“The public,” said Mr. Vanderbilt. “How do you know, or how can I know that they want it? If they want it why don’t they patronize it and make it pay? That’s the only test I have as to whether a thing is wanted or not. Does it pay? If it doesn’t pay I suppose it isn’t wanted.”
“Are you working,” persisted the reporter, “for the public or for your stockholders?”
“The public be damned!” exclaimed Mr. Vanderbilt, “I am working for my stockholders. If the public want the train why don’t they support it.”
This, I think, was a very proper answer from a business standpoint, and the expression, when placed in its real connection in the interview, does not imply any slur upon the public. It simply intimates that he was urging a thing on the public which it did not want and practically refused. The “cuss” word might have been left out, but the crushing reply to the reporter would not have been so emphatic, and that obtrusive representative of public opinion might have gone away unsquelched. As it was, however, he and his editor exhibited considerable ingenuity in making the best misrepresentation possible out of the words of Mr. Vanderbilt, thus giving them a thousand times wider circulation than the journal in which they were first printed, and affording that paper a big advertisement. This is the correct account of that world-renowned expression, “The public be damned!”
The mausoleum at New Dorp, Staten Island, is another outcome of the genius of Wm. H. Vanderbilt. Mr. Richard M. Hunt was the architect. Pursuant to the instructions of Mr. Vanderbilt, it was built without any fancy work, but at the same time on such a grand and substantial scale that it is said there is nothing among the tombs of either European or Oriental royalty to excel it, in solidity of structure and grandeur of design. It is forty feet in height, sixty in breadth and about 150 in depth. It is situated on an eminence commanding the largest prospect of the bay, and one of the finest views all around in the State of New York. The tomb and the twenty-one acres of land, upon the highest part of which it stands, cost nearly half a million dollars, and when the grounds are finished, in the style intended, beautiful roads and walks made, flower gardens planted with the requisite adornments, the entire expense of the mausoleum and its surroundings will not fall far short of a million dollars.
The precautions taken by the family against resurrectionists is one of the best that has ever been adopted. There is a guard at the tomb night and day. Each of these must put on record his vigilance every fifteen minutes by winding up a clock, which is sent to the office at the Grand Central Depot every morning.
In May, 1883, Mr. Vanderbilt, finding that his railroad duties were too heavy for him, resigned the presidencies of his roads and took a trip to Europe. James H. Rutter was elected President of the Central, and on his death was succeeded by Chauncey M. Depew, the present President, who so ably fills that office. About a year before his death Mr. Vanderbilt gave unmistakable notice of his approaching dissolution when he stopped driving his fast teams, and went out riding with some other person to drive for him. He must have keenly felt his growing weakness when he was obliged to resign the reins which he so fondly desired to hold, and which he had handled with such inimitable skill.
The death of Mr. Vanderbilt was a great surprise, especially to Wall Street, as very few brokers were aware even of his failing health. On the 8th day of December, 1885, he arose early, apparently no worse in health than he had been for a year previous. He went to the studio of J. Q. A. Ward and gave that artist a sitting for the bronze bust ordered by the Trustees of the College of Physicians and Surgeons. Mr. Depew called upon him at one o’clock, but finding that Mr. Robert Garrett, President of the Baltimore & Ohio Railroad Company, had also called to see Mr. Vanderbilt, Mr. Depew waived his opportunity in favor of Mr. Garrett. Mr. Garrett was conversing on his project of getting into New York by way of Staten Island and a bridge over the Arthur Kill. They were in the study. Mr. Vanderbilt sat in his large arm chair and Mr. Garrett sat on a sofa opposite to him. It seems that Mr. Vanderbilt was in perfect harmony with the plans of Mr. Garrett. While he was replying to the remarks of Mr. Garrett the latter observed that his voice began to falter and there was a curious twitching of the muscles about his mouth. Soon he ceased to speak and had a spasm. In a moment he leaned forward and would have fallen on his face on the floor, but Mr. Garrett caught him in his arms, laid him gently on the rug and put a pillow under his head. This was only the work of a few moments, but before it was accomplished the greatest millionaire in America had ceased to breathe. When Dr. McLean, the family physician, arrived he said a blood vessel had burst in the head, and so death, according to the frequently expressed wish of Mr. Vanderbilt, was instantaneous.
On the announcement of Mr. Vanderbilt’s death, (which was after Board hours), a panic was predicted in the stock market. A pool was formed of the most wealthy leading operators, with a capital of $12,000,000, to resist such a calamity. It was not required, however. There was a reaction of a few points in the morning following, which was recovered before the close of the market. The stocks of Mr. Vanderbilt’s properties, as well as the properties themselves, had been so well distributed that such a disaster could hardly have occurred without a strong outside combination to help it, and the prevalent desire there was to assist speculation in the very opposite direction. The remains of Mr. Vanderbilt were conveyed to New Dorp and deposited in the tomb without any ostentation.
In the chapter on the young Vanderbilts a brief account of the disposition of the mammoth fortune of $200,000,000 is given.