opened the Girard Bank, with a
capital of $1,200,000, which he increased the following year by $100,000
more.[62]

A DICTATOR OF FINANCE.

His wealth was now overshadowingly great; his power immense. He was a
veritable dictator of the realms of finance; an assiduous, repellent
little man, with his devil's eye, who rode roughshod over every obstacle
in his path. His every movement bred fear; his veriest word could bring
ruin to any one who dared cross his purposes. The war of 1812 brought
disaster to many a merchant, but Girard harvested fortune from the
depths of misfortune. "He was, it must be said," says Houghton, "hard
and illiberal in his bargains, and remorseless in exacting the last cent
due him." And after he opened the Girard Bank: "Finding that the
salaries which had been paid by the government were higher than those
paid elsewhere, he cut them down to the rate given by the other banks.
The watchman had always received from the old bank the gift of an
overcoat at Christmas, but Girard put a stop to this. He gave no
gratuities to any of his employees, but confined them to the
compensation for which they had bargained; yet he contrived to get out
of them service more devoted than was received by other men who paid
higher wages and made presents. Appeals to him for aid were unanswered.
No poor man ever came full-handed from his presence. He turned a deaf
ear to the entreaties of failing merchants to help them on their feet
again. He was neither generous nor charitable. When his faithful cashier
died, after long years spent in his service, he manifested the most
hardened indifference to the bereavement of the family of that
gentleman, and left them to struggle along as best they could."

Further, Houghton unconsciously proceeds to bring out several incidents
which show the exorbitant profits Girard made from his various business
activities. In the spring of 1813, one of his ships was captured by a
British cruiser at the mouth of the Delaware. Fearing that his prize
would be recaptured by an American war ship if he sent her into port,
the English Admiral notified Girard that he would ransom the ship for
$180,000 in coin. Girard paid the money; and, even after paying that
sum, the cargo of silks, nankeens and teas yielded him a profit of half
a million dollars. His very acts of apparent public spirit were means by
which he scooped in large profits. Several times, when the rate of
exchange was so high as to be i