THE ALDERMEN OUTWITTED BY VANDERBILT.

But the aldermen were by no means unschooled in the current sharp practices of commercialism. A strong cabal of them hatched up a scheme by which they would take Vanderbilt's bribe money, and then ambush him for still greater spoils. They knew that even if they gave him the franchise, its validity would not stand the test of the courts. The Legislature claimed the exclusive power of granting franchises; astute lawyers assured them that this claim would be upheld. Their plan was to grant a franchise for the Broadway line to the New York and Harlem Railroad. This would at once send up the price of the stock. The Legislature, it was certain, would give a franchise for the same surface line to Law. When the courts decided against the Common Council that body, in a spirit of showy deference, would promptly pass an ordinance repealing the franchise. In the meantime, the aldermen and their political and Wall Street confederates would contract to "sell short" large quantities of New York and Harlem stock.

The method was simple. When that railroad stock was selling at $100 a share upon the strength of getting the Broadway franchise, the aldermen would find many persons willing to contract for its delivery in a month at a price, say, of $90 a share. By either the repealing of the franchise ordinance or affected by adverse court decisions, the stock inevitably would sink to a much lower price. At this low price the aldermen and their confederates would buy the stock and then deliver it, compelling the contracting parties to pay the agreed price of $90 a share. The difference between the stipulated price of delivery and the value to which the stock had fallen—$30, $40 or $50 a share—would represent the winnings.

Part of this plan worked out admirably. The Legislature passed an act giving Law the franchise. Vanderbilt countered by getting Tweed, the all-powerful political ruler of New York City and New York State, to order his tool, Governor Seymour, to veto the measure. As was anticipated by the aldermen, the courts pronounced that the Common Council had no power to grant franchises. Vanderbilt's franchise was, therefore, annulled. So far, there was no hitch in the plot to pluck Vanderbilt.

But an unlooked for obstacle was encountered. Vanderbilt had somehow got wind of the affair, and with instant energy bought up secretly all of the New York and Harlem Railroad stock he could. He had masses of ready money to do it with; the millions from the mail subsidy frauds and from his other lootings of the public treasury proved an unfailing source of supply. Presently, he had enough of the stock to corner his antagonists badly. He then put his own price upon it, eventually pushing it up to $170 a share. To get the stock that they contracted to deliver, the combination of politicians and Wall Street bankers and brokers had to buy it from him at his own price; there was no outstanding stock elsewhere. The old man was pitiless; he mulcted them $179 a share. In his version, Croffut says of Vanderbilt: "He and his partners in the bull movement took a million dollars from the Common Council that week and other millions from others." [Footnote: "The Vanderbilts," etc: 75.]

The New York and Harlem Railroad was now his, as absolutely almost as the very clothes he wore. Little it mattered that he did not hold all of the stock; he owned a preponderance enough to rule the railroad as despotically as he pleased. Not a foot it had he surveyed or constructed; this task had been done by the mental and manual labor of thousands of wage workers not one of whom now owned the vestige of an interest in it. For their toil these wage workers had nothing to show but poverty. But Vanderbilt had swept in a railroad system by merely using in cunning and unscrupulous ways a few of the millions he had defrauded from the national treasury.