Bidwell's Travels, from Wall Street to London Prison: Fifteen Years in SolitudeBidwell, Austin
General
Bidwell's Travels, from Wall Street to London Prison: Fifteen Years in Solitude
Bidwell, Austin
Bank fraud -- England; Bank of England; Bidwell, Austin; Criminals -- Biography
My friend Mr. Ambler's health was bad, and frequent attacks of illness
caused him to be away from the office for weeks at a time, and that
meant much loss to me. When I had been there about a year, he resigned
his position and went as manager for a factory in New Haven. But before
leaving he interested himself so far in my welfare as to secure me a
position with a firm of brokers in New street, at a salary of $10 a
week. My employers were good fellows, lovers of pleasure and men of the
world, not scrupling to talk freely with me of their various adventures
out of business hours. I had lost much of my awkwardness and gauche
manners, and under the $10 a week arrangement began to dress fairly
well. My employers did a brokerage business and speculated as well on
their own account. My duties were decidedly light and pleasant, and
brought me into contact with some of the sharpest as well as the most
famous men in the street. Among them was a brilliant young man of my own
age, who took a great fancy to me, and frequently proposed that we
should start for ourselves. Being doubtful of my powers, I shrank from
risking my scanty funds in any speculative venture. Much to my mother's
concern, I had begun attending the theatre, and one night, on my friend
Ed Weed's invitation, I went with him to Niblo's. After the performance
we went to supper at Delmonico's, and I was perfectly fascinated by the
company and surroundings, going home long past midnight a different man
than I had last left it.
The next day Ed came to the office and invited me to lunch, where, after
making some disparaging remarks about the country cut of my garments, he
offered to introduce me to his tailor, who was never in a hurry for his
money. After business that day we walked uptown together, and, prompted
by Ed, I ordered $150 worth of garments, then went to his outfitter and
ordered nearly an equal amount in shirts, ties, gloves, etc.
One amusing result was that when, a few days later, I walked down to our
office, comme il faut in garb, my employers raised my salary to $30 a
week, but this left me poorer than when I had husbanded my poor little
$10. Soon after, piloted by Ed, I ventured $50 on a margin in gold.
Unluckily, I won, invested again and again, and within fourteen days was
$284 ahead. I paid my tailor and outfitter's bill, bought a $100 watch
on credit, and gave a wine supper on borrowed money. Soon after this I
went to board at the old St. Nicholas, the then fashionable hotel. From
that time I began to drift more and more away from home influences.
Soon after the wine supper episode I threw up my position, and Ed and I
started on our own account under the name of E. Weed & Co. My partner's
parents were wealthy, and his father had been well known in the street,
which fact gave us standing.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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