There never was a clearer proof than in his case that the child is father of the man.  He showed in boyhood the very quality which has most distinguished him as a man,—­the power of accomplishing things in spite of difficulty and opposition.  He was a born conqueror.

When he was twelve years old, his father took a contract for getting the cargo out of a vessel stranded near Sandy Hook, and transporting it to New York in lighters.  It was necessary to carry the cargo in wagons across a sandy spit.  Cornelius, with a little fleet of lighters, three wagons, their horses and drivers, started from home solely charged with the management of this difficult affair.  After loading the lighters and starting them for the city, he had to conduct his wagons home by land,—­a long distance over Jersey sands.  Leaving the beach with only six dollars, he reached South Amboy penniless, with six horses and three men, all hungry, still far from home, and separated from Staten Island by an arm of the sea half a mile wide, that could be crossed only by paying the ferryman six dollars.  This was a puzzling predicament for a boy of twelve, and he pondered long how he could get out of it.  At length he went boldly to the only innkeeper of the place, and addressed him thus:—­

“I have here three teams that I want to get over to Staten Island.  If you will put us across, I’ll leave with you one of my horses in pawn, and if I don’t send you back the six dollars within forty-eight hours you may keep the horse.”

The innkeeper looked into the bright, honest eyes of the boy for a moment and said:—­

“I’ll do it.”

And he did it.  The horse in pawn was left with the ferryman on the Island, and he was redeemed in time.

Before he was sixteen he had made up his mind to earn his livelihood by navigation of some kind, and often, when tired of farm work, he had cast wistful glances at the outward-bound ships that passed his home.  Occasionally, too, he had alarmed his mother by threatening to run away and go to sea.  His preference, however, was to become a boatman of New York harbor.  On the first of May, 1810,—­an important day in his history,—­he made known his wishes to his mother, and asked her to advance him a hundred dollars for the purchase of a boat.  She replied:—­

“My son, on the twenty-seventh of this month you will be sixteen years old.  If, by your birthday, you will plough, harrow, and plant with corn that lot,” pointing to a field, “I will advance you the money.”

The field was one of eight acres, very rough, tough, and stony.  He informed his young companions of his mother’s conditional promise, and several of them readily agreed to help him.  For the next two weeks the field presented the spectacle of a continuous “bee” of boys, picking up stones, ploughing, harrowing, and planting.  To say that the work was done in time, and done thoroughly, is only another way of stating that it was undertaken and conducted