But now let us quote a little plain language from Charles Francis Adams in order to get into the atmosphere of Erie at this time: “Yet freebooters are not extinct,” he wrote. “They have only transferred their operations to the land, and have conducted them in more or less accordance with the forms of law, until at last so great a proficiency have they attained that the commerce of the world is more equally but far more heavily taxed in their behalf than would ever have entered into their wildest hopes, while outside the law they simply make all comers stand and deliver. * * * Gambling is a business now, where formerly it was a disreputable excitement. Cheating at cards was always disgraceful. Transactions of a similar character under the euphemistic names of ‘operating,’ ‘cornering’ and the like are not so regarded. * * * No better illustration of the fantastic disguises which the worst and most familiar evils of history assume as they meet us in the actual movement of our own day could be afforded than was seen in the events attending what are known as the Erie wars of the year 1868.” In these wars Gould was an active spirit; and if Mr. Adams had written in 1873 instead of 1869 he would have made his language still stronger. Before his entrance into Erie Gould had become acquainted with James Fisk, Jr., and the former, with that unerring judgment of men which was always one of the elements of his success, soon perceived in Fisk the qualities which supplied his own deficiencies. Fisk was the son of a Vermont peddler and followed the calling himself for some time, and in it learned the great art of driving a hard and shrewd bargain. Wholly uneducated, his natural ability in the line of making money was very great. Gould was timid and shrank from publicity. Fisk was bold and loved notoriety. Gould had many refinements of mind and was of a domestic nature. Fisk was coarse, sensual and fond of display. He became the colonel of a militia regiment, and with great delight used to put on his uniform and ride in front of his command. He used to create a sensation by riding in a carriage with six horses in questionable female company. He considered it one of the choisest prerogatives of his position of vice-president and comptroller of Erie to direct the theater that adjoined the railway offices in the Grand Opera House. While Gould did not have the inclination or courage to do these things he did not hesitate to use Fisk in every available way and to hide his own personality behind that of his partner. In those days Fisk seemed to play the more prominent part, and Gould, in public estimation, was a secondary character. When anything was done it was Fisk that bore the brunt of popular criticism and indignation. Yet the facts as they are now known show that Gould’s was the master mind; Fisk was simply his right arm. “With Gould to plan and Fisk to act,” said Gen. Francis Barlow, in 1872, “they were a strong team.”