Excerpt from Jack Corbett, Mariner -- Permission Granted to use in reviews or commentary with the following credit:
From Jack Corbett, Mariner, Copyright © 2003, Denny Hatch Associates, Inc. All Rights Reserved

    Ruin for others began early with the suspension of Fisk & Hatch, Jay Cooke's faithful lieutenants during the Civil War. They had calls upon them for one million five hundred thousand dollars in the first fifteen minutes after opening the doors, and at once closed them again, the failure being ascribed to Collis P. Huntington's Central Pacific Railroad and the Chesapeake & Ohio.

    The first failure of Fisk and Hatch shattered some of Grandfather's confidence and put something of crimp in his operations. No longer did he spend money like Sailor Jack on a binge. Nor was he completely out of the woods. He sold the yacht and cut down his scale of living. The economy drive reached somewhat absurd proportions. In a household of that size even toilet paper was a considerable item. Greatgrandma Ruggles, who appears to have been in charge of retrenchment, decreed that no one could use more than one piece per sitting. This caused a revolt in the household; the older children demanded three pieces.

    When Father graduated from high school, Grandpa proposed to send him to Yale like his older brother, Will. Father said, "It will only be a waste of money. I have all the education I need. If I go to Yale, I'll just play around and have a fine time. I'd rather go to work."

    So Father became a junior clerk in Fisk & Hatch. The firm was still the largest dealer in government bonds, and very interesting people came in to buy them. As the son of the house, Father waited on them. One customer was the actor, Joseph Jefferson, famous for his characterization on the stage as Rip Van Winkle, who, according to legend, slept for twenty years in the Catskills and returned home to find that no one recognized him; even his faithful dog was dead. When Jefferson announced that he wanted to buy $10,000 worth of bonds, Father said, "Well, Mr. Jefferson, we'll need some sort of identification."

    Leaning against the cashier's cage Jefferson drawled in Rip's authentic voice a famous line from the play: "If my dog, Schneider, were here, he'd know me."

    That was identification enough.

    Another famous, or notorious, character who came to buy bonds was Richard Albert Canfield, the greatest gambler of the era, who ran illegal casinos in Saratoga Springs, Newport and, of course, New York. A game of solitaire is named for him. As Canfield stood waiting for the bonds to be made out, Father rather impertinently said, "Mr. Canfield, isn't this a rather conservative investment for someone in your hazardous line of business?"

    "Hazardous, hell!" said Canfield. "I don't care what happens on one turn of the wheel or a hundred turns of the wheel, but on every thousand turns of the wheel my percentage is just as sure as the interest on these government bonds."

    Fisk & Hatch's most famous customer was Mrs. Abraham Lincoln. After many years the Congress had decided that the American people owed something to the widow of the martyred President and voted her $25,000. She patriotically decided to invest the money in government bonds and came into the Fisk & Hatch office at 5 Nassau Street. The bonds were duly made out and presented to Mrs. Lincoln, who said, "These bonds are made out wrong. They're to Mary Todd Lincoln. They must be made to Mrs. Abraham Lincoln."

    Grandpa explained to her that the law required that bonds be made out in that style. "I'll not have them," said Mrs. Lincoln. "You must arrange to have them made out properly."

    Grandpa sent someone to Washington to confer with the Secretary of the Treasury and, as a result, a special bill was rushed through Congress. To this day the only woman who has ever held United States Government Bonds in her husband's name is Mrs. Abraham Lincoln.

    The firm's close connections with the government once paid off handsomely. In the eighties government bonds, issued during the Civil War at a high rate of interest, were selling at a premium of several points. Rumors began to fly that the government proposed to call them at par and float an issue at a much lower rate of interest. If this happened holders of the bonds would suffer a loss of the premium. Since Fisk & Hatch had a large inventory of the bonds, Grandpa sent father to Washington to discover the government's intentions if he could. Though only in his early twenties, Father had no trouble making an appointment with the Secretary of the Treasury.

    But he could not get any satisfaction. Quite correctly, the secretary refused to divulge the government's intentions. After twenty minutes of polite but uninformative conversation, Father got up to take his leave. As he did so the secretary said, "All I can tell you, Mr. Hatch, is that ample notice will be given to the public if and when we decide to call the bonds."

    Nothing there, except as the secretary said "ample notice" father noted a slight flutter of his left eyelid; you couldn't call it a wink, or could you? Father rushed to the nearest telegraph office and wired Grandpa "SELL ALL GOVERNMENTS."

    About a week later the bonds were called.

    Another interesting experience occurred some years later when Grandpa sent father over to discuss some financing with J.P. Morgan. In that famous firm all the partners sat at desks in one big room. As father approached the great financier, Mr. Morgan's face suddenly became contorted, his eyes rolled, he snorted and gave little incoherent cries. One of his partners leapt up and threw a handkerchief over his face; otherwise no one paid any attention. Somewhat embarrassed father said, "Perhaps it would be better if I came to talk with Mr. Morgan some other time."

    "Oh, no," the partner said. "He'll come out of it in a minute or so."

    The epileptic seizure was brief. In less than five minutes Mr. Morgan was talking business with father as though nothing had happened.

All royalties after out-of-pocket expenses from Jack Corbett, Mariner will be donated by the Hatch family to The New York City Rescue Mission founded by Jerry McAuley and A. S. Hatch 130 years ago. See The New York City Rescue Mission on 9/11.