Scholars have recommended taking a closer look at firms that raise funds from the financial system as a way of understanding the relation between finance and growth. This article explores the role of the U.S. financial system in providing funds to two prominent American firms, General Electric and Westinghouse Electric, over the course of the last century. The financial system's support was important for both companies, but there were important differences, as well as changes over time, in their patterns of financial dependence and autonomy. Two factors—investments in working capital and dividend policies-are important for explaining the financing patterns of both firms, suggesting clear hypotheses about the determinants of demand for corporate finance that can be tested in further financial histories. The findings also highlight the importance of looking at working, as well as fixed, capital in studies of enterprises' relations with the financial system, and of examining the money that flows out of companies as well as the funds that flow into them.

John Herbert Orr (1911-84) was an Alabama entrepreneur who formed Orradio Industries, Inc., a pioneering hightechnology firm that made magnetic recording tape. In 1945, Orr was among the U.S. Army Intelligence officials who investigated this technology, which was originally developed in Germany during the 1930s. Orr's early knowledge allowed him to establish Orradio in 1949 on a shoestring budget and to make it competitive with larger firms. When, after some uncertainty, tape became the standard medium for magnetic recorders, and as other uses such as data storage and videotape appeared, Orradio's sales expanded rapidly in the late 1950s. The company was purchased by a larger competitor, the Ampex Corporation, in 1959. The history of Orradio illustrates some of the technological, organizational, and locational problems associated with the establishment of a small high-technology firm in a new industry.

Unlike the majority of Spanish multinationals, which have developed only recently, firms in the publishing industry became international in the early twentieth century and have managed to hold on to much of their business, despite the instability of their own institutional systems and those of their principal host economies. Today, the Spanish publishing industry ranks fourth in the world, and its foreign markets continue to grow in North America, Europe, Latin America, and, most critically, in Mexico. The internationalization of Spanish publishing firms was fueled initially by a search for new markets and by linguistic and cultural advantages. With the passage of time, the process came to be built on accumulated knowledge and on the personal and social networks created by Spanish publishers, both inside and outside Spain.

Before 1914, London had a stock exchange that was larger and qualitatively more developed than New York's. Yet the London Stock Exchange has received a bad press from historians, while the New York Exchange has achieved star billing. This forensic reexamination of J. P. Morgan–a player in both markets–suggests that such a historiography is egregiously biased. Morgan's higher profi ts in New York derived partly from insider deals and partly from monopolistic exactions that U.S. protectionism facilitated but that proved more problematic in the U.K.'s open, competitive markets. Morgan's contributions to the impressive catch-up process by the New York Exchange are more plausibly viewed as successful emulation of European securities-market precedents on routine matters than of the allegedly path-breaking “information-signaling” innovations of more Panglossian accounts.

Although corporate pyramids are currently commonplace world-wide and although there have been “noteworthy pyramiders” in American business history, this controversial form of corporate organization is now a rarity in the United States. The conventional wisdom is that corporate pyramids disappeared in the U.S. when New Deal policymakers began taxing dividends paid to corporate shareholders. This version of events is more fable than truth. The introduction of the intercorporate dividend tax did not foster a rapid dismantling of corporate pyramids. Instead, pyramidal arrangements were already rare in the U.S., other than in the utilities sector, and the demise of utility pyramids was prompted by the Public Util- ities Holding Company Act of 1935 rather than by tax reform.

The record industry in the United States was controlled until the 1950s by a half dozen major companies, which produced music directed primarily toward the white middle class. The following article uses the history of Ace Records, a small, regional, independent company, to examine the nature of the record industry in the 1950s and 1960s. The article explains the shifts in demography and technology that made possible the growth of the independents, as well as the obstacles and events that made their demise more likely. It also traces the changes that such companies, by recording and promoting rhythm and blues and early rock ‘n’ roll, introduced to the cultural mainstream.

Developmental investment abroad was an integral part of the industrialized nations' foreign policies in the decades before World War I. A notable case was the German Empire's investment in the Anatolian Railway. Inspired by the astounding success of North American railroad development in settling vast untilled areas and creating great quantities of cheap food grains, the Germans built a railroad into the thinly populated central plain of Turkey. But the hoped-for revolution was limited by social and political factors that overrode the purely economic, as Professor Quataert demonstrates in a study with broad implications for present-day development programs in third-world countries.

This article examines the relationship between patents, appropriability strategies, and market for technology in the English brewing industry before 1850. Previous research has pointed to the apparent paradox that large-scale brewing in this period showed both a self-aware culture of rapid technological innovation and a remarkably low propensity to patent. Our study records how brewery innovators pursued a wide variety of highly distinct appropriability strategies, including secrecy, selective revealing, open innovation and knowledge-sharing for reputational reasons, and patenting. All these strategies could co-exist, although some brewery insiders maintained a suspicion of the promoters of patent technologies, which faded only in the nineteenth century. Furthermore, we find evidence that sophisticated strategies of selective revealing could support trade in inventions even without the use of the patent system.

Transportation is one of the service industries in which women are now active participants in both mature and developing economies. Traditionally dominated by male entrepreneurs and workers, transportation in westernized nations has had to accommodate the demands of women with the passage of legislation imposing conditions of equality. The global search for cheap labor is another factor that has propelled women into the fields of international and local travel, tourism, and transportation. Although businesses in recent years have placed a premium on human mobility, rapid movement of goods, and instant communication, there has been little historical research that connects the past with these developments, nor has there been a concerted effort to under-stand the impact of gender on the shifts in direction.

This article describes and explains three patterns in the entry of Indian entrepreneurs in large-scale industries in South Asia, 1850–1947. It begins with Marwari businessmen in the jute industry in Calcutta. Then I discuss the success of the Parsi community in the Bombay cotton industries, and, finally, Gujarati (mainly Hindu) industrialists in Ahmedabad. I focus on three variables that might explain the timing, degree, and social and cultural variations in the emergence of indigenous industrialists in these cities. These variables concern: first, the colonial attitude towards indigenous industrialists in this field; second, whether or not these men belonged to a (religious) middleman minority; and, finally, their social and, in particular, occupational background.

Early textile enterprises faced no trends with greater reluctance than the integration of operations within a single factory and, considerably later, the assignment of formerly family-dominated, entrepreneurial functions to hired factory agents. Samuel Slater, the classic pioneer of factory production of textile yarns, was slow to accept these trends, and only the obvious inability of either him or his family to cope with a rapidly growing and changing industry in the 1820s and 1830s forced him to integrate spinning, weaving, and finishing operations and to turn over broad responsiblity in individual factories to what is perhaps the earliest example of the professional manager.

Although much has been written about the British opium trade, American traffic in the drug has received little attention. Professor Downs' article reveals that American merchants played a significant innovating role in developing new sources of supply and expanding the market. These activities forced the monopolistic British East India Company to protect its opium trade to China and led to the Opium War in 1839, when the Chinese government attempted to stop importation of the narcotic.

Alfred D. Chandler, Jr., observed that under managerial capitalism, salaried managers tended to pursue policies that promoted the long-term stability and growth of their enterprises. The U.S. cable television industry provides a case study of how managers responded when stability and growth were mutually consistent objectives, and when they were mutually exclusive. From the late 1950s through the early 1980s, agent-led newspaper publishers and television broadcasters invested aggressively in the cable business. Beginning in the mid-1980s, however, investing in cable implied a tradeoff between stability and growth objectives. As a wave of mergers swept the cable industry, agent-led companies avoided acquisitions that might dilute earnings and depress stock prices. Confronting an increasingly turbulent competitive environment during the first half of the 1990s, agent-led companies were much more likely to divest cable assets than owner-managed firms. In agent-led companies, managers believed that their cable units would require massive capital investments, and they were reluctant to “bet the company” on a business facing so much competitive, technological, and regulatory uncertainty. Owner-managers, emotionally attached to the cable industry and to the firms they had built, and often harboring dynastic ambitions, were more reluctant to sell: they were willing to gamble on growth.

The economics of slavery in the United States has long been a subject of great interest to historians, but the use of bondsmen in southern industries has been little studied. Professor Starobin not only provides new information on industrial slavery, but also offers important conclusions concerning the profitability, efficiency, and viability of this “peculiar institution.”

The micro-scale businesses of independent craft producers have received little attention from historians. This article examines the links between the financing and use of capital by these businesses, and the ambiguous social position of the petit bourgeois business owners. A quantitative examination of the relative importance of the various sources of finance for these firms is assessed in the context of the generally accepted picture of financing for British industry, revealing differences in the pattern of funding for micro-scale enterprises. The ambiguous social relationships between the micro-scale business owners and the larger bourgeoisie, and with the working class, are partly explained by the underlying economic relationships. In particular the supply of trade credit by larger firms, and the use of credit and infrequent wage payments in their relationships with the working class, are identified as important elements.

Tradtional Japanese disdain for business was overcome by making industrialization synonymous with the esteemed value of public service in the face of foreign economic competition. The alien corporate form of organization was made palatable by characterizing it as a family group which attracted traditional loyalties. Professor Hirschmeier attributes Japan's rapid industrialization at the turn of the century and her remarkable recovery after World War II to such pragmatic social compromises and uses them to identify and explain a uniquely Japanese “spirit of enterprise.”

In this article. Professor Baum reports on recent research into the annuity markets of late medieval German Hanse towns. While historians traditionally have considered annuities an essentially noncommercial form of credit, Baum takes a different approach. Considering the annuity market as an economic institution, he describes its function as an instrument of credit and offers some speculations about how his conclusions modify our traditional view of the late medieval economy.

Herbert Hoover's seven years as Secretary of Commerce raised that department to a level of prestige and influence it has not known since. In the prosperity of the 1920s, real wages rose rapidly, the wage-earners' standard of living began to resemble that of white-collar groups, and all that remained, it seemed, was to replace the traditional antagonism between employer and worker with a system that would give the latter a voice in plant decisions. In this climate, “welfare capitalism” and company unions, encouraged by Hoover's department, flourished for a time. Professor Zieger shows that Hoover never realized that the wage-earner could have no effective representation through company-sponsored schemes. By the late 1920s, some academic experts posited the virtual demise of the labor movement unless it found a means of transcending the limitations that the circumstances of the New Era and its own weaknesses imposed.

The Larkin Company of Buffalo, New York, was established in the 1870s as a small soap producer and grew to become a large mail-order house. Larkin's success could be attributed to a unique sales strategy created by Elbert Hubbard, called “The Larkin Idea,” which had as its motto, “From Factory-to-Family: Save All Cost Which Adds No Value.” The company sold its products exclusively through the mail to women in cooperative buying clubs. Employing a variety of marketing, advertising, and employee welfare practices, the Larkin Company built a unified corporate family of “Larkinites“—employees, customers, and executives. Larkin executives also hired architect Frank Lloyd Wright to construct a modern office complex, which became the physical representation of Larkin's culture. But changes in marketing, the departure and deaths of key executives, a seemingly anachronistic corporate culture, and poor business decisions combined to undermine the company in the mid-1920s, and by 1940 the company was virtually dead.

The essay examines the role of Christianity in premodern European capitalism, with regard to the city of Florence. It traces the formation of the historical construct and the influence of Werner Sombart's Der moderne Kapitalismus, a work much neglected nowadays in the Anglophone academy. The article seeks to historicize and contextualize faith and economy, to stress their fundamentally intertwined nature and more specifically how notions of “negotiation” and diriturra (moral Christian rectitude) connect the seemingly antagonistic sides, and connect also Florentine finance and business history, which are too often studied independently. It argues that Christian rectitude and service to the church (a noncynical quid pro quo) were conjoined with a calculated, reasoned profit motive--evident especially among papal bankers, a key sector of the Florentine economy.