Part 10

A group of New York men made a contract to deliver three shiploads of coal at Bordeaux at a certain price. After they had signed the contract, freight rates from Baltimore to the French port almost doubled. This was the first of their troubles. When their vessel finally reached Bordeaux, the dock was so crowded with ships unloading war munitions that they could not get pier space. In France demurrage begins the moment a ship stops outside of port. The net result was that these vessels were held up for nearly two weeks and the high price of transportation coupled with the very large demurrage practically wiped out all the profits.

Another group of Americans made a contract to deliver coal to a French railway "subject to call." Without taking the trouble to inquire just what "subject to call" meant in France, they signed and sealed the bargain. Then they discovered that the railroad wanted the coal delivered in irregular instalments. Meanwhile the consignors had to store the coal in French yards where space to-day is almost as valuable as a corner lot on Broadway. They were glad to pay a cash bonus and escape with their skin.

Still another group made a contract with the Paris Gas Company for a large quantity of coal. They discovered later that the company expected the coal to be delivered to their bins in Paris.

"But the American plan is to sell coal f.o.b. Norfolk," said the spokesman.

"We are sorry," replied the Frenchmen, "but the coal must be delivered to us in Paris. The English have been doing it for forty years, and if you expect to do business with us you must do likewise."

When the Americans demurred the company held them to their contract.

This last episode shows one of the great defects in the American system of doing business abroad. We insist upon the f.o.b. arrangement, that is, the price at the American point of shipment. The foreigner, and especially the Frenchman, wants a c.i.f. price which includes cost, insurance and freight and which puts the article down at his door. The German and English shippers, and particularly the former, have made this kind of shipment part of their export creed, and it is one reason why they have succeeded so wonderfully in the foreign field.

The Great American Coal Deluge also precipitated a flood of miserable titled ladies all selling coal for "well known American companies." Most of them were clever American women, married, or thinking they were married, to Italian or French noblemen. Their chief effort was to get a cash advance payment to bind the contract. Such details as price, transportation, credit, and other essentials were unimportant.

Here is a little story which shows how these women did business and undid American good will.

One day last August, the telephone rang in the office of the General Manager of a long established American concern in Paris. A woman was at the other end.

"Is this Mr. Blank?"

"Yes."

"I am Countess A. and I have a letter of introduction for you."

"Yes."

"I represent several large American coal companies and have secured a large order for Italy."

"Yes."

"Can you tell me how I can get the coal to Italy?"

"Yes."

"Splendid! But how?"

"By boats."

"Oh, yes, I know, but have you got the boats and can I get them? I have the order, you see, and that is the main thing."

"But, madam," asked the man, "have you cabled your company in America about the contract?"

"No," answered the woman. "What's the use of doing that. I have no money to spend on cables. Besides, I have full power to act. The price is all right and the buyers are ready to sign but they want to put into the agreement some silly business about delivery and I am asking you to help me get the boats."

"Come and see me," said the Manager.

The woman promised to call the next morning, but she never came. Just what she had in mind the Manager could never quite tell. But one thing was proved in this and similar activities: The "Countess" and most of her sisters who have been trying to put over coal and other contracts in Paris, have little or no real authorisation for their performances, and the principal result has been to prejudice French and Italian buyers against us.

In seeking to make French contracts, some of these adventurers (and they include both sexes) make the most extravagant claims. One group circulated a really startling prospectus. At the top was the imposing name of the corporation with a long list of branches in every part of the world. Then followed a list of names of individuals and firms with their assets supposed to be part and parcel of the corporation. One man whose name I had never heard before and who was set down as a Pittsburgher, was accredited with assets of $250,000,000. Under other individual and firm resources ranged from one to twenty-five million. The list included the name of a great American retail merchant, without his consent I might add, but the promoters had cunningly misspelled his name, which kept them within the pale of the law. The total assets of these "concerns personally responsible for all orders entrusted" was precisely $340,000,000. In spite of this dazzling array of misinformation, let it be said to the credit of the French buyer that he failed to fall for the glittering bait.

The more you go into the reasons why so many of our business men have failed in France, the more you find out that plain everyday business organisation seems to be conspicuously absent. Take, for example, the question of credit. The average American doing business in France proceeds in the assumption that every Frenchman is dishonest. This being his theory, he either exacts cash in advance or sells "cash against documents." Such a procedure galls the Frenchman who is accustomed to long credit from English, German, Swiss and Spanish manufacturers and merchants.

Of course, behind all these American errors in judgment and tact is a lack of organised credit information. To illustrate: