relief, which made his situation much worse. And when we consider, that these things were done in the face of General Jackson, who was deeply interested, and his most devoted friend, we cannot wonder that the major looked round to see if the door was open, nor that he was shortly afterwards relieved from his high responsibilities.

Although the characters of public men, are public property, they should not be sported with, too rudely, and it is to be hoped, that for the honor of the major’s past reputation, he will be able to clear his skirts of this.

When the defaulter found himself deceived by the major, and his Wall-street operations all going against him, and he thereby involved in still greater pecuniary embarrassment, his soldier like spirit was roused within him, and as the general said, he would have “stood a shot with every man in the street, if that would have relieved him from his difficulties.” But he had been long enough there, to know that cold lead, although the heaviest of metals, was in fact but the lightest kind of argument, and his discretion, the better part of his valour, discovered to him, that if, among them all he should chance to meet a good shot, and himself receive a quietus, it would establish no truth but that of his real condition, and default. When this truth stared him in the face, he is said to have uttered horrid imprecations, and with alternating curses and relenting, to have bewailed his fidelity to his long loved friend and companion in arms, the general.

Not that the general ever prompted him to such acts; they were volunteered by himself, out of pure love, from old companionship, and he never thought of the wrong, much less of his inability, to pay his expenditures, until the fatal truth was pushed upon his notice. How could he think of such a thing, when money was flowing through his hands, like water through a mill-race? how could he tell that there would be a balance against him? he had never kept an account in his life, nor even examined one. He was too liberal to be exact. When his shoemaker presented his bill, he looked at the foot; and if money was in his pocket he paid it, and if not, he kicked the impudent fellow out of the house, if he presumed to urge his suit, by any word of expostulation, or plea of necessity. It was unsoldier-like, and ungentlemanly to be exact in any thing, but the point of honor, viz.—if a man should say his coat was brown, when he knew it was black, call him out, and settle the truth by an exchange of shots.

And here I cannot forbear the remark, that, when government wants soldiers, they should look for fighting men. When they want judges and attornies, they should seek for those learned in the law, and when they want some one to take charge of financial affairs, they should seek those whose habits of exactness, promptitude, and experience in finance, give them some fitness for the duty.

But the die was now cast with the defaulter, and no repentance could make atonement to offended justice. Thus far, his attempts to relieve himself from the first deficiency, had not only been unavailing, but had led him deeper into difficulty. Something more must be done, or the fatal hour of disclosure must come. The general would soon lose all patience, as well as all confidence. Should he implicate him, and clear his own skirts? No—that thought was too repugnant to his honorable feelings, it would be unjust, for if the general knew his default, he had no hand in creating it, and if, he allowed him time to escape its consequences by retrieving it, it was the kindliness resulting from old associations. It was his own want of prudence in the first place, and of skill in the second, that placed him where he was. But something more must be done. And what should he do? The finale of his Apalachi land stock, was not yet realised; he thought well of it—he thought well of all land speculations. Yes, the landed interest, must, in this country, as in every other, in time, become the wealthiest—cities were springing up every day—fortunes were made in a moment—there could be no loss—the land would not run away—the Wall-street sharpers could not “flunk” him there.

Yes, he’d try a land speculation, east and west—honest man!—he never thought how much easier it was for one of these landlopers, to make a city in the woods on paper, than to be at the trouble of cutting the timber all down, and building it up again into houses, stores, churches, and academies. And that even a flowing river with beautiful falls, and “mill privileges,” with fertile valleys skirting its chrystal waters, could be made, where nature had never taken that trouble, in a thousandth part of the time that De Witt Clinton could make a sluggish canal. In short he wanted the experience, which has proved these Yankee land speculators to be the genuine breed of land-sharks, which sailors so much detest for their cunning, and voracious propensities, and who, to use one of their own descriptions of themselves—“are as much sharper, than a Wall-street sharper, as a Wall-street sharper, is sharper than a needle.” But the decision once made by the defaulter, his practice was to go ahead, and he usually left out the preliminary of the renowned Crocket, as implying a disagreeable necessity. If he was not wrong, he must be right, was the result of his logical reasoning; and certainly, no more self-evident conclusion was ever drawn from premises.

With the accuracy of judgment, therefore, which might be expected in such a case, he bought lands, to a very large extent, in various sections of the country, along with the most respectable companies, and from the handsomest drawn maps he could find.

An anecdote occurred about this time, which I believe has once got into the newspapers, but it is too good not to be repeated here, especially, as it will show to future generations, the value of a clean and handsomely drawn map—in other words, that it is better to do things well, than to do them clumsily.

The defaulter had in his possession, a title to an old soldier’s patent, the papers of which had been carried in a dirty pocket book, and handled with dirty hands, until the location of the patent could hardly be distinguished on the map. It had been “thrown in to him,” to bind a bargain with some speculators, much the same as a huckster woman puts on to the measure too peaches more, when she sees her customer about to depart. He esteemed it of very little value, and thought no more of it, until one day a stalwart Yankee, with slouched hat, came into his office, and, says he, “mister hain’t you got a piece of land there in Miss-soori, up on the Black river. Yes, was the reply, after a moment’s reflection.”

“Well mister, what will you take now, for that are land?”

The defaulter, who had begun to understand, a little of the mode of bargaining practiced by these men, answered “a thousand dollars,” though he would have accepted five hundred.

“Did you say a thousand dollars, mister?”

“Yes.”

“That’s raither high. Jest let me see them are papers, mister.”

The papers were handed to him, and, after being critically examined, and found to be all right, the Yankee, still holding on to the papers, from fear of not being able to bind his bargain otherwise, asked—

“Won’t you take no less, Mister?”

“No.”

“Well, I’ll take it, just make me the title.”

The title was made out, and the money paid, when the defaulter, surprised at the bargain, asked, “what did you buy that land at such a price for? I would have sold it to you for half the money.”

“Why,” said the Yankee, “there’s a darned good lead mine on it.”

“There is, eh!—how much is it worth?”

“Well, I don’t know, but I’ve dug out ten thousand dollar’s worth a’ready, and I expect to get a great deal more.”

“The d——l you do?”

“Yes—good bye, Squire.”

Report says that this was the only valuable piece of land the defaulter ever bought, and that this was all the money he ever got back again, from all his investments. I have even heard it whispered that this same Yankee was one of the speculators concerned in making the large sale to him, in the first place, and that the “throwing it in,” was but the cast of a die, to bind a profitable bargain, trusting to their ingenuity to get it back again; and, having cheated him at any rate, whether they should get it again, or not.

A mind as cool, even, as the defaulter’s, could hardly retain its just balance, under such accumulations of misfortune, and accordingly, we find him sometimes afflicted with gloomy forebodings of the future, sometimes brooding over the disappointments of the past; and always taking that course that will lead him deeper into difficulty.

Whether it is right or prudent for a man involved in embarrassment to attempt to relieve himself by a single coup de main, may be a very fruitful theme for those who like to calculate the doctrine of chances; but, in my opinion, a chance, which may be operated upon in so many ways, as may the rise or fall of property, or the success of speculation of any kind—and, instead of being governed by any such natural laws as may be supposed to belong to chance, wherein the aggregate results must be always the same, although we do not know before hand how they will come up particularly, is overruled and affected, more or less, by the changing opinions and volition of almost every one in the community—deserves not the name, even of chance, and, in my opinion, involves the certainty and necessity of failure. And, although such a thing hath been as success in this way, yet all my experience goes to show me, that the “chance,” so called, is not as one in the hundred. The fact that a man is embarrassed signifies, also, that he is unable to control his affairs, and, if he cannot control them in the state they are, their expansion, out of his legitimate course, will not help him much.

I believe every successful man will tell me, that the secret of his success has been, the preserving this ability to himself; and my own experience has shown me, that whenever the case is otherwise, one not only has the caprices of chance against him, but the caprices, cupidity, and contrary interests of his fellow men, to contend with, and the sooner he comes to a stand, the better for himself, and his friends. These reflections are not suggested by a default, when viewed in any other light, than as a pecuniary embarrassment; and, in this particular, they are alike applicable to all embarrassed men.

When men, for insufficient reasons, have raised their hopes too high, their disappointment commonly brings with it a corresponding depression; and so with the defaulter—he now despaired. But let me not be understood that despair took away his appetite; far otherwise—there was no sickliness in his despair. He merely gave up all hope of being able to save himself from that very small modicum of attainture to his honor, which is comprehended in the name of a defaulter; and, as despair, in all its shapes and degrees, is always rash and unreasonable, he is said to have given himself up to an unaccountable fondness for those fashionable, yet too animating amusements, where gentlemen are supposed to stake largely. Here he met many pleasant companions, but among them, one particularly, a public functionary, who, although he had met him every day for years, in his attention to the duties of his office, he never before esteemed his acquaintance to be a jewel of such Price and value as he now found it to be. An intimacy of course grew up, which led to the denouement that must form the conclusion to this chapter.

This friend of great Price had every requisite of character for a gentleman. He would eat heavy, drink deep, and play high, and not the least of his accomplishments was, that he had no respect, whatever, for the character of Joseph, as claimed by the Hebrews. To add to his value, as a friend, these excellent qualities were made more seductive, by an agreeable exterior, and manner. He was also a man of business withal, and never gave more than an occasional hour of relaxation, to those refined pleasures.

As they chatted, and talked, and drank together, the defaulter sometimes looked at him with unmingled pleasure, sometimes with feelings akin to envy. What would he not give to possess the quiet and unruffled mind and temper of his friend? to be as free from any danger of exposure—from the haunting, disturbing influence of self accusation. Alas! the first step from the path of duty inevitably leads to ruin, unless immediately retraced.

Sometimes the thought would arise in his mind, “Is it possible that, like myself, he comes here as a relief to his burthened spirit?—to seek a solace for the cares of an anxious mind!” He banished the thought at once; but who is there that has not often found these random suggestions of thought were in fact the premonitions of truth?—and to this fact we are about to come.

One night, when the stakes had run high, and were swept by their opponents, and the two friends had set themselves down to the solace of their wine; and its inspiring qualities had heightened into extacy the love that glowed in the bosom of each, with that mellow frankness which wine always inspires, and the longing which friendship always feels, to make its loved object the co partner of its cares, the defaulter whispered in the softest accents, “Bill, I am ruined—the money I lost belongs to the Treasury.”

“So did mine!” was the full and sonorous response.

Had the thunder-bolt, which Abdiel let fall on the crest of Satan, struck the defaulter, he could scarcely have received a greater shock, and almost like the arch-fiend—

Ten paces huge he back recoiled;
The tenth on bended knee.

But, recovered in some degree from the shock, the friends were both astonished at their own imprudence, and, shaking hands, they separated for the night; the one to go home and ponder his lot, the other to regret his folly.

But the disclosure had been too mutual to rest here—something must be done for their protection. It could only be done by concert, for each had the power to ruin the other, any moment; and, as a result of this necessity, it was the part of wisdom to extend their mutual confidence. If both could not be saved, one of them might. The government was passing into new hands, new interests would arise out of it, new applications would be made for office—perhaps they would both lose theirs. If they did not render their accounts promptly, they would be suspected, and lose their offices of course. They must, therefore, work speedily.

But the day of retribution always comes sooner than we expect. The government had changed hands—new interests had arisen—new applications for office had been made. They had become more than suspected, before they could possibly arrange, out of the chaos of their affairs, and the wilderness of their crimes, any such jumbled up accounts of interchanged receipts, costs, &c. &c., as could save even one of them. And, as a consequence upon the unfaithfulness of their friendship, they were both compelled to fly in disguise and disgrace, from the presence of their countrymen, and from the joys of home.

And now, if I have not given a true account of a default which cost the government more than a million of dollars, solely in consequence of a few thousands wrongfully spent in the first place, for electioneering purposes—if this account does not prove the total unfitness of gambling politicians to hold offices of trust—and if these circumstances will not apply in more quarters than one, public and private—it is because my powers of description are feeble, and not because the truth is wanting to establish these facts.