Of course he drew on Leupp for the money. This made Gould a partner of Leupp with full powers. He continued with Leupp the policy he had begun with Pratt. He branched out in many speculations in Leupp’s name, but without his knowledge. It is said that he bought another tannery, attempted to get up a “corner” in hides, and in other ways entered into many hazardous enterprises. He continued to draw on Leupp for money and to display his incapacity as a bookkeeper until Leupp became suspicious, just as Pratt had. Meanwhile the panic of 1857 had swept over the country and unsettled all business operations, and when Leupp discovered the extent in which he had been involved in Gould’s speculations he thought that he was ruined. He went to his magnificent home one night and, in a fit of despondency, shot himself dead. It is not certain but that Gould’s schemes would have turned out all right, and to Leupp’s, as well as to Gould’s advantage, but it is a fact that Leupp’s partners and heirs have always felt very bitter against Gould, and could not help believing that he was indirectly the cause of Leupp’s sad and untimely end.
Mr. Leupp’s old-fashioned notions had been terribly shocked, for Gould had gone into corners in hides and other tanneries which might and might not have turned out well. When he found that his partner had bought not only all the hides then in the market but all that were to arrive in the ensuing six months, he literally lost his reason, and his suicide occurred after a stormy interview with Gould, who remained imperturbably cool and simply turned on his heel and left the office.
It is related that in the excitement and passion of Black Friday when a mob surged through Wall street, a voice was heard above the tumult shouting the awful question:
“Who killed Leupp?”
And the answer is said to have come from a hundred throats:
“Jay Gould!”
Prior to the fatal shot, Gould had arranged with Congressman Alley, of Massachusetts, to take the works and thus relieve Luepp and Lee, who was also a partner. But the suicide of the senior partner stopped the final consummation of this plan, and, Gould always insisted, stopped the way to a profitable continuance of the works.
Mr. Gould then negotiated with Leupp’s daughters for the control of the tannery. It is stated that they demanded sixty thousand dollars, the amount Leupp had originally advanced. Gould agreed to this, but proposed a plan by which the payments should extend over a term of years—ten thousand dollars cash and a like amount every year until the entire indebtedness had been liquidated. When the papers were drawn up it was found Gould had made no provision for paying interest. Negotiations were broken off, and Mr. Lee, a relative and partner of Leupp, hastened to Gouldsboro and took possession of the tannery in the name of Leupp’s heirs, taking the precaution to hire a lot of men to help him barricade and guard it. Gould arrived a day or two later and determined to capture the tannery at all hazards. Gouldsboro was a village of about three hundred inhabitants, situated some distance from the railway station, and besides the tannery the most important building was the hotel. Mr. Lee, who, like Mr. Leupp, is described as an honorable, warm-hearted man, but with more courage and grit, had the tannery guarded by about thirty or forty men whom he had hired at Scranton.
Gould, as soon as he arrived, began active operations. He interested nearly the entire population of the place in his behalf. They knew him and Lee was a comparative stranger. Gould told every one he met that he owned the tannery, that Lee and his cutthroats were endeavoring to get the property away from him, and that if they succeeded the business would go to wreck and ruin and the place would suffer a big loss. He had soon an armed gang of about 150 men around him prepared to fight for him. They were a tough looking set of men. He took them to the hotel, where he gave them an oyster supper, and then mounting an empty box addressed his forces, telling them to use no unnecessary violence, but to “be sure and get the tannery.” This was probably the first and only speech Gould ever made in all his life. Filled with oysters and whisky, the men made a determined charge on the tannery, Gould directing everything, but prudently keeping in the background, for he heard that Lee had a loaded musket ready for him. The battle was fierce but short. The barricaded doors were battered in and Lee’s men were driven from the tannery. Two men were badly wounded. One of Lee’s party was shot through the breast. Warrants were issued for the arrest of all concerned. Many of the men fled from the place never to return. Those arrested were afterward released on bail. Gould was left in possession of the property, but it did him little good. Lee began legal proceedings against him and Gould brought counter-suits, and this litigation was continued until the business was destroyed and the tannery abandoned.
In the New York Herald of March 16, 1860, is given the following account of the battle: