Yet from the first he was liberal and sometimes magnificent in the management of his bank. He would discount none but good paper, but it was his policy to grant accommodations to small traders, and thus encourage beginners, usually giving the preference to small notes, by this system doing very much to avert the evils that would of necessity have sprung from the suspension of the old Bank of the United States. The Government credit was almost destroyed, and money was needed to carry on the war. He made repeated advances to the treasury, unsolicited by the authorities, and on more than one occasion kept the Government supplied with the sinews of war. In 1814, when our prospects, both military and financial, were at their lowest ebb, when the British forces had burned Washington and the New England States were threatening to withdraw from the Union, the Government asked for a loan of five millions of dollars, with the most liberal inducements to subscribers. Only twenty thousand dollars could be obtained, and the project seemed doomed to failure, when it was announced that Stephen Girard had subscribed for the whole amount. This announcement at once restored the public confidence, and Mr. Girard was beset with requests from persons anxious to take a part of the loan, even at an advanced rate. They were allowed to do so upon the original terms. When the Government could not, for want of funds, pay the interest on its debt to him, he wrote to the Secretary of the Treasury:
"I am of opinion that those who have any claim for interest on public stock, etc., should patiently wait for a more favorable moment, or at least receive in payment treasury notes. Should you be under the necessity of resorting to either of these plans, as one of the public creditors, I shall not murmur."
"A circumstance soon occurred, however, which was a source of no little discomfiture to the financial arrangements of his individual institution. This fact was the suspension of specie payments by the State banks, resulting from the non-intercourse act, the suspension of the old bank, and the combined causes tending to produce a derangement of the currency of the country. It was then a matter of great doubt with him how he should preserve the integrity of his own institution, while the other banks were suspending their payments; but the credit of his own bank was effectually secured by the suggestion of his cashier, Mr. Simpson, who advised the recalling of his own notes by redeeming them with specie, and by paying out the notes of the State banks. In this mode not a single note of his own was suffered to be depreciated, and he was thus enabled, in 1817, to contribute effectually to the restoration of specie payments."
He was instrumental in securing the establishment of the new Bank of the United States, and was its largest stockholder and one of its directors. He even offered to unite his own institution with it upon certain liberal conditions, which were refused. Yet he was always a firm friend to it.
"One of the characteristics of Mr. Girard was his public spirit. At one time he freely subscribed one hundred and ten thousand dollars for the navigation of the Schuylkill; at another time he loaned the company two hundred and sixty-five thousand eight hundred and fifty dollars. When the credit of the State of Pennsylvania was prostrated by what was believed to have been an injudicious system of internal improvement, and it was found expedient for the Governor to resort to its metropolis in order to replenish its coffers, he made a voluntary loan to Governor Shultz of one hundred thousand dollars. So far was his disposition to promote the fiscal prosperity of the country manifested, that, as late as 1831, when the country was placed in extreme embarrassment from the scarcity of money, he perceived the cause in the fact that the balance of trade was against us to a considerable extent, and he accordingly drew upon the house of Baring Brothers & Co. for bills of exchange to the amount of twelve thousand pounds sterling, which he disposed of to the Bank of the United States at an advance of ten per cent., which draft was followed up by another for ten thousand, which was disposed of in like manner to other institutions. This act tended to reduce the value of bills, and the rate of exchange suddenly fell. The same spirit which he manifested toward the national currency he exhibited to the corporation of Philadelphia, by erecting new blocks of buildings, and beautifying and adorning its streets; less, apparently, from a desire of profit than from a wish to improve the place which was his adopted home, and where he had reaped his fortunes. His subscription of two hundred thousand dollars to the Danville and Pottsville Railroad, in 1831, was an action in keeping with the whole tenor of his life; and his subscription of ten thousand dollars toward the erection of an exchange looked to the same result."
The war of 1812, which brought financial ruin to so many others, simply increased Girard's wealth. He never lost a ship, and as war prices prevailed, his profits were in accordance with them. One of his ships was taken by a British cruiser at the mouth of the Delaware, in the spring of 1813. Fearing that his prize would be recaptured by an American ship of war if he attempted to send her into port, the English admiral dispatched a flag of truce to Mr. Girard, and proposed to him to ransom the vessel for one hundred and eighty thousand dollars in coin. Girard consented, paid the money, and the ship was allowed to come up to the city. Her cargo consisted of silks, nankeens, and teas, and afforded her owner a profit of half a million of dollars.
Yet in the midst of all his wealth, which in 1828 was estimated at ten millions of dollars, he was a solitary old man.
He lived in a dingy little house in Water Street. His wife had died in an insane asylum, and he was childless. He was repulsive in person. He was feared by his subordinates—by all who had dealings with him—and liked by none. He was mean and close in his personal habits, living on less, perhaps, than any of his clerks, and deriving little or no benefit from his vast wealth, so far as his individual comfort was concerned. He gave nothing in charity. Lazarus would have lain at his doors a life-time without being noticed by him. He was solitary, soured, cold, with a heart of stone, and fully conscious of his personal unpopularity. Yet he valued wealth—valued it for the power it gave him over men. Under that cold, hardened exterior reigned an ambition as profound as that which moved Napoleon. He was ambitious of regulating the financial operations of the land, and proud of his power in this respect, and it should be remembered in his favor that he did not abuse that power after it had passed into his hands.
He had no vices, no dissipations; his whole soul was in his business. He was conscious that his only hope of distinction above his fellow-men was in his wealth, and he was resolved that nothing should make him swerve from his endeavor to accumulate a fortune which should make him all powerful in life and remembered in death. He sought no friends, and was reticent as to his career, saying to those who questioned him about it, "Wait till I am dead; my deeds will show what I was."
Religion had no place in his heart. He was an avowed unbeliever, making a boast of his disbelief. He always worked on Sunday, in order that he might show his disapproval of the observance of it as a day of rest. Rest, he said, made a man rusty, and attendance upon the worship of God he denounced as worse than folly. His favorite books were the works of Voltaire, and he named his best ships after the most celebrated French infidels.
Yet this man, so unloved, so undeserving of love, is said to have once had a warm heart. His early troubles and his domestic griefs are said to have soured and estranged him from mankind.
"No one who has had access to his private papers can fail to be impressed with the belief that these early disappointments furnish the key to his entire character. Originally of warm and generous impulses, the belief in childhood that he had not been given his share of the love and kindness which were extended to others, changed the natural current of his feelings, and, acting on a warm and passionate temperament, alienated him from his home, his parents, and his friends. And when in after time there were superadded years of bitter anguish, resulting from his unfortunate and ill-adapted marriage, rendered even more poignant by the necessity of concealment, and the consequent injustice of public sentiment, marring all his cherished expectations, it may