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their monopoly. So, when Gibbons started in, Ogden had him arrested. Then Dan Webster, Gibbons's counsel, made that famous speech of his before the Supreme Court, which broke up the monopoly and opened the tide waters of all the states to free navigation. When Gibbons found himself free to run boats, he went ahead with lots of push. He got a young man by the name of Cornelius Vanderbilt, who had been running a sailing sloop between New York and Staten Island, to be captain of his boat, the Bellona. This ran from New York to Elizabethtown, where it shipped its passengers to the stage-coach, which carried them on to Philadelphia and the South.

Vanderbilt did so well there that he became superintendent of the line, and used to go up to Bottle Hill to report to the owner concerning the boat. Gibbons by and by sold the boat to the Stevens Brothers, of Hoboken. Then young Cornelius Vanderbilt took up navigation on the Hudson. He started a small boat called the General Jackson, to run between New York and Peekskill, and put his brother Jake on as captain.

Those early steamboats were funny things, compared with the great boats which are seen to-day, such as the Drew, and the Dean Richmond. Back in the early days they didn't have any pilothouse. The steersman was nothing more than the old sloop steersman; only, instead of working a

tiller at the stern, he was placed up on top of the cabin, with a tiller wheel connecting to the rudder by a rope, and was exposed to the wind and weather. His station was directly over the engine. He signalled to the engineer by tapping with a cane on the roof. One tap meant, "Go ahead"; two taps, "Back up."

Well, as I started to say, the General Jackson one day blew up. That line between Peekskill and New York had interested me more or less, anyhow, because it had become the great way of getting back and forth between the city and my old home in Putnam County. But I hadn't thought of going into the business myself. I counted on buying and selling cattle all my life. But one day, soon after Jake Vanderbilt's boat, the General Jackson, blew up, a friend of mine came and told me about a new steamboat, the Water Witch, which he was planning to run as a competitor with the Vanderbilt Brothers on the Peekskill route.

He talked me into investing a thousand dollars in the boat. I had some money lying around loose. My cattle trips, together with what. money I made from running the "Bull's Head," had been bringing me in good profits. I was glad to make a small investment in the steamboat business, even though it looked somewhat risky.

And it was risky. The thing turned out a loss the very first season. As soon as we put our boat

on, Captain Cornelius Vanderbilt, who was a spunky fellow, built another boat for the Peekskill route, which he called the Cinderella. We ran each other hard. The result was that my boat lost that season $10,000.

Cornelius met me one day on the wharf, just at the time when our boat was running behind like old Sambo. He was in high spirits. "You'll meddle with my business, will you?" said he, in a joking way. "See here, you drover, let me tell you something. You don't know anything about running boats. You know a good deal about judging cattle. That's your line. Boats is my line. Water transportation is a trade all by itself. You don't understand it. Stick to your steers, Drew, stick to your steers."

That got my dander up. I got in with a man named Jim Smith. We two went up into Putnam and Westchester Counties and stirred things up good and lively. We told the people up there that they had been charged too much by Vanderbilt. We asked them to come in and put money into our line, because we were an independent company trying to take the side of the people against the monopoly which had been oppressing them. They flocked into our pen, because this Peekskill route was their main means of communication with New York City. It stood them in hand to build up a competing line. Now we were in shape for business. We had

money working capital. We began to slash the rates. We showed the Cinderella what business enterprise was. We kept at it until the fare was a shilling twelve and a half cents a head-from Peekskill to the city. More than that, we showed the other boat that we were able to keep that game up just as long as they wanted it.

When I met Captain Cornelius the next time, I served him with his own sauce. I said: "Hello, Captain; do you think now that I know anything

about the steamboat business?"

"Drew," said he Cornelius was a frank man to own up when he had made a mistake or had misjudged anybody, "I don't think anything about it. I know you do." Cornelius was very nice to me after that, even sociable-like. He used to come around and call on me. We got to be good friends.

In fact, we got so friendly that Smith and I sold out our boat to Vanderbilt and let him have control of the Peekskill route once more. We did this without letting the other fellows in our company know. We were afraid they might put some obstacle in the way if they knew it beforehand. As a matter of fact, when they heard of it they were as mad as a wet hen. 'Because, Drew," said they, "we went in with you and Smith to break up the monopoly and in order to get decent transportation for our region. And now, after putting our hard cash into the thing and providing capital enough to bring the other

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side to their knees, you skunks up and sell us out

you make terms with the enemy behind our backs, and we lose what we put in."

But I had other irons on the anvil. I didn't feel called upon to keep myself back, just in order to provide better transportation for Putnam County farmers. I had my own fortune to make

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and my own career to carve out. Any fellow, except he's a natural-born fool, will look out for number one first. There were bigger prizes to be got in the Hudson River steamboat business than the Peekskill route. It was these that I was after. The Hudson River Association was running a line of boats from New York to Albany. Captain Vanderbilt had had a falling out with one of the directors of that association, and had put two rival boats on that route so successfully that he had compelled them to buy him out; he agreeing to withdraw from the boat business on that route for ten years. This left the coast clear. If Vanderbilt, by running competition boats, could scare them into buying him out at a good figure, I didn't see why I couldn't do the same. So I bought two boats, put them on the line to Albany, and ran them in competition with the River Association. This lasted for a year. At the end of that time it turned out as I had expected. The Association took me in with them on a pooling arrangement, my boats sharing the total earnings of the partnership.

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