Autobiography of Andrew Carnegie
and they availed themselves of it. This was a different world, indeed,
from that to which I had been accustomed. I was not happy about it. I
ate, necessarily, of the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and
evil for the first time. But there were still the sweet and pure
surroundings of home, where nothing coarse or wicked ever entered, and
besides, there was the world in which I dwelt with my companions, all
of them refined young men, striving to improve themselves and become
respected citizens. I passed through this phase of my life detesting
what was foreign to my nature and my early education. The experience
with coarse men was probably beneficial because it gave me a "scunner"
(disgust), to use a Scotism, at chewing or smoking tobacco, also at
swearing or the use of improper language, which fortunately remained
with me through life.
I do not wish to suggest that the men of whom I have spoken were
really degraded or bad characters. The habit of swearing, with coarse
talk, chewing and smoking tobacco, and snuffing were more prevalent
then than to-day and meant less than in this age. Railroading was new,
and many rough characters were attracted to it from the river service.
But many of the men were fine young fellows who have lived to be
highly respectable citizens and to occupy responsible positions. And I
must say that one and all of them were most kind to me. Many are yet
living from whom I hear occasionally and regard with affection. A
change came at last when Mr. Scott had his own office which he and I
occupied.
I was soon sent by Mr. Scott to Altoona to get the monthly pay-rolls
and checks. The railroad line was not completed over the Allegheny
Mountains at that time, and I had to pass over the inclined planes
which made the journey a remarkable one to me. Altoona was then
composed of a few houses built by the company. The shops were under
construction and there was nothing of the large city which now
occupies the site. It was there that I saw for the first time the
great man in our railroad field--Mr. Lombaert, general superintendent.
His secretary at that time was my friend, Robert Pitcairn, for whom I
had obtained a situation on the railroad, so that "Davy," "Bob," and
"Andy" were still together in the same service. We had all left the
telegraph company for the Pennsylvania Railroad Company.
Mr. Lombaert was very different from Mr. Scott; he was not sociable,
but rather stern and unbending. Judge then of Robert's surprise, and
my own, when, after saying a few words to me, Mr. Lombaert added: "You
must come down and take tea with us to-night." I stammered out
something of acceptance and awaited the appointed hour with great
trepidation. Up to this time I considered that invitation the greatest
honor I had received. Mrs. Lombaert was exceedingly kind, and Mr.
Lombaert's introduction of me to her was: "This is Mr. Scott's
'Andy.'" I was very proud indeed of being recognized as belonging to
Mr. Scott.
An incident happened on this trip which might have blasted my career
for a time. I started next morning for Pittsburgh with the pay-rolls
and checks, as I thought, securely placed under my waistcoat, as it
was too large a package for my pockets. I was a very enthusiastic
railroader at that time and preferred riding upon the engine. I got
upon the engine that took me to Hollidaysburg where the State railroad
over the mountain was joined up. It was a very rough ride, indeed, and
at one place, uneasily feeling for the pay-roll package, I was
horrified to find that the jolting of the train had shaken it out. I
had lost it!
There was no use in disguising the fact that such a failure would ruin
me. To have been sent for the pay-rolls and checks and to lose the
package, which I should have "grasped as my honor," was a dreadful
showing. I called the engineer and told him it must have been shaken
out within the last few miles. Would he reverse his engine and run
back for it? Kind soul, he did so. I watched the line, and on the very
banks of a large stream, within a few feet of the water, I saw that
package lying. I could scarcely believe my eyes. I ran down and
grasped it. It was all right. Need I add that it never passed out of
my firm grasp again until it was safe in Pittsburgh? The engineer and
fireman were the only persons who knew of my carelessness, and I had
their assurance that it would not be told.
It was long after the event that I ventured to tell the story. Suppose
that package had fallen just a few feet farther away and been swept
down by the stream, how many years of faithful service would it have
required upon my part to wipe out the effect of that one piece of
carelessness! I could no longer have enjoyed the confidence of those
whose confidence was essential to success had fortune not favored me.
I have never since believed in being too hard on a young man, even if
he does commit a dreadful mistake or two; and I have always tried in
judging such to remember the difference it would have made in my own
career but for an accident which restored to me that lost package at
the edge of the stream a few miles from Hollidaysburg. I could go
straight to the very spot to-day, and often as I passed over that line
afterwards I never failed to see that light-brown package lying upon
the bank. It seemed to be calling:
"All right, my boy! the good gods were with you, but don't do it
again!"
At an early age I became a strong anti-slavery partisan and hailed
with enthusiasm the first national meeting of the Republican Party in
Pittsburgh, February 22, 1856, although too young to vote. I watched
the prominent men as they walked the streets, lost in admiration for
Senators Wilson, Hale, and others. Some time before I had organized
among the railroad men a club of a hundred for the "New York Weekly
Tribune," and ventured occasionally upon short notes to the great
editor, Horace Greeley, who did so much to arouse the people to action
upon this vital question.
The first time I saw my work in type in the then flaming organ of
freedom certainly marked a stage in my career. I kept that "Tribune"
for years. Looking back to-day one cannot help regretting so high a
price as the Civil War had to be paid to free our land from the curse,
but it was not slavery alone that needed abolition. The loose Federal
system with State rights so prominent would inevitably have prevented,
or at least long delayed, the formation of one solid, all-powerful,
central government. The tendency under the Southern idea was
centrifugal. To-day it is centripetal, all drawn toward the center
under the sway of the Supreme Court, the decisions of which are, very
properly, half the dicta of lawyers and half the work of statesmen.
Uniformity in many fields must be secured. Marriage, divorce,
bankruptcy, railroad supervision, control of corporations, and some
other departments should in some measure be brought under one head.
[Re-reading this paragraph to-day, July, 1907, written many years ago,
it seems prophetic. These are now burning questions.]
It was not long after this that the railroad company constructed its
own telegraph line. We had to supply it with operators. Most of these
were taught in our offices at Pittsburgh. The telegraph business
continued to increase with startling rapidity. We could scarcely
provide facilities fast enough. New telegraph offices were required.
My fellow messenger-boy, "Davy" McCargo, I appointed superintendent of
the telegraph department March 11, 1859. I have been told that "Davy"
and myself are entitled to the credit of being the first to employ
young women as telegraph operators in the United States upon
railroads, or perhaps in any branch. At all events, we placed girls in
various offices as pupils, taught and then put them in charge of
offices as occasion required. Among the first of these was my cousin,
Miss Maria Hogan. She was the operator at the freight station in
Pittsburgh, and with her were placed successive pupils, her office
becoming a school. Our experience was that young women operators were
more to be relied upon than young men. Among all the new occupations
invaded by women I do not know of any better suited for them than that
of telegraph operator.
Mr. Scott was one of the most delightful superiors that anybody could
have and I soon became warmly attached to him. He was my great man and
all the hero worship that is inherent in youth I showered upon him. I
soon began placing him in imagination in the presidency of the great
Pennsylvania Railroad--a position which he afterwards attained. Under
him I gradually performed duties not strictly belonging to my
department and I can attribute my decided advancement in the service
to one well-remembered incident.
The railway was a single line. Telegraph orders to trains often became
necessary, although it was not then a regular practice to run trains
by telegraph. No one but the superintendent himself was permitted to
give a train order on any part of the Pennsylvania system, or indeed
of any other system, I believe, at that time. It was then a dangerous
expedient to give telegraphic orders, for the whole system of railway
management was still in its infancy, and men had not yet been trained
for it. It was necessary for Mr. Scott to go out night after night to
break-downs or wrecks to superintend the clearing of the line. He was
necessarily absent from the office on many mornings.
One morning I reached the office and found that a serious accident on
the Eastern Division had delayed the express passenger train
westward, and that the passenger train eastward was proceeding with a
flagman in advance at every curve. The freight trains in both
directions were all standing still upon the sidings. Mr. Scott was not
to be found. Finally I could not resist the temptation to plunge in,
take the responsibility, give "train orders," and set matters going.
"Death or Westminster Abbey," flashed across my mind. I knew it was
dismissal, disgrace, perhaps criminal punishment for me if I erred. On
the other hand, I could bring in the wearied freight-train men who had
lain out all night. I could set everything in motion. I knew I could.
I had often done it in wiring Mr. Scott's orders. I knew just what to
do, and so I began. I gave the orders in his name, started every
train, sat at the instrument watching every tick, carried the trains
along from station to station, took extra precautions, and had
everything running smoothly when Mr. Scott at last reached the office.
He had heard of the delays. His first words were:
"Well! How are matters?"
He came to my side quickly, grasped his pencil and began to write his
orders. I had then to speak, and timidly said:
"Mr. Scott, I could not find you anywhere and I gave these orders in
your name early this morning."
"Are they going all right? Where is the Eastern Express?"
I showed him the messages and gave him the position of every train on
the line--freights, ballast trains, everything--showed him the answers
of the various conductors, the latest reports at the stations where
the various trains had passed. All was right. He looked in my face for
a second. I scarcely dared look in his. I did not know what was going
to happen. He did not say one word, but again looked carefully over
all that had taken place. Still he said nothing. After a little he
moved away from my desk to his own, and that was the end of it. He was
afraid to approve what I had done, yet he had not censured me. If it
came out all right, it was all right; if it came out all wrong, the
responsibility was mine. So it stood, but I noticed that he came in
very regularly and in good time for some mornings after that.
Of course I never spoke to any one about it. None of the trainmen knew