LXV.
PERQUISITES.
CURIOSITIES OF COMMERCIAL TRANSACTIONS.—PAYING COMMISSIONS IN EUROPE.—FUNNY EXPERIENCES.—SPREAD OF THE CUSTOM IN AMERICA.—HOW CONTRACTS ARE OBTAINED AND PAID FOR.—COMMISSIONS TO TRADESMEN AND OTHERS.—CURIOUS FEATURES OF THE PIANO TRADE.
American travellers in Europe frequently express astonishment at the commission system which prevails there among all classes of people. From the moment you land on European soil till the moment you leave it, you are the subject, or rather the object, of commissioners of every possible variety. I do not refer to the parties who expect and require you to pay money for direct services, but to those who make money out of you in an indirect way. You step on the dock at Liverpool or Havre, and an officious porter takes you in charge, and hands you over to a cabman. You pay the porter for his services, and think that the money you give him is all he receives. Not a bit of it. The cabman gives the porter a commission on the money which you pay for your ride, and very often this commission is a heavy one. Instances have come to my knowledge wherein the porter or servant engaging a carriage was paid twenty-five per cent. of the fare; and I once looked from a doorway in Rome, and saw the cabman give myvalet de placeexactly half the money which the former had received from me; and I had paid him only a few cents above the regular tariff. The couriers, or travelling servants, receive a commission on the hotel bills of the tourists whom they accompany, and also a commission on nearly all their bills of whatever sort. If you make purchases in shops, it will very likely make a difference of five or ten per cent. inyour bills whether you are accompanied by a courier or valet. Some of these fellows are constantly urging you to go to shops where you are likely to buy something, and very ingenious are the devices by which they wheedle you, or endeavor to wheedle you, into buying something. The shrewdest of them pretend to be your friends, and take your part with a great deal of vigor. I have in mind a valet that a party of us hired, one day, to show us the sights in the vicinity of Naples. We thought he was a capital fellow, as he was exceedingly earnest in his efforts to save us from the grasp of the swindlers. There were many sights to be seen, and consequently many fees to be paid; and he took especial care that we did not pay too much. A custodian would demand four francs for admitting the party to the special curiosity in his charge. “Two francs is the proper charge,” our conductor would say; and if the custodian persisted in his outrageous demand, our guardian would threaten to erect a dormer window on him. We, of course, would pay the two francs, and rejoice that we had not been defrauded. We learned, next day, that one franc would have been sufficient, and that the extra franc was divided between the custodian and our valet. He made a nice day’s work of it, as he received, in addition to his hire and commissions, a present of five francs from us for his fidelity. When we returned to the city, he took us to a coral store, but declined to enter, as he feared the proprietor would take advantage of us on account of his presence, and charge an extra sum, on pretence of expecting to pay commission. We learned afterwards that this was one of the tricks of the trade. It made us more willing to purchase, as it threw us off our guard; and no doubt the storekeeper and the valet had a laugh over the circumstance when the latter received his commission. For ways that are dark, and for tricks that are not in vain, commend me to a courier or avalet de placein Europe.
TRICKS UPON EUROPEAN TRAVELLERS.
REGULATING SWINDLES.
Sometimes this universal practice of giving commissions leads to funny experiences on the part of travellers. In 1867, the year of the Exposition, it was my fortune to be inParis, and to see the capital in its gayest and most prosperous times. Every Parisian, in whatever business engaged, was counting upon making a fortune, or, at all events, upon laying a broad and solid foundation for it. Prices were exorbitant; trade was brisk, and money was plenty. For had not the foreigners come from all parts of the globe, with abundance of cash, which they were scattering as the farmer scatters the grain he sows? The police came to the relief of the much-defrauded public; but though they regulated the cabmen and other public personages, they could not regulate the shop-keepers. Merchants would coolly demand a hundred francs for an article worth no more than twenty, and when you taxed them with an attempt to swindle, they explained that they must live, and that rents were very high. One day I found a small spot of grease on my hat, and stepped into a hat store close by the Grand Hotel. The shopman examined the hat for at least a minute, and then sent for the foreman of the work-room. The latter came, and the twain held a solemn consultation, that resulted in a proposition to eradicate the obnoxious grease if they could have three days’ time, and at an expense of twelve francs. I declined, and walked out. The same afternoon, at a small hat store in the Latin Quarter, the stain was removed inside of ten minutes, by the use of a hot iron; and the whole work cost but half a franc.
AN AMUSING EXPERIENCE.
There were lots of Americans in Paris at that time, and the most of them did not know enough French to swear in, much less to make a purchase, or order a breakfast. They used to fall upon such of us as knew the language, and compel us to act the part of valets in accompanying them on shopping tours. Very soon we were utterly sick of this amusement, and used to invent all sorts of excuses to be rid of it. One day I had some fun that lasted me a week at least, and was a standing joke, which several of my friends enjoyed hugely. A gentleman and lady of my acquaintance induced me to accompany them to a shop on theRue de la Paix, where I was to act as their interpreter in some projected purchases. I was the go-between in the transaction, and faithfully renderedthe English of the patrons into the French of the shop-keeper, andvice versâ. The purchases amounted to nearly three hundred francs; the goods were wrapped, and the money was paid over. My friends were taking a final glance into the show-cases on one side of the shop, while I was looking at something on the other side, and holding, by accident, my open hand on the counter. The shopman slipped a twenty-franc piece into my hand. His action surprised me for an instant; but I speedily comprehended the situation, closed upon the coin, and then took a sly glance at it. “Dix francs encore,” I demanded, in a whisper, and shook my head. There was a look of expostulation on the face of the merchant; but I repeated my demand, and received the extra ten francs. We left the shop, and I kept the occurrence to myself until evening, when I narrated it, in thecaféof the Grand Hotel, to a little group which included the gentleman whom I had accompanied. He was boasting of the cheapness with which he bought his articles that day, and recommended the shop as the most honest one in Paris. Then I came out with my story, and produced the identical money received from the dealer inbijouterie. The champagne which was bought with those thirty francs proved to be a very good article, but somewhat high priced, though no more so than the like material which my patron was obliged to purchase as soon as my commission was expended. He did not hear the last of that affair for some time, nor did I.
The foregoing is a prologue to a few remarks—rather a long prologue, I admit—upon the fraud of this custom of giving commissions in America. How long it has existed here, I do not know. Quite likely the fellow who negotiated the sale of Manhattan Island for twenty-four dollars, in the days of Hendrick Hudson, received a commission for his services; and it may be that the ministers who surrounded Ferdinand and Isabella, and persuaded them to listen to the daring Genoese navigator, and favor his project for a new route to the Indies, received a commission from Columbus as soon as the money for equipping his fleet was secured from the king and queen.History records that the Mayflower was very poorly equipped when she sailed with the Pilgrims for Plymouth Rock, and that the contractors who furnished her did not comply either with the letter or spirit of their agreement. If the matter could be investigated, I have little doubt we should find that the contractors were obliged to pay a commission to somebody, and that they found it so heavy as to take away all their profits, and compel them to the dreadful alternatives of being dishonest or losing money by the operation. At any rate, this is frequently the case nowadays, and I have known a man to be pressed so sorely by the commission-seekers that he found a contract, originally supposed to be very fat, to turn out so lean as to be no better than a skeleton. Particularly is this so with matters connected with the city government in New York.
STORY OF THE TAMMANY RING.
In the days of the Ring, a man would seek, we will say, a contract for paving a certain number of streets. He would pay a member of the Board of Aldermen to introduce a resolution authorizing the said pavement. Then a committee would be appointed to investigate the matter, and the committee would need something to help support their families, and also to secure a favorable report. Next it would be necessary to interview a sufficient number of the members to make a majority, and then the resolution would go through. The same course would be followed with the Board of Assistant Aldermen before the resolution would become a law of the city, and enable the pavement to proceed. And when the work is finished, there is trouble about getting the money for it. First comes the inspector, who is to pronounce upon the work, and say whether the terms of the contract have been met. His salary is small, and his expenses are large. He is the head of a numerous family, and is required to contribute to the success of his political party; and such success requires money. A judicious salve of greenbacks spread over the contract enables him to see as he should see, and he reports favorably. Then come the Board of Audit, Supervisors, and the like. They may not all need money; but there arecertain members andattachéswho are poor, but dishonest, and are struggling manfully against the floods and storms of this wicked and weary world. Delays are dangerous and vexatious, and to secure expedition and favorable action, there is nothing so good as money. And then there is the work of getting the money after the payment has been ordered, and very often somebody in the financial department of the city and county of New York will demand and receive his commission. Then there are outside bills to persons of influence, and when one has been settled, another and another will make its appearance.
UNDERCURRENTS OF CONTRACTS.
I have made no fancy sketch. This is the history of many a contract—probably of most of the contracts—with the city government of New York in the past twenty-five years. And it is for this reason that such exorbitant prices are paid for paving, street cleaning, and all other city work; and it is for this reason that many contracts which appear exceedingly profitable on their face, really furnish little or no profit. I have known several men who had large contracts on which they actually lost money, and I have in mind one who was driven into bankruptcy by a contract out of which he expected to make a large amount of money. He had calculated upon a shave of fifty per cent., and made his terms accordingly. But his actual proceeds were only twenty-two per cent. of the face of the contract, and even for that amount he was compelled to wait so long that he could not meet his outstanding bills, and became a financial wreck. Other city governments may be bad, but I think none of them are equal to that which has its scene of operations on Manhattan Island. I leave out of the case altogether the forgeries and raised bills of the Ring operators, and consider only those contracts which may be classed as strictly legitimate.
THE HOTEL-KEEPER AND ALDERMEN.
There is a good little story which is told of a noted hotel-keeper, whose name I will not mention, though there are dozens of New Yorkers who can give it, and can vouch for the correctness of the narrative. Some years ago there was a foreign embassy here, and the city government showed manyattentions to it. Our Boniface obtained from the Board of Aldermen an order for a grand dinner to the embassy, and a splendid affair it was. The bill was about three times what it should have been; but Boniface was a good fellow, and agreed to divide with the aldermen if they would put it through. They did so, and, what was more, they ordered the immediate payment of the money. It was paid; and Boniface sent word to the members who had befriended him to come to the hotel at a certain hour, next day, and he would do the handsome thing. They came promptly, every man of them, and were assembled in one of the parlors. Boniface was among them, with a greeting for everybody, and he poured out his wine in the most liberal manner. He was a good talker, and kept them amused with his wine and his stories for a full hour or more. But time was pressing, and some of them hinted that they had better end the business, and separate.
“Don’t go yet,” said Boniface; “take some more wine.”
They took it, and hinted that they came for the divide.
“Take some more wine, boys; I’m going to do the handsome thing.”
“But that divvy, Bonny,” urged one of the party. “We can’t stay longer, as we have a meeting this afternoon, and it is almost time for it.”
“Boys,” said the hotel-keeper, “I’ve just ordered a basket of this wine for each of you, and you will find it at your houses when you go home.”
“Hang the wine! We want that money, and that’s what we came for.”
“Now, boys,” said Bonny, seating himself in an arm-chair, and smiling till his mouth resembled the entrance to a railway tunnel, “I suppose you’d call me a d—d skunk, if I went back on you, and didn’t hand over a cent.”
“Of course we should,” said half a dozen, almost in unison; “but we don’t think you’d do that.”
“Well, that’s just about the size of it,” he replied. “I’ve got the money, and mean to keep it. You may have all thewine you want, but I’m not going to corrupt you with money, and you may call me what you d—n please. Have some more wine, boys; have some more wine.”
The boys were in no mood for drinking just then. They went away sorrowing, and they all cursed him in all the epithets known to the language. It is even said that they offered liberal premiums to anybody who would invent fresh forms of swearing, so that they could speak their minds fairly. Common profanity wouldn’t do.
AN UNDERTAKING COMMISSION.
Few persons have any idea of the extent of this commission business in ordinary affairs. I mean those unconnected with politics. It would be difficult to name any branch of business where commissions are not paid to somebody. Lawyers give commissions to those who send them clients; doctors pay those who recommend them to patients; grocers, butchers, bakers, and candlestick makers pay commissions to those who send them patronage; tailors, milliners, haberdashers, confectioners, florists, bar-keepers, taverners—in fact, nearly all persons who buy, or sell, or fill orders, are obliged to pay commissions to somebody. Railway companies, steamship companies, and dozens of other corporations—reputed to be without souls—pay commissions, and will continue to pay them to the end of time. Even undertakers are not exempt. I know of two cases wherein they have paid for the business which came to them, and have heard of several others. One that was told me a few weeks ago was as follows: A woman in a fashionable boarding-house died suddenly, and her husband asked the landlady to send for an undertaker. She did so, and the job proved a good one, as the bereaved husband was possessed of considerable money, and wished to do the thing up in style. He told the undertaker to make the funeral a swell one, and not to stand on expense. The undertaker obeyed orders, and the affair was the envy of the remaining boarders in the house. A day or two after the payment of the bill, the landlady called at the coffin shop, and quietly hinted that a death in a house is a sad thing, especially in a boarding-house. The undertaker assented,and without further parley drew a check for fifty dollars, which consoled the unhappy matron, and turned her sorrow into delight. When another boarder dies she will not forget this slight testimonial of the undertaker’s respect and esteem.
TAILORS AND THE BILLS THEY PAY.
Many a nice young man about town is clothed free of expense by fashionable tailors who have an eye to business, and know it is to their advantage to keep the much viewed swells in fine garments. Grocers, butchers, bakers, and all men of their ilk, pay commissions to house servants much oftener than their employers imagine. The custom has become very general in New York in the past few years, and in some households the wages of the servants are the smallest part of their incomes. On New Year’s day the grocers send presents to the servants, generally a bottle of whiskey or gin to each cook or kitchen maid, and the result is, that, in a good many houses, the servants below stairs, on the first day of January, are quite as drunk as the majority of the visitors and entertainers in the parlors above. At the railway and steamboat landings, the hackmen frequently pay commissions to the policemen who allow them good places in the line, and do not press them to move on. Policemen, by the way, make a great many commissions—when their consciences are flexible—from gin-shops, gambling-houses, and other establishments which may as well be nameless, and in the same way hotel clerks and hackmen are enabled to add materially to their regular incomes. The hotel clerks come in for commissions on the tailors, and the same is the case with others who come in contact with strangers. For example, there is a tailor in New York who is understood to have friendly relations with one of the consulates,—I don’t mean with the consul, but with some of the subordinates. When a foreign traveller drops into this consulate, and says, “I want some clothes, you know, and I want to know, you know, where I can find a good tailor, you know,” some one is moved to say, “My dear fellow, you know, go to ——‘s; here’s his card; awful nice tailor, you know; will just suit you, my boy.” The travellergoes, and remarks to the tailor that they told him at the consulate that this was the place. Is it anybody’s business if somebody gets the handsome thing done for him?
INTRODUCTION TO GAMBLERS.
There is one trick in the business which has been adopted by many people, but the point of it is rarely seen by the victim. It is that of giving a letter of introduction by way of holding a tighter grip on the party to be skinned, and also of avoiding a dispute as to the validity of the claim for a commission. Jones, from the country, is stopping at the Bangup Hotel, and asks the clerk to direct him to a good, respectable gambling-house, or something of the sort, as he is a stranger in town, and doesn’t know the ropes. Clerk tells him, for instance, that Heenan’s or Morrissey’s is just what he wants, and draws from his pocket a card, on which is printed the name of the clerk of the Bangup. Then he writes on the back thereof, “This is my particular friend, Mr. Jones: treat him kindly; show him every attention, and charge it to me.” “Be sure and hand him this card,” the clerk enjoins; “otherwise he won’t know you, and won’t show you any more attention than anybody else.” Jones delivers the card, is treated politely, and often leaves a hundred dollars or so in the house, and is satisfied. So also is the clerk when he receives his share of the proceeds.
A few years ago there were two hotels, one in New York, and the other in a western city, which were run in a sort of half-way partnership. Suppose you were a patron of the New York concern, and were about going to the other city: mine host of Manhattan would say, “Let me give you a letter to my cousin,” and forthwith he wrote a warm letter, in which you were represented as a particular friend,—you will always find a “particular” in the letter,—one of the best of men, a gentleman in the true sense of that word, and one whose acquaintance would be an honor of which the President of the United States and the Emperor of Russia might be proud. You would be deserving the highest respect, and should receive the very best the house could afford.
A MODEL LETTER OF INTRODUCTION.
You took the letter,—I have seen several of them,—andwent to the house named in it. I never knew anybody who received any special courtesy in consequence, but he generally found his bill from twenty to fifty per cent. higher than it would have been had he brought no introduction. The two hotels played that game a long time before travellers found them out, and it was astonishing how long it took to discover the trick. A friend of mine once arrived here from the hotel at the other end of the line. I met him at the dock, and urged him to go to the house where I lived. “No,” said he, “I have a letter from —— to his cousin here, and I am going to that hotel. Just look at that letter.” I read the document, which was one of the most fulsome things you ever saw, and would clearly entitle my friend to canonization. He went to the hotel, was politely received, crammed into a room under the eaves, and about as large as a cigar-box; could not get moved lower down, though they promised every hour that they would transfer him on the next; and after staying there four days, left in disgust, with the additional affront of a bill, in which there were all real and several erroneous extras at the highest possible or impossible rates. The real wording of that letter should have been,—
“This is one of our patrons; stick him in anywhere, and charge him all you can.”
COMMISSIONS IN THE PIANO TRADE.
I presume the business that pays more commissions than any other is that of making and selling pianos. In the first place each large establishment usually keeps a man to write its advertisements and look after its business relations with the press and advertising mediums generally. One manufacturer, a shrewd foreigner, is understood to employ one of the musical critics, who not only prepares pamphlets and advertisements, but devotes his criticisms as far as possible to the interest of his master. Then, most of the distinguished pianists who come here are each paid by some one of the manufacturers to toot for his piano. If you look at the programmes of these piano concerts and recitals, you will generally see a line announcing “The Muggins piano is exclusively used at this concert, and recommended by Herr Ivorypounder.” One pianist, now in thiscountry, was brought here by a piano maker who guaranteed forty thousand dollars for a six months’ tour; and another foreign pianist, now here, has a similar guarantee of twenty thousand. It is safe to say that half the noted foreign pianists are imported by the piano makers, and that half the rest are engaged and subsidized by the makers soon after they get here. Then, most of the concert tours are backed by the piano men; and I know several instances in which they have been directly organized by them. They may lose money on the tour itself, but they make money out of the extra sales of pianos. Then they are obliged to pay commissions to music stores and to music teachers who recommend their wares and effect sales, and frequently to persons totally unconnected with musical matters, such as upholsterers, carpenters, and friends of the families where pianos are bought. I know an instance wherein a man who was paying attention to a young lady received two hundred and fifty dollars from a piano dealer for turning the attention of his loved one from the instrument of Stiggins to that of Wiggins. He accompanied her to the store, where she made her purchase; her papa sent his check next morning, and in the afternoon her dear Charles Augustus called for and obtained his commission. And he is not the only society man, by a long way, who makes something out of the piano dealers.
The daughter of a wealthy citizen not long ago wanted a piano, and the wealthy citizen told her to select one. The house was undergoing some repairs and alterations, and the carpenters and upholsterers were at work there. Maria was taking music lessons, and appealed to her teacher for advice; the latter recommended a Muggins, and in the course of a week or so the piano was bought and sent home. The teacher was suddenly called out of town, and did not visit Muggins until ten or twelve days after the purchase. When he asked for his commission, Muggins told him it was already paid.
“To whom?” was the question, with emphasis of astonishment.
“To Reps & Co., upholsterers.”
TRICK OF REPS AND COMPANY.
“What right had they to it?”
“They came here next day after the piano was sent home, and said they were upholstering the house, and were consulted about a piano. They recommended mine as specially adapted to the house, and said it was bought through their influence. I paid them the commission. Since then the carpenters have been here, and now you make the third applicant. I am sorry it has happened so, but take a check for fifty dollars, and whenever you influence another sale, let me know at once.”
The music teacher was badly sold, as it afterwards turned out that Reps & Co. did not know a word about the piano till they saw it in the house. Had he been as sharp as some others of his profession, he would have notified each of the piano makers, as soon as Maria broached the subject, that he was trying to sell his piano, and then, no matter whose make she selected, he would have obtained his honestly earned commission.