 I actually think I will read something I rarely do because in six minutes it's almost impossible to summarize the life of Commodore Vanderbilt as he was known, the founder of the Vanderbilt dynasty. This is a man who was born during George Washington's presidency and lived long enough to make deals personally with John D. Rockefeller. So I will actually pick up with a short passage about Vanderbilt late in life in his relationship with his second son, Cornel, as Cornelius Jeremiah was known. Everybody dies, just not always in the right order. By all logic, Cornelius Vanderbilt should have gone before any of his familiars who died in 1872. He turned 78 that year, decades past life expectancy. He had survived fistfights, boiler explosions, a train wreck, heart trouble, nicaraguan rapids, exposure to tropical diseases, Atlantic storms, and wagon smashes. Yet he endured as those younger than himself passed away. On February 24th, his old enemy LeGrand Lockwood fell dead at 52, still in debt to Vanderbilt's railroad. Before that, on January 6th, the, quote, porcine carcass of the 38-year-old Jim Fisk tumbled down the steps of the Grand Central Hotel shot by Edward S. Stokes and died soon after. Lockwood and Fisk probably drew little of Vanderbilt's sympathy. In December, he would coldly testify at Stokes' trial. I had a very bad opinion of Mr. Fisk since I first knew him. But death took family and friends as well as foes. On March 25th, his daughter-in-law, Ellen Vanderbilt, died of pneumonia in West Hartford. The loss of this self-sacrificing young woman struck Vanderbilt to the core. He received the news as he sat in his office talking with J. C. Smith, a railroad contractor. When he first had learned of his son, Cornel's, engagement to Ellen, he told Smith, he had gone to Hartford to meet her. He had taken her out in a carriage and recounted Cornel's many misdeeds. She had replied, Commodore, isn't some of it your fault? Have you always treated him as you should? At that, Vanderbilt related, he looked around and said, what a beautiful city. Because, quote, he knew the thing was up. What a rare burst of reflection, even self-criticism, the death of this young woman induced. It speaks to both the tenderness he felt for his daughter-in-law and the conflicting emotions that his tortured and torturing son aroused in him. One evening, after Ellen's death, Vanderbilt told Reverend Sidney Corey how he had approached her father, Oliver Williams, before the wedding and pestered him about her possessions. Williams, naturally and indignantly, had asked the reason for such questions. The Commodore had replied, if your girl has silver and jewelry and silk and satins and fine shawls, and my son marries her, he will steal them away from her, pawn them and gamble away the proceeds. Williams had said that Vanderbilt was giving his son a bad reputation. I feel that it is due to your daughter, Vanderbilt had said. It can't be as painful for you to hear as it is for me to say it. Cornel had been loosely moored at best since the death of his mother. The loss of his devoted wife set him almost literally adrift. He took up with George Terry, an unmarried hotelkeeper whom Cornel considered my dearest friend. The intensity of their relationship raises the question of precisely how intimate they were. Cornel once addressed a letter to my darling George. On another occasion, he wrote, oh, George, I cannot give you up. You must not desert me now, but must be brave and patient and give me encouragement and hope for the future. In the full context of Cornel's prolific and effusive correspondence, however, such declarations turn out to be less than definitive evidence that their relationship was physical or romantic. It was an era when platonic male friends commonly wrote of their affection or love for one another. And Cornel was particularly affectionate when he was asking Terry for money. Ellen had known Terry well and had struggled together with him to save Cornel from his gambling addiction. But Terry and Cornel's relationship was certainly intimate. Both men later testified that, after Ellen's death, they became almost constant companions, sleeping and eating and reading together almost all the time. In the spring, they departed for the West on a journey that would eventually take them to Japan. On June 25th, Cornel wrote to Horace Greeley from Denver. Having constantly employed myself, roaming about the Colorado country, I find myself much improved in health, he wrote. I have just received quite an affectionate letter from the Commodore. He appears to take a deep interest in me just at present and begs me to do everything to regain my health. And I have never known him quite so affectionate. This stubborn inconsistency, as the Commodore's first wife called it, was all too comprehensible. Ever a man who did not suffer fools, Vanderbilt felt impatience and scorn for Cornel's weaknesses, yet he unquestionably loved his son and never quite gave up hope for him. Better parents than he have suffered contradictory emotions over their children. Thank you very much. Thank you.