In spite of this prohibition, George H. and Samuel J. Tilden, sons of Henry A. Tilden, and nephews of the testator, contested the validity of the instrument, not on the ground of incapacity or undue influence, but upon construction.
Henry L. Clinton and Aaron Vanderpoel were the lawyers for the contestants.
It is curious that the will of a man so deeply learned in the law as Mr. Tilden was, should be questioned as to whether it was a legal document or not. But such was the ground of the contest. The point was this: The residuary clause empowers the trustees to apply to the Legislature for an act to incorporate a body to be called the Tilden Trust. This body, when incorporated, was to become the legatee. This method of procedure, according to the opinion of learned counsel in the law, bequeathed to the trustee under the will the power to name the public legatee of the testator. It seems that a testator has no power to do this, according to the recent decisions of the Courts of last resort in this country, which, it would seem, Mr. Tilden had not read. Nobody but the testator himself has power to name the legatee. It appears he had the decision of the English Court in his mind, which allows of this method of bequeathing property. Following is the residuary clause in full, bearing upon this point: “I request my said executors and trustees to obtain, as speedily as possible, from the Legislature an act of incorporation of an institution to be known as the Tilden Trust, with capacity to establish and maintain a free library and reading-room in the city of New York, and to promote such scientific and educational objects as my said executors and trustees may more particularly designate. Such corporation shall have not less than five trustees, with power to fill vacancies in their number, and in case said institution shall be incorporated in a form and manner satisfactory to my said executors and trustees during the lifetime of the survivor of the two lives in being, upon which the trust of my general estate herein created is limited, to wit, the lives of Ruby S. Tilden and Susie Whittlesey, I hereby authorize my said executors and trustees to organize the said corporation, designate the first trustees thereof, and to convey to or apply to the use of the same the rest, residue and remainder of all my real and personal estate not specifically disposed of by this instrument, or so much thereof as they may deem expedient, but subject, nevertheless, to the special trusts herein directed to be constituted for particular persons, and to the obligations to make and keep good the said special trusts, provided that the said corporation shall be authorized by law to assume such obligation. But in case such institution shall not be so incorporated during the lifetime of the survivors of the said Ruby S. Tilden and Susie Whittlesey, or if for any cause or reason my said executors shall deem it expedient to convey said rest, residue and remainder, or any part thereof, or to apply the same, or any part thereof, to the said institution, I authorize my said executors and trustees to apply the rest, residue and remainder of my properly, real and personal, after making good the said special trusts herein directed to be constituted, or such portion thereof as they may not deem it expedient to apply to its use to such charitable, educational and scientific purposes, as in the judgment of my said executors and trustees will render the said rest, residue and remainder of my property most widely and substantially beneficial to the interests of mankind.”
C Van Derbilt
CHAPTER XXXIV.
COMMODORE VANDERBILT.
—HOW HIS MAMMOTH FORTUNE WAS ACCUMULATED.
Ferryman.—Steamboat Owner.—Runs a Great Commercial Fleet.—The First and Greatest of Railroad Kings.—The Harlem “Corner.”—Reorganization of N. Y. Central.—How He Milked His Co-speculators.—His Fortune.—Its Vast Increase by WM. H.
The most conspicuous man connected with Wall Street in my early days of speculation was “Commodore” Vanderbilt. Without going minutely into the early exploits of the man, it will be sufficient, for the purposes of this narrative, that I trace his start in life in connection with a row-boat of which he was Captain, plying between Staten Island, Governor’s Island, and New York, in which he himself did the rowing. This enterprise, in course of time, grew into one with boats propelled by steam, instead of manual labor. During his progress as ferryman he became proprietor of a hotel at New Brunswick, New Jersey. This side issue did not prove very lucrative, perhaps, because the Commodore, with all his versatile ability, did not possess the special talents required to keep a hotel. The hotel still exists, and is situated near the railroad station, and is now, as it was then, merely a railroad tavern. The first vivid recollection of the Commodore in Wall Street “dickering” was in connection with the Nicaragua Transit Company, the capital of which was over $4,000,000. He became President of the Company, and soon afterward the head and front of the whole enterprise. The Directors and stockholders, and in fact every one else connected with the Company, were soon crushed into nonentities. When their complete subjection was obtained, the Commodore loomed up into gigantic dimensions, and, as he expanded, the Nicaragua Company became small by degrees and beautifully less in inverse proportion. Eventually the greatly depressed stockholders, like the worm when trodden under foot, turned and showed resentment. The case came into Court and was the subject of ordinary investigation, but I never heard of the Company recovering anything. I presume their claims were relegated to the profit and loss account in perpetuity.
After this, the Commodore started a line of steamers in opposition to the fleet of Pacific Mail, and kept his boats running until he was bought off. About this time an event happened which has preserved for posterity a good story, highly characteristic of the Commodore. His son-in-law, James M. Cross, had conceived the idea of embarking in the wholesale leather business in the “Swamp.” He had been talked into it by an experienced man who was to be his partner. A store was secured, and everything put under way for the start, with the exception of the capital, which Mr. Cross had agreed to contribute against the experience of his partner. The amount was to be $50,000. Mr. Cross, knowing that the Commodore had at this time become rich and prosperous, felt satisfied that it was only necessary to make application to his enterprising father-in-law for the amount required. Thereupon, with the confidence begotten of implicit trust, he approached the Commodore for this temporary accommodation, giving him a full description of the nature of the business. After listening attentively to the statement of his esteemed son-in-law, the Commodore said in reply: “Now, James, if I let you have this $50,000 to put in the leather business, how much do you think you will be able to make for your share out of the profits?” Mr. Cross thought the best position to take with a rigid business man like his father-in-law was to be prudently conservative in his expectations, and to keep all his Colonel Seller prospects in the background. After a few moments reflection he replied: “I believe I am almost certain to make $5,000 a year.” The Commodore promptly responded: “James, as I can do better than that myself in handling $50,000, I will give you $5,000 a year hereafter, and you may consider yourself in my employ at that salary.” There was no way for James to wriggle out of it, and he accepted the situation with apparent good grace, whatever his internal emotions may have been at the time. The Commodore forthwith dispatched Mr. Cross to San Francisco to manage his steamboat business there. He soon discovered, however, that James was hardly aggressive enough for the go-ahead fellows on the gold coast, and he was recalled. After looking around some time for a man possessing the necessary requirements to be placed in successful competition with the adventurous spirits of the Pacific Slope, his search was rewarded by an introduction to Commodore C. K. Garrison, then in command of a Mississippi steamboat. Garrison had established his reputation for being the best euchre player on the river, and for much besides which that term implies. He was brave and fearless—in fact, in some respects, a Jim Bludso of real life, with the self-sacrificing qualities of that hero largely discounted, or perhaps entirely left out. It required men of mettle in those days to run a steamboat on the Father of Waters, when the greater portion of the passengers belonged to the gambling fraternity, and were all experts with the bowie knife and the ready revolver.