Autobiography of Andrew Carnegie
exact what he asked, as their larger interest assured them control,
but I would speak to them. When the subject was broached, Mr. Carnegie
promptly said that if he could not carry Mr. Kloman or myself with his
brother in any improvements he would not wish them made. Other matters
were arranged by courtesy during our partnership in the same manner."
_Question:_ "What you have told me suggests the question, why did Mr.
Kloman leave the firm?"
_Answer:_ "During the great depression which followed the panic of
1873, Mr. Kloman, through an unfortunate partnership in the Escanaba
Furnace Company, lost his means, and his interest in our firm had to
be disposed of. We bought it at book value at a time when
manufacturing properties were selling at ruinous prices, often as low
as one third or one half their cost.
"After the settlement had been made with the creditors of the Escanaba
Company, Mr. Kloman was offered an interest by Mr. Carnegie of
$100,000 in our firm, to be paid only from future profits. This Mr.
Kloman declined, as he did not feel like taking an interest which
formerly had been much larger. Mr. Carnegie gave him $40,000 from the
firm to make a new start. This amount was invested in a rival concern,
which soon closed.
"I knew of no disagreement during this early period with Mr. Carnegie,
and their relations continued pleasant as long as Mr. Kloman lived.
Harmony always marked their intercourse, and they had the kindliest
feeling one for the other."]
CHAPTER XIV
PARTNERS, BOOKS, AND TRAVEL
When Mr. Kloman had severed his connection with us there was no
hesitation in placing William Borntraeger in charge of the mills. It
has always been with especial pleasure that I have pointed to the
career of William. He came direct from Germany--a young man who could
not speak English, but being distantly connected with Mr. Kloman was
employed in the mills, at first in a minor capacity. He promptly
learned English and became a shipping clerk at six dollars per week.
He had not a particle of mechanical knowledge, and yet such was his
unflagging zeal and industry for the interests of his employer that he
soon became marked for being everywhere about the mill, knowing
everything, and attending to everything.
William was a character. He never got over his German idioms and his
inverted English made his remarks very effective. Under his
superintendence the Union Iron Mills became a most profitable branch
of our business. He had overworked himself after a few years'
application and we decided to give him a trip to Europe. He came to
New York by way of Washington. When he called upon me in New York he
expressed himself as more anxious to return to Pittsburgh than to
revisit Germany. In ascending the Washington Monument he had seen the
Carnegie beams in the stairway and also at other points in public
buildings, and as he expressed it:
"It yust make me so broud dat I want to go right back and see dat
everyting is going right at de mill."
Early hours in the morning and late in the dark hours at night
William was in the mills. His life was there. He was among the first
of the young men we admitted to partnership, and the poor German lad
at his death was in receipt of an income, as I remember, of about
$50,000 a year, every cent of which was deserved. Stories about him
are many. At a dinner of our partners to celebrate the year's
business, short speeches were in order from every one. William summed
up his speech thus:
"What we haf to do, shentlemens, is to get brices up and costs down
and efery man _stand on his own bottom_." There was loud, prolonged,
and repeated laughter.
Captain Evans ("Fighting Bob") was at one time government inspector at
our mills. He was a severe one. William was sorely troubled at times
and finally offended the Captain, who complained of his behavior. We
tried to get William to realize the importance of pleasing a
government official. William's reply was:
"But he gomes in and smokes my cigars" (bold Captain! William reveled
in one-cent Wheeling tobies) "and then he goes and contems my iron.
What does you tinks of a man like dat? But I apologize and dreat him
right to-morrow."
The Captain was assured William had agreed to make due amends, but he
laughingly told us afterward that William's apology was:
"Vell, Captain, I hope you vas all right dis morning. I haf noting
against you, Captain," holding out his hand, which the Captain finally
took and all was well.
William once sold to our neighbor, the pioneer steel-maker of
Pittsburgh, James Park, a large lot of old rails which we could not
use. Mr. Park found them of a very bad quality. He made claims for
damages and William was told that he must go with Mr. Phipps to meet
Mr. Park and settle. Mr. Phipps went into Mr. Park's office, while
William took a look around the works in search of the condemned
material, which was nowhere to be seen. Well did William know where to
look. He finally entered the office, and before Mr. Park had time to
say a word William began:
"Mr. Park, I vas glad to hear dat de old rails what I sell you don't
suit for steel. I will buy dem all from you back, five dollars ton
profit for you." Well did William know that they had all been used.
Mr. Park was non-plussed, and the affair ended. William had triumphed.
Upon one of my visits to Pittsburgh William told me he had something
"particular" he wished to tell me--something he couldn't tell any one
else. This was upon his return from the trip to Germany. There he had
been asked to visit for a few days a former schoolfellow, who had
risen to be a professor:
"Well, Mr. Carnegie, his sister who kept his house was very kind to
me, and ven I got to Hamburg I tought I sent her yust a little
present. She write me a letter, then I write her a letter. She write
me and I write her, and den I ask her would she marry me. She was very
educated, but she write yes. Den I ask her to come to New York, and I
meet her dere, but, Mr. Carnegie, dem people don't know noting about
business and de mills. Her bruder write me dey want me to go dere
again and marry her in Chairmany, and I can go away not again from de
mills. I tought I yust ask you aboud it."
"Of course you can go again. Quite right, William, you should go. I
think the better of her people for feeling so. You go over at once and
bring her home. I'll arrange it." Then, when parting, I said:
"William, I suppose your sweetheart is a beautiful, tall,
'peaches-and-cream' kind of German young lady."
"Vell, Mr. Carnegie, she is a leetle stout. If _I had the rolling of
her I give her yust one more pass_." All William's illustrations were
founded on mill practice. [I find myself bursting into fits of
laughter this morning (June, 1912) as I re-read this story. But I did
this also when reading that "Every man must stand on his own bottom."]
Mr. Phipps had been head of the commercial department of the mills,
but when our business was enlarged, he was required for the steel
business. Another young man, William L. Abbott, took his place. Mr.
Abbott's history is somewhat akin to Borntraeger's. He came to us as a
clerk upon a small salary and was soon assigned to the front in charge
of the business of the iron mills. He was no less successful than was
William. He became a partner with an interest equal to William's, and
finally was promoted to the presidency of the company.
Mr. Curry had distinguished himself by this time in his management of
the Lucy Furnaces, and he took his place among the partners, sharing
equally with the others. There is no way of making a business
successful that can vie with the policy of promoting those who render
exceptional service. We finally converted the firm of Carnegie,
McCandless & Co. into the Edgar Thomson Steel Company, and included my
brother and Mr. Phipps, both of whom had declined at first to go into
the steel business with their too enterprising senior. But when I
showed them the earnings for the first year and told them if they did
not get into steel they would find themselves in the wrong boat, they
both reconsidered and came with us. It was fortunate for them as for
us.
My experience has been that no partnership of new men gathered
promiscuously from various fields can prove a good working
organization as at first constituted. Changes are required. Our Edgar
Thomson Steel Company was no exception to this rule. Even before we
began to make rails, Mr. Coleman became dissatisfied with the
management of a railway official who had come to us with a great and
deserved reputation for method and ability. I had, therefore, to take
over Mr. Coleman's interest. It was not long, however, before we found
that his judgment was correct. The new man had been a railway auditor,
and was excellent in accounts, but it was unjust to expect him, or any
other office man, to be able to step into manufacturing and be
successful from the start. He had neither the knowledge nor the
training for this new work. This does not mean that he was not a
splendid auditor. It was our own blunder in expecting the impossible.
The mills were at last about ready to begin[34] and an organization
the auditor proposed was laid before me for approval. I found he had
divided the works into two departments and had given control of one to
Mr. Stevenson, a Scotsman who afterwards made a fine record as a
manufacturer, and control of the other to a Mr. Jones. Nothing, I am
certain, ever affected the success of the steel company more than the
decision which I gave upon that proposal. Upon no account could two
men be in the same works with equal authority. An army with two
commanders-in-chief, a ship with two captains, could not fare more
disastrously than a manufacturing concern with two men in command upon
the same ground, even though in two different departments. I said:
"This will not do. I do not know Mr. Stevenson, nor do I know Mr.
Jones, but one or the other must be made captain and he alone must
report to you."
[Footnote 34: The steel-rail mills were ready and rails were rolled in
1874.]
The decision fell upon Mr. Jones and in this way we obtained "The
Captain," who afterward made his name famous wherever the manufacture
of Bessemer steel is known.
The Captain was then quite young, spare and active, bearing traces of
his Welsh descent even in his stature, for he was quite short. He came
to us as a two-dollar-a-day mechanic from the neighboring works at
Johnstown. We soon saw that he was a character. Every movement told
it. He had volunteered as a private during the Civil War and carried
himself so finely that he became captain of a company which was never
known to flinch. Much of the success of the Edgar Thomson Works
belongs to this man.
In later years he declined an interest in the firm which would have
made him a millionaire. I told him one day that some of the young men
who had been given an interest were now making much more than he was
and we had voted to make him a partner. This entailed no financial
responsibility, as we always provided that the cost of the interest
given was payable only out of profits.
"No," he said, "I don't want to have my thoughts running on business.
I have enough trouble looking after these works. Just give me a h--l
of a salary if you think I'm worth it."
"All right, Captain, the salary of the President of the United States
is yours."
"That's the talk," said the little Welshman.[35]
[Footnote 35: The story is told that when Mr. Carnegie was selecting
his younger partners he one day sent for a young Scotsman, Alexander
R. Peacock, and asked him rather abruptly:
"Peacock, what would you give to be made a millionaire?"
"A liberal discount for cash, sir," was the answer.