This book is a masterpiece of dedicated research somewhat muddied by excessive detail and a confusing structure.
I will say that I doubt anyone can talk about the causes of the Great Depression, or the bank crises of 1932, without consulting this book. By digging through state and federal bank examiner reports, regulatory correspondence, and legal and bankruptcy filings, Vickers summons a story of almost unparalleled greed and skulduggery, hitherto unknown among historians.
His greatest revelations are that, far from a profitable concern sabotaged by Wall Street investors, Samuel Insull's matryoshka doll electric utility holding companies were tottering on the brink of collapse for years, maintained only by Insull's fraudulent financial trades and the illegal inflation of their assets. The book also explains one reason he created so many different companies, to get around state and national laws limiting bank loans to one customer. His scheme to maintain control of his empire was abetted by a host of Chicago downtown or "Loop," banks who made poorly backed loans to his companies and claimed they were good as gold. The banks' regulators often had loans or stock from these same banks and were thus understandably lenient. Some of the most prominent men of the era, such as Owen Young (GE's president, international diplomat, and presidential hopeful), and Charles Dawes (former Vice President under Coolidge, then head of the federal government-created Reconstruction Finance Corporation (RFC), and head of the Central Republic Trust bank), assisted in this fraud and their bank customers suffered for it. Vickers also shows that Dawes, Young, and Jesse Jones (soon to be head of the RFC for over a decade under FDR) relied on their intimate connections with the RFC, friendly federal bankruptcy judges, and bought-off politicians to salvage their fortunes and acquire cheap government loans, all while investors in their worthless paper and the public suffered. Vickers uses this story to make a case for regulatory transparency.
It's a harrowing and convincing tale, yet there are qualifications. A mass of irrelevant detail and side stories, all with their own series of detailed banking reports and numbers, make much of the book unnecessarily tedious. The author's habit of repeating every other dollar figure in "today's dollars" further confuses and overwhelms the reader. Also, there is perhaps too much of an attempt to re-litigate the old charges against these magnates, hammering home their culpability rather than letting the facts speak for themselves. Finally, despite the title the book has little to do with the actual banking "panic" of June 1932 in the city. The dozens of small banks that were actually closed, as opposed to those big ones that were saved, are discussed only in passing, and even the accusations that the big ones were brought down solely by insider dealing and the Insull and Dawes loans aren't corroborated fully with facts.
Despite these caveats, this book deserves to be read. The author quotes Senator Harry Byrd, who said that "you cannot measure a snake until its dead," and here, thanks to Vickers, with the archives opened up and the story available for all, almost 80 years after the events, we can finally understand how a group of self-dealing millionaires helped fleece the country.