Autobiography of Andrew Carnegie
grounds, and on the west and north it lies along two of the main
streets of the town. Its area (between sixty and seventy acres) is
finely sheltered, its high hills grandly wooded. It always meant
paradise to the child of Dunfermline. It certainly did to me. When I
heard of paradise, I translated the word into Pittencrieff Glen,
believing it to be as near to paradise as anything I could think of.
Happy were we if through an open lodge gate, or over the wall or under
the iron grill over the burn, now and then we caught a glimpse inside.
Almost every Sunday Uncle Lauder took "Dod" and "Naig" for a walk
around the Abbey to a part that overlooked the Glen--the busy crows
fluttering around in the big trees below. Its Laird was to us children
the embodiment of rank and wealth. The Queen, we knew, lived in
Windsor Castle, but she didn't own Pittencrieff, not she! Hunt of
Pittencrieff wouldn't exchange with her or with any one. Of this we
were sure, because certainly neither of us would. In all my
childhood's--yes and in my early manhood's--air-castle building (which
was not small), nothing comparable in grandeur approached
Pittencrieff. My Uncle Lauder predicted many things for me when I
became a man, but had he foretold that some day I should be rich
enough, and so supremely fortunate as to become Laird of Pittencrieff,
he might have turned my head. And then to be able to hand it over to
Dunfermline as a public park--my paradise of childhood! Not for a
crown would I barter that privilege.
When Dr. Ross whispered to me that Colonel Hunt might be induced to
sell, my ears cocked themselves instantly. He wished an extortionate
price, the doctor thought, and I heard nothing further for some time.
When indisposed in London in the autumn of 1902, my mind ran upon the
subject, and I intended to wire Dr. Ross to come up and see me. One
morning, Mrs. Carnegie came into my room and asked me to guess who had
arrived and I guessed Dr. Ross. Sure enough, there he was. We talked
over Pittencrieff. I suggested that if our mutual friend and
fellow-townsman, Mr. Shaw in Edinburgh (Lord Shaw of Dunfermline) ever
met Colonel Hunt's agents he could intimate that their client might
some day regret not closing with me as another purchaser equally
anxious to buy might not be met with, and I might change my mind or
pass away. Mr. Shaw told the doctor when he mentioned this that he had
an appointment to meet with Hunt's lawyer on other business the next
morning and would certainly say so.
I sailed shortly after for New York and received there one day a cable
from Mr. Shaw stating that the Laird would accept forty-five thousand
pounds. Should he close? I wired: "Yes, provided it is under Ross's
conditions"; and on Christmas Eve, I received Shaw's reply: "Hail,
Laird of Pittencrieff!" So I was the happy possessor of the grandest
title on earth in my estimation. The King--well, he was only the King.
He didn't own King Malcolm's tower nor St. Margaret's shrine, nor
Pittencrieff Glen. Not he, poor man. I did, and I shall be glad to
condescendingly show the King those treasures should he ever visit
Dunfermline.
As the possessor of the Park and the Glen I had a chance to find out
what, if anything, money could do for the good of the masses of a
community, if placed in the hands of a body of public-spirited
citizens. Dr. Ross was taken into my confidence so far as Pittencrieff
Park was concerned, and with his advice certain men intended for a
body of trustees were agreed upon and invited to Skibo to organize.
They imagined it was in regard to transferring the Park to the town;
not even to Dr. Ross was any other subject mentioned. When they heard
that half a million sterling in bonds, bearing five per cent interest,
was also to go to them for the benefit of Dunfermline, they were
surprised.[60]
[Footnote 60: Additional gifts, made later, brought this gift up to
$3,750,000.]
It is twelve years since the Glen was handed over to the trustees and
certainly no public park was ever dearer to a people. The children's
yearly gala day, the flower shows and the daily use of the Park by the
people are surprising. The Glen now attracts people from neighboring
towns. In numerous ways the trustees have succeeded finely in the
direction indicated in the trust deed, namely:
To bring into the monotonous lives of the toiling masses of
Dunfermline, more "of sweetness and light," to give to
them--especially the young--some charm, some happiness, some
elevating conditions of life which residence elsewhere would
have denied, that the child of my native town, looking back
in after years, however far from home it may have roamed,
will feel that simply by virtue of being such, life has been
made happier and better. If this be the fruit of your
labors, you will have succeeded; if not, you will have
failed.
To this paragraph I owe the friendship of Earl Grey, formerly
Governor-General of Canada. He wrote Dr. Ross:
"I must know the man who wrote that document in the 'Times' this
morning."
We met in London and became instantly sympathetic. He is a great soul
who passes instantly into the heart and stays there. Lord Grey is also
to-day a member (trustee) of the ten-million-dollar fund for the
United Kingdom.[61]
[Footnote 61: Mr. Carnegie refers to the gift of ten million dollars
to the Carnegie United Kingdom Trust merely in connection with Earl
Grey. His references to his gifts are casual, in that he refers only
to the ones in which he happens for the moment to be interested. Those
he mentions are merely a part of the whole. He gave to the Church
Peace Union over $2,000,000, to the United Engineering Society
$1,500,000, to the International Bureau of American Republics
$850,000, and to a score or more of research, hospital, and
educational boards sums ranging from $100,000 to $500,000. He gave to
various towns and cities over twenty-eight hundred library buildings
at a cost of over $60,000,000. The largest of his gifts he does not
mention at all. This was made in 1911 to the Carnegie Corporation of
New York and was $125,000,000. The Corporation is the residuary
legatee under Mr. Carnegie's will and it is not yet known what further
sum may come to it through that instrument. The object of the
Corporation, as defined by Mr. Carnegie himself in a letter to the
trustees, is:
"To promote the advancement and diffusion of knowledge and
understanding among the people of the United States by aiding
technical schools, institutions of higher learning, libraries,
scientific research, hero funds, useful publications and by such other
agencies and means as shall from time to time be found appropriate
therefor."
The Carnegie benefactions, all told, amount to something over
$350,000,000--surely a huge sum to have been brought together and then
distributed by one man.]
Thus, Pittencrieff Glen is the most soul-satisfying public gift I ever
made, or ever can make. It is poetic justice that the grandson of
Thomas Morrison, radical leader in his day, nephew of Bailie Morrison,
his son and successor, and above all son of my sainted father and my
most heroic mother, should arise and dispossess the lairds, should
become the agent for conveying the Glen and Park to the people of
Dunfermline forever. It is a true romance, which no air-castle can
quite equal or fiction conceive. The hand of destiny seems to hover
over it, and I hear something whispering: "Not altogether in vain have
you lived--not altogether in vain." This is the crowning mercy of my
career! I set it apart from all my other public gifts. Truly the
whirligig of time brings in some strange revenges.
It is now thirteen years since I ceased to accumulate wealth and began
to distribute it. I could never have succeeded in either had I stopped
with having enough to retire upon, but nothing to retire to. But there
was the habit and the love of reading, writing and speaking upon
occasion, and also the acquaintance and friendship of educated men
which I had made before I gave up business. For some years after
retiring I could not force myself to visit the works. This, alas,
would recall so many who had gone before. Scarcely one of my early
friends would remain to give me the hand-clasp of the days of old.
Only one or two of these old men would call me "Andy."
Do not let it be thought, however, that my younger partners were
forgotten, or that they have not played a very important part in
sustaining me in the effort of reconciling myself to the new
conditions. Far otherwise! The most soothing influence of all was
their prompt organization of the Carnegie Veteran Association, to
expire only when the last member dies. Our yearly dinner together, in
our own home in New York, is a source of the greatest pleasure,--so
great that it lasts from one year to the other. Some of the Veterans
travel far to be present, and what occurs between us constitutes one
of the dearest joys of my life. I carry with me the affection of "my
boys." I am certain I do. There is no possible mistake about that
because my heart goes out to them. This I number among my many
blessings and in many a brooding hour this fact comes to me, and I say
to myself: "Rather this, minus fortune, than multi-millionairedom
without it--yes, a thousand times, yes."
Many friends, great and good men and women, Mrs. Carnegie and I are
favored to know, but not one whit shall these ever change our joint
love for the "boys." For to my infinite delight her heart goes out to
them as does mine. She it was who christened our new New York home
with the first Veteran dinner. "The partners first" was her word. It
was no mere idle form when they elected Mrs. Carnegie the first
honorary member, and our daughter the second. Their place in our
hearts is secure. Although I was the senior, still we were "boys
together." Perfect trust and common aims, not for self only, but for
each other, and deep affection, moulded us into a brotherhood. We were
friends first and partners afterwards. Forty-three out of forty-five
partners are thus bound together for life.
Another yearly event that brings forth many choice spirits is our
Literary Dinner, at home, our dear friend Mr. Richard Watson Gilder,
editor of the "Century," being the manager.[62] His devices and
quotations from the writings of the guest of the year, placed upon
the cards of the guests, are so appropriate, as to cause much
hilarity. Then the speeches of the novitiates give zest to the
occasion. John Morley was the guest of honor when with us in 1895 and
a quotation from his works was upon the card at each plate.
[Footnote 62: "Yesterday we had a busy day in Toronto. The grand event
was a dinner at six o'clock where we all spoke, A.C. making a
remarkable address.... I can't tell you how I am enjoying this. Not
only seeing new places, but the talks with our own party. It is,
indeed, a liberal education. A.C. is truly a 'great' man; that is, a
man of enormous faculty and a great imagination. I don't remember any
friend who has such a range of poetical quotation, unless it is
Stedman. (Not so much _range_ as numerous quotations from Shakespeare,
Burns, Byron, etc.) His views are truly large and prophetic. And,
unless I am mistaken, he has a genuine ethical character. He is not
perfect, but he is most interesting and remarkable; a true democrat;
his benevolent actions having a root in principle and character. He is
not accidentally the intimate friend of such high natures as Arnold
and Morley." (_Letters of Richard Watson Gilder_, edited by his
daughter Rosamond Gilder, p. 374. New York, 1916.)]
One year Gilder appeared early in the evening of the dinner as he
wished to seat the guests. This had been done, but he came to me