Autobiography of Andrew Carnegie
extent than ever. Mother kept on the binding of shoes; Tom went
steadily to the public school; and I continued with Mr. Scott in the
service of the railroad company. Just at this time Fortunatus knocked
at our door. Mr. Scott asked me if I had five hundred dollars. If so,
he said he wished to make an investment for me. Five hundred cents was
much nearer my capital. I certainly had not fifty dollars saved for
investment, but I was not going to miss the chance of becoming
financially connected with my leader and great man. So I said boldly I
thought I could manage that sum. He then told me that there were ten
shares of Adams Express stock that he could buy, which had belonged to
a station agent, Mr. Reynolds, of Wilkinsburg. Of course this was
reported to the head of the family that evening, and she was not long
in suggesting what might be done. When did she ever fail? We had then
paid five hundred dollars upon the house, and in some way she thought
this might be pledged as security for a loan.
My mother took the steamer the next morning for East Liverpool,
arriving at night, and through her brother there the money was
secured. He was a justice of the peace, a well-known resident of that
then small town, and had numerous sums in hand from farmers for
investment. Our house was mortgaged and mother brought back the five
hundred dollars which I handed over to Mr. Scott, who soon obtained
for me the coveted ten shares in return. There was, unexpectedly, an
additional hundred dollars to pay as a premium, but Mr. Scott kindly
said I could pay that when convenient, and this of course was an easy
matter to do.
This was my first investment. In those good old days monthly
dividends were more plentiful than now and Adams Express paid a
monthly dividend. One morning a white envelope was lying upon my desk,
addressed in a big John Hancock hand, to "Andrew Carnegie, Esquire."
"Esquire" tickled the boys and me inordinately. At one corner was seen
the round stamp of Adams Express Company. I opened the envelope. All
it contained was a check for ten dollars upon the Gold Exchange Bank
of New York. I shall remember that check as long as I live, and that
John Hancock signature of "J.C. Babcock, Cashier." It gave me the
first penny of revenue from capital--something that I had not worked
for with the sweat of my brow. "Eureka!" I cried. "Here's the goose
that lays the golden eggs."
It was the custom of our party to spend Sunday afternoons in the
woods. I kept the first check and showed it as we sat under the trees
in a favorite grove we had found near Wood's Run. The effect produced
upon my companions was overwhelming. None of them had imagined such an
investment possible. We resolved to save and to watch for the next
opportunity for investment in which all of us should share, and for
years afterward we divided our trifling investments and worked
together almost as partners.
Up to this time my circle of acquaintances had not enlarged much. Mrs.
Franciscus, wife of our freight agent, was very kind and on several
occasions asked me to her house in Pittsburgh. She often spoke of the
first time I rang the bell of the house in Third Street to deliver a
message from Mr. Scott. She asked me to come in; I bashfully declined
and it required coaxing upon her part to overcome my shyness. She was
never able for years to induce me to partake of a meal in her house. I
had great timidity about going into other people's houses, until late
in life; but Mr. Scott would occasionally insist upon my going to his
hotel and taking a meal with him, and these were great occasions for
me. Mr. Franciscus's was the first considerable house, with the
exception of Mr. Lombaert's at Altoona, I had ever entered, as far as
I recollect. Every house was fashionable in my eyes that was upon any
one of the principal streets, provided it had a hall entrance.
I had never spent a night in a strange house in my life until Mr.
Stokes of Greensburg, chief counsel of the Pennsylvania Railroad,
invited me to his beautiful home in the country to pass a Sunday. It
was an odd thing for Mr. Stokes to do, for I could little interest a
brilliant and educated man like him. The reason for my receiving such
an honor was a communication I had written for the "Pittsburgh
Journal." Even in my teens I was a scribbler for the press. To be an
editor was one of my ambitions. Horace Greeley and the "Tribune" was
my ideal of human triumph. Strange that there should have come a day
when I could have bought the "Tribune"; but by that time the pearl had
lost its luster. Our air castles are often within our grasp late in
life, but then they charm not.
The subject of my article was upon the attitude of the city toward the
Pennsylvania Railroad Company. It was signed anonymously and I was
surprised to find it got a prominent place in the columns of the
"Journal," then owned and edited by Robert M. Riddle. I, as operator,
received a telegram addressed to Mr. Scott and signed by Mr. Stokes,
asking him to ascertain from Mr. Riddle who the author of that
communication was. I knew that Mr. Riddle could not tell the author,
because he did not know him; but at the same time I was afraid that if
Mr. Scott called upon him he would hand him the manuscript, which Mr.
Scott would certainly recognize at a glance. I therefore made a clean
breast of it to Mr. Scott and told him I was the author. He seemed
incredulous. He said he had read it that morning and wondered who had
written it. His incredulous look did not pass me unnoticed. The pen
was getting to be a weapon with me. Mr. Stokes's invitation to spend
Sunday with him followed soon after, and the visit is one of the
bright spots in my life. Henceforth we were great friends.
The grandeur of Mr. Stokes's home impressed me, but the one feature of
it that eclipsed all else was a marble mantel in his library. In the
center of the arch, carved in the marble, was an open book with this
inscription:
"He that cannot reason is a fool,
He that will not a bigot,
He that dare not a slave."
These noble words thrilled me. I said to myself, "Some day, some day,
I'll have a library" (that was a look ahead) "and these words shall
grace the mantel as here." And so they do in New York and Skibo
to-day.
Another Sunday which I spent at his home after an interval of several
years was also noteworthy. I had then become the superintendent of the
Pittsburgh Division of the Pennsylvania Railroad. The South had
seceded. I was all aflame for the flag. Mr. Stokes, being a leading
Democrat, argued against the right of the North to use force for the
preservation of the Union. He gave vent to sentiments which caused me
to lose my self-control, and I exclaimed:
"Mr. Stokes, we shall be hanging men like you in less than six weeks."
I hear his laugh as I write, and his voice calling to his wife in the
adjoining room:
"Nancy, Nancy, listen to this young Scotch devil. He says they will be
hanging men like me in less than six weeks."
Strange things happened in those days. A short time after, that same
Mr. Stokes was applying to me in Washington to help him to a major's
commission in the volunteer forces. I was then in the Secretary of
War's office, helping to manage the military railroads and telegraphs
for the Government. This appointment he secured and ever after was
Major Stokes, so that the man who doubted the right of the North to
fight for the Union had himself drawn sword in the good cause. Men at
first argued and theorized about Constitutional rights. It made all
the difference in the world when the flag was fired upon. In a moment
everything was ablaze--paper constitutions included. The Union and Old
Glory! That was all the people cared for, but that was enough. The
Constitution was intended to insure one flag, and as Colonel Ingersoll
proclaimed: "There was not air enough on the American continent to
float two."
CHAPTER VII
SUPERINTENDENT OF THE PENNSYLVANIA
Mr. Scott was promoted to be the general superintendent of the
Pennsylvania Railroad in 1856, taking Mr. Lombaert's place; and he
took me, then in my twenty-third year, with him to Altoona. This
breaking-up of associations in Pittsburgh was a sore trial, but
nothing could be allowed to interfere for a moment with my business
career. My mother was satisfied upon this point, great as the strain
was upon her. Besides, "follow my leader" was due to so true a friend
as Mr. Scott had been.
His promotion to the superintendency gave rise to some jealousy; and
besides that, he was confronted with a strike at the very beginning of
his appointment. He had lost his wife in Pittsburgh a short time
before and had his lonely hours. He was a stranger in Altoona, his new
headquarters, and there was none but myself seemingly of whom he could
make a companion. We lived for many weeks at the railway hotel
together before he took up housekeeping and brought his children from
Pittsburgh, and at his desire I occupied the same large bedroom with
him. He seemed anxious always to have me near him.
The strike became more and more threatening. I remember being wakened
one night and told that the freight-train men had left their trains at
Mifflin; that the line was blocked on this account and all traffic
stopped. Mr. Scott was then sleeping soundly. It seemed to me a pity
to disturb him, knowing how overworked and overanxious he was; but he
awoke and I suggested that I should go up and attend to the matter.
He seemed to murmur assent, not being more than half awake. So I went
to the office and in his name argued the question with the men and
promised them a hearing next day at Altoona. I succeeded in getting
them to resume their duties and to start the traffic.
Not only were the trainmen in a rebellious mood, but the men in the
shops were rapidly organizing to join with the disaffected. This I
learned in a curious manner. One night, as I was walking home in the
dark, I became aware that a man was following me. By and by he came up
to me and said:
"I must not be seen with you, but you did me a favor once and I then
resolved if ever I could serve you I would do it. I called at the
office in Pittsburgh and asked for work as a blacksmith. You said
there was no work then at Pittsburgh, but perhaps employment could be
had at Altoona, and if I would wait a few minutes you would ask by
telegraph. You took the trouble to do so, examined my recommendations,
and gave me a pass and sent me here. I have a splendid job. My wife
and family are here and I was never so well situated in my life. And
now I want to tell you something for your good."
I listened and he went on to say that a paper was being rapidly signed
by the shopmen, pledging themselves to strike on Monday next. There
was no time to be lost. I told Mr. Scott in the morning and he at once
had printed notices posted in the shops that all men who had signed
the paper, pledging themselves to strike, were dismissed and they
should call at the office to be paid. A list of the names of the
signers had come into our possession in the meantime, and this fact
was announced. Consternation followed and the threatened strike was
broken.
I have had many incidents, such as that of the blacksmith, in my life.
Slight attentions or a kind word to the humble often bring back reward
as great as it is unlooked for. No kind action is ever lost. Even to
this day I occasionally meet men whom I had forgotten, who recall some
trifling attention I have been able to pay them, especially when in
charge at Washington of government railways and telegraphs during the
Civil War, when I could pass people within the lines--a father helped
to reach a wounded or sick son at the front, or enabled to bring home