Part 12

I was once employed to track an absconding bankrupt and hand him over to the tender mercies of a criminal court. There was nothing in the case, as it appeared on my instructions, to distinguish it from a host of other cases. It had not even the merit of difficulty to lend it interest. I made sure of catching my man with little trouble, as I did, and as I will point out. The affair, however, took a rather curious turn in the sequel, as the reader will perceive.

The bankrupt had been a trader in Liverpool. He had not been in business there more than ten months, but had contrived, during that short period, to contract debts to the extent of 84,000_l._ I don't know in what line he traded. I believe in many, or in all lines. He professed to be a believer in homely saws, and the philosophy they embody. He would not object at any time, he said, to turn an honest pound in any way. He therefore bought all that came within the range of his credit, from rags and hempen fragments to jewelry, and from tallow to diamonds. I don't know where he traded to especially. I believe that he sold more in the home-market than abroad, although he talked largely about consignments, bills of lading, &c. If he had a skill for getting credit, he had a genius for disposing of goods. He was also an expert at what is called hypothecating,--a process which, for the unenlightened, I may explain to be as like pawning as any one thing can be like another. A peculiarity of his business was, that he always bought on acceptances, and for credit; he always sold for cash on delivery. Hence he frequently, if not always, traded at a loss. He was sometimes so unlucky as not to be able to get half as much in cash for things as they had cost him in bills.

Such trading as this, the reader may think, would soon come to an end. It is quite clear that such trading must end in bankruptcy and ruin to some one, or to more than one. It is not, however, so sure that this mode of carrying on business would overtake ruin speedily. Our American bankrupt lasted ten months; and it is the opinion of many well informed persons that he might have gone on for three or four years if he had calculated well, and held his ground boldly. How was that to be done? Easily. There is a process which I have heard scientifically described as "widening the ratio." That would have done it.

Suppose that a man in trade loses 500_l._ upon the business of 1000_l._, which is about the proportion in our Yankee's business or its results. Suppose that he wants to spend, and therefore does spend, the 500_l._ on himself. Is he bound to stop payment at the end of that partial experiment, and treat the problem as one therein solved? No. He may double his business and losses, and still keep right, in a familiar sense of that nice phrase. If he should trade to the extent of 2000_l._, and lose 1000_l._ upon it, he will be able to pay off the first credits out of the net proceeds of his second series of operations; and all the people who get their money--noticing, also, the activity of his business--will sound his praises as "a rising merchant," "an upright man," "a punctual tradesman." To live during the second series of operations out of them, they should, however, be extended to 3000_l._ or 4000_l._, instead of 2000_l._; and nothing is much easier than to do this. Keep on paying each bill as it falls due (no matter at what sacrifice,--by the forced sale of goods, or by discounts at any rate of interest), and there will be no difficulty about "widening your ratio of trade," until you are entitled to a place in that category of worthies which Mr. David Morier Evans has culled and put together in his work entitled, _Facts, Frauds, and Fallacies_. Some day the bubble will burst, I know; but the ball may be kept rolling for a series of years on this plan.

It is just possible that a hitch may stop the machinery. There are accidents against which no human foresight can guard; and if the bright pleasant road to ruin gets blocked up, you may in the side paths encounter a policeman, who will lead you to a judge, and a prison, or a hulk. That I take to be one of the inevitable contingencies which any swindler will look fairly in the face--avoid it, if he can; and if not, then meet it with calmness and resignation.

The Yankee did not, however, as I am told, understand this practical method of commercial swindling, and he would have inevitably come to grief if he had been an Englishman. The reader may as well bear that little fact in mind. A great man once observed that, although many persons resolved to live by their wits, the vast majority of those who tried the experiment got half starved by a scarcity of the material for that sort of existence.

The penal clauses of the New Bankruptcy Act are also to be kept in view as things to avoid, for I see by the Old-Bailey intelligence they are being enforced with terrible severity. If caught and discovered offending against any of the primary canons of mercantile jurisprudence, the weight of punishment is heavy. The reader must also not forget that, although he gives the criminal law and its officers no hold over him, he may encounter cantankerous or savage creditors, who, not satisfied with the loss they may have already incurred through him, will throw away more good money, not after bad cash, but in order to punish what they conceive a bad man. They may hunt him down to disgrace and beggary, hold him up to scorn and ignominy--in violation of the pure Christian theory which bids us "live and let live"--never ceasing until he has no certain and regular mode of existence left except begging-letter writing, holding horses at the West End of the metropolis, hawking ballads, vending penny newspapers, retailing vegetables or fruit or stationery, or a life of idleness in a union workhouse.

But I am moralising, preaching, or sermonising, instead of telling my story.

Well. Mr. Abraham Driver had run his career in ten months. During this time it was believed that he had, however, to use a vulgar term, "made a purse," or "feathered his nest." He had realised considerable sums by hypothecating and selling goods, getting advances on bills of lading, &c. Where the money had gone to, his creditors were anxious to know. They believed he could pay 20_s._ in the pound. As a matter of fact, he didn't pay 1_s._ in the pound.

Abraham Driver, merchant, dealer, and chapman, as he was described in legal processes, was adjudicated a bankrupt. He didn't surrender. Perhaps, if his creditors had had an adequate idea of the dignity of American citizenship, or the sanctity of the stars and stripes, or the potency of the meanest recognised Yankee diplomat, they would never have offered such an affront as they did through Mr. Driver to his bumptious nation.

The Yankee merchant and citizen, as I have said, didn't surrender to his adjudication in obedience to a printed and written summons, which he received. He treated that "big broad slip of paper" with gross verbal contempt. Yet he thought it inexpedient to stay in Liverpool. That fine town was too hot for him. He therefore shifted his quarters to London before the day limited for his appearance in the Liverpool District Court of Bankruptcy. When in London, he said he thought he might as well enjoy himself; and this notion carried him further from the late scene of his enterprise than the British metropolis. He turned his back disdainfully upon the land over which Queen Victoria's metaphorical sceptre sways. He went by rail and steamboat to the continent of Europe.

Almost as soon as Mr. Driver left the shores of the Mersey, I was desired to bestow upon him my attentions. I supplied him with an unseen guard of dishonour. His movements were watched until he landed at the port of ----. Here, as no instructions to arrest him on the Continent were given me, he was left.

The principal creditors of the bankrupt determined to follow him. He was now an outlaw. The time for his surrender had expired. A warrant that would run into France could be obtained for his arrest and for his removal to this country. The requisite processes--or those which able lawyers thought sufficient--were obtained, and placed in my hands.

I went over myself, and one of the Liverpool gentlemen was my agreeable companion.

In obedience to the wishes of my employer and associate, I consented to go with him to the office of the British consul.

The British consul was a high and mighty man in his own esteem, and he snuffed me out in the grandest style. I could not help admiring the art with which this servant of the British Crown reduced me, from the height of my legitimate self-respect, to the nothingness he thought my true status.

"They manage things differently in France to what they do in England, sir, I can tell you. Now, leave the matter all to me, sir, till the fellow's captured, and you have him again in England."

I and my friend retired to the passage of the consul's office (which was one small room) to confer on the subject. The consul also had a conference in his office with his man of all work, whose name I afterwards ascertained to be Boggy. At this conference I agreed to allow the consul to take his own course of action in France, and I was to merely assist when asked to render aid.

"Well, my man Boggy shall go and see whether the fellow is at this moment in the port. Boggy will soon ascertain that."

Boggy's palm was crossed with a golden coin, which bore an effigy of England's Queen, to stimulate his zeal in the execution of her laws.

The Frenchman was not long in discovering Mr. Abraham Driver's whereabouts. He came back to announce that the man we wanted was unsuspectingly smoking a meerschaum at the Anglo-American Hotel.

Now to seize the villain. I was ready, and the defrauded creditor was intensely anxious for the fellow's capture.

"Nay, nay," said the consul. "We must go to the commissary of police. I must pay his fees. It will not take long to get through the ceremonies, but it will cost money to arrest the scoundrel. Nothing is done in this country, sir, without money."

"What will be the amount of the fees, do you suppose?" asked my client.

"I can't say exactly. About 16_l._ or 17_l._ You had better let me have 20_l._, and I can return you the balance."

Boggy here threw his mercurial eyes at the consul, and then at me, and then at my client. This had the desired effect.

"Never mind about the change. I don't object to give 20_l._ (handing over the money) for the villain's capture. You can let this good man have the balance," said the gentleman from Liverpool.

Boggy, with glistening eye, and with triumphant mien, led the way. I followed with my companion.

We passed into and out of several mysterious offices. Our warrant and other papers were scrutinised with tedious minuteness. Boggy seemed at home, and at ease with the minor officials, and to have a becoming veneration for the big-wigs.

At length we quitted the head-quarters of the commissary, and our procession looked really formidable as we marched towards the Anglo-American Hotel. There were six gendarmes, a sergeant at their head, Boggy in their rear, and two Englishmen in the rear of the British consul's Frenchman.

As we passed along the quay, we observed, not far from the Anglo-American Hotel, and with steam up, ready for her departure, a vessel bound for a distant Atlantic port.

"He is going away by dat ship, is he?" chuckled the Frenchman. "See, here he comes," the lively man continued to exclaim.

He was quite right. There, at a few yards' distance, was Mr. Abraham Driver, merchant, dealer, and chapman, late of Liverpool, an absconded bankrupt.

He was walking coolly down to the quay, smoking his cigar, and about to take his departure in the vessel we had noticed.

At a suggestion from Boggy, the sergeant arrested the English bankrupt. The creditor and the debtor exchanged a very few words, not of mutual compliment.

"I guess you've made a grand mistake, my good gentleman," said Mr. Driver, with a strong nasal accent (which had never been remarked in Liverpool), as if anxious to supply the evidence of his nationality, and save the trouble of being asked for it.

Up to this moment neither the creditor nor I had any idea that he was not an Englishman and a subject of the Queen's.

"What do you mean, sir?" asked the sergeant of gendarmes, in tolerably good English.

"Why, I guess you know that I am an American citizen; and mind now, I warn, you, sir, not to annoy me for the delight of those confounded Britishers."

The officer looked at us.

"He is an English bankrupt subject, to the jurisdiction of our laws, and a felon," I observed.

"I calculate that's very tall talk, all that, and when you catch me back in that old country of yours you may be all right, I dare say; but I tell you, sir, that if you keep me here till after that ship's gone, you'll have a very pretty penny to pay, that you will, I reckon."

"You must come with us to the _maire_," the sergeant said.

"Oh, I guess if you say I must, that I must; but here--look--here is my passport. It's all fair and square, you see. Now, mind what you do to an American citizen--that's all I tell you now."

The hissing of the steam increased.

"Now, I guess," he continued, "that you'll take me first to the consulate of the United States, won't you?"

"No, to the _maire_."

He looked round wistfully, and took out a ten-franc piece from his pocket.

"Who is there will go to the consul of the United States, and tell him that an American citizen wants his protection. Ask him to come to the _maire_ before that steam-ship there can go away."

Boggy grasped the piece of money.

"Here, I don't mind doing that. An Englishman in trouble would like to have his consul's advice. That's only right."

Away Boggy ran to fetch the guardian of the stars and stripes, as cheerfully as he had devoted himself to Mr. Driver's discovery.

Three minutes took us to the _maire_. The American consul was there as soon as we were. The British consul was not there. The _maire_ heard what the bankrupt and his consul had to say, and then ruled that there was no ground to justify the further detention of the bankrupt, who was protected by the passport of his nation. He could certainly not be given up under the English warrant, and he should not detain him unless his accusers could enter into sufficient recognisances, available in France, to indemnify the accused.

We had nobody present to enter into the required bonds; the extent of the risk was an unknown quantity, and the vagabond was set loose.

As he parted from us, he put his finger to his nose, and whistled a bar of "Hail Columbia." He picked out a fusee from his pocket, then lit his cigar, and, with a degree of speed compatible with an air of mock stateliness, the blackguard walked down to the quay, then on board the ship, as she let slip her hawser.

We were neither of us very well pleased at the result of this excursion. It was impossible to resist the mortification of seeing the blackguard slip through our hands, as we thought we had him effectually in our grasp.

We did not return to the consulate of her Britannic Majesty. We stayed only about another hour in France to refresh ourselves, as there was a vessel then about to start for England, and we were desirous of getting home.

* * * * *

There is a moral to this story which politicians may relish; and I am therefore about to add material out of which a Member of Parliament might make a reputation. I have disguised the names and localities of the actors in this little international mercantile drama. It may, however, be worth while to add, that the facts are substantially and--with the specific exceptions I name--literally correct. If any Member of Parliament or noble lord wants the real name and address of the consul, I am at liberty to give it; if he wants the real names of any other actors in this little drama, I can and am at liberty to supply them.

On our return homewards we discussed the conduct of the consul--our own consul--in this affair. We were led to doubt the propriety of his taking that money from us. We suspected that he wanted it, not to pay the French police any fees, but to put in his own pocket. We thought that, if our suspicions were accurate, the conduct of the consul was scandalous.

I made inquiries. In a letter from the commissary of police I was informed that the French officers were not permitted to take fees, and that not one sou had been paid to a gendarme out of the 20_l._ taken from us. By direction of the French local authorities, proceedings against the British consul were taken in a local court. He disputed the jurisdiction of the French tribunals. He set up his consulship in bar of the suit. On this purely technical point--the merits of the case being taken from under the control of the court--an appeal went up to a court of appeal. The consul's plea in bar of jurisdiction was held to be a good one. The French judges held that the defrauded person being an Englishman, and the alleged offender being an English consul, the remedy was by an application to the Foreign Office in London. Memorials, setting forth all the merits or demerits of the case, and setting forth the miscarriage of justice in the French courts, accompanied by newspaper reports of the arguments and the decisions, were laid before a late Foreign Secretary. The answer to this memorial and evidence was, that, as the case had been taken before the French courts, and decided upon, his lordship saw no reason to interfere. Further explanations were offered, rearguing that the merits of the case against the consul had not been heard, that he took effectual means to prevent these merits from being touched by the French courts, and that the case was indeed remitted from French law to British diplomacy. Still, almost word for word, and to the same precise effect, was the answer. A third application, further endeavours to show the Foreign Office its duty, elicited only an answer, almost word for word, and to the same precise effect. So the matter was dropped, and it now lies where it was dropped a few years since.

WHO WAS THE GREATEST CRIMINAL?

About six years ago a detective officer, in the employ of the regularly constituted authorities whose local habitation is Scotland Yard, Westminster, was directed to track a young delinquent who had, it was said, forged the autograph of his master, a tradesman in the borough of Southwark.

The search was not a very difficult one. The culprit, who had only defrauded some one of 50_l._ by that operation, I dare say, thought he had got possession of an inexhaustible fortune; or I should rather say that he acted as if he thought so.

It is said that thieves (I mean strictly professional thieves), who have either been born and bred to the craft of robbery, or who have served an irregular apprenticeship thereto, look with cool deliberation at the risks and contingencies of every enterprise, weigh its profit or loss, and are careful not to load the adverse scale of probabilities by rashness or indiscretion. This is, I believe, the case with regular thieves. It is not the case with those who are betrayed by impulse or necessity into the commission of a single crime. Fast men (clerks, shopmen, and the like), when they rob a till, steal a few pounds' worth of goods, or even perpetrate a forgery, act in the most foolish way imaginable. In most cases they aid the task of their discovery, if they do not entirely lay open the secret of their crime.

The case I am describing illustrates one half of my theory, and shows the truth of an old saw which affirms that ill-gotten money does no good to the possessor.

The means of the fraud or forgery were procured by the criminal on the Monday afternoon. On the Tuesday morning he made use of them. He did not on that day put in an appearance at his situation, and his absence was immediately remarked. An inquiry was made, by his master's directions, at his lodgings, and it was ascertained that he had not slept there since the Monday night. His landlady was as uneasy about him as his master--perhaps more so. She was starting to make inquiries concerning him, when inquiries were made of her on the subject. The good woman, a widow, who was the mother of a family (all grown up to man and woman's estate, and off her hands), dreaded that some harm had come to her lodger. These forebodings of evil took no definite shape,--that is to say, a hundred different forms of peril, misadventure, and suffering crowded so rapidly on the kind-hearted woman's brain, that they became merged and confused; but her suspicions never traced the fact, nor any thing like the reality. The master of the young man, so far unlike the landlady, was not troubled by many thoughts about his clerk. All that gentleman said or thought about him may be put into a few short sentences. He said he was a blackguard, and that he should never have a character from him; that it was a rascally shame to leave him in the lurch, without the slightest notice; that he ought to be punished (as artisans are in the manufacturing districts) for neglecting his work, and breaking his contract for service. Yet, argued the master, "there are plenty of fish in the sea as good as were ever caught. I dare say I can get another clerk, after all, any day, at 15_s._ per week, quite as good as that fellow. When Mr. Thinshanks comes back whining for me to employ him, he'll find that I won't, that's all. No, it isn't all either. I shall just tell him a bit of my mind as well. I'll kick him out of my counting-house, and tell him to go to ----" Well, never mind where, my readers; it wasn't Botany Bay, nor Woolwich, nor Portsmouth, nor Millbank, nor Pentonville, that the metaphor or expletive assigned as his destination. Perhaps your imagination, reader, will spare me all excuse for sullying my pages by mentioning the locality, which some original mind has said is not fit to name or write to ears or eyes polite.

In Wednesday morning's _Times_ there appeared an advertisement, which informed the readers of the leading journal that Mr. Crapp wanted, as clerk, a single young man, of good education, quick at accounts, who wrote a superior hand, of unquestionable sobriety, strict honesty, and enjoying one or two minor qualities. These must must be vouched by undeniable references. The salary offered by Mr. Crapp was 15_s._ per week. Three hundred applicants wrote to J. C. (Mr. Crapp's initials), at the post-office adjacent to his place of business, in the course of Wednesday. On Thursday morning the employer selected from the lot half a dozen letters, and saw as many young men that evening. On Friday an applicant who had passed through "the ordeal by reference" whole and unscathed in body and reputation, was given the stool on which Mr. Thinshanks had been long perched with honour.

That day the new clerk received a numerous body of commands. He had been called upon to solemnly declare before Mr. Crapp that he wasn't afraid of work; and the truth of such averment was tested, as far as it could be, in a single day--on the Friday.

Among the numerous directions Mr. Crapp gave his new clerk were instructions to write to Messrs. Clockwork and Rigid, politely asking the reason why they had not acknowledged the receipt of the cheque for 50_l._ 4_s._ 1½_d._, which had been sent them in due course on the previous Monday afternoon?

This firm carried on business in the neighbourhood of Shoreditch. It did not take long for Mr. Thinshanks's successor to write that and a dozen other letters of equal brevity, and it, with the others, was posted by eleven o'clock on Friday morning.