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THE FLRST MILLION 
 THE HARDEST 
 
 An Autobiography 
 
THE FIRST MILLION 
 THE HARDEST 
 
 An Autobiography 
 
 BY 
 A. B. FARQUHAR 
 
 IN COLLABORATION WITH 
 
 SAMUEL CROWTHER 
 
 GARDEN CITT, NEW YOKK, TORONTO 
 
 DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 
 1922 
 
 "ft w 
 
A7*?3S-V 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1922j BY 
 
 DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 
 
 AIL EIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OP TRANSLATION 
 
 INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING' THE SCANDINAVIAN 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1920, 1921, BT A. W. SHAW COMPANY 
 
 PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES 
 
 AT 
 
 THE COUNTRY LIFE PRESS, GARDEN CITY, N. Y. 
 
 First Edition 
 
TO 
 MY BELOVED WIFE 
 
 WHO HAS EVER BEEN AN INSPIRATION 
 TO WELL DOING 
 
 THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED 
 
PREFACE 
 
 THE eighty years of whose activities this 
 volume contains my recollections show 
 notable changes of scene. Beginning in a 
 country neighbourhood, twelve miles from the 
 nearest railroad; passing from farm to machine- 
 shop, thence through the grades of apprentice, 
 foreman, partner, and in time head of the business; 
 attending numerous conventions; serving on com- 
 missions for state and nation; taking an active 
 part in many societies and associations which 
 had for their aim the promotion of the public 
 weal; on frequent journeys throughout the country 
 or abroad, making acquaintance with all sorts and 
 conditions of men — my life, stretching as it has 
 over that eventful period in our national history 
 which began before the Civil War, has been most 
 interesting to lead, and, I trust, may be found 
 interesting to read. The assurance from many of 
 my friends that a record of my experiences would 
 be of interest, together with the solicitations of an 
 editor that I contribute a series of articles to his 
 magazine, finally overcame my doubts; and a 
 stronger influence was the expressed belief of 
 many that such a record might be of service. 
 
 vii 
 
viii Preface 
 
 However short I may have come of realizing my 
 desire, my controlling aspiration has been to be of 
 service, and if to the power to entertain, I might 
 add the power to make my reader more zealous, 
 more hopeful, more courageous in his own under- 
 takings, I shall feel justified. Of this the reader 
 must be the judge. 
 
 Too often when a life is closed our sense of loss 
 is aggravated by the thought that so little is left 
 to show the inner personality of the one whom we 
 knew. The working of a man's mind and develop- 
 ment of his character are interesting studies in 
 themselves; and the increasing number of readers 
 who appear to agree with good old Dr. Samuel 
 Johnson's remark, "Sir, the biographical part of 
 literature is what I love most," emboldens me to 
 hope that this volume, whatever its shortcomings, 
 may find a welcome. 
 
 The association with Mr. Samuel Crowther, 
 in collaboration with whom these Memoirs have 
 been prepared, has been most pleasant, and the 
 friendship therefrom resulting I consider ample 
 compensation for the labour they entailed. To him 
 is due great credit for any merit the work may have. 
 My secretary, Mr. Guy C. Stover, has also been of 
 material assistance. 
 
 With gathering years one's circle widens, one 
 comes into contact with more of his fellows, 
 there is more in the retrospect, and I have always 
 believed that in a normal life one should grow 
 
Preface ix 
 
 happier with added years. This has been my 
 experience; and to those who read these words, 
 I send greetings from the sunset trail, with the 
 wish that they may find as much satisfaction as 
 I have had in association with others, and that 
 peace and happiness may attend them as they 
 tread the road that now stretches far behind me. 
 
 A. B. F. 
 
 York, Pa., 
 New Year's Day, 1922 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. The Quest of the Million-Dollak 
 
 Secret 1 
 
 II. The Early Days in Maryland . 20 
 
 III. Starting in Business .... 38 
 
 IV. I am " Captured " by Lincoln After 
 
 Having Sold York to the Rebels 62 
 
 V. The Business Side of War ... 84 
 
 VI. Building Up After the Civil War . 105 
 
 VII. Aside from Business .... 129 
 
 VIII. The Panic of 1873 145 
 
 IX. The New Era of Prosperity . . 165 
 
 X. Climbing Up Again 187 
 
 XI. Here and There and the Presi- 
 dents 206 
 
 XII. The Reasons for Business . . . 232 
 
 XIII. The Rise of Big Business . . . 252 
 
 XIV. Forging Ahead 275 
 
 XV. What I Have Learned .... 295 
 
 xi 
 
THE FIRST MILLION 
 THE HARDEST 
 
 An Autobiography 
 
The First Million the Hardest 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE QUEST OF THE MILLION-DOLLAR SECRET 
 
 EVERYONE remembers the remark of the 
 late Dr. William Osier that the initiative 
 comes from men under forty and that 
 older men might as well be chloroformed. Doctor 
 Osier was one of my warm friends and he asked 
 me to his home in Baltimore to dinner just before 
 leaving for his chair at Oxford some years ago. 
 He told me that he had gotten more reputation 
 out of what he said in fun than out of anything he 
 ever said in earnest — that he had jokingly advised 
 chloroform for a lot of elderly college professors at 
 an alumni dinner in an effort to jolly the younger 
 men. And then I asked him if he thought I should 
 retire — I was then approaching seventy. He 
 answered: 
 
 "No, you have not yet reached forty. The 
 years have nothing to do with it. It is one's mental 
 and physical condition that makes age. You will 
 probably be young as long as you live." 
 
 I have now behind me more than twice the fatal 
 
2 tTAe First Million the Hardest 
 
 forty years — on the calendar count; I have known 
 most of the great figures of the nation during the 
 last sixty years. I have seen the change from a 
 farming to a manufacturing country, and have seen 
 manufacturing grow from little-shop hand work to 
 great-shop machine work. Many of the things 
 that we use to-day and deem necessities were 
 unknown to business when I first entered it. Other 
 big figures have replaced the big figures of yester- 
 day, but because, according to the formula, I have 
 not yet reached forty, my interests are of to-day 
 and of the men of to-day. And I hold that yester- 
 day is important mainly as its experience becomes a 
 mentor for to-day. If it were not for that I would 
 drop yesterday and again be wholly as young 
 as on that day long ago when I started to New 
 York to ask A. T. Stewart, William B. Astor, 
 James Gordon Bennett, and several other noted 
 men the simple, direct question: "How can I make 
 a million dollars?" 
 
 That journey, which — in a very literal way — 
 marked my breaking into business life, happened 
 in 1858 before I was twenty. The modern recipes 
 for making a million dollars overnight and sold on 
 a subscription basis had not as yet been invented. 
 There were practically no books of business in- 
 struction; one just grew up, like Topsy, in business. 
 But I happened across an issue of Harper's Maga- 
 zine which described the successful men of New 
 York, and immediately became fired with the 
 
The Quest of the Million-Dollar Secret 3 
 
 notion that the way to get along in the world more 
 rapidly than the next fellow was to find the secrets 
 of those who had made the high scores. It was 
 not that I was greedy for money, for the whole 
 teaching of my father had been to the end that no 
 one could properly be called a man who let his love 
 for a dollar interfere with his love for a book — 
 which is a precept that has always stayed with 
 me. 
 
 But I did want to be successful in business, and 
 yet, though success in business is not measured 
 only in dollars, I then thought it was. Therefore, 
 the question which I thought would most attract 
 these several gentlemen and secure attention 
 exquisitely compressed that particular philosophy 
 of business life into: "How can I make a million 
 dollars ? " With that single query in mind I started 
 fresh from my home in Sandy Spring, Maryland, 
 to see the larger money kings of the nation on their 
 thrones in New York. 
 
 I was only a raw country lad but had had 
 the advantage of more than the usual amount 
 of education, for my father and mother, although 
 not at all wealthy, were exceptionally cultured 
 people, and the family had been trained in the 
 love of books and of study. I had never been 
 to New York, I had seen little of what is known 
 as life, and therefore it did not strike me as 
 at all an extraordinary proceeding to talk to the 
 country's rich men without the preliminary of an 
 
4 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 introduction. It never occurred to me that they 
 would not be ready to see me or glad to answer my 
 questions, for I had always been in contact with 
 people who were glad to see any one who happened 
 along and to answer their questions. Up to that 
 time asking questions had been my foremost occu- 
 pation. I do not ask so many now, but I still con- 
 sider that asking questions is about the most useful 
 way that a young man can put in his time — pro- 
 vided that he uses a reasonable amount of intelli- 
 gence in framing the questions and digesting the 
 answers. 
 
 That was a big, adventurous journey, and, by 
 to-day's standards, a hard one, for the trains were 
 slow, the stops frequent, and when one dozed off, 
 the yell came to change cars. Of course there 
 were no sleepers. It took, I think, fourteen hours 
 of travelling before the ferry from Jersey landed 
 me in what I thought was a very big city. It was 
 then seven in the morning. 
 
 The New York of to-day would regard that big 
 city as nothing but a fair-sized town. There were no 
 great buildings; few of any kind had more than three 
 stories. They were mostly of red brick and very 
 plain and solid. Some of the streets were roughly 
 paved but many were not much better than coun- 
 try roads and many were lined with trees. Above 
 Canal Street it was country and Canal Street was a 
 canal. I distinctly remember the boats on it. 
 All of this I saw incidentally. I had started to 
 
The Quest of the Million-Dollar Secret 5 
 
 New York to ask questions, and the moment I got 
 off the ferry I went to the old Astor Hotel, left my 
 bag, and without waiting for breakfast started for 
 William B. Astor's office, reaching there about 
 eight o'clock. 
 
 He had two little rooms; in the outer was an old 
 round-shouldered clerk and in the back room, 
 writing at a plain board table, was a heavy-set 
 man with a full face and bushy brows whom I 
 instantly recognized from the picture in the maga- 
 zine as Mr. Astor. The furniture was unpolished, 
 there were no decorations of any kind, and a rough 
 mental inventory gave me a value of about $20. 
 The old clerk glared at me without welcome and 
 growled: 
 
 "What do you want?" 
 
 "I want to see Mr. Astor." 
 
 "You cannot see him. He is busy," he growled 
 again, and then made a grab at my coat as I tried 
 to dive past him. I shook him off and landed 
 somewhat ruffled before the desk of the richest 
 man in the country. He had heard the scuffle and 
 looking up from his writing snapped: 
 
 "Well, boy, what do you want?" 
 
 I drew up a chair by him and said: "I want to 
 know how to make a million dollars." 
 
 Right away his testiness left him and he smiled 
 just a little as he answered ruefully : 
 
 "Do you want to make yourself as miserable as 
 I am, and stay up all day and half the night trying 
 
6 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 to keep people from cheating you? I never made 
 any money myself. It takes all my time to collect 
 rents and to see that people do not get away with- 
 out paying their rent." 
 
 Then he told me to sit down and he explained 
 how his father had thought that New York would 
 grow into a great city and had bought land cheaply 
 in what he believed would be the march of the city; 
 and then as time went on and streets were cut 
 through it, he had sold off all but the corners, and 
 these he had rented, and that he, the son, was 
 collecting the rents. He spoke about the power 
 of invested money and referred feelingly to what 
 would have happened if old Moses, as he called him, 
 had only put a penny out at interest and let it go 
 on compounding. 
 
 "But," he went on, "there is nothing in it. I 
 do not have enough fun. I am too afraid that 
 people will cheat me and, in spite of everything, they 
 do cheat me. If you really want to know how to 
 make money you had better go to see some of the 
 men who have made money and not waste time 
 with men who do nothing but try to keep and in- 
 crease what they have." I showed him the list of 
 men whom I expected to meet, copied from a maga- 
 zine. "Go over and see Stevens," said he, "at the 
 Bank of Commerce, whom you have on your list; 
 he may give you some good advice. See A. T. 
 Stewart; he has made his own money. And then 
 there is George S. Coe at the American Exchange 
 
The Quest of the Million-Dollar Secret 7 
 
 Bank: he is a nice fellow. And James Gordon 
 Bennett has good ideas." 
 
 I thanked him, and as I left he asked me: "Do 
 you expect to see all the men whose names you 
 have on your list?" 
 
 I replied, "Yes, I shall tell them that Mr. 
 Astor sent me." 
 
 "Don't do anything of the kind," he returned, 
 snappishly. 
 
 "I am going to anyhow," I answered, my cour- 
 age rising. " It is true, you did tell me to see them. " 
 He laughed a little and rejoined: 
 
 "All right, go ahead. You'll do." 
 
 Men went to their offices early in those days; 
 they used all of the daylight. Shortly after nine 
 o'clock I was at the office of John A. Stevens in the 
 Bank of Commerce, which is now the National 
 Bank of Commerce. Their four-story white mar- 
 ble building was almost the finest in the city and 
 to me very imposing. It stood at the corner of 
 Cedar and Nassau streets. To-day that is a busy 
 point with the great Equitable Building hard by 
 and more people passing in an hour than were then 
 apparently in all New York. Across from the 
 bank was an open square and above, at Liberty 
 Street, was the Post Office with a steeple and look- 
 ing more like a church than a public building. The 
 bank was then an important one but it was only 
 later during the Civil War that people found out 
 how really big a man President Stevens was; he 
 
8 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 many times came to the rescue of the Government 
 in the haphazard war financing. To my personal 
 knowledge he responded to a call of President Lin- 
 coln and assisted in financing the first $50,000,000 
 loan. 
 
 I told an attendant that Mr. Astor had sent me 
 over to see Mr. Stevens and at once he showed me 
 in. Mr. Stevens had a somewhat better desk 
 than Mr. Astor, but there was nothing of the mod- 
 ern bank president's furnishing about the place; it 
 was all very plain and without the slightest thought 
 that it was necessary to make a showing in dress 
 or in furnishings in order to give an impression 
 of financial stability. Mr. Astor had not been 
 dressed any better than his clerk and Mr. Stevens 
 might have been almost any one. In fact, of all the 
 men I met that day only A. T. Stewart dressed and 
 acted the part of the rich man. The others were 
 decidedly below my estimate of how a rich man 
 would be expected to dress and act. Since then 
 offices have changed and many men, and especially 
 bankers, find it advisable to surround themselves 
 with the appearance of wealth, but I find that the 
 .really great men of the country rarely have osten- 
 tatious offices, and I know of none who go in for 
 extravagance in dress. Now and then a man, when 
 moving his office, decides that the new office will be 
 something to make people sit up, and he hires a 
 decorator, gets the finest imaginable furniture — 
 and then hardly ever uses it. But to get back to 
 
The Quest of the Million-Dollar Secret 9 
 
 Mr. Stevens. He* was very cordial and he laughed 
 when I said: 
 
 "I just asked Mr. Astor how to make a million 
 dollars. Then I showed him the list of people I 
 had come to see, and he said you could give me 
 some good advice." 
 
 "I am in the same boat with Astor," said 
 Stevens. "I never made any money. All I do is 
 take care of the money that other people make. 
 The man for you to see is George S. Coe — and I 
 shall send you right over to him. I think he has 
 a board meeting this morning and if you get in 
 there you will meet a number of men who can tell 
 you more than I can." 
 
 With that he called a messenger and I was es- 
 corted around to the little building of the American 
 Exchange Bank. 
 
 George S. Coe was, I believe, the youngest bank 
 executive in New York, being then vice-president 
 and afterwards president of the bank. He, too, 
 seemed glad to see me — the Astor name had carried 
 me along — and he asked me to stay until the board 
 had met, when he would call me in. Fancy a 
 metropolitan bank president of to-day holding a 
 board together to talk with an unknown young 
 man who desired to learn how to make a million 
 dollars! But by that time I was quite at ease 
 in the higher financial circles. Of the men I met 
 at the bank I recall, besides Mr. Coe, only David 
 Hoadley, Charles J. Stedman, William C. Langley, 
 
10 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 and Edwin Thorne of the directorate — and Robert 
 S. Oakley the cashier. They all talked with me. 
 
 The code of those men was extremely simple; 
 they were traders rather than manufacturers — for 
 New York had already taken on its character of a 
 clearing house for the overseas commerce, although 
 as compared with to-day only in a small way — and 
 the most striking recipe for success which they had 
 to offer, as I remember, was about this: 
 
 "Take care of your character, never break a 
 promise, and give value for what you get. Avoid 
 speculation." An old man whom I met in the 
 bank and who I think was Hamilton Fish, put the 
 advice this way: 
 
 "If you never break a promise, if you always 
 pay the money you owe exactly on the day it is due, 
 nobody will know but that you are worth a million. 
 And you will be just as good a risk as a man worth 
 a million, for all that he could do would be to pay 
 on the due date." 
 
 They had no short cuts to suggest and curiously 
 enough, not one of them even spoke of technical 
 or other proficiency. They were concerned only 
 with fundamentals. I gathered from them that 
 if one were scrupulously honest, industrious, and 
 economical, then the other business qualities came 
 almost as of course — but without the fundamentals 
 nothing else mattered. In a word they confirmed in 
 me the lines that had been given to me in childhood 
 founded on the text that "God is not mocked" — 
 
The Quest of the Million-Dollar Secret 11 
 
 that is, that you cannot trifle with Nature's laws. 
 And after all that is about the best recipe for suc- 
 cess in business that exists. Having known many 
 of the larger business men of the country during 
 the last fifty years, I do not recall one who achieved 
 any measure of permanent success who did not 
 have these fundamental qualities. Men without 
 them, indeed, have sprung up but their success has 
 been ephemeral, and, although temperamentally 
 some of these older men could not have managed 
 the larger enterprises of to-day, the difference be- 
 tween them and to-day's successful men is only in 
 what might be called detail. 
 
 Those men were elemental; they did not work 
 through others as people do to-day. They did 
 everything themselves. They did not have secre- 
 taries. They did not, as I later learned, delegate 
 anything which required the exercise of discretion. 
 They signed every cheque and in many cases per- 
 sonally made up their bank deposits because the 
 handling of money was something which, it was 
 considered, should not be entrusted to another. 
 Stenographers or typewriters had not been heard 
 of, no system of letter-press copying had even been 
 invented. Even the busiest man wrote all his 
 shorter notes by hand. The longer letters he dic- 
 tated to a long-hand writer, and an active man 
 could, without difficulty, dictate to two clerks at 
 once. The clerk did not have to know a great deal, 
 but he did have to be able to write, not merely 
 
12 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 legibly, but attractively. A few of the big men had 
 letterheads with their names and addresses printed 
 on them, but the letters of the majority went out 
 on plain sheets of ruled paper. My impression is 
 that William B. Astor did not have a printed, 
 much less an engraved letterhead. Since the la- 
 bour of copying letters in full would have been 
 very great, only the highly important letters were 
 copied in full and memoranda of the contents of 
 the lesser letters taken. Sometimes the notes were 
 kept in a book, but more often on loose sheets of 
 paper, and, since there were no filing systems, 
 locating correspondence and data was purely a 
 matter of memory. 
 
 What made these men rich and powerful was not 
 only their scrupulous honesty and high character 
 but also, and this is a point I have never seen dwelt 
 upon, their extraordinary memories. There were 
 no bookkeeping systems, the books were elaborately 
 kept in so far as penmanship was concerned, but 
 really all they showed was income and outgo. 
 They showed nothing of costs and overhead ex- 
 penses and the really big merchant had to keep all 
 of his concerns right in his head. A merchant had 
 his business under his hat — no matter how great 
 were his interests. He knew what things cost, 
 what they ought to cost, what they ought to sell 
 for; he knew the accounts of all of his customers; 
 he did not deal with strangers; he knew his bank 
 balance from day to day, and his outstanding bills. 
 
The Quest of the Million-Dollar Secret 13 
 
 In fact, a great merchant kept in his head a good 
 part of what it now requires a considerable book- 
 keeping staff to collate, and it was the ability to 
 do all of this and to judge character and estimate 
 values as by intuition that distinguished the big 
 man from the little man. 
 
 From the bank meeting I went over to see the 
 founder of the New York Herald, James Gordon 
 Bennett, at the office near the old Astor House 
 on Broadway. Everybody at the bank meet- 
 ing had told me that by all means I should 
 see both Bennett and Stewart. I had no trouble 
 seeing Mr. Bennett. He was in a little office 
 all alone at a plain desk. I started to tell him 
 what I wanted but before I had said a half 
 dozen words and was just beginning to realize that 
 his remarkably keen eyes were looking right 
 through me, he broke in: 
 
 "Look here, young man, you look as though you 
 had not eaten breakfast." 
 
 So interested had I been in my quest that it had 
 not occurred to me to eat anything. Too many 
 other affairs of importance had been happening to 
 warrant bothering about breakfast. 
 
 "Whenever you see anyone," he went on, "you 
 ought to be at your best. You cannot be at your 
 best if you are hungry. Go out and get your 
 breakfast and then come back and we shall have a 
 talk. Give this card to the head waiter at the 
 Astor House." 
 
14 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 I went across the street, presented the card to 
 the head waiter who thereupon escorted me cere- 
 moniously to a seat and served me himself — which, 
 let me say, was a full-sized man's task, because 
 the moment I was seated at the table I began to 
 realize that I was just about as hungry as a boy can 
 be. While I ate, the head waiter stood beside me 
 and we talked about various men in New York, and 
 especially about Mr. Bennett. When I had finished 
 I asked for my bill and the waiter answered: 
 
 " There is nothing to pay. This is Mr. Bennett's 
 treat. He frequently sends people over here." 
 
 Then I went back to the Herald office filled with 
 a desire first of all to pay for my meal because I 
 could not see any reason why any one should spend 
 money on me. I started the subject with Mr. 
 Bennett but instantly he dismissed it. 
 
 "Nonsense!" he said, "let's talk about some- 
 thing important. The really important thing for 
 you to know as a young man is that you must bank 
 up a health account. Look at me, I am never sick. 
 I never take a vacation. I am here at the office 
 early in the morning and sometimes late at night. 
 But I always try to be in bed early enough to get a 
 good night's sleep. If you get plenty of sleep and 
 be careful of your diet you will never be sick." 
 
 And I think that advice is good. I have rarely 
 been ill, I am in perfect health to-day, and although 
 through many years I worked at least fifteen hours a 
 day, I always managed to get six hours of sound sleep , 
 
The Quest of the Million-Dollar Secret 15 
 
 and I still arrive at my office at seven in the morn- 
 ing. Franklin said that six hours is enough sleep 
 for a man, seven for a woman, eight for a fool. 
 
 All the men I had seen until then had been glad 
 to talk with me with the exception of Astor, and 
 he had warmed up after the first few seconds; but 
 they warned me that I might have trouble in see- 
 ing A. T. Stewart, who had a considerable reputa- 
 tion for austerity. I went to his establishment 
 and was shown to the floor on which he had his 
 office. Instead of being shut off in a little room by 
 himself, Mr. Stewart had his desk behind a glass 
 partition in the corner of a room of the lower floor, 
 which was filled with clerks. He had established 
 himself in a kind of observation post from which 
 he could see what everyone was doing. I asked 
 to be shown in to him but the attendant said that 
 was impossible, that Mr. Stewart had .either just 
 started or was about to start home for dinner and 
 could not be seen. He talked for a few minutes 
 and after I had used the name of Mr. Astor we 
 became quite friendly. He asked me if I would 
 know Mr. Stewart when I saw him and I told him 
 that I thought I could recognize him from his pic- 
 tures. Then he suggested this plan: 
 
 "He will have finished his dinner and will come 
 out of his house at exactly a quarter past one. 
 He will have a newspaper in his hand and he will 
 get on a bus. You get on the bus with him, get a 
 seat beside him, and when he looks up from his 
 
16 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 newspaper, but not before, then you start to talk 
 to him." 
 
 The plan worked, although I shivered as I 
 watched him reading the paper, for he appeared to 
 me a remarkably cold, stern, unapproachable look- 
 ing man. I do not know exactly what I said to 
 him at first, but he soon began to take an interest, 
 and more especially when I told him what other 
 prominent men had said of him. He talked rather 
 generally on character and on always attending 
 to your own affairs, and I went with him from the 
 bus to his office. 
 
 As we were passing one of the aisles a man was 
 sweeping up and Mr. Stewart's eye caught some 
 rags among the litter. Rags were much more 
 valuable then than to-day, because that was before 
 wood pulp was used in paper making. Imme- 
 diately he stopped, walked over to the sweeper and 
 in imperious voice reprimanded him for his waste- 
 fulness. Then we went on into the office and at 
 once I asked : 
 
 "Did it not use up more of your time to speak 
 to that sweeping man than the rags were worth?" 
 
 "That's true," he answered, "but you will notice 
 that I spoke so loudly that everyone in that room 
 heard what I said. I meant that they should, so 
 as to give them a lesson in saving, for money is 
 made by saving — saving and investing. You get 
 your profit out of the leaks that you stop." 
 
 He said that every penny which is saved ought 
 
The Quest of the Million-Dollar Secret 17 
 
 to be invested. The place to invest was in your 
 own business, up to the point that you can there 
 use the money profitably; that it was best to 
 save so that whenever your business needed money 
 you could provide it yourself and not have to bor- 
 row. I believe this is a principle which he scru- 
 pulously followed. I talked on various subjects 
 with him and his assistant, Mr. Libby. I then 
 asked Mr. Stewart if the report I had heard was 
 true, that in selecting assistants or men for import- 
 ant places he gave preference to men who had been 
 in business and failed. His reply was charac- 
 teristic. He said : 
 
 "It is a great advantage for an employer to have 
 men who have been in business for themselves and 
 who have failed. The mere fact that they start 
 in business shows that they have initiative and 
 ambition, which are very valuable qualities. The 
 fact that they fail on their own account shows 
 them that they are not competent to manage 
 their own affairs, and demonstrates to them that 
 their best interest lies in casting their lot with 
 those who know more about business than they 
 do and who have the advantage of both skill and 
 capital. This insures loyalty. 
 
 " Of course, these men must have failed honestly. 
 I always look into the facts of the failures carefully 
 and do not take a man whose business record is 
 bad, but if his failure has simply been due to an 
 inability to look after his own affairs and without 
 
18 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 any trace of sharp dealing, he is the best man for 
 me." 
 
 A. T. Stewart was the absolute master of his 
 business. As I have noted, all of the men I met 
 were the heads of one-man concerns. Astor was 
 the Astor estate; James Gordon Bennett was the 
 Herald. They were despots, absolute rulers, and 
 they were inclined to be paternal. It was uncon- 
 scious paternalism that caused Mr. Bennett to 
 give me a meal ticket. The most absolute and 
 stern in demeanour was A. T. Stewart. All of them 
 gave orders where the modern executive makes 
 suggestions. And, although these men were ele- 
 mental and meant to be kindly, they were, as I 
 compare them with the men of similar calibre to- 
 day, more arbitrary and in their business affairs 
 more self-centred. They worked with things 
 while the man of to-day works with people. They 
 were in the way of being pioneers, and I suppose a 
 pioneer gets pretty well calloused all over. They 
 were busy because they had none of the modern 
 facilities — although most of them were so jealous 
 of their personal power that I doubt if any would 
 have listened to the thought of delegating an es- 
 sential task. I think, taken all in all, however 
 much we may admire the characters and the gran- 
 ite firmness of these really big men, that the type 
 of big man to-day is more interested in humanity 
 and thinks considerably less of himself and more of 
 those about him. 
 
The Quest of the Million-Dollar Secret 19 
 
 I cannot help comparing those men with Mr. 
 Carnegie, although he, too, was supposed to belong 
 to the old school. One day about twenty-five 
 years ago we were talking about work. I told him 
 of my practice of reaching the office at seven in 
 the morning, and he remarked laughingly: 
 
 "You must be a lazy man if it takes you ten 
 hours to do a day's work. 
 
 "What I do," he said, "is to get good men, and 
 I never give them orders. My directions seldom 
 go beyond suggestions. Here in the morning I 
 get reports from them. Within an hour I have 
 disposed of everything, sent out all of my sugges- 
 tions, the day's work is done, and I am ready to 
 go out and enjoy myself." 
 
 And that, I think, is about the most striking 
 contrast between the men of yesterday and those 
 of to-day — and on the mere matter of making 
 money, Mr. Carnegie made more than all of the 
 men I have mentioned put together. They were 
 individualists — not managers. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 THE EARLY DAYS IN MARYLAND 
 
 THE trip to New York marked a turning 
 point in my life — the end of as healthy and 
 as natural a childhood as any boy ever 
 had. We lived in an old log house (afterward 
 weather-boarded) with a barn that had been built 
 some years before by one Ellis Pugh. It was 
 called Cedar Lawn because of the abundant growth 
 of cedars scattered through the grounds between 
 house and gate, and our neighbourhood about 
 the post office was known as Sandy Spring. 
 We were in Montgomery County, Maryland, 
 eighteen miles from Washington, and I remember 
 very distinctly the great bonfires at the barbecues 
 held at the end of the Harrison and Tyler campaign 
 in 1840 — although I was then but two years old. 
 And I remember in the next year, when Harrison 
 died, distinctly hearing the booming of the minute 
 guns as they were fired in Washington. 
 
 Washington meant a great deal in our lives, 
 even though it was only a sprawling village with 
 mud roads for streets and a population of less than 
 15,000. My father went to see Harrison's in- 
 auguration and every little while during my boy- 
 
 £0 
 
The Early Days in Maryland 21 
 
 hood I was taken there by him. Usually we took 
 a trip on the steamboat which had begun to ply 
 between Washington and Alexandria. I remem- 
 ber especially the great rocking beam as it swung 
 up and down, driving the side wheels, and I thought 
 it all very wonderful. 
 
 Sandy Spring, of which my father wrote the 
 "Annals" in 1882, is in its way a remarkable lit- 
 tle community. Its population was small then and 
 is not large now. The people are mostly Quakers 
 and descendants of the first settlers, and yet its 
 plain, modest country savings bank has deposits 
 now exceeding a million dollars. The prosperous 
 "Mutual Fire Insurance Company of Montgomery 
 County" has its principal office in Sandy Spring. 
 The County General Hospital, built in large meas- 
 ure by Sandy Spring capital, is located a mile 
 westward. 
 
 My father was a man of learning, having mas- 
 tered Latin at twelve and Greek at thirteen or four- 
 teen. He was unusually clever in mathematics, 
 and was an expert in botany and other sciences. 
 There seemed to be nothing in which he was not 
 interested; like the old Roman, he had a part in 
 everything human. Moncure Conway paid a 
 high tribute to his "all-around education." He 
 had never learned French, and came to Sandy 
 Spring when he was about twenty. Margaret 
 Briggs, who understood the language, under- 
 took to teach him French while he taught her 
 
22 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 to play chess. The bargain was duly carried 
 out, and naturally they fell in love and were 
 married. 
 
 Then they went to Alexandria, Virginia, and 
 my father taught school there for a year or two. 
 Then he was engaged as a civil engineer on the 
 railroad they were building between Baltimore 
 and Philadelphia, the Delaware & Susquehanna 
 Eailroad, now a part of the Pennsylvania system. 
 This lasted a year or two, and Mother meanwhile 
 remained at "Fair Hill" with her little daughter 
 Ellen, born about the time my father stopped 
 teaching school. 
 
 I was born at Cedar Lawn, on the same site 
 that is now occupied by my brother, half a mile 
 from the old "Sharon" house, the home of my 
 grandfather and great-grandfather, and still stand- 
 ing, having been put in repair by myself when I 
 bought the old homestead. The central portion 
 has substantially the same shape it had then. 
 (There had been additions to the original house 
 but they no longer remain.) The main entrance 
 room is entirely unchanged, and I can remember 
 as if it were yesterday my grandmother sitting 
 there by the open fire in the Franklin stove. 
 There were folding doors to cut off the draught 
 from a portion of the room. The mantelpiece 
 was made by my great-grandfather. At the time 
 he built the house one could have walked from it 
 to Canada without seeing a white settler. All was 
 
The Early Days in Maryland 23 
 
 woodland and wild waste. His was one of the 
 first houses built in the neighbourhood. 
 
 In those days swearing was considered a great 
 sin. The Negroes were very religious and I never 
 heard an oath among them. I never swore an 
 oath in my life. I was but a little chap — six 
 or seven years old — when these things were dis- 
 cussed, and I put swearing down as one of the 
 things I would never do. Those things which I 
 decided in my immature mind not to do I have not 
 done. We were taught the sacredness of the rela- 
 tion of the sexes and the respect that is due to 
 women. I remember an injunction my mother 
 gave me when I went on to York. She told me 
 never to forget the lessons taught at home but 
 that God would often seem far off in the heavens, 
 and I might forget His existence. But I should not 
 be likely to forget her existence, and I should re- 
 member that she was with me all the time. "Don't 
 do anything thee would be ashamed to do before 
 me." I have always endeavoured to keep that 
 rule. In fact, without being impressed by dog- 
 matism, I believe in the essentials of religion and I 
 have tried to live a perfectly moral life. 
 
 Another conclusion we reached was that one 
 must give value for value received; that we have 
 no right to anything in this world unless we give 
 value for it. There are a thousand ways to give 
 value. You can be agreeable and a comfort to 
 your parents, and by being kind to them and 
 
24 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 never causing them any worry or trouble, you can 
 repay them for what they lavished upon you before 
 you were old enough to earn your way. 
 
 When we grew older each of us children had a 
 daily task assigned. This was not usual in our 
 section, where Negroes were expected to do all the 
 work. We, however, were taught that work 
 was honourable, and that by the sweat of our brow 
 we must live. We were commanded to do our 
 duty and earn what we could in some form or 
 other. Ours were devoted parents, very fond of 
 us children, and wishing us to have a good time, 
 but during the vacations we had our several tasks 
 in the morning and there were only the afternoons 
 for play. Of course we enjoyed the vacations more 
 than if we had been idle. I usually spent my after- 
 noons in the shop provided for me in my father's 
 barn, where there were a lathe and other tools. 
 
 Down in the woods we had a dam, and I remem- 
 ber that when eight or nine years old I made a 
 boat. I was always tinkering with machinery or 
 making something, and finally I could make wheel- 
 barrows and other things used about the farm. I 
 started experimenting with a threshing machine 
 when about twelve years old, and worked on that 
 threshing machine until I went to York, but I 
 could never get it into practical shape. The anxiety 
 to make a thresher that would work had a great 
 deal to do with my eventually going to York as an 
 apprentice in a shop that made threshers. 
 
The Early Days in Maryland 25 
 
 The people in Sandy Spring were very sociable. 
 I have known a dozen to come to our house in 
 their sleighs during the winter, or in buggies when 
 the road was open, without any advance notice 
 at all. Sometimes cook might be away and 
 sometimes we had none — but they would come ex- 
 pecting to take supper. Half a dozen of the girls 
 would go out in the kitchen and all in the greatest 
 good humour cook the supper. The Maryland 
 biscuit was usually a prominent feature of the sup- 
 per. It was not long before the meal was ready, and 
 after it they all pitched in again and cleared away 
 the dishes ; and they seemed to enjoy lending a hand. 
 
 Then we would have games, one of the chief of 
 which was asking conundrums or giving questions to 
 be solved. My mother had marvellous facility in 
 answering any question that was asked, no matter 
 what it was, more quickly than anybody else. 
 While the others would all be sitting around pon- 
 dering what was the answer, she would have a smile 
 on her face, and was practically always able to give 
 it. She had to be silent on many occasions in order 
 to give the others a fair chance. We would gather 
 chestnuts and roast them in the open fire, and have 
 them for refreshments. Often there was a quilting 
 party. Everyone was expected to have a number 
 of quilts, and they were made of all sorts of patches 
 and odds and ends of dress material, the women 
 and girls of the neighbourhood gathering to sew 
 them together. 
 
26 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 My uncle, Isaac Briggs, was an athlete and 
 very fond of nature and of walks — and I recollect 
 as a little boy hearing him describe trips he had 
 taken to the " Far West " which in those days meant 
 as far as Indiana or Illinois. He said that on one 
 of these trips he came to a little cabin where he 
 stopped for the night, as was the custom in those 
 days, since there were no hotels. He was wel- 
 comed, given his supper, and put to bed in a garret 
 room. He always carried a flintlock pistol, which 
 he kept under his pillow at night to protect 
 himself. That was a lonely cabin and during 
 the night he was awakened by the door stealthily 
 opening; then a man crept in. He held a big, 
 shining knife. My uncle could see him by the 
 moonlight through the window and silently reached 
 for his pistol and made ready. The man stepped 
 up to the bed, raised the knife and — just as my 
 uncle was about to fire he reached up to cut down a 
 piece of dried meat which was hanging from the 
 rafters overhead! After that, the horror of hav- 
 ing been so near killing a man made him resolve 
 never again to carry a firearm. 
 
 Uncle Isaac was full of stories, and ever ready to 
 tell me his adventures. I once asked: "Uncle Isaac, 
 what do you do when you get tired?" He said: 
 
 "Sonny, when I get tired on the road I just 
 pick up a big rock and put it on my shoulder and 
 carry it a piece, and when I throw it off, then I feel 
 rested again." 
 
The Early Days in Maryland 27 
 
 He knew snakes, which were poisonous and 
 which were not, and often had a snake or two with 
 him. He had learned that there are very few 
 poisonous snakes. He came into a quilting party 
 . one night with his hat (he always wore a high 
 hat) on his head and full of snakes, and placed it 
 with the brim down in the centre of the quilt. 
 Then the snakes began to crawl out over the 
 quilt, frightening the women but amusing him 
 mightily. 
 
 Life in those days, looking back, seems to have 
 been entirely free from friction or anything to 
 make one unhappy. We lived so simply. There 
 were no moving pictures, no shows, and no amuse- 
 ments, as we know them to-day. We took great 
 delight in simple games, we had simple clothes. 
 A box of candy was considered a magnificent 
 thing. We always had doughnuts for Christmas 
 breakfast up to the time I left home — they became 
 so inseparably associated with Christmas in my 
 mind that we used to have them for a good while 
 after I came to York. It was only a few years 
 ago that we stopped having doughnuts for Christ- 
 mas breakfast, as a reminder of old times. 
 
 When I was about twelve years old my father, 
 in connection with his sister, started a ladies' 
 boarding school at Fair Hill, near Olney (formerly 
 known as Mechanicsville), which became quite 
 celebrated. He ran the farm too and made his 
 family very comfortable, incurred no debts, and 
 
28 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 he left a substantial property when he died, of 
 which I refused to accept any part, turning my 
 share over to my mother and sister. 
 JL> In our family, besides my sister Ellen, were my 
 " ^ *r\ brothers Hallowell, Edward, Henry (first), Henry 
 ^"^v-,' (second), and Allan. Henry first was a genius 
 and Edward came nearly being a genius in "all- 
 ^tS around knowledge, ' ' while Henry second, now living, 
 ' *" is a mathematical expert. Once, when Edward 
 was, as I remember, only seven or eight years old, 
 /v ^ we missed him for many hours and finally found 
 V him in the evening out in the woods. He had 
 with him a copy of "Paradise Lost, " which he had 
 been busy memorizing. After a short time, per- 
 ' v haps a few weeks, he committed the whole of this 
 poem to memory. He repeated it to us when we 
 found time to listen. But the real genius of the 
 .' ,: family was the first Henry, who died before he was 
 four years old. I was about eleven but he helped 
 me with my lessons. He seemed to know things 
 ' , intuitively. My father and mother did not know 
 that that boy could read at all until one evening 
 when he was about two and a half years old, 
 - Richard Bentley, a friend of ours, came in and 
 . ' took the boy on his knee — he was a pretty boy and 
 - very bright and agreeable. Mr. Bentley had 
 , a book in his hand. Henry looked it over and 
 said, "That is page 22." Mr. Bentley said, "How 
 do you know it is 22?" Henry said, "It is two 
 tens and two units." Then he commenced to 
 
The Early Days in Maryland 29 
 
 read. Everyone was much surprised, except sister 
 Ellen and myself. When our caller exclaimed: 
 
 "Why, William Henry," (my father's name) "this 
 child can read," my father answered, "Oh, no, 
 he has a wonderful memory, and he hears his 
 brother and sister read and has picked it up 
 from them." Sister and I said: 
 
 "Yes, he can," and we handed him the book 
 and he read it right off. 
 
 No boy I have ever heard of showed more in- 
 dications of real genius. He was unusually pre- 
 cocious, was very attractive, and had a queer way 
 of every morning saying, "I will be brother 
 Arthur's boy to-day," or "I will be sister Ellen's 
 boy to-day, " or Father's boy, or Mother's boy, and 
 then attaching himself to that person with great de- 
 votion during the whole of the day. He was taken 
 with scarlet fever, which was then a new malady, or 
 at least rare, and was not at first recognized as 
 dangerous. We did not send for the doctor at once. 
 One of us asked him, "Well, Harry, whose boy will 
 you be to-day?" He replied, "I believe I will be 
 my Father in Heaven's boy to-day." He died that 
 night. That was the first real grief I had. His death 
 cast a lasting gloom over the whole household. 
 
 Edward was next to him and about three years 
 older. Father stopped Edward's lessons and 
 would not let him study at all until he was six years 
 old. I remember that on Edward's sixth birth- 
 day he got up early in the morning and said: 
 
30 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 "To-day I can study and can learn to read." 
 
 Father was unfortunately away that day and 
 Edward was in a great state about it until Father 
 came home in the evening, when Edward jumped 
 on his lap and said: 
 
 "Thee promised I could read to-day." And 
 before he went to bed he was hard at work at a 
 book. 
 
 Our home atmosphere was distinctly intellec- 
 tual. Father taught a class in French which used 
 to come to our house, and several college students 
 came to be coached in different studies. My 
 brother Edward never went to college, but seemed 
 to gain knowledge almost by absorption; he finally 
 mastered thirteen languages including Sanscrit. 
 
 I never saw a drunken man in the neighbourhood. 
 The Negroes seemed all to be happy and we had 
 no slavery among the Quakers. There were but 
 very few slaves within five miles of us, though we 
 were in a slave state. Yet bitter as was the feel- 
 ing against the Abolitionists, there seemed to be 
 little and comparatively mild opposition to the 
 Friends. The New York Tribune was forbidden 
 by law to come into the State of Maryland, and 
 the Postmaster told Father he could not have his 
 Tribune. Father liked to read all sides ; in those days 
 of comparatively few newspapers he took many, 
 including a French paper. He wanted the Tribune 
 because he liked old Horace Greeley. He believed 
 that the Constitution of the United States gave him 
 
The Early Days in Maryland 31 
 
 the right to receive the paper, and that Maryland 
 could not legally forbid his getting it. He went 
 to Washington, saw the Postmaster General, 
 and got an order that the Tribune should be 
 delivered to him. 
 
 Father maintained that the Negroes should 
 be taught to read, while it was still against 
 the state law. In one instance a coloured min- 
 ister in the neighbourhood was attacked for read- 
 ing over the lines of the hymns to Negroes. A 
 mob of people came across from the county seat, 
 broke up the meeting, and drove him off. I was 
 very indignant at this, and told the congregation 
 to come up to my little shop in the barn and I 
 would teach them, which a number of them did; 
 and although the mob came up and surrounded 
 the shop, I was not molested, owing to the great 
 regard that everyone had for my father. 
 
 I was very much interested in ancient history, 
 especially in the Greeks, and was particularly fond 
 of Socrates and of Plato's "Republic," but Aris- 
 totle was then and is still my hero. As a youth 
 I was a strong partisan of Hector, and was bitterly 
 opposed to Achilles. I could hardly have been more 
 than four years old when I decided that people who 
 would admit a wooden horse as a matter of cour- 
 tesy deserved to be better treated than were the 
 people of Troy, that to accept the courtesy and 
 fill the horse with soldiers with the object of 
 destroying those who extended hospitality was a 
 
32 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 wicked thing. One of the earliest things I re- 
 member was my grandmother (who was very fond 
 of poetry) repeating Pope's Homer's Iliad to me. 
 She used to sing me to sleep with it. I would 
 wander off by myself through the woods at four 
 or five years old and study and think. I know 
 I was not over five or six years old when I began 
 to have spells of thinking that the world was a 
 failure — there was so much unhappiness in it, and 
 so much cruelty. It would break my heart to see 
 a horse struck or a child teased or imposed upon, 
 or any advantage taken of the helpless. I was 
 much distressed because a cat was drowned by a 
 neighbour for killing a favourite bird. I used to 
 play with that cat and I did not think it was just 
 to kill a creature that did not know any better. 
 As I grow older those childish impressions come 
 back, my love for the classical writings revives, 
 and in feeling I renew my early boyhood. 
 
 My sister was smarter than I; she learned to 
 read at five while I did not learn until I was nearly 
 seven. We were taught at home until I was 
 about eight or nine years old, and then went to a 
 log schoolhouse about a mile off near the Sandy 
 Spring Meeting House. That was the only school 
 for miles around; some of the boys and girls walked 
 five or six miles to and from school every day. We 
 all took our lunches along and would play at 
 recess when the weather was fine, and when rain- 
 ing and stormy we would sit around in the school- 
 
The Early Days in Maryland 33 
 
 house and repeat poetry and other things we had 
 learned. The poetry I learned then I know still. 
 Lochinvar who "came out of the West" was one 
 of my favourites. 
 
 The evenings were often spent in reading aloud 
 by one of the family. "David Copperfield" was 
 read as it was published, and the numbers reached 
 us, and "Jane Eyre" similarly. And we had 
 Washington Irving besides. A good many other 
 books were read which were rather abstruse for 
 me, but my sister and the rest could understand 
 them. 
 
 The memory of our happy home life seventy- 
 five years ago is as fresh in my mind as though the 
 events had happened yesterday. The habit of 
 early rising has continued with me; I still usually 
 wake up at half -past four. 
 
 Our home life was very happy. My father 
 farmed, was a surveyor when a job offered, and 
 also he delivered lectures around the country, but 
 always he managed to get home evenings and 
 then we would sit together around the open fire- 
 place. Wood was cheap and plentiful and the 
 fires were always roaring. He would tell us stories 
 or we would read books aloud by candlelight. My 
 father nearly always was the one who read aloud. 
 Many times I have seen my mother mending 
 stockings, rocking the cradle, with an open book 
 before her. Afterward when Father began to be 
 called off more and more, for lectures and one thing 
 
34 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 or another, and began to get home later at night, 
 and we children had to go to bed at eight or nine 
 o'clock, we adopted the plan of getting up at five 
 o'clock in the morning and having an hour then 
 in which we would all gather round the fire in the 
 sitting room upstairs and have discussions or re- 
 ligious exercises — or moral (rather than religious) 
 discussions. Morality was regarded as the basis 
 of religion. Such questions would come up as: 
 "Is it ever right to deceive or tell a falsehood?" 
 I recollect one argument on this question which 
 ran thus: "If you were sailing in a boat with a lot 
 of people and a squall sprang up, and the only 
 possible way to get safely to the other side was 
 for everybody to sit quiet, would it be proper, if 
 some of the people became scared and asked if 
 there was any danger, to tell them there was no 
 danger?" Father held this would not be a lie at 
 all, for there would be no danger if only they all 
 kept perfectly still. He took the stand that it 
 was frequently proper and right not to tell the 
 whole truth, but he could conceive of no case in 
 which it was necessary to tell a downright lie. 
 Questions like this used to be discussed in their 
 moral bearings. 
 
 The thing that impressed me the most was the 
 idea that God is not mocked, nor could we trifle 
 with His Laws without suffering; and that we must 
 suffer the proper penalty if ever we transgressed 
 the laws of health, or morality, or whatever else 
 
The Early Days in Maryland 35 
 
 had a bearing on our physical or moral life. This 
 made a lasting impression upon me. I was of a 
 philosophical turn of mind anyhow, and I con- 
 cluded that if Nature exacted a penalty for broken 
 laws, it was very important to learn what the laws 
 were and how not to break them. 
 
 I remember having taken the side that a bad 
 promise was better broken than kept, because if 
 it was bad it ceased to be a promise. The lesson 
 that I thus learned proved of advantage in a talk 
 I had with President McKinley. He had prom- 
 ised two Senators the appointment of a certain 
 official — the Minister to the Argentine, which 
 position was then filled by W. I. Buchanan — a 
 good man, but an appointee of Cleveland's — and 
 although the proposed new appointee was not a fit 
 man, the President insisted that he had made the 
 promise and could not break it. I used the same 
 argument with him that I used in winning my case 
 as a boy of ten or twelve years old — that a bad 
 promise is not a promise. Buchanan was retained, 
 and my own friendship and respect for the 
 President greatly increased. 
 
 The influence of those mornings, which were 
 continued from my ninth year until I left home 
 at eighteen, was of immense service. We always 
 went over our lessons in the evening. With 
 the regular school rudiments, we studied in 
 addition French and German, and my three 
 brothers had Latin. Latin and Greek never 
 
36 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 appealed to me so much because they were known 
 as dead languages, and my practical mind revolted 
 from taking up anything that was dead. I merely 
 touched the Greek language, and gave but little 
 attention to Latin. 
 
 My schooling in earnest, however, began at 
 fifteen, when I went to the celebrated Alexandria 
 Boarding School in charge of Benjamin Hallo- 
 well, who was well known in educational circles 
 throughout the country. He gave the school a 
 high reputation, and there were even some college 
 graduates there who had frittered away their time 
 at college and came back to learn something. 
 Robert E. Lee was a pupil with my father in the 
 earlier days, and his son with me thirty years after. 
 Miss Mary Lee told me when I met her in Norfolk 
 during the Jamestown Exposition, that her father 
 had spoken of that school as having furnished the 
 most important part of his education. 
 
 In school vacations I made a turning lathe be- 
 cause I loved mechanics. My father came to the 
 shop and said, "My son, thy time is wasted in 
 trying to do something thee cannot accomplish." 
 But being a just man he called in a master me- 
 chanic of the neighbourhood, who said, "The boy 
 is on the right track; let him go ahead," and I 
 finished the lathe with his assistance, and it proved 
 a success. I would always work at something con- 
 structive rather than play, though I liked town 
 ball and chess. We took long walks in the woods, 
 
The Early Days in Maryland 37 
 
 and studied the trees — learning to know them by 
 the bark, the leaf, and the wood. 
 
 When I finished my course at Alexandria I took 
 the management of my father's farm for a year, 
 which served to renew my interest in agricultural 
 machinery. , 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 STARTING EST BUSINESS 
 
 I WAS always interested in mechanics and had 
 looked forward to becoming a manufacturer. 
 I wanted to do something at once in a big way, 
 but my father had too much common sense to per- 
 mit anything of the kind. He told me that I 
 could not start off full-blown but that I should 
 have to learn a trade, learn all about the work 
 from the worker's standpoint, before I could even 
 think of directing anybody, and by the time I was 
 through with that introduction to manufacturing 
 we should be in a position to judge if I were fitted 
 for manufacturing. I should say, in passing, that 
 in those days there was more respect and reverence 
 shown toward parents and older people than is 
 the fashion to-day. 
 
 Having been regarded as a student and a lover 
 of poetry and romance my acquaintances laughed 
 at the notion that I could make a success as a 
 mechanic. I was inclined to hitch my wagon to a 
 star and my thought was to become a manufacturer 
 in my own right. They thought I was merely going 
 to be a machinist. My plans to them would have 
 seemed like preparing for a trip to the moon. 
 
 88 
 
Starting in Business 39 
 
 My father having friends there, the most favour- 
 able place to begin appeared to be York. I went 
 down to Laurel in the stage, took the train for 
 Baltimore, where I was met by my uncle, John 
 Elgar. A darky carried my trunk on his head 
 down to the store of Anderson & Jessop, Mr. 
 Edward Jessop being a friend of the family. From 
 Baltimore I came to York on Friday evening, 
 April 4, 1856, with Mr. Edward Jessop, whose 
 daughter was later to become my wife. The first 
 time I saw her was when we reached his home. 
 They kindly took care of me at their home over 
 Saturday and Sunday, when I got a boarding place 
 at the house of a widow, Mrs. Alex. Immel, who 
 charged me $2.50 a week, which included room, 
 board, and washing. Mrs. Immel was very kind 
 to me. I had a beautiful room, carpeted with Brus- 
 sels carpet, a large wardrobe, and was very com- 
 fortably and nicely fixed. 
 
 On the morning of April 7th at 7 o'clock I 
 entered the shop of W. W. Dingee & Co., manu- 
 facturers of agricultural implements, and was duly 
 indentured as a machinist's apprentice, but with 
 the provision that I might leave when I felt quali- 
 fied to commence business for myself. It was my 
 intention to learn the business in all its phases. 
 It was a little place employing about ten workmen; 
 we thought of it as rather a large shop. According 
 to modern ideas it was not much of a shop although 
 it was fairly well equipped with lathes, a planer, 
 
40 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 and some woodworking machinery. A man to be 
 a machinist then had to be able to do almost any- 
 kind of metal work. He had to know how to 
 chip and file to nearly the accuracy of a modern 
 planer. The absolute mastery of the chisel and 
 the file was essential before a man could think of 
 calling himself a machinist. We had lathes and 
 drill presses and forges, but only one small planer. 
 Adjustments were made by hand; there were no 
 automatic machines. There were no turret lathes 
 to perform half a dozen operations without re- 
 adjustment. Each operation was a separate en- 
 tity for which the mechanic had to select the 
 proper tool. 
 
 He not only had to select his tools and keep them 
 properly ground, but in most cases he had to make 
 them himself. We had no designated tool makers; 
 every machinist was expected to know how to make 
 his own tools. Indeed, as there were few first- 
 class tools to be had, most of the machinery we 
 needed we made there too, the shop buying the 
 raw material. Practically everything entering 
 into the product, including bolts, etc., was made 
 on the premises. 
 
 It was the men's custom to play pranks on a 
 new apprentice. He had to go through something 
 not unlike a college hazing. After I had been there 
 a little while and had been subjected to the usual 
 run of fairly rough but good-natured fun, just as 
 I was leaving the shop one evening I saw one of 
 
Starting in Business 41 
 
 the workmen take off the brass plate containing 
 a list of the special gearing of the lathe needed for 
 cutting screws. He knew I had to cut a number 
 of different threads the following morning. I saw 
 that he wished to put me in a hole and make me 
 call for help. Not wishing to be made a butt, I 
 went down to the shop that night, calculated the 
 gears necessary for the screws, marked them with 
 chalk, and the next morning put them properly 
 together without assistance from any one. That 
 was considered by my fellow workmen as a feat 
 approaching the marvellous, for they had never 
 calculated the gears, but had placed them solely 
 from the schedule on the brass plate and they 
 thought that if once they took this plate off, no 
 one could put them on again correctly unless he 
 remembered the old order. They knew nothing 
 of the mathematics of gears. I treated the matter 
 indifferently as a matter of course. After that I 
 was never bothered. 
 
 The employees became my warm friends. I 
 think I managed to get the worker's point of view 
 and that I have never lost it. We all called each 
 other by our first names. In these days, and 
 after I commenced business, I always knew my 
 men by their given names, and none of the men in 
 the early stages of my business so much as thought 
 of "mistering" me. That was the custom in the 
 old times and I think it would have been difficult 
 for the old-time employer to persuade men to work 
 
42 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 for him if he had insisted upon any formality. 
 Men belonged to the shop where they had started 
 to work. Usually they had started their appren- 
 ticeship there and they continued to stay in that 
 ship as long as it continued business. Labour 
 turnover was almost negligible. When a man left 
 his job everybody around wanted to know what 
 was the matter. One afternoon a machinist came 
 to us in high dudgeon from another shop and asked 
 for a job. We wanted to know what was the 
 matter, at once — why had he left his old place? 
 We never "stole" employees. 
 
 "It was this way," he said. "The boss was out 
 walking with a lady the other night and I passed 
 him and said, 'How do you do, Harry?' and the 
 next day he came around to me and said, 'When 
 I am out walking with a lady in the evening I 
 don't want you to speak to me.' I won't work 
 for a man who acts that way." 
 
 The men were always interested in their work. 
 It was a very usual thing for two or three workmen 
 to start out in the evenings or on holidays to walk 
 out in the country just to see how a machine they 
 had made was working. For when a man made any- 
 thing he considered it his own; he felt personally 
 disgraced if it did not work well. A lot of the 
 machinery we made in that shop was scattered 
 around the country near York, and I venture to 
 say that every man in the shop knew just how 
 each machine was performing. Thus were the 
 
Starting in Business 43 
 
 creative instinct and a genuine interest in the 
 employer's business fostered — the desire to make 
 a machine that would do the work for which it 
 was designed, and do it well. Therefore, as a 
 rule, the workmen could be depended upon to 
 exercise their best judgment and skill on the work 
 in hand. 
 
 As contrasted with the worker of to-day I think 
 the older workman was happier because his wants 
 were less, but there is no question in my mind 
 but that he was materially not nearly so well 
 off as is the man of to-day. The older man had 
 more skill of hand. He depended on his own inge- 
 nuity rather than on the ingenuity of his tools. He 
 worked by rule of thumb. When we laid out a 
 machine we drafted to full size on a big wooden 
 board and the men measured from that and not 
 from a blue print. We had no blue prints, and I 
 doubt if any of the men could have worked from 
 scale. They had great skill of hand and eye, and, 
 while their minds were actively employed upon 
 the work in hand, there was comparatively slight 
 emphasis put upon saving labour or speeding 
 production. There was little planning ahead or 
 thought of sequence of operations, and no idea 
 of saving steps. 
 
 We kept out of one another's way more or less 
 by habit, and although we worked hard from 
 seven in the morning until six at night, a great 
 deal of this time was wasted waiting for a turn to 
 
44 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 sharpen tools at a grindstone, or getting together 
 to move some heavy piece of material, or hunting 
 for needed tools or material, and naturally we got 
 far less accomplished than to-day with improved 
 tools and methods. The workers as a rule lived 
 in comfortable little houses, but none of these 
 houses had conveniences as we know them. The 
 first bathroom with toilet accessories was intro- 
 duced in a York house about sixty-four years ago, 
 and people said a man who would put such things 
 in his house lacked a sense of decency. Nearly 
 every house had its own garden; the people were 
 contented and managed to supply their modest 
 wants. 
 
 The wage of a mechanic did not at that time in 
 York average more than 90 cents to a dollar a day. 
 George Reisinger was then looked up to as the 
 highest-paid machinist in the factory in which I 
 worked, or indeed in the town of York, and he 
 got $1.12 a day. On this the men could live, for 
 most things were very cheap, although tea, coffee, 
 and sugar, termed luxuries then, were more ex- 
 pensive than they had been up to the time of the 
 runaway prices of the great war. Wages were 
 low, but people, as a rule, were very much more 
 economical. What were regarded as luxuries 
 then are looked upon as necessities now. Their 
 wants were few and simple. 
 
 They had plenty of amusement but little of it 
 cost anything. The church was the usual centre 
 
Starting in Business 45 
 
 where they got their recreation, although, being in 
 a country district, they frequently went off shoot- 
 ing or fishing — more often fishing than shooting, 
 for firearms were expensive. A suit of clothes 
 would serve a man, first, as his Sunday best, and 
 next, as a working suit, for years. On week days 
 they did not so much care how they looked and 
 the ordinary working suit was not discarded until 
 entirely worn out — until there were no places 
 left on which to hang patches. In summer some 
 of the men and practically all of the children went 
 barefooted. A woman's best dress — and it was 
 the care of every woman to have one best dress to 
 be worn on special occasions only — was expected 
 to do for years. Fashions were much less des- 
 potic than to-day. But really, clothing was not 
 expensive. Nearly all women made their own 
 dresses, and if they did not make them in the first 
 place they were made by a local dressmaker and 
 then made over every few years by the lady herself. 
 I remember the wife of the richest man in York 
 telling us one day when I remarked, "You look 
 as if you had just jumped out of a bandbox," that 
 every visible thing she had on cost less than $10. 
 She, of course, made her clothing herself, including 
 her hat. 
 
 When a man wanted a suit, first he bought the 
 cloth, and then he hired a tailor to make it. 
 Tailors made suits; they did not sell cloth. Just 
 before I was married I bought some fine cloth and 
 
46 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 took it to Marcus Carroll, our fashionable tailor, 
 to be made up. He felt it carefully and said : 
 
 "This is such a fine piece of goods I shall have 
 to charge you a little extra for making it up. I 
 usually charge about $2.00 for the buttons and 
 the making; however, I think I ought to charge 
 you about $2.75 for this, seeing that it is your 
 wedding suit, but I shall split the difference and 
 do it for $2.50, if that is all right." 
 
 I was married on the 26th of September, 1860, 
 to Elizabeth N. Jessop, daughter of my father's 
 friend, Edward Jessop. Since I have no words 
 to express the blessing which the daily companion- 
 ship of my wife has brought me, I will not attempt 
 it. It is my great good fortune to have her with 
 me still. Without her, life would be for me a 
 barren waste. 
 
 Sixty years ago, after I was married, we paid 
 $84 a year for a very comfortable house, a do- 
 mestic servant could be had for $3 a month and 
 board, a washer-woman charged but twenty- 
 five cents a day, coming early in the morning and 
 doing the ironing in the afternoon, while farm- 
 hands were rarely paid more than $10 a month. 
 When I travelled about the country, selling, the 
 ordinary country hotel would charge me for a night's 
 lodging, supper, breakfast, the feeding and stabling 
 of my horse and buggy, the large sum of $1.50. 
 A good hotel in Baltimore charged twenty-five 
 cents a night for a room. Delmonico's in New 
 
Starting in Business 47 
 
 York was considered almost the ultimate in ex- 
 pense because they charged $2.50 a day for a 
 room and meals on the American plan. The 
 Astor charged $2 a day for the same service. 
 
 Our life was simple. We had very little — but 
 we wanted very little. The average imagination 
 did not go far. Only the exceptional workman 
 ever expected to be an employer. In most cases 
 he knew that, in the ordinary run of events, he 
 would not have money enough to set up for himself, 
 although goodness knows that did not take much 
 money. Perhaps what held him back more than 
 a lack of money was his fear of failure. The men 
 were independent in the popular sense of not 
 kow-towing to any one, but they were very de- 
 pendent as far as money was concerned, and affairs 
 were conducted on such a small scale that the 
 possibility of even the employer acquiring a great 
 fortune was considered remote. A man who was 
 worth $20,000 or $25,000 in those days was con- 
 sidered quite well off. All sorts of expedients 
 were used to save money. I remember one of the 
 richest men in town — a book lover — used to order 
 an occasional book in Baltimore and ask my 
 father-in-law to bring it up with him when he 
 came home Friday evenings, in order to save the 
 expressage. Street cars would have been of no 
 use in those days. Nobody would have ridden 
 in them. It would have been too costly a pleas- 
 ure — or convenience. 
 
48 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 The employer dressed a little better than his 
 workers and he had a little better house, and if 
 he were successful he had some money in the 
 bank, but the average employer had not a notice- 
 ably larger mental outlook than the employee and 
 very few of them were forward-looking. Usually 
 they thought that the way to do anything was 
 the way it had been done before. They were 
 very suspicious of new ideas. 
 
 I often hear to-day of radical and other speak- 
 ers who, expounding the Marx doctrines that in 
 the present organization of society the condition 
 of the worker will constantly become lower and 
 the condition of the employer constantly higher, 
 speak of those older days as though they con- 
 tained more than does to-day for the worker. 
 That is entirely untrue. The growth of capital, 
 the growth' of labour-saving machinery, and the 
 numerous aids to the power of a man's hand have, 
 it is true, caused fortunes to be accumulated. 
 Many rich men have been created, but all the 
 wealth of the rich people is a negligible sum as 
 compared with what these instruments of capital 
 have done for the wealth of the worker in mass. 
 
 If the workman of to-day does not save it is 
 his own fault. The expert machinist as he sur- 
 vives to-day frequently has a good house and he 
 would scorn to live in the houses of the highest 
 paid of the old machinists. He has conveniences 
 which he regards as necessities that the older man 
 
Starting in Business 49 
 
 never even thought of, much less acquired. He 
 has books if he wants them, he has access to any 
 amount of free education. His children have 
 the advantages of free schools. Horace Mann 
 and Thaddeus Stevens had not yet introduced 
 the free-school system in the early days to which 
 I have been referring. If his children have to 
 support him in his old age, as a rule it is only be- 
 cause he has not been economical. Those children 
 receive a better education than many of the 
 children of the wealthy sixty years ago. 
 
 To-day as between the larger employer and the 
 worker there is more distinction of wealth than 
 there was in the earlier period. There is less 
 shared interest in work. The employer is not 
 nearly so close to his men and probably neither 
 the employer nor the employee is as happy as he 
 used to be. But that is because we all have more 
 — not less; it is more difficult to satisfy the com- 
 plex tastes of to-day than it was to satisfy the 
 very simple ones of half a century or more ago. 
 Happiness is said to be a freedom from want. We 
 have all been educated to want more. Both the 
 worker and the employer of to-day know of more 
 things that they would like to have than did 
 their elder brothers. As things go in this world, 
 although we prefer to think of contentment as a 
 virtue, the only people who approach content- 
 ment are those without ambition. The worker of 
 to-day, however grievous he may think his wrongs, 
 
50 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 is far less of a slave to his job and to his employer 
 than was the older workman. 
 
 An apprenticeship was expected to last through 
 at least four years, but I worked especially hard 
 during my first year and a half trying to master 
 all of the business in the shop, and in the evenings 
 I studied draughting and went at night to a 
 business school in York which taught bookkeeping 
 and writing. I entered as an apprentice with the 
 view of later branching out for myself, and with 
 the understanding that I was not bound to any 
 length of time. At the end of eighteen months, 
 and although I was but twenty years old, I thought 
 I was ready to begin on my own account, and so 
 informed my employers. By that time I was 
 doing the draughting for the firm and also kept a 
 record of all of the sizes and shapes. 
 
 Indeed, I was a general bureau of information, 
 or factory expert, or whatever you might choose 
 to call my nameless job. I introduced a little 
 order into the chaos. We were only typical of 
 the average shop; we had very little in the way of 
 an office, kept practically no books excepting day 
 book and cash book, had no inventory record, and 
 never knew what anything cost. The prices were 
 based on what other manufacturers were charging 
 but entirely without regard to overhead or any 
 charge other than that of material and direct 
 labour, and these were known only in gross 
 figures. I must really have made myself rather 
 
Starting in Business 51 
 
 valuable in contributing order although that point 
 had not occurred to me. The firm laughed at my 
 notion that I might start in business, but asked me 
 not to leave for a month. At the end of that 
 month, when I was getting ready to leave, they 
 offered me a partnership. I got in touch with 
 my father and he thought it was safer for me to 
 begin as a part-proprietor in a business that 
 was already established rather than to start 
 alone, and so he advanced the small sum of money 
 necessary to buy an interest. In that he showed 
 fine judgment; it is safer to take something that 
 is going than to start afresh. 
 
 We arrived at the value of my interest by a 
 rough appraisal of the business but without taking 
 into account goodwill. When I brought up the 
 matter of goodwill neither of the partners knew 
 what I was talking about and I probably should 
 not have known myself had I not made what I 
 then thought a profound study of that subject in 
 my business course. The fact was that a valuable 
 asset of that business was goodwill, as compared 
 with the simple machinery and small amount of 
 stock carried. 
 
 Our trade was largely with the South, and very 
 shortly after I entered the partnership I began to 
 be a sales agent. Selling was not a separate 
 division at the time. Whenever work slackened, 
 one of the partners hitched his horse and buggy 
 and started out for orders. I became a salesman 
 
52 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 only because the older men did not like the idea 
 of being away from home. Often I was away two 
 or three weeks, travelling with only my horse and 
 buggy. 
 
 It was difficult to reach some of the Southern 
 planters for they were high-and-mighty individuals 
 who spent much of their time hunting, and left 
 business to their factors or overseers. One man 
 in particular to whom I wanted to sell agricultural 
 machines was the well-known Colonel Ned Lloyd, 
 who had a big estate on the eastern shore of 
 Maryland, near Easton, and who was the largest 
 slave-owner in Maryland. He also owned a 
 plantation in Louisiana. Fred Douglas, by the 
 way, had been one of his slaves. As I could not 
 sell anything to the overseer, and it was difficult 
 to reach the Colonel himself, I was in something 
 of a quandary. I was sure that if I could once 
 gain the house and form an acquaintance with 
 members of the family, the rest would be com- 
 paratively easy. In those days Southern families 
 of prominence had darky major-domos who as- 
 sumed to rule and were not inclined to welcome 
 any one who came on business. Once having 
 gained admittance, however, the open and kindly 
 hospitality of the period would make you welcome. 
 
 An acquaintance told me it was important to 
 make an impression on the major-domo and meet 
 the family, when I should be almost certain to be 
 asked to stop over, and that after dinner I could 
 
Starting in Business 53 
 
 talk to the Colonel if he happened to be at home. 
 He was seldom to be seen during the day, as he 
 was nearly always out riding over his estate or 
 hunting. I got the finest team I could in Easton, 
 the county seat, and was driven down to Colonel 
 Lloyd's in some state. On arriving at the house, 
 an old and grave darky, who might be called the 
 butler, received me. He spoke very deliberately 
 and there was no doubt that he was a personage of 
 considerable consequence. I handed him my card 
 and under the card placed a dollar. He looked me 
 over and, my appearance seeming to satisfy him, 
 ushered me into the drawing room. In a little 
 while Mrs. Lloyd, who was a delightful lady, 
 came down; we had some music and talked about 
 music and books in which we happened to be most 
 interested, and after a while the Colonel himself 
 came breezily in. I supposed it was growing near 
 dinner and started to thank Mrs. Lloyd for the 
 afternoon and said that I must go. 
 
 "You are too late," broke in the Colonel. "I 
 have sent your team and buggy back to Easton. 
 You are going to stay all night and to-morrow we 
 shall look over the place." 
 
 We had a delightful evening. The next morn- 
 ing we rode around the estate. I pointed out 
 to him how he could use some machinery to 
 advantage, especially threshing machines — the 
 thresher and separator were new things then, and 
 he was a large wheat grower. He asked me if I 
 
'54 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 knew where he could get any such machines, and 
 I told him I most certainly did know because I 
 made them. 
 
 "Don't you think I should have some?" he 
 asked. 
 
 "Yes, I do," I answered. 
 
 "Then send me some." 
 
 He selected quite a lot of machinery from my 
 catalogue and told me to send it on. He did not 
 seem to be particular about the cost and left the 
 selection largely to me. It was a large order and 
 most welcome. It was the general habit of the 
 wealthy Southern planters seldom to reckon the 
 cost of anything and some of them got themselves 
 in trouble by this financial carelessness, but not 
 Lloyd, for he was well off and shrewd. 
 
 I rarely secured written orders for anything from 
 our Southern customers and I did not carry any 
 sort of a memorandum book in which to put 
 orders. When I returned from a trip I had my 
 orders in my head. I depended on my memory, 
 which had been pretty well trained. 
 
 Affairs with us were going along fairly satis- 
 factorily and we were making a reasonable amount 
 of money when suddenly the Civil War broke and 
 at once all of our business south of Maryland ceased. 
 We did not have a large credit account in the 
 seceded states as trade there was mainly for cash 
 and it was their custom to pay promptly. But the 
 war stopped any new business from that quarter. 
 
Starting in Business 55 
 
 The people of to-day do not know that old 
 South or its hospitality. Here is an example: 
 
 I was driving one evening through a new country 
 in Virginia. Night approached. There were no 
 hotels, and I asked a man I met on the road where 
 was the nearest good house to stop. He gave me 
 the name of a planter, said I should know it by 
 the high pillars and long avenue lined with trees — 
 " Drive up there and you will be well taken care of." 
 I reached the house before ten o'clock. It was 
 quiet and dark, but in the negro quarters there 
 were music and dancing. I drove down there with 
 the buggy, which was at once taken in charge by 
 one of the servants, who told me I should find the 
 doors open, the dining room also open with plenty 
 of refreshments on the sideboard, to help myself, 
 and then go up in the hallway, peep into some room, 
 and if there were nobody in, just make myself at 
 home. This I did. I was warmly welcomed at 
 the breakfast table, and spent a day or two there 
 very pleasantly. They wanted to make me stay 
 longer. There were plenty of good servants to 
 do the work, a visit gave no trouble to the ladies 
 of the house, and if the visitor was cultured and 
 interesting he was an acceptable guest, but in 
 any case would be hospitably entertained. I was 
 just as much at home ten minutes after I got to 
 the breakfast table as though I had known them 
 a long time. I visited them again after the war 
 broke out. The lady of the house said she wished 
 
56 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 all the Yankees- had one head so she could cut 
 it off even if she suffered eternal punishment. 
 Shortly after she saw some Union officers riding 
 by and, notwithstanding her recent words of 
 hatred, said, "We must not let them pass at 
 dinner time. Invite them in." There was no 
 hospitality in the world like Southern hospitality. 
 
 The beginning of the Civil War did not call 
 for any great drafts of men in our section and 
 we had nothing like the recruiting enthusiasm that 
 marked our entry into the war with Germany. Of 
 course, we were all unsettled, but none of us really 
 comprehended the sort of contest that was open- 
 ing. In those days of small newspapers and of 
 comparatively limited information from various 
 parts of the States we, in the outlying districts — 
 and York was only a little town — were not so 
 alive to national events as were the people in the 
 larger cities who had better means of communica- 
 tion. 
 
 Our business dropped very low and one day, 
 coming back from a sales trip, I found that the 
 factory had burned down the night before. The 
 insurance rates were then very high and being 
 insured was the exception rather than the rule. 
 We carried practically no insurance and therefore 
 our loss was almost total. Our creditors gathered 
 together in a meeting, and I had two almost 
 simultaneous surprises. 
 
 The first was that we could only muster cash 
 
Starting in Business 57 
 
 enough to pay twenty-five cents on the dollar above 
 the mortgages and preferred claims, and the second 
 was that the creditors seemed very glad to get 
 that much, as they had not, I learned, expected 
 to get anything over the mortgage. I had never 
 thought of settling a debt for less than its face 
 value, and I refused to enter into any agreement 
 that did not include ultimately paying everyone 
 in full. My partners saw no possibility of starting 
 up business with a great load of debt and a dis- 
 solution of the partnership was agreed upon. One 
 of the firm went to Philadelphia and the other 
 went West. I may say here that my active part- 
 ner, W. W. Dingee, was a gentleman of great 
 ability and the highest character. He secured a 
 position with J. I. Case & Co. of Racine, Wiscon- 
 sin, and warmly thanked me for taking over the 
 debts of the firm and preserving its honour. 
 
 Our largest creditors were Messrs. P. A. & S. 
 Small, who were York's leading citizens. They 
 had the most extensive business in York and in 
 addition to their own claims they held proxies for 
 the majority of the other outside creditors. My 
 partners having withdrawn, Mr. Samuel Small 
 asked me what I proposed to do. I announced 
 that my plan was to have all of the creditors abso- 
 lutely release the property so that I could start up 
 business again without any interference on account 
 of debts and then let me bind myself to pay within 
 three or four years. If they would not agree to 
 
58 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 that plan then I should have to devise some other 
 way, but I was afraid that any other way would 
 delay their eventual payment. However, I added, 
 I was going to pay all of them in full no matter 
 what they agreed to. 
 
 I found that Samuel Small was my staunch friend 
 as was his partner, Philip A. Small. As their firm 
 was the principal creditor Samuel Small took 
 charge of the meeting. He said he had watched 
 my course very closely since I had been in York 
 and he had confidence that I should make good 
 and therefore that he would make an exception to 
 his general rule always in the case of a failure 
 to take what he could get at once and charge the 
 balance to profit and loss. He said that instead, 
 their firm would vote to give me a chance and do 
 all they could to assist me. The smaller creditors 
 all agreed with him and thus I began business over 
 again, this time alone and in the ruins of the old 
 factory. I leased a warehouse on the location of 
 our present factory and fitted it up for a shop. 
 
 The men to whom I owed money advanced fur- 
 ther supplies just as though they were not creditors, 
 and I found that the very relation of creditor and 
 debtor made them to all intents and purposes my 
 silent partners. Every one of them aided me in 
 every way he could. Within four years I paid all 
 of their claims. Those were four hard years. I 
 worked practically all of the time. From five 
 to seven in the morning I worked in the office. 
 
Starting in Business 59 
 
 Then I was in the shop from seven in the morning 
 until six in the evening, and then back in the office 
 until ten at night. But I enjoyed the work. It 
 was a kind of play — a great game that forestalled 
 the need for outside recreation. 
 
 The earning of our daily bread and the eating of 
 it were then much closer together than now. If a 
 man had a small shop, he lived over it. If he had 
 a large shop he lived near it. There was none of 
 that sharp distinguishing between home and office 
 that obtains to-day. One did not close his desk 
 and leave for the day; he was always with his 
 business — that was his life, but, although absorb- 
 ing, the business life was not so intense as is to-day's. 
 We worked long hours but, when you consider 
 that we had none of the modern conveniences that 
 to-day make so many things easy to accomplish, 
 you will realize that we spent a good part of our 
 time in work that is to-day delegated to someone 
 else. The steel pen was gradually taking the place 
 of the quill, but we still blotted with sand. A 
 man can to-day more easily do in a couple of hours 
 all that we could do then in a day; but compressing 
 so many of our old days into a single day makes 
 for an intensity of work that cannot well be kept 
 up through the long hours that we worked then. 
 Many of the older men kill themselves by trying 
 to work through the hours they used to work — 
 they do not realize that the score and not the hours 
 is what counts. It is the same with the men in 
 
60 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 the shop. Under modern conditions they should 
 not attempt to work twelve hours a day. I am 
 not certain that eight or any other arbitrary figure 
 is right. It all depends upon the work. It is 
 hard to get away from calculating work by hours 
 instead of by results. 
 
 I did not realize until years after how really 
 unusual it was then for creditors to permit me not 
 merely an extension but also what amounted to a 
 fresh start. Credits were then usually very long; 
 it was not the length of the credit but the payment 
 on the day due that mattered. In our town the 
 ordinary bills were paid but once a year — April 
 1st. On that day the people came in from all over 
 the county and, cash in hand, went around to clean 
 up all their bills. The town was thronged with 
 people — it was a kind of holiday, for the shops 
 generally closed. If a man did not pay on that day 
 he was as good as insolvent. We in business had 
 to pay somewhat more often than once a year, but 
 seldom did we pay more often than quarterly. But 
 on the first of April we had to pay, or lose standing. 
 We, too, paid in cash; sometimes we used bank 
 checks for payments to distant points, but draw- 
 ing a check was something of a ceremony and was 
 reserved for the larger affairs. Even in the big 
 cities, if a man had ten bills to pay, he would draw 
 the cash and take it around rather than draw ten 
 checks. In the country only a few people would 
 accept checks. They did not regard them as pay- 
 
Starting in Business 61 
 
 ments but in the more strict legal sense of being 
 only directions to banks to make payments. I do 
 not recall in those early days a single case other 
 than my own of what is now known as constructive 
 credit. The general practice was to get what a 
 man had the moment he failed to pay on the due 
 date — for the old business man had a profound 
 respect for ready money. You simply could not 
 stay in business unless you paid your debts. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 I AM "CAPTURED" BY LINCOLN AFTER HAVING SOLD 
 YORK TO THE REBELS 
 
 THE beginnings of the events which de- 
 veloped into the Civil War did not much 
 move us. York was distinctively Northern 
 but not bitterly anti-Southern. The community 
 felt that slavery was wrong in principle. At the 
 same time, being acquainted with many slave own- 
 ers, we also knew that slavery was better in practice 
 than in theory and that the planter who was cruel 
 to his Negroes was a rare exception. No matter 
 what his personal disposition might be, slaves were 
 so very expensive that it would be as ridiculous to 
 maltreat them as to maltreat a stable of blooded 
 horses. 
 
 The situation was not unlike that which obtains 
 in prohibition to-day. There are fanatics on both 
 sides. The majority of us, I think, are distinctly 
 against the sale of intoxicating beverages and es- 
 pecially the saloon, but we would not wreck the 
 country in order to enforce prohibition. That 
 is, from a larger viewpoint, we cannot conceive 
 the regulation of a beverage to be of such over- 
 whelming importance as to make every other issue 
 
 62 
 
I Am "Captured" by Lincoln 63 
 
 insignificant. There are others who would prefer 
 a barren waste without liquor to a garden spot 
 where the Rum Demon dwelt. 
 
 It often happens that the less you know about 
 a subject, the more fanatical you can become. 
 It is hard to hate a man whom you know. The 
 fanatical abolitionists and the fanatical slave 
 advocates did not know each other. Therefore 
 they could hate. Some things in "Uncle Tom's 
 Cabin," for instance, could not have been written 
 if Harriet Beecher Stowe had resided in and been 
 familiar with the South. John Brown's raid, which 
 had as its object the starting of an insurrection 
 among the slaves of Virginia, would not have 
 taken place had he understood the slaves, for he 
 would then have known that the Negroes did not 
 know the meaning of revolt — that they were, in 
 the main, more interested in three meals a day 
 than in political theory; and that, if he had suc- 
 ceeded in stirring them to the point of frenzy, the 
 only result would have been chaos. 
 
 We felt that slavery was a political question and 
 we were more concerned with establishing the prin- 
 ciple that all new states admitted to the Union — 
 for then the admission of a new state was as per- 
 sonal a matter to every citizen as the election of a 
 member to a small club — should be free states. 
 We were concerned with the question that Lincoln 
 put to Douglas at Freeport: 
 
 "Can the people of a United States territory, 
 
64 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 in any legal way, against the will of any citizen of 
 the United States, exclude slavery from its limits 
 prior to the formation of a state constitution?" 
 
 The debates of Lincoln and Douglas, and Lin- 
 coln's great speech at the Cooper Institute in 
 New York in February, 1860, fired the country. 
 They made known the legal position of slavery and 
 they made known to the East something of the 
 qualities which this wonderful man had in him. 
 His gift of clear thought and Biblical speech con- 
 vinced the serious citizen, disgusted with the vacil- 
 lations of Buchanan, that he was the man who 
 might cement together the Union that seemed in a 
 fair way to need the services of a very competent 
 mason. For there was no doubt where Lincoln 
 stood. We needed a strong president with plenty 
 of common sense. And for these reasons Lincoln 
 won the nomination and the election. 
 
 Only a very few people held him as a potentially 
 great man — not a larger number than hail every 
 president as great. But his speeches and declara- 
 tions affected me deeply — more deeply than I 
 can well describe. They awoke in me an admira- 
 tion which, a few years later, after I had met and 
 talked with him, developed into a reverence that 
 has grown with the years. To-day, after having 
 met many of the leading men in most of the coun- 
 tries of the world during the past half century, I 
 believe that he was one of the few supermen. 
 This may sound extravagant but I cannot put down 
 
I Am "Captured" by Lincoln 65 
 
 my feeling toward Abraham Lincoln in less em- 
 phatic terms. When the most has been said that 
 can be said, only a fraction of the whole man has 
 been revealed. 
 
 When the result of Lincoln's election was made 
 known, South Carolina, it will be remembered, 
 in a state convention repealed the act ratifying 
 the Constitution and seceded from the Union; 
 and before his inauguration, Georgia, Alabama, 
 Louisiana, Mississippi, Texas, and Florida had 
 made like decisions. We knew that the situation 
 was serious; but, somehow, we could not adjust 
 our minds to civil war. Neither side really believed 
 that there was going to be a fight. The most that 
 any one could conceive was an insurrection — an 
 over-sized riot. Politicians were always talking 
 fight, anyway. President Buchanan had no ef- 
 fective suggestion for maintaining the Union. 
 
 Then came the inauguration, and the declaration 
 by Lincoln — I was within a few feet of the platform, 
 closely watching his face. I knew that he meant 
 what he said, that his promises would be kept — 
 that he had no purpose of interfering with the in- 
 stitution of slavery in the states where it existed; 
 that he was against bloodshed and violence; but 
 that he would protect the integrity of the Union. 
 For the benefit of the South, he said: "You have 
 no oath registered in Heaven to destroy the Govern- 
 ment, while I shall have a most solemn one to pre- 
 serve, protect, and defend it." 
 
66 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 We thought that the genius and firmness of 
 Lincoln could find a way out. Those who live 
 to-day have no conception of the obstacles which 
 the Union had already surmounted in its organiza- 
 tion. I was a young man with little personal ex- 
 perience, but all around were men who had gone 
 through the travail of the Union. They had seen 
 basic points of difference between the sections 
 reconciled. Politics were usually violent. In most 
 disputes, each side held as of course that the 
 other was actuated by lower motives than had 
 hitherto been known in the history of the human 
 mind and that, as far as personal character was 
 concerned, one would have to go back to the worst 
 of the Roman emperors even to get a faint idea of 
 the moral turpitude of the opponent. We were 
 accustomed to violent invective; and seldom an 
 election passed without a number of free-for-all 
 fights. What we to-day would call a shockingly 
 vituperative campaign would then have been 
 classed as mild. 
 
 We did not take the fighting gestures of the 
 South very seriously; and neither did they take — 
 excepting from the stump — our attitude as mean- 
 ing much of anything. We thought it was just 
 another case of small boys on opposite sides of the 
 street and safely behind their own fences, exchang- 
 ing vocal notes on comparative abilities in combat. 
 
 Then came Sumter and everything changed. 
 That was more than a challenge to fight. It was a 
 
I Am "Captured" by Lincoln 67 
 
 struck blow. Three days later came the Presi- 
 dent's proclamation asking for 75,000 men to serve 
 for three months and calling upon all loyal citizens 
 "to maintain the honour, the integrity, and the ex- 
 istence of our national Union." 
 
 Business dropped dead. Everybody started to 
 drill. The banks closed; they stopped specie pay- 
 ments. We had an unofficial moratorium. Men 
 wanted to get everything they owned converted 
 into money and to be ready to go out and fight. 
 Stocks and merchandise during those first days 
 were sold at almost any price that was offered. 
 The proclamation called for men between eighteen 
 and forty-five and the enlistments were largely 
 young men under twenty-one. Thus it turned out 
 to be a boys' war. The married men as a rule 
 did not enlist; they were not expected to; very few 
 even thought of doing so. And when they did 
 try, their wives often dragged them back. 
 
 It was not that the men were unwilling to fight 
 —far from that. But there was no idea in the 
 beginning that the country was to fight for its life. 
 The first call for only 75,000 men to serve three 
 months was an indication of the official view. 
 We were generally more concerned with the quick 
 punishment of Americans who had dared to fire 
 upon the Stars and Stripes than we were with 
 getting ready for a civil war — that was still in- 
 conceivable. Indignation superseded preparation. 
 
 I was a strong Union sympathizer, but because 
 
68 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 I had been born and educated South of the Mason 
 and Dixon line, had many relatives there, and did 
 most of my business in the Southern States, I came 
 under considerable suspicion from that peculiar 
 brand of patriotism which finds its highest expres- 
 sion, not in service, but in doubting the service of 
 others. The noncombatants always hate more vio- 
 lently than the combatants. During the Civil War 
 I met high officers on both sides and seldom did I 
 detect among them the slightest personal rancor. 
 Lincoln had not a particle of it; neither had those 
 of his Cabinet whom I met. When Lee surrendered 
 to Grant, an officer asked a little anxiously about 
 what would happen to his horse, and Grant answered 
 in a, flash almost of indignation: 
 
 "Take it with you, of course. I am not a 
 horse thief." 
 
 ^Having been married on September 26th, 1860, 
 I was among those who were not expected to 
 enlist. I provided a substitute, however, and 
 joined with other men in a troop of volunteer 
 cavalry — a home guard. The majority of the 
 workmen in our shop were unmarried and most of 
 them enlisted, but with those men remaining we 
 could easily carry on, for there was nothing much 
 just then to do. 
 
 One of the early acts of the Confederacy was 
 to declare that all (debts owing to Northerners by 
 Southerners were cancelled as far as the original 
 debtors were concerned, and payable into the Con- 
 
I Am "Captured" by Lincoln 69 
 
 federate Treasury. A similar statute was enacted 
 by the Union. However, this was a gentlemen's 
 war, and men on both sides, who liked to pay their 
 debts, found ways to do so. A good many bills 
 were thus paid through Canada as a sort of mutual 
 clearing house — I received several payments in 
 that way during the war and much of the balance 
 owing me was paid after the war. 
 
 The cheery confidence of the opening days evap- 
 orated with the Battle of Bull Run. As the Con- 
 federate armies slowly fought their way north in 
 their campaign, actually crossed the Pennsylvania 
 border, and, we feared, were marching toward 
 York, our people were very much disturbed. Valu- 
 ables were sent away where practicable, and 
 some citizens left. As the troops came nearer 
 (General Lee's headquarters were at Fredericks- 
 burg, only forty miles away), our local volunteer or 
 emergency cavalry company was sent out to re- 
 connoitre. The Confederates were reported to be 
 less than thirty miles off. It was the first time our 
 company had ever undertaken any enterprise more 
 specifically belligerent than a parade. Captain 
 Nes was in charge, and, before we had gone very 
 far, the men, unused to riding, began to grow weary. 
 
 By the time we reached Hanover, eighteen miles 
 away, many of the nearly one hundred men who 
 started had dropped out and were either resting 
 or ambling homeward. As may be imagined, the 
 discipline among this volunteer company was 
 
70 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 more than lax. The men were not enlisted, and 
 the authority of the officers was bounded by what 
 it pleased the privates to do. Ten or fifteen miles 
 beyond Hanover and in the vicinity of the Con- 
 federate forces, as reported by farmers who had 
 seen them, found only half a dozen of us left. 
 Captain Nes suggested that we might as well all 
 return. But that did not suit my fancy and I 
 answered : 
 
 "I am not going back until I find what the rebels 
 are going to do." 
 
 My horse gave out and I impressed a fresh one 
 from a farmer, leaving my own as hostage. The 
 rest of them returned, while I trotted onward — 
 which may seem to those experienced in the re- 
 cent Great War an uncommonly rash sort of thing 
 to do. But I did not feel that I was in any par- 
 ticular danger; and I was not. I was not in 
 uniform and, anyway, our Civil War was a fight 
 between gentlemen. Moreover, I expected to 
 meet old friends. The men on both sides were 
 mainly of American stock and could not think 
 of playing other than fair. The idea that war 
 made it necessary to pick off a lone citizen peace- 
 ably riding along a road had no part in the Amer- 
 ican make-up. You see, none of us had been really 
 trained to war. We were quite without those 
 larger cultural advantages of Europe which in- 
 tensify what is, I believe, there called civilization 
 to such a degree that those qualities which we, in 
 
7 Am "Captured" by Lincoln 71 
 
 our crude way, think make for decency are utterly 
 squeezed out. In other words, we had a strong 
 feeling that kicking a man in the stomach was not 
 uncommonly skilled boxing, but rather an evidence 
 of abnormality. For instance, outposts of the ar- 
 mies might with perfect safety camp within gun- 
 shot of each other; for it was not considered fair 
 to fire on sleeping men. In fact, I think both ar- 
 mies issued specific orders against this practice in 
 order to restrain those who were unfamiliar with 
 the then ethics of war. 
 
 And so I rode along, quite unafraid, and highly 
 interested in what I hoped to do until a picket 
 slouched out from the roadside to inquire casually 
 and with the familiar Southern drawl, as to where 
 I was going. He had on what would pass for a 
 gray uniform and I knew that I was within the 
 Confederate lines. 
 
 "Who is in command?" I asked. 
 
 "Fitzhugh Lee," he answered. 
 
 " Do you know if W. H. Lee is there? " I went on. 
 "He was a schoolmate of mine." 
 
 "I think he is," he replied. And then he gave 
 me very complete directions as to how to reach the 
 Commander's tent, and without further formality, 
 I rode into Headquarters, hitched my horse to a 
 fence, and went into the tent of General Fitzhugh 
 Lee. He met me cordially as a former acquaint- 
 ance. I told him where I had come from and 
 what I had come for. 
 
72 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 "Is it true," I asked him, "that you are going 
 through York? I am interested because I have 
 some property there." 
 
 "No," he answered, without the least hesitation, 
 "we are not going through York; we may go up 
 through the Cumberland Valley toward Harris- 
 burg. You are in no danger." 
 
 He then asked me if I knew whether any of 
 the family were hurt in the burning of Admiral Bu- 
 chanan's house in Talbot County, Maryland, tell- 
 ing me that the Admiral had telegraphed him to 
 find out if possible, and he knew I was acquainted 
 with the Admiral. I happened to have been down 
 in Talbot County when the fire occurred, and was 
 able to assure him that the family were all safe 
 and most of the contents of the house had been 
 saved; and while I was in General Lee's tent he had 
 this message sent over the lines to the Admiral 
 who, I believe, was in Norfolk, Virginia. 
 
 We gossiped a few minutes more and then I 
 started to go. General Lee gave me the pass- 
 word but said I would probably have no difficulty 
 getting out of the lines, and I passed the pickets, 
 returning without using it. After I had thanked 
 him and started to leave, it suddenly occurred to 
 me that perhaps I was in a confidential relation, 
 and having no intention whatsoever to serve as a 
 spy, I asked whether I should say anything ex- 
 cepting that the Confederate army would not pass 
 through York. The General waved his hand. 
 
I Am "Captured" by Lincoln 73 
 
 "Tell them anything you choose to tell." And 
 he added with a smile, "They will soon know any- 
 way." 
 
 So back I rode to York picking up one or two of 
 our soldierly company, including the Captain, ex- 
 changed my horse, much to the delight of the 
 farmer, who said he never expected to see it again, 
 and gave the glad tidings to the people. Then I 
 went up to Harrisburg the same night with Captain 
 Nes and had an audience with Governor Curtin. 
 I told him just what I had done and received his 
 thanks for the expedition. I told him no more, 
 however, than I had been authorized to say i by 
 General Lee. 
 
 But this was only a breathing spell for York. 
 General Robert E. Lee after Chancellorsville, a 
 year later, pushed forward his army by the northern 
 route, while from the South came Gordon and 
 Early in the hope of striking forward into Lancaster 
 County and forcing eastward General Meade's 
 Army of the Potomac to defend Philadelphia. 
 
 We knew that the Confederate column was on 
 the way toward us; for several days a steady stream 
 of farmers and merchants with wagons loaded with 
 merchandise had filled the Gettysburg Pike and 
 passed on through the Borough, down the Wrights- 
 ville Pike, across the river, into Lancaster and 
 Chester counties. To our own people were added 
 others from Adams County and the northern part 
 of Maryland. The railroad bridge at Wrightsville 
 
74 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 was burned the day the Confederates reached 
 York. This changed the aspect of the Confederate 
 invasion of Pennsylvania and made Gettysburg the 
 mark of the flood tide of the Confederacy. 
 
 On the morning of Saturday, the 27th of June, 
 1863, we were informed that the Confederate army 
 would probably be in York that night, or at the 
 latest, the next morning. The leading citizens went 
 into session in the counting room at P. A. & S. 
 Small's hardware store. The Smalls, as I have 
 said before, were the big people of the town and 
 David Small, one of the proprietors of the York 
 Gazette, was Chief Burgess. Among others in the 
 meeting were W. Latimer Small, General George 
 Hay, Samuel and Philip Small, Thomas E. Cochran, 
 (an attorney), Thomas White, and other leading 
 citizens who had formed a Committee of Public 
 Safety. 
 
 The Committee was discussing plans for the 
 safety of the citizens and property of the town 
 when I entered the meeting and proposed that it 
 would be well to meet the Confederates before they 
 entered the town — that we could make a good deal 
 better bargain with them then than we could after 
 they saw how little of our property we had been 
 able to remove to a place of safety. The attorney, 
 Mr. Cochran, said my plan would be good enough 
 if we could find anyone to go, if we could make 
 any bargain, and if the Confederates would keep 
 the bargain when it had been made. I told him 
 
I Am "Captured" by Lincoln 75 
 
 I would go, that I believed I could make an ar- 
 rangement, and that I was certain they would keep 
 faith as I knew the character of the men in charge. 
 My plan, however, was not seriously entertained. 
 Then I told them I would take the responsibility 
 of going anyhow — which I did. 
 
 I therefore hitched up my buggy and started off. 
 I struck the Confederate lines beyond Abbotstown, 
 eighteen miles out, and was fortunate in meeting 
 and old classmate, Lieutenant Redik, from Georgia, 
 whom I had not seen since school days. 
 
 He greeted me with the words, "Hello, Farquhar. 
 What are you doing up here among the Yankees?" 
 
 I replied, "I came just to find out what you are 
 doing up here among the Yankees. I have some 
 property in York and I don't want it burned. 
 Who is in command?" 
 
 "General Gordon," he answered, "whom you 
 may know, and General Early." 
 
 I asked him to put somebody else in charge of 
 his company, jump into the buggy with me, and 
 we would go to see Gordon — which he did. The 
 General was exceedingly courteous. I did not 
 know General Gordon personally but I knew him 
 well through mutual friends. And, having stated 
 exactly the object of my mission, I said : 
 
 "General Gordon, unless you have entirely 
 changed from the character you used to have, you 
 are neither a horse thief nor a bank robber, and 
 fighting is more in your line than sacking a city." 
 
76 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 He evidently knew what I had in mind and smil- 
 ingly admitted that perhaps I was right. He 
 asked me what I would have him do. I said: 
 
 "You and your men enter York quietly and then 
 you sit down and make requisitions for whatever 
 you reasonably want and our committee will see 
 that they are honoured." 
 
 He thought for a second and then answered that 
 he would be more than glad to make any arrange- 
 ment that would spare the non-combatants of the 
 town from the horrors of war, adding, "We have 
 been treated badly down the Valley, but General 
 Lee is not inclined to retaliate." I wrote down 
 in my memorandum book what he said and asked 
 him to sign it so that I could relieve the minds of 
 the people of York. At that he was inclined to 
 balk, but when I explained that it was not because 
 I doubted his word but only to satisfy the Com- 
 mittee, especially the women of the town, who were 
 very uneasy, he at once signed what I had written, 
 which was to the effect that when his troops en- 
 tered York and its vicinity they would not take 
 private property or molest any one, but that 
 they would expect some necessary supplies which 
 we agreed to furnish. 
 
 Getting back was not quite so easy, for I did 
 not ask for passwords as I had done the year before, 
 remembering that I had not made use of them then, 
 and the only thing that my friend Redik could 
 advise was that, if any one tried to stop me, to give 
 
I Am "Captured" by Lincoln 77 
 
 my horse rein and take my chances. I had no 
 trouble until I reached the outpost. My horse 
 was fast, and like a streak we went by the outpost 
 and were a hundred yards away before the sentries 
 waked up to the fact that I ought to have been 
 stopped, and started to shoot. But I imagine that 
 they could not have been over-anxious to get me, 
 for among the Confederate soldiers were always 
 enough mountain marksmen to make sure of their 
 quarry as far as a rifle bullet would carry. 
 
 Anyway, I came through and so did the horse, 
 without a scratch. I presented my agreement to 
 the Committee of Safety who were still in session. 
 They seemed to think the agreement was too good 
 to be true and the attorney, lawyer-like, argued 
 that if they discovered that I was not authorized 
 by the Committee to make the agreement, the 
 Confederates would not feel bound to carry out 
 their promises. In reply to this I suggested that 
 the Chief Burgess and several of the prominent 
 citizens should ride back with me and go over the 
 particulars with General Gordon and have it con- 
 firmed. 
 
 The Smalls joined me in insisting that a com- 
 mittee be appointed with full authority to arrange 
 the terms, and that same evening, David Small 
 (Chief Burgess), General George Hay, Latimer 
 Small, Thomas White, and myself, as this com- 
 mittee, went out to the Gettysburg Pike bearing 
 a flag of truce and entered the Confederate lines at 
 
78 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 Farmer's Post Office which is about eight miles 
 west of York, where they had encamped for the 
 night. We were taken to General Gordon and 
 again I met Lieutenant Redik who whispered to 
 me that he had been under arrest for having let 
 me pass out of the lines without giving the pass- 
 word. General Gordon was a little more formal 
 than in the morning, but said the terms as agreed 
 with me would be carried out, and the particulars 
 would be arranged by General Early the next 
 morning when he entered the town. 
 
 It was late when we got back to York and we 
 adjourned to meet the full committee in the morn- 
 ing. That was Sunday. By the time the church 
 bells were ringing, bugle calls also were coming out 
 of the distance, and by ten o'clock General Gordon 
 and his cavalry had arrived in Center Square, taken 
 down the Stars and Stripes, raised the Stars and 
 Bars, and gone on through to - Wrights ville. In a 
 little while the infantry came up, commanded by 
 General Early and staff. The General wore a 
 new gray uniform and black slouch hat with a 
 black ostrich feather. He went immediately to 
 the Courthouse where the Committee was already 
 in session and formally presented these two re- 
 quests : 
 
 165 barrels of flour or 28,000 pounds of baked bread, 3,500 
 pounds of sugar, 1,650 pounds of coffee, 300 gallons of mo- 
 lasses, 1,200 pounds of salt, 32,000 pounds of fresh beef or 
 21,000 pounds of bacon or pork, the above to be delivered 
 
I Am "Captured" by Lincoln 79 
 
 at the market place on Main Street at 4 p. m. Signed by 
 William W. Thornton, Captain, A. C. S. 
 
 2,000 pairs of shoes or boots, 1,000 pairs of socks, 1,000 
 felt hats and $100,000 in United States money. Signed 
 by C. E. Snodgrass, Major and Chief-Quartermaster, Early's 
 division, approved by J. A. Early, Major-General in com- 
 mand. Signed June 28, 1863. 
 
 Our committee could not furnish all the money 
 and supplies out of hand and General Early said 
 that he was willing to wait a reasonable time. He 
 set up his headquarters in the Sheriff's office. Our 
 sub-committee set out to canvass the town for 
 money and goods to fill the order. The General 
 had specified United States money but we argued 
 that he should take Confederate money, a dollar 
 of which was worth about 10 cents in Federal 
 money — for we soon found that we could not raise 
 as much as $100,000 in cash. We compromised 
 on $28,610, as finally collected, in Federal legal 
 tender, and about its equivalent in merchandise. 
 We gave him a due bill for the balance which of 
 course was never collected. The Committee gave 
 receipts for the contributions and these later were 
 assumed by the Borough and paid off out of the 
 proceeds of a special tax. 
 
 The money was not so easily gathered, although 
 by Monday we had made very fair progress. Gen- 
 eral Early was not satisfied and threatened to 
 burn the Northern Central Railway property and 
 the shops adjoining in which cars were being built 
 
80 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 for the Government. I was, however, told person- 
 ally there was no danger of the threat being carried 
 out. Samuel Small, David Small, and myself 
 tried to convince him that this act would be a 
 violation of the agreement. In the midst of this 
 discussion came a dispatch from General Ewell to 
 General Early stating that troops were concentrat- 
 ing near Gettysburg where they expected to make 
 a stand, and he was ordered to join them, General 
 Gordon's advance having been recalled from 
 Wrightsville. He issued orders at once, and by 
 five o'clock the next morning the last of the Con- 
 federates were out of York and on their way to 
 join Lee at Gettysburg. 
 
 They had scrupulously kept to their agreement 
 and York was unharmed. I followed on to the 
 Battle of Gettysburg as a member of the Hospital 
 Service — and of which more later. 
 
 When I returned from that great battle, thankful, 
 as we all were, that the Confederates had been 
 turned back, and expecting to share that joy, I had 
 no sooner passed into the town than I noticed 
 people pointing at me and jeering, calling me rebel. 
 At first I could not make out what it was all about. 
 Then I learned that after the news of Lee's "defeat 
 had reached town the pinchbeck patriots had 
 crawled out of their holes and decided that our 
 Committee, instead of saving the town, had sold it 
 to the Confederates and that I, as the man who 
 had opened the negotiations, was something near 
 
I Am "Captured" by Lincoln 81 
 
 to being a traitor ! I shall never forget those days, 
 being pointed out as "the man who had sold York" 
 to the Rebels, instead of one of those who had 
 saved it. The accusation was ridiculous and 
 unjust, but my indignation knew no bounds. I 
 knew that I had helped save the city from possible 
 ruin, not sold it. I determined to put the case 
 before one who I knew would be just — the Presi- 
 dent. 
 
 I went to Washington, talked over the whole 
 matter with the President's secretary, young John 
 Hay — later our able Secretary of State, whom 
 I knew personally. He declared that I had done 
 exactly right and deserved public commendation. 
 
 He tried to persuade me not to insist on seeing 
 the President, who he said was overworked and 
 very much worried, but on second thoughts told 
 me that the President would leave the front door 
 of the White House at half past four to go to the 
 War Department to meet some officers; that I could 
 walk with him without taking up any of his time. 
 
 I took up my position on the front portico of the 
 White House which, I noticed, particularly needed 
 paint. There were no guards or soldiers about 
 and no flunkeys or attendants. Several generals 
 passed to and fro while I was there but there was 
 nothing to prevent any one from going by the East 
 Room to the President's office. Exactly at half 
 past four the President came out. 
 
 Since I had seen him at his first inauguration his 
 
82 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 face had grown sadder but his eye even more 
 kindly. And he had taken on a kind of simple, 
 majestic dignity that seemed more of the soul than 
 of the person — a dignity and a majesty that one 
 felt rather than saw. No painting, no statue, no 
 attempt at re-creation of him on the stage, has ever 
 given even a suggestion of this surrounding qual- 
 ity, of this atmosphere that came from him and 
 lifted him away from the rut of ordinary mortals. 
 I was almost overcome with a feeling of rever- 
 ence at the sight of him. He asked as we shook 
 hands: 
 
 "Well, sonny, what are you after?" 
 
 He did not smile, but he took my hand in his 
 great, strong palm, placed the other on my shoulder 
 and looked down into my face. And then I told, 
 or maybe I blurted out, my whole story. He said 
 nothing at all, and, when I had finished, he started 
 on his way. I fell in beside him answering his 
 inquiring look with : 
 
 "I am going with you; I want your advice, and 
 to know what you think of our action." 
 
 Thus we walked together, although it took two 
 of my steps to match his stride. He shambled 
 just a little, as might a man who is not wholly con- 
 scious that he has a body, but I remember that he 
 was very clean and so was his clothing, although 
 it hung loose and ill-fitting about him. He wore 
 a soft, black, slouch hat. Some pictures give the 
 jdea that Lincoln was ungainly. His hands and 
 
I Am "Captured" by Lincoln 83 
 
 his feet were large but not ungainly; not a motion 
 was ungraceful. Great and strong and rugged, 
 he was — with the greatness and strength and 
 ruggedness of the glorious live oak. 
 
 As we walked he asked me questions: Was I 
 married? Did I have any children? Had I a 
 business in York? What kind was it? Was it 
 prosperous? 
 
 And thus we walked up the steps to the War 
 Department Building and through to a room where 
 were already together the Secretary of War Stanton 
 and perhaps half a dozen generals. Stanton was 
 personally known to me, my cousin, James Hallo- 
 well, being his private secretary. I had met 
 him several times. The President, giving my 
 hand a squeeze, brought me before the Secretary 
 as he said: 
 
 "Stanton, I have captured that young chap who 
 sold York, Pennsylvania, to the Rebels. What 
 are we going to do with him?" 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 THE BUSINESS SIDE OF WAR 
 
 ALTHOUGH President Lincoln's voice, as he 
 
 /\ asked Secretary Stanton what he should 
 J_ M^ do with me, gave no evidence that he Was 
 not asking a serious question and expecting a 
 serious answer, I felt, nervous as I was, that he 
 had already given his decision and I was not sur- 
 prised when the Secretary answered just as gravely: 
 
 "We ought to promote him." 
 
 And then he went on to say that by my action 
 some millions of dollars' worth of property had 
 probably been saved at a trifling cost and that I 
 deserved very high commendation. The President 
 nodded at this, and, turning to me, said: 
 
 "You were wise not to neglect an opportunity 
 to be of service. Opportunity does not knock at 
 a man's door every day. The mistake you made 
 was in worrying yourself over what people say 
 about you. You should go through life doing what 
 you believe to be right and not bother yourself 
 over what people may say. They will soon forget 
 their criticisms." 
 
 "The place for you," he continued, "is in the 
 army. It is a place I should love to take myself. 
 
 .84 
 
The Business Side of War 85 
 
 I will follow you up and see that you get a chance 
 for promotion. The mustering officer is right 
 here." 
 
 I told him that the situation at home with my 
 family and my business would make it all but im- 
 possible for me to enter the army unless we were in 
 an actual emergency. As things were, I felt that 
 I could be of more service at home. I told him that 
 I had served with the emergency men at Gettys- 
 burg, and had furnished a substitute. 
 
 He smiled gently as he answered: 
 
 "Being married is no excuse. But you, may be, 
 are contributing your mite and that is all any of 
 us can do." 
 
 "I wish my mite could be spelled 'm-i-g-h-t,'" I 
 answered. 
 
 "Might is made up of mites — so what is the 
 difference? " he replied. " Our aim in life should be 
 to leave the world a mite better than we found it, 
 and the only way we can do that is to contribute a 
 little every day. You can go home and tell them 
 what I have said to you; tell them that you have 
 my thanks and the thanks of the Government." 
 
 The news of my interview had preceded me and 
 I was received cordially when I went back home, 
 and never again heard about having "sold York." 
 
 It would seem that the President talked in plati- 
 tudes. As far as words were concerned, he did. 
 But a platitude is something that one utters as 
 by rote and that Lincoln did not do. His nature 
 
86 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 was a simple, fundamental one and he really 
 thought in the powerful, elemental way that is 
 expressed in what are almost copy-book maxims. 
 Others might say such things off-hand. Lincoln 
 lived them. The next time I saw him was just 
 before the marvellous Gettysburg speech. A small 
 party of us drove up to Gettysburg early in the 
 morning and just as Lincoln was mounting his 
 horse from Lawyer Wills' home, where he stopped, 
 to ride up to Cemetery Hill, I had a chance to 
 shake hands with him. He remembered me and 
 spoke a half -joking word or two. 
 
 He had become graver than when I had seen him 
 in Washington. The terrific strain that he had 
 been under showed in the deepening lines in his 
 face and the abyss of sadness in his eyes. Time 
 has idealized the President. For me he never 
 needed idealization. But those who know the 
 days of the Civil War only from books can have 
 but little realization of the tense political struggles 
 that were taking place in the North — of the per- 
 sonal opposition to the President on the part of 
 the extreme Abolitionists on the one hand and the 
 Copperheads on the other, and of the movement 
 led by the Tribune among them to force him 
 out. They wanted to displace Lincoln with some- 
 one else whose sole thought would be the abolish- 
 ing of slavery rather than the saving of the Union. 
 
 The Gettysburg and Vicksburg victories im- 
 mensely helped the President but they by no 
 
The Business Side of War 87 
 
 means silenced all the virulent attacks against him. 
 There was not a general slogan of "Stand behind 
 the President" in those days. 
 
 I stood very near to the speaker's stand. Ed- 
 ward Everett made an oration. It was eloquent 
 but it was long, and the President, as he sat there, 
 looked very, very weary. Then the time came 
 for him to move to the rustic platform where he was 
 to speak. The place is marked now by a monu- 
 ment on which is inscribed his great address. He 
 rose slowly, and as he took his place in the centre 
 of the platform, he drew from his waistcoat pocket 
 what appeared to me to be a small, discoloured 
 leaf torn from a memorandum book, and, glancing 
 at it now and then, delivered slowly, clearly, dwell- 
 ing on each phrase as though he were pronouncing 
 a benediction, these words: 
 
 Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth 
 upon this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty, and 
 dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. 
 
 Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether 
 that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can 
 long endure. We are met on a great battlefield of that war. 
 We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final 
 resting-place for those who here gave their lives that that 
 nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that 
 we should do this. 
 
 But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot con- 
 secrate, we cannot hallow, this ground. The brave men, 
 living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far 
 above our poor power to add or detract. The world will 
 
88 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can 
 never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather 
 to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who 
 fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather 
 for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before 
 us, that from these honoured dead we take increased devo- 
 tion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of 
 devotion; that we here highly resolve that these dead shall 
 not have died in vain; that this nation, under God, shall have 
 a new birth of freedom; and that government of the people, 
 by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth. 
 
 It was over so quickly ; it was so direct, so simple, 
 so forceful, that practically none of those in the 
 audience seemed to realize that they had just 
 heard the most glorious joining of word and thought 
 that has ever come from mortal man — that we had 
 been given the opportunity to hear the whole 
 philosophy and spirit and courage and reason for 
 the United States being put into the compass of 
 the Lord's Prayer — that the words we had heard 
 would be to-day in every true American home and 
 office in the land; and that no one hunting for a 
 definition for that new word "Americanism" need 
 go beyond those sentences. 
 
 Perhaps it was because I knew and venerated 
 Lincoln that I was more deeply impressed than 
 by any words that I had ever heard uttered during 
 my lifetime. Turning to those with me I said: 
 "When this battle becomes a misty memory those 
 words will be remembered" — which was received 
 with a doubtful smile. 
 
The Business Side of War 89 
 
 Edward Everett, turning to the President and 
 either because he was courteous or because the 
 address had moved him, or because of both, said 
 in my hearing: 
 
 "Mr. President, you have made a great speech. 
 My address will be remembered only because it 
 was made on the same day." 
 
 The President answered: "The audience does 
 not seem to agree with you." 
 
 The audience certainly did not. They did not 
 really know what they had heard. When a great 
 thing happens, those who are there rarely have 
 any notion of the greatness. The Tribune said 
 that the President had "made a few remarks" and 
 a Harrisburg paper, published the next morning, 
 spoke sneeringly of it as being unworthy of a 
 president. About a year later at an agricultural 
 meeting at Elkton, Maryland, I spoke to Horace 
 Greeley about this and he gruffly answered: 
 
 "One of the many times we were damn fools" 
 — and I told him I forgave him. 
 
 I heard the President's inaugural in the follow- 
 ing year and that was the last time I saw him alive. 
 By the time of Lincoln's second inauguration his 
 position had become more permanent. The per- 
 sonal opposition to him was negligible. But it 
 was not until April 15, 1865, with the war ended, 
 and Abraham Lincoln suddenly dead, that the 
 country began to know what it had had and what 
 it had lost in the way of a man. We feel a good 
 
90 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 deal the same way about Theodore Roosevelt, 
 another great, clean, courageous American. The 
 world seems a lonesome place since he has gone. 
 It is a great country that can produce such men. 
 
 Now let us go back a little — back to the day 
 when the Confederates left York on the summons 
 of Lee to help him check Meade. We knew that 
 a great battle was impending. In a little while 
 we learned that it had begun on the hills about 
 Gettysburg. I was always interested in hospital 
 practice and the best way that I knew of to be 
 of help was in the Hospital Corps. I drove up 
 to Gettysburg in my buggy, being enabled to pass 
 through the Confederate lines by using the passes 
 given me by Generals Gordon and Early some days 
 before. On the second day of the battle, I entered 
 that part of the Union lines which was in command 
 of General Kilpatrick. Having been seen coming 
 out of the Confederate lines, I was arrested, but 
 fortunately, as I seldom go anywhere without 
 meeting someone I know, a soldier who knew me 
 told the officer by whom I had been arrested that 
 I was all right. The officer said: 
 
 "Then you had better see General Kilpatrick 
 mighty quick. He is just about fifty yards away. 
 You run for him and I will follow." 
 
 I jumped out of my buggy and started for the 
 General, the officer closely following. After sa- 
 luting, my officer friend told the General my 
 mission, and upon hearing my reason for being 
 
The Business Side of War 91 
 
 there and how I got there, and remarking gruffly: 
 "If you are an imposter, you are more dangerous 
 than Jeff Davis," he not only released me, but 
 permitted me to join his division in the Medical 
 Corps. 
 
 It was evening. During the night General 
 Kilpatrick threw himself on the ground, saying, 
 "I am going to get an hour or two's sleep; wake 
 me up when I am wanted." I needed sleep badly 
 too, and I lay down by him with my head across 
 
 his knees. He asked, "What in the are you 
 
 doing?" I told him nobody was going to take 
 the trouble to wake me up, but when they woke 
 him I would be on hand for any emergency. We 
 were at once fast asleep. It seemed but a few 
 moments afterward, although it might have 
 been several hours, when the Louisiana Tigers 
 made their attack. My horse and buggy were 
 taken to care for the wounded, and although 
 Major Van Voorhees gave me a receipt for them, 
 I have never seen them since. Capt. H. B. Blood, 
 Assistant Quartermaster, wrote me after the battle 
 that he had found the wreck of a buggy with some 
 papers under the seat showing that it had belonged 
 to me. 
 
 The best makeshift for a hospital I could find 
 was a big shed with a hayloft above, and there the 
 wounded and dying soldiers were stretched out on 
 the ground side by side. As the surgeons were 
 engaged elsewhere and there seemed to be no one 
 
92 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 in command, I took charge myself. We could do 
 but little for the poor fellows except give them 
 water and make their lot perhaps a little easier 
 until they died or came under a doctor's care. 
 
 While we were caring for the wounded soldiers, 
 a number of cavalrymen rode up and began 
 to throw some hay down from the loft above, 
 scattering dust upon the wounded, and I ordered 
 them to stop. They did not question my author- 
 ity. 
 
 About two o'clock in the afternoon of the next 
 day — the third day of the battle — there com- 
 menced a tremendous cannonade of some three 
 hundred guns in one great battery, to clear the way 
 for a charge on which the Confederates were to 
 stake their all. They did not have enough 
 ammunition to keep the artillery going as long as 
 they had hoped, I learned afterward. Anyway, 
 the cannonade ceased and then began a terrific 
 din — -the rattle of small arms, shouts, yells, or- 
 ders — for Pickett and his men were making their 
 famous charge up Cemetery Hill. I saw the men 
 rushing forward and dropping, wave after wave, 
 each wave gaining a few rods over the last. And 
 then they stopped and seemed almost to clutch, 
 as does a drowning man at a stick, and went down. 
 They were near enough for me to see their faces, 
 and I shall never forget that sight. This time 
 they did not come up again. The waves ebbed; 
 our men ceased to fire; the charge was over — and 
 
The Business Side of War 93 
 
 a failure. The Battle of Gettysburg was won. 
 The Confederate soldiers who reached our lines 
 and were made prisoners, were treated with great 
 kindness by our men, given water out of Federal 
 canteens, and loudly cheered, several of our boys 
 crying, "Welcome back into the Union." After 
 the strain of battle won there was a great lifting of 
 spirits, and a disposition to forgive and forget. 
 In war, it is said, only those who are not in the 
 fighting lines are good haters. When attending 
 the 50th anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg, 
 I met a Confederate and a Union soldier standing 
 together on Cemetery Hill discussing the charge. 
 One remarked, "Fifty years ago we would not 
 have been talking together as two friends at this 
 spot," and I interjected: "Oh, yes, you would," 
 and told them of the Union soldiers handing the 
 Confederates water to drink out of their canteens. 
 
 The Potomac was in flood, and Lee, retreating 
 toward it, short of ammunition, could have been 
 captured had the victory been followed up. At 
 least, so some of Meade's generals thought, and 
 I well remember the disgust of General Wads- 
 worth of New York (the father of Senator Wads- 
 worth). He declared bitterly: 
 
 "I left a wife and children at home — everything. 
 Now here is a chance of ending this war and they 
 are throwing it away." 
 
 Some time later, when General Grant had been 
 ordered east to take command of the Army of the 
 
94 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 Potomac, I had the chance of meeting him. I 
 was stopping at the Jones House in Harrisburg 
 and was informed that the General would probably 
 arrive at one o'clock at night and would stop over 
 to rest until morning. Feeling very sure from 
 my knowledge of him that he would do no such 
 thing, I went down to the station to wait for him, 
 and met him as he came in. He ordered a train 
 to go on to Washington, but while arrangements 
 were being made I had. at least an hour with him. 
 I found him very tired, covered with soot from 
 his long journey, but wholly calm and very ap- 
 proachable. He wanted to talk about Gettysburg 
 and was very much interested in my account of 
 that battle. He agreed that it was a great mis- 
 take not to have followed up Lee and said that, if 
 the battle had been pressed and he had been 
 allowed to finish his cleaning up in the West, 
 the war would have been very materially short- 
 ened. 
 
 For even after Gettysburg, we were not certain 
 of victory and the generals of the Army of the 
 Potomac did not, in the beginning, understand 
 Grant. After the war one of his generals re- 
 lated to me the following instance of Grant's 
 magnanimity. He said that when a number of 
 them heard of his plans for the capture of Vicks- 
 burg, they were so certain of failure that they 
 drew up a round-robin of protest and telegraphed 
 to President Lincoln. Within twenty-four hours 
 
The Business Side of War 95 
 
 Grant had ordered the charge and by night prob- 
 ably the most important victory of the war had 
 been won. That evening the "round-robin" gen- 
 erals gathered in a tent, giving orders to the 
 sentry that no one was to be admitted. They did 
 not know what was going to become of them. 
 They had sent their message to the President but 
 events had proved that Grant had been abso- 
 lutely right and they had been absolutely wrong. 
 There seemed no reason in the world why all of 
 them should not be court-martialled for insub- 
 ordination. It was a glum party. There appar- 
 ently was no hope; they were sitting down 
 silently and dejectedly gazing blankly at each 
 other, when a man smoking a cigar walked past 
 the sentry into the tent. Looking around, he 
 remarked: 
 
 "You look as though you were having a fun- 
 eral." 
 
 It was General Grant. The tension broke and 
 the whole group almost collapsed. Then one of 
 them confessed to General Grant what they had 
 done. He listened with an amused smile, and 
 taking the telegram from his pocket remarked: 
 
 "If that dispatch could have left our field 
 office without my knowledge I would be as great 
 a failure as you seemed to think me. That is the 
 reason I ordered the charge a little earlier than 
 I had intended. You have made a grave mis- 
 take, but I forgive you. Just forget it, as I shall. " 
 
96 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 The general who related this to me in strict 
 confidence as to his name, said: 
 
 "Is it any wonder we worshipped General 
 Grant?" 
 
 Afterward I came to know General Grant 
 well and became very fond of him. It has been 
 my fortune to know all of the presidents since 
 Lincoln. But of that later. 
 
 The business conduct of the Civil War was not 
 without its dark side. While, of course, there 
 are many who would scorn to enrich themselves by 
 taking advantage of the Government's necessities 
 during the cruel strain of war, it is nevertheless 
 notoriously true that the vultures gather where 
 there is a chance for good pickings, and it was 
 true of the Civil War, just as it has been more or 
 less true of nearly all wars. In a number of 
 cases an account of the people who sold supplies 
 to the Government during the Civil War would 
 be little better than a record of crime. When I 
 compare the record then with the record of the 
 present it is to draw from that comparison a 
 picture of the increase in business honesty that 
 has come about with the years. 
 
 In the World War we made many mistakes. 
 Many things cost the Government much more than 
 they should have cost, but a small minority of 
 those who sold to the Government were shameless 
 profiteers and still fewer tried to impose bad 
 goods. Nearly everyone who made anything for 
 
The Business Side of War 97 
 
 the Government during the World War had a 
 feeling of personal responsibility and, where what 
 they made was not up to standard, it was my 
 experience that, as a rule, it was due only to a 
 lack of knowledge of the proper process. And 
 there never was a valid criticism upon the splendid 
 body of dollar-a-year men who supplied the 
 purchases. 
 
 In the Civil War the Government did not re- 
 quire, as compared with to-day, vast quantities 
 of supplies. And as war then was not the very 
 intricate affair that it has since become, these 
 supplies called for comparatively few new processes 
 and did not make any great strain upon the na- 
 tion. Even the limited manufacturing resources 
 of that time had by no means to turn wholly to 
 war. So supplying the Government was more 
 or less an affair of those who chose to undertake 
 that sort of work. Army contracting became a 
 business of itself. Many unprincipled men were 
 attracted to it in the hope of cheating the Govern- 
 ment, and some succeeded. It is particularly 
 reprehensible for men deliberately and shame- 
 lessly to profiteer at the expense of suffering 
 humanity during the thrOes of war; but there 
 were such, for whom the hangman's noose would 
 be a fitting punishment. 
 
 In some cases the contractors formed rings 
 which included government inspectors so that 
 not only was it practically impossible for an out- 
 
98 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 sider to sell at all to the Government, but it was 
 possible for an insider to sell trash. It is safe 
 to say that a number of Union soldiers went to 
 their deaths because a few men thought more of 
 money than they did of life, or honour, or any of 
 those qualities that decent men esteem. I ran 
 into this ring and I beat it. 
 
 My business being very slack, I went to Wash- 
 ington to see what I could do on government con- 
 tracts. Walking through one of the warehouses 
 filled with goods for the hospitals, I was shocked 
 by their poor quality. Many of the chairs had 
 been simply slung together. I saw stretchers 
 that would not bear the weight of a man. It 
 filled me with indignation to think that in our 
 country were men with so little conscience that 
 they could make such rubbish, let alone im- 
 pose it upon the Government with an utter dis- 
 regard of the fact that they might thereby be 
 destroying human life. 
 
 Having always been inclined to go to head- 
 quarters I went to the office of the Medical Pur- 
 veyor, General Sutherland, told him what I had 
 seen, and said I would like to send down a sample 
 of my own work. He gave me a small order which 
 I filled with the very best material and shipped to 
 Washington. One of my friends told me that I 
 should find my goods condemned; that it was 
 impossible to get an order through excepting 
 with the consent of the ring. And, sure enough, 
 
The Business Side of War 99 
 
 the formal notification came back that my whole 
 shipment had been condemned. I took the next 
 train to Washington, went to the warehouse, 
 found my wares shoved back into a corner and 
 then, looking around among the goods that had 
 been passed, picked out a lot of samples. I will 
 admit that I used no uncommon care to pick out 
 the best of the other goods, but what I did pick 
 out had been passed by the government in- 
 spectors and therefore were officially better than 
 mine. 
 
 Having arranged my little exhibit, I went up 
 to see General Sutherland. A clerk tried to keep 
 me out. The ring went so far as to prevent to 
 the best of its ability any outsider reaching the 
 head of the department. But I knocked his 
 hand away and forced my way in to the General. 
 He was in a bad humour, had just received news 
 that a soldier friend of his, wounded in the back, 
 had been killed by the breaking of a litter, and he 
 bitterly turned to me : 
 
 "It seems that your goods are no better than 
 the others." 
 
 "Perhaps not," I answered, "but I expected 
 them to be condemned. I would like you to come 
 down with me to the warehouse and see for your- 
 self." 
 
 This, of course, was a very unusual request to 
 a busy department head. But I think that he 
 had taken a fancy to me, and also that he felt that 
 
100 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 something might be wrong; so he went down with 
 me to my exhibit. I laid one of the litters out of 
 the approved stock across two chairs and asked 
 him to sit on it. That litter, I knew, had a big 
 knot in its rail. As I expected, it broke under 
 his weight. I got one of my litters and asked him 
 to try it. He did so gingerly; then I jumped on it 
 and called pne of the attendants to come and jump 
 on it with me. I knew that my rails had been made 
 of clear white hickory and that they would stand 
 anything. I took a couple of chairs out of the 
 passed stock. The General broke them in his 
 hands. I gave him one of my own chairs and 
 asked him to try to find some way to break it. 
 He sat on it, he jumped on it, and finally threw 
 it high up in the air and let it fall. He could 
 not hurt it and I knew that he could not. 
 
 Then he called the inspector who had con- 
 demned my goods and gave him the most terrific 
 lecture I have ever heard; said that he ought to 
 be court-martialled and thrown out of the place. 
 He gave me a large order and, because he knew that 
 the ring would make it just as inconvenient as 
 possible for me and among other annoyances hold 
 up my payments to force me out of business, he 
 insisted that each bill be sent to him personally, 
 and he sent me his own personal checks drawn on 
 the Treasury of the United States, till the close 
 of the war. 
 
 After the war was over, I wanted to make Gen- 
 
The Business Side of War 101 
 
 eral Sutherland a present of some kind as an 
 evidence of my regard. I had a bureau made in 
 the factory and shipped it to him as a wedding 
 present — for he married when the war ended. In 
 a little while I received a very courteous note 
 thanking me for the bureau, complimenting me 
 on its workmanship — and enclosing a check. He 
 said that he had had a cabinet-maker appraise 
 the article and, although he was very glad indeed 
 to be remembered, he would prefer to pay for it. 
 For, he went on, although he knew my work with 
 the Department was entirely finished and that 
 I expected no favours of any kind, he wanted to 
 keep his hands spotlessly clean. 
 
 I ran into many examples of ring contracting. 
 I took up with Secretary Stanton a number of 
 specific instances which I thought he ought to 
 know about. To my surprise, he said that he 
 was entirely familiar with what was going on. 
 
 "The whole thing," he said, "is rotten clear 
 through. Why, you may not know it, but we 
 even have officers down in the South who are 
 speculating in cotton. I am collecting evidence 
 everywhere; but as things now are, I think the 
 Government would lose more than it would gain 
 if I went into these frauds." 
 
 After the war there were some prosecutions of 
 the more flagrant offenders and it is most unfor- 
 tunate that more of them could not have been 
 gaoled, but I think, on the whole, Secretary Stan- 
 
102 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 ton was right in deciding that he would do better 
 to give his first attention to prosecuting the war 
 rather than to the criminals incident thereto. 
 
 The organization for war was so imperfect and 
 there were so few trained men to assist, that the 
 burden of conducting from behind the lines fell 
 very heavily on the heads of departments. That 
 was before the day when people understood the 
 delegation of responsible authority. There was 
 much suffering for necessaries, even food and 
 clothing — a striking contrast to the abundant 
 supplies furnished our soldiers in the recent World 
 War. 
 
 As far as the North was concerned, the drain 
 upon the man power was not serious. When con- 
 scription went into effect and men might be called 
 between the ages of eighteen and forty -five, at first 
 any man called was permitted, instead of serving, 
 to pay to the Government a sum of money. Most 
 men with families did this. But then the Govern- 
 ment got so much depreciated money and so few 
 soldiers that they had to change the plan and if one 
 did not desire to serve he had to provide a substi- 
 tute. Little difficulty was discovered in getting sub- 
 stitutes at anywhere from $300 to $700 or $800 
 in cash. Where a large proportion of the men in 
 an election district were drafted, the fee for 
 substitutes was high; where there were plenty of 
 men over, the fee was low. It was a common 
 thing for communities to collect a fund to pay 
 
The Business Side of War 103 
 
 substitutes to relieve their district from the 
 draft. Many of those were expecting to volunteer 
 anyway and simply took the substitute money as 
 an additional bounty. In the South the conscrip- 
 tion age extended to fifty, and, since they were 
 compelled to call on practically their entire man 
 power, they felt the war, other things being equal, 
 much more severely than did the North. 
 
 We did not particularly feel the expense of the 
 war. We had a small tax on incomes over $1,000, 
 a sales tax which did not last long, and bonds, 
 of which the Government issued, for then, very 
 large quantities, which were absorbed almost 
 entirely by financial interests under the lead 
 of Jay Cooke. It is true there were adver- 
 tisements of these bonds and those who had 
 money could buy them, but the average man did 
 not buy. Buying was not presented to him as a 
 duty. I think it may safely be said that those 
 who bought did so, not so much from a sense of 
 duty as for investment purposes. This does not 
 apply, of course, to the larger financiers who under- 
 stood the desperate straits in which the Govern- 
 ment was for money. Many of the great banks 
 bought bonds that they did not want. But be- 
 tween the bankers generally and the Treasury De- 
 partment there was not at all a close cooperation. 
 Otherwise the greenbacks need not have been is- 
 sued. 
 
 Prices advanced, although to nothing like such 
 
104 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 an extent as in the recent war: and we had that dis- 
 parity between gold and paper which other coun- 
 tries now have but which we, to-day, know nothing 
 of. For instance, at times it took $2.50 in green- 
 backs to buy one gold dollar. Gold remained the 
 standard and thus we had a double method of reck- 
 oning. Gold was used to pay our import duties 
 and the Government paid the coupons of its bonds 
 in gold, but otherwise the greenback was the legal 
 tender. 
 
 The workman who before the war had been re- 
 ceiving $1.25 a day in gold, after the war received 
 double that in greenbacks, but in gold little more 
 than he formerly received. But we did not then 
 have that curious world-wide phenomenon of the 
 present, in which men generally, working for high 
 wages, are insisting upon doing less work. The 
 men returning from the Civil War, as far as my 
 experience went, were anxious to go to work. 
 They turned to in my shop with a will — glad to get 
 back and glad to have something useful to do. 
 There was work for everyone because, with the 
 close of the war, and the return of the soldiers 
 after the last great review in Washington, the 
 country began to hum with business. A large 
 number of returning soldiers took up land in the 
 West, and all went merrily till the great panic 
 of 1873. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 BUILDING UP AFTEB THE CIVIL WAR 
 
 BETWEEN the conditions at the close of the 
 Civil War and the conditions at the close 
 of the World War are indeed some points of 
 similarity. We had fairly high prices and about 
 the same number of soothsayers predicting that 
 prices immediately would drop and that there 
 would be a return to pre-war conditions. As I 
 look back over all these years in business, it seems 
 to me that the general sentiment has always been 
 that we were going to return sometime or other 
 to something or other, but that under no circum- 
 stances do we ever return to exactly the same con- 
 dition ! 
 
 We had extravagances then, but not on the scale 
 of the present day. I do not know whether that 
 was because there were then not so many things 
 to buy or because people were not so gifted in ex- 
 travagance. Simple habits still held them. Within 
 a little while came the enormous stimulation of 
 the opening of the West. The resources of the 
 country had never really been developed. The 
 war had not grazed them. Men were needed for 
 the building of railways; they were needed every- 
 
 105 
 
106 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 where in constantly increasing numbers, for we 
 were beginning that tremendous expansion on 
 inflated money which culminated in the panic of 
 1873. 
 
 But there was practically nothing of that which 
 we know to-day as "labour unrest." The rest- 
 lessness took itself out in doing work — not in 
 avoiding it. And, judging from the men in my 
 own factory, I should say that their per-man 
 production increased after the war. This, I 
 believe, was the condition all over the country. 
 In fact we produced so much goods that in many 
 lines we were ahead of the facilities for distribution 
 and hence ahead of the consumption of the country, 
 and had distinct "over-production." I hold that 
 "over-production" is only bad distribution. Many 
 people speculated in government securities and in 
 greenbacks. I had a friend in Holland who bought 
 bonds at 45 cents on the dollar in gold and later 
 sold them at 105 in gold. 
 
 This revival of business did not begin the day 
 after peace. It took some little while to get going, 
 but it was a question of months not of years, for, 
 fortunately, we were not burdened with "recon- 
 structors" of the universe as after the late war. 
 The only section that had the misfortune to be 
 "reconstructed" was the South. Had it not 
 been for the assassination of Lincoln, I think that 
 the prosperity of the country would, in spite of 
 the decline in man power in the South, have been 
 
Building Up After the Civil War 107 
 
 general. For that great man, as the war was near- 
 ing its close, had already evolved plans, not for the 
 punishment of the South, but for getting it back 
 into the fold again. Lincoln was not a man who 
 could hold a personal grudge. But it was different 
 with President Johnson. I knew him slightly and, 
 although I try to think well of everyone, I never, 
 then or since, have been able to think well of him. 
 He, too, had risen from a humble origin but, unlike 
 Lincoln, had been narrowed instead of broadened 
 by his experiences. Almost his first words as 
 President were these: 
 
 "The American people must be taught to know 
 and understand that treason is a crime . . . 
 it must not be regarded as a mere difference of 
 political opinion. It must not be excused as an 
 unsuccessful rebellion to be overlooked and for- 
 gotten." 
 
 He sobered greatly with responsibility, but in 
 the beginning he was very radical and was intent 
 on the punishment of the South rather than on the 
 betterment of the whole country. 
 
 In this he was supported by many members of 
 Congress who could not appreciate the larger view 
 of Lincoln or of General Grant. For Grant, too, 
 was a man who believed that a fight is a fight and 
 that when it is over, it is over. Johnson's attitude 
 created many clashes. One day I happened to be 
 in Washington stopping at the Willard Hotel (on 
 the same site as the present New Willard). Gen- 
 
108 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 eral Grant was sitting in the lobby. An aide 
 rushed in and whispered something to him. Hur- 
 riedly the General ran out, jumped on his horse, 
 and galloped away. I knew that something un- 
 usual must be in the air and went over to the 
 War Department to get the news from Stanton's 
 Secretaries, Colonel Pelloze, and my cousin James 
 Hallowell. They told me that a plan had been 
 afoot to arrest General Lee and that General 
 Grant, hearing of it, had gone at once to President 
 Johnson and informed him that Lee had surrend- 
 ered to him at Appomattox Court House and that 
 he had there told him that he would not be dis- 
 turbed at all, but was free to go ahead and help 
 reconstruct his country. And therefore, so Grant 
 informed the President, the army was going to 
 see that these terms were carried out, and intimated 
 that if any one attempted to disturb Lee he would 
 find himself under arrest. That, I believe, was 
 the last of Johnson's idea of arresting Lee. 
 
 Most of my business having been with the 
 South, I began to receive inquiries from some of 
 my old customers who were trying to get back into 
 business. For instance, Captain Borum, of the 
 firm of Borum and McLean, who was the 
 largest merchant in my line in Norfolk, but who 
 had closed up his business during the war and 
 acted as Provost Marshal for Virginia, told me that 
 he wanted to start up again. He owed me a con- 
 siderable sum. He had no money — none of them 
 
Building Up After the Civil War 109 
 
 had any money. I told him that I would give 
 him no trouble on that score and I went down to 
 Norfolk and he invited me to dinner at his home. 
 His sister was at the table with us and in the con- 
 versation it developed that I came from Pennsyl- 
 vania. She asked abruptly: 
 
 "Are you from Pennsylvania?" 
 
 I admitted that I was. Without a word, she got 
 up and walked away. But a child of four or five 
 years old in the room was not so easily convinced. 
 
 "You ain't a Yankee, are you?" she demanded, 
 "'cause they got horns." 
 
 None of the small children in the South had 
 ever seen what their parents called a "Yankee," 
 and I think that they very generally imagined that 
 Yankees were animals quite different from the 
 ordinary human animal. Probably the children 
 in Germany and Austria and France all gained 
 similar ideas of their particular enemies. 
 
 My host was considerably embarrassed by the 
 incident but it only amused me. I chuckled some 
 months later when I heard that this same lady had 
 married a Yankee colonel! 
 
 In all of my journeyings through the South im- 
 mediately after the war I did not find any great 
 bitterness excepting among some of the women. 
 The men were inclined to acknowledge that they 
 were whipped and to accept conditions. This is 
 not to say that they were at all happy about the 
 result — far from it — but the intense feeling against 
 
110 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 the North developed out of the reconstruction — 
 so-called — and not out of the war. 
 
 There were comparatively few able-bodied men 
 about on my first journey to the South. Those 
 who had formerly been rich had shoes, but most 
 of the population, black and white, were barefooted. 
 They had plenty of corn bread and some bacon, 
 but that is all they did have. Their only money 
 was in the worthless Confederate issues. The 
 houses and plantations were run down. During 
 the war there had been nobody to repair them. 
 Now there was no money to pay any one to repair. 
 They were clean; they had the same air as before. 
 But no silver was to be seen — no luxuries — none of 
 the dinners that we would call banquets, which for- 
 merly were the usual affair of the Southern planter. 
 
 At many of the places I visited the Negroes did 
 not understand their freedom; they were in their 
 old places on the farms, many of them being 
 given work on shares, as there was no money to 
 pay them wages. A large export tax on cotton 
 (afterward abrogated as unconstitutional) made 
 the prospects of a crop return very slight, but even 
 had it been otherwise, they were not equipped to 
 raise crops. They had neither fertilizers nor tools. 
 Nearly every bit of iron had been absorbed for 
 military use and it was a common sight to see a 
 Negro ploughing with a piece of iron fastened to a 
 forked stick. The Negroes generally called their 
 employers "master." There was no race hatred 
 
Building Up After the Civil War 111 
 
 and I did not notice any in the South until it 
 became apparent that the law that no one might 
 vote without first taking the oath of allegiance 
 had handed the Government over to the Negroes. 
 Reconstruction was as yet only a word and not a 
 procedure, although the idea of it was sufficiently 
 resented. I remember one sign in a shop window 
 in Richmond which read: 
 
 " What I is, I am — I won't be reconstructed — And I don't 
 care a damn." 
 
 It brought the proprietor a number of customers, 
 of whom, I will admit, I was one. I told him I 
 was a Yankee. 
 
 "Oh, you a Yankee? If they were all like you 
 I would not have the sign up." 
 
 This motto afterward became something of a 
 slogan. During that first trip I got a very fair 
 assortment of orders, mostly on a credit basis, the 
 terms frequently being one half to be paid in the 
 next fall and the other half in the fall after that. 
 And I may say that I lost very little on this busi- 
 ness. Those planters and merchants who could not 
 pay when their notes became due renewed, but 
 eventually practically all of them paid. 
 
 On my next trip through the South, a year or 
 two later, conditions had changed for the worse and 
 the "carpet-baggers" were in complete control in 
 many sections. These men must have been blood 
 brothers to the members of the rascally contractor 
 
112 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 rings, for they showed the same evidence of having 
 none of the attributes commonly thought to be 
 necessary in a human being. Sometimes they 
 held offices but more often they had Negroes in the 
 political offices and they managed the Negroes, very 
 few of whom could read or write and who, though 
 as a rule honest in intention, were so puffed up 
 with power that they let the rascals do quite what 
 they liked. 
 
 For instance, in Augusta, Ga., they levied a 
 special tax and the carpet-bagger bosses divided 
 up the whole proceeds. Several instances were 
 brought to my attention where this scheme was 
 worked. The reconstruction of the South was 
 seriously delayed by such methods. Reputable 
 people were not in office, because they could not take 
 the "iron-clad" oath of allegiance, which required 
 their testifying they had never taken up arms against 
 the Government. The conditions were really intol- 
 erable, but what made them harder to bear was that 
 the North received most of its reports at second 
 hand through fanatics who were revengefully 
 intent upon punishing the South. It was during 
 this time that the real bitterness between North 
 and South began; before this time only the women 
 and a few men here and there felt very strongly or 
 had anything approaching hate; but now, with the 
 war over, the shocking injustice of the methods of 
 government, all of which were laid at the feet of 
 the North, made the feeling acute. Of course, the 
 
Building Up After the Civil War 113 
 
 difficulty primarily was that the South was unable 
 to take the oath of allegiance. Their pride stood 
 in the way. The regular government failing to 
 function and the people being exposed to every 
 adventurer, they, after a time, took the law into 
 their own hands and organized the Ku Klux Klan, 
 an outlaw, masked, night-riding organization, but in 
 reality a vigilance committee — the only apparent 
 method of ensuring that justice was done and that 
 politicians did not steal under the guise of the law. 
 
 Like all secret, irresponsible bodies, in some cases 
 it did harm but, on the other hand, it also did much 
 to check certain kinds of rascality. The Federal 
 Government vigorously hunted down and pun- 
 ished the members, since any extra-legal govern- 
 ment was regarded as quite out of the question. 
 But the Ku Klux Klan numbered many worthy 
 men who saw no other way of bettering conditions. 
 Take the case of Colonel Ellison S. Keitt of New- 
 berry, S. C. I had known him before the war in 
 both a business and social way. He telegraphed 
 me from Washington to meet him there. As 
 soon as I had shaken hands, he said : 
 
 "I want you to go with me to see President 
 Grant." 
 
 I asked him what was up, and he went on: 
 
 "I am supposed to be in Albany Penitentiary. 
 I escaped arrest only because I was not at home." 
 
 He had been the head of one of the Ku Klux 
 Klans, and his fellow members had been arrested 
 
114 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 and sentenced to the Albany Penitentiary. I asked 
 him if he was not afraid he would be jailed if he 
 made himself known to the President. He said 
 he would take his chances; that he was at Appo- 
 mattox at the time of the surrender, that General 
 Grant had patted his horse on the head and made a 
 remark to him to the effect that he was to take the 
 horse home and use it on the farm; that the General 
 seemed to take a fancy to the horse, which had a 
 white spot on the side of its head, and that if the 
 President did not remember him, he knew he 
 would remember the horse. 
 
 Keitt and I gained an audience with the Presi- 
 dent. Colonel Keitt spoke of the meeting at Appo- 
 mattox and asked the President if he remembered 
 the horse. The President replied: 
 
 "Yes, the horse had a white patch on the side 
 of his head." 
 
 Colonel Keitt then reminded Grant of his having 
 been at one time the head of a vigilance committee 
 in Indiana which ran down and sometimes hanged 
 horse thieves. 
 
 "Now our Ku Klux has not hanged or shot 
 anybody," said the Colonel, "but we discipline the 
 Negroes and others who are led by an old scalawag, 
 formerly a Negro trader, by the name of Ben Cruse. 
 The officer in charge of the military around us is 
 just as big a rascal as Ben Cruse, and we have to 
 have the Ku Klux to protect our firesides. I 
 think you will recognize it is just as necessary for 
 
Building Up After the Civil War 115 
 
 us to protect our women and children as it was to 
 protect horses in Indiana." 
 
 General Grant at first pretended to be angry, but 
 finally he had to laugh as he said: 
 
 "Yes, Colonel, I will grant that, but it is a bad 
 business. If I pardon your men will you disband 
 your Ku Klux?" 
 
 This Keitt promised to do if Grant would send 
 some officer of good character down there and 
 arrest Cruse. Grant answered: 
 
 "Very well, I will look into it, Colonel. In the 
 meantime I will pardon you; as far as you are 
 concerned you can go back with safety, and when I 
 have investigated what you say I will take steps 
 to remedy the situation." 
 
 Some time afterward Colonel Keitt called at my 
 house and said he had come to thank me, that 
 everything in his home neighbourhood was at 
 peace, that they had sent an officer of high char- 
 acter down there and that Ben Cruse was arrested 
 and in jail. I told the Colonel it was not me he 
 should thank, but the President. He said that of 
 course he had stopped to see the President but 
 came on up to thank me. I took the Colonel over 
 to a neighbour, Grier Hersh, and we talked over 
 things connected with the war, and Mr. Hersh 
 took us out to explain the new game of golf, a 
 course for which he had just started. It was the 
 first golf course started in York, and the first 
 time it had come to my attention. 
 
116 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 The golf course was in a beautiful field in the 
 rear of Mr. Hersh's house, with nine holes, and 
 various bunkers erected. When I first saw the 
 game I regarded the idea of rational men leaving 
 their businesss and walking over a field to hit a ball 
 with a stick as being quite absurd, but Mr. Hersh 
 invited me to try a round with him. Within ten 
 minutes after we commenced I was infatuated 
 with it, and have loved it ever since, and would 
 recommend it to everyone who has the opportunity 
 to play as the best possible exercise. Your troubles 
 all vanish and you think of nothing else. I used 
 to leave my office and drive to his golf course nearly 
 every afternoon to play a round, and now I have a 
 golf course on my place. 
 
 Alexander H. Stephens, after the war, took a 
 firm stand in favour of reconstruction. He de- 
 livered an address at Atlanta while I was there. 
 Several of our friends had told me that the 
 South was not ready for such a speech as Stephens 
 was certainly going to deliver, and there was 
 going to be some fun. I had intended to go to 
 the meeting anyway, and this decided me. His 
 speech was eloquent and persuasive, but there 
 were some cat calls, and when he made an 
 eloquent defence of the fathers of the Govern- 
 ment and the founders of our country, a man 
 yelled out: 
 
 "You are nothing but a damned Yankee; I 
 could eat such a little fellow as you are." 
 
Building Up After the Civil War 117 
 
 Stephens smiled and quietly remarked in his 
 inimitable and penetrating voice: 
 
 " If you did, you would have more brains in your 
 belly than you ever had in your head." 
 
 This created an uproarious laugh and he was not 
 interrupted again in his speech. 
 
 I took a great interest in reconstruction of the 
 South, and was among those who encouraged 
 Horace Greeley to advocate shaking hands across 
 the bloody chasm. 
 
 Governor Joe Brown of Georgia was arrested 
 and brought to Washington, having to be brought 
 in around from the West by way of Pittsburgh, 
 coming down through Harrisburg on the Pennsyl- 
 vania Railroad, passing through York. I took the 
 train at York, and was introduced to him by the 
 officer in charge, who knew me as a friend of 
 General Thomas, who, by the way, was a resident 
 of York during the early days of the war. Gover- 
 nor Brown had been at heart opposed to the sepa- 
 ration and believed that some means should have 
 been found to unite the country. I spoke to him of 
 the suffering at Anderson ville Prison. He replied 
 that the accounts were not exaggerated. I must 
 bear in mind, however, that provisions were very 
 scarce and the feeling toward the North was bitter; 
 but that, in spite of all, he had notified the au- 
 thorities that he would open the prison gates and 
 release the men if they could not be properly fed 
 and cared for. We stopped off at Baltimore. 
 
118 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 There were no through connections then. We 
 got off at Calvert Station, and had about two 
 hours in Baltimore before the train left for Wash- 
 ington. The officer in charge asked the Governor 
 where he would like to go for dinner, and he said 
 he preferred the Barnum Hotel, which was then at 
 the Square, on Calvert Street near Baltimore Street. 
 The officer said that he and his companions were 
 going to the Eutaw House and asked Brown to join 
 them at the Camden Station at three o'clock. The 
 Governor went with me wholly without guard. I 
 asked him how it was that they had arrested him 
 and were taking him to Washington and yet he 
 was allowed to go without guard. He said : 
 
 "I am under the strongest guard that could pos- 
 sibly surround me — my word of honour that I 
 would not attempt to escape." 
 
 The North and the South did not know each 
 other. Charles Lamb said if you know a man you 
 cannot hate him. Had there been more inter- 
 course between the two sections of the country 
 there would have been no war. Some of my South- 
 ern friends directly after the war stayed with me in 
 York en route north. They went as far as Boston. 
 I begged them to visit me on returning and let me 
 have their impressions of the North. They did. 
 In glowing terms they said that in Boston they 
 were treated as well as they would have been in 
 New Orleans and Savannah — then celebrated for 
 their hospitality and courtesy. 
 
Building Up After the Civil War 119 
 
 Once when in Savannah I went out to the ceme- 
 tery, which is a beautiful place. I was feeling a 
 little lonesome and noticed a party of young men 
 and girls together talking. I could not resist 
 the temptation to join them. I was received ex- 
 actly as though I had known them all my life and 
 had two or three invitations to supper at their 
 homes. 
 
 Once I arrived in New Orleans, late of a rainy 
 night. When I had collected my baggage at the 
 Jackson Station the last conveyance had gone — 
 there were no street cars. They told me at the 
 station that they did not see anything to it but for 
 me to stay at the station all night — there of course 
 were no telephones and the streets were very 
 muddy. I saw a carriage passing and hailed it. 
 It stopped and took me and my baggage in. I re- 
 marked to the occupants — it was too dark to see 
 who they were: 
 
 " Please let me drive you to your home and then 
 I will have the driver take me to the St. Charles 
 Hotel, and also have the privilege of paying for the 
 carriage." 
 
 "The carriage happens to be my own, and I 
 will take you to your hotel first." 
 
 She was the wife of A. T. Baldwin, the noted 
 merchant and banker of New Orleans. I took 
 dinner at their house by Mr. Baldwin's invitation 
 the next night and had a very happy evening. 
 
 Business methods during this time did not greatly 
 
120 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 change from those that had preceded the war; 
 but a very decided change in spirit was grad- 
 ually making itself manifest — the beginning of that 
 change which is reflected in the enormous industry 
 of the country to-day. Before the war we had 
 been more or less content to amble on. We were 
 in the New World but essentially we were of the 
 Old World. Our methods were almost exactly 
 patterned after those of England and we had not 
 really developed a "business personality" of our 
 own. 
 
 In this period, running from the close of the war 
 to the Great Panic, we more than anything else 
 developed a new outlook on business. We began 
 to feel that business could and ought to be done 
 in a large way; that we had to get out more goods 
 per man; and thus the urge developed that re- 
 sulted later in the invention of so much labour- 
 saving machinery. 
 
 Many causes went toward the creation of this 
 new atmosphere of business. First, we began to 
 know in an intimate way that we were members of 
 a great country. We had previously known the 
 West — at least, we knew it was there. But I im- 
 agine that we held it more as a hinterland than as 
 a part of our country — a region to go into and get 
 things and come back from, rather than a real dwell- 
 ing place. The building of railroads was chang- 
 ing all this and the demands for materials were 
 so great that we simply had to visualize business 
 
Building Up After the Civil War 121 
 
 on a large scale. If our population had been 
 denser, probably we should have met the situa- 
 tion by employing more men. But the industrial 
 population was really very small — we were a na- 
 tion of farmers. It is probable that, scouring the 
 country from end to end, you could have discov- 
 ered few factory workmen who had not had farm- 
 ing experience. 
 
 My own business expanded steadily and espe- 
 cially in the making of threshing machines with 
 separating attachments which the increasingly 
 large areas that were coming under cultivation, the 
 shortage of man power, and the introduction of 
 the reaper raised steadily into favour. In addition 
 we made all of our old lines — drills, cultivators, 
 ploughs, horse mowers, and the like — and as soon 
 as steam engines became of practical driving power 
 for farm use, we began to make them. In farming 
 machinery generally America was then, as now, 
 far ahead of the rest of the world, and our commis- 
 sion agents, who had been unable to do any business 
 through the war, and who discovered that, with 
 peace, the Europeans had captured most of their 
 old markets, found the introduction of American 
 agricultural machinery a factor in winning their 
 way back into foreign markets. 
 
 By the early '70's I began to have a large export 
 trade through the commission merchants; and 
 it was a particularly good trade because they 
 paid cash on the docks and took over all of the 
 
122 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 credit risks. My own factory was turning out 
 fully twice as much as before the war and that 
 was more or less the condition through all lines 
 of manufacture. But we were very far away from 
 really scientific manufacture and we knew little 
 of organization. 
 
 Always an opponent of waste, I tried to develop 
 a cost system and did manage to keep a record 
 of the cost of raw material and labour and I 
 covered my overhead expense by adding 25 per 
 cent, to the naked cost of material and labour. 
 With all our advance in cost accounting, I find 
 little practical improvement upon my old method. 
 In those days, as a rule, little account was taken 
 of overhead expense or, as the English call it, 
 "burden." But that really was not a serious 
 omission because the overhead charges were 
 extremely low. For instance, I was proprietor, 
 superintendent, foreman, office manager, cost 
 accountant, and bookkeeper. When, later, I had 
 foremen, they paid their own wages out of the pro- 
 fits from apprentices. The apprentice — and we 
 had a great many of them — was paid only a nom- 
 inal weekly amount, say $2 the first year, $2.50 
 the second, $3 the third, and $4 the fourth year. 
 Many of the apprentices of that day, in their 
 second or third year, receiving $2.50 or $3 a 
 week, with the improved tools of to-day, could 
 do as much as many of our skilled mechanics did 
 then. 
 
Building Up After the Civil War 123 
 
 We did not understand anything of the possi- 
 bilities of economies to be gained by increasing 
 the overhead. It was many years later before 
 Carnegie really revolutionized American industry 
 by employing experimental chemists and experts 
 and thereby accumulated an overhead that we 
 could not at that time have comprehended. But 
 other wastes we did avoid. We would not employ 
 a man who did not do a full day's work. The 
 loafer had no place in our industrial system. 
 And also we were very careful not to waste ma- 
 terials. It may be that we often were wasteful 
 of labour and held down production by trying to 
 save materials. In a word, we practised an ap- 
 parent rather than a scientific thrift. 
 
 None of us spared himself. I lived next door 
 to the factory and did all of the office work at 
 night and in the early morning. Of course we 
 did not have telephone or electric power and we 
 used the telegraph very sparingly. Kerosene 
 torches provided light throughout most of the 
 factory; we did have gas lights in the office and 
 in a portion of the factory. I advertised in most 
 of the trade journals and in the agricultural 
 journals, but our advertisements were what to-day 
 would be considered "cards." Also I got out 
 what was considered a very comprehensive and 
 well illustrated catalogue. Frequently I found, 
 on my sales trips, farm libraries consisting of 
 the Bible, an almanac, and Farquhar's catalogue! 
 
124 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 Indeed, my catalogue had in it a great deal of 
 almanac information. 
 
 Just as before the war, I was both sales manager 
 and salesman; there was no delegation of authority. 
 By the time that the men arrived in the morning, 
 which was promptly at seven o'clock, I had 
 wound up the office work and was in the factory, 
 directing the actual work of production, helping 
 the men wherever necessary, and hardly to be 
 distinguished from the other workmen excepting 
 that I wore leather gloves to protect my hands 
 from cuts and bruises that might interfere with my 
 office duties. And we did get our work out. I 
 never permitted it to be said that we could not 
 supply goods from lack of raw materials. 
 
 "The material is here," was my universal answer, 
 pounding my desk, to any excuse as to the lack 
 of material. By that I meant that it was my 
 place to get the material — and I got it. It never 
 occurred to me that the work was hard; although, 
 as a matter of fact, I worked very much harder 
 than any man I employed. I think that it is 
 part of the responsibility of management for the 
 manager to do more than any one else does. In 
 these days of larger organization, he may have to 
 do his more in a different way; but still he should 
 do more. And that is not hard, for an absorbing 
 interest takes the drudgery out of work. As 
 Emerson says: "To the man intent upon his work, 
 the snow is but a colour." And that applies both 
 
Building Up After the Civil War 125 
 
 to the work and to the obstacles that might seem 
 to interfere with work. 
 
 Working with the men, I knew all of them 
 by name and if they thought that my manage- 
 ment was too severe — though it never was — they 
 had only to reflect that I never asked any 
 man to do more than what I did myself. In 
 these days I think there is too much coddling 
 all around. I think employers and managers 
 coddle themselves and devote far too much time 
 to the contemplating of whether or not they are 
 injuring themselves by overwork. And likewise, 
 and for the same reason, there is too much coddling 
 of employees. I do not regard ten hours as an 
 excessive day's work and I think that ten hours 
 of hard, interest-holding work is not as arduous 
 or tiring as eight hours of dawdling. I have no 
 patience at all with the prevailing precautions 
 that managers and men take against over-work. 
 I have always worked more than ten hours a 
 day and find myself younger and fresher than 
 many men of half my age who have assiduously 
 protected themselves from over-exertion. 
 
 "Work," as Doctor Osier once said, "is the 
 Master- Word." It has been practised by every 
 man who has honestly succeeded. Work is 
 the panacea and the worker is the founda- 
 tion of society. The drone, organized or unor- 
 ganized, is a worm that eats into this foundation, 
 complaining bitterly as it does so. In those days 
 
126 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 all of us worked. Every man, even the sons of 
 the rich, was expected to know a trade. As 
 Carlyle remarked, "There are but two ways of 
 getting a living, a man must either work or steal." 
 
 The rich man was looked up to with the deepest 
 respect because he was thought to have gained his 
 wealth by the possession and use of such superior 
 personal qualities as entitled him to respect. In York, 
 Philip A. and Samuel Small were our rich men. 
 They had a big hardware shop with numerous side 
 lines and did vastly more business than any other 
 firm in the community. They were worth well 
 over a million, while I doubt if the next richest 
 firm possessed a fourth of that amount. P. A. S. 
 Franklin, president of the International Mer- 
 cantile Marine Company, was named after his 
 grandfather P. A. Small. 
 
 The respect for the rich was very deep and 
 thorough. I well remember how indescribably 
 shocked the people were when the town drunk- 
 ard, exceedingly belligerent, announced in the 
 public square as the most original, independent, 
 and contemptuous declaration he could make to 
 society in general: 
 
 "I don't care a damn for Shammy Small." 
 
 Those words read him out of any possible com- 
 munication with his fellow men and marked him 
 as some kind of a lower animal. For how could a 
 human being hold such sentiments? 
 
 Shortly after the Civil War broke out, a group 
 
Building Up After the Civil War 127 
 
 of countrymen came solemnly into town and 
 waited on Samuel Small to request him to proceed 
 to Washington and stop the war! People in gen- 
 eral could not conceive of anything that he could 
 not do. The great influence of the House of Smalls 
 in the community arose more from their high char- 
 acter and liberality than from their wealth, al- 
 though wealth was looked upon with more respect 
 then than it is now. Large corporations were re- 
 garded with great respect and he was a very bold 
 person who undertook to oppose them. For in- 
 stance, one day the railroad — and the railroad was 
 at that time an uncommonly arbitrary institution 
 — capriciously refused to deliver coal, for much 
 the same reason that the Negro floor manager 
 every little while clapped his hands and stopped 
 the dance for a few minutes — that is, just to show 
 that he had the authority to do it. I spoke to 
 one of the Smalls about what the railroad was 
 doing and he replied gravely: 
 
 "It is a very dangerous thing to fight a fellow 
 much bigger than yourself." 
 
 I replied: 
 
 "It depends on whether or not you are on the 
 right side." 
 
 I have never found that size is of moment in a 
 business dispute, provided that you have the confi- 
 dence of being in the right. Some of the rich people 
 on account of all the homage became acutely purse 
 proud. It was hard for them to be otherwise. 
 
128 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 But the Smalls never allowed their wealth to get 
 the better of them; they remained simple, solid 
 men. 
 
 Like most rich merchants in those days, they 
 were also more or less involuntary hankers. The 
 farmers were very apt to leave money with them 
 instead of in the bank and, since this money could 
 be forwarded to New York and put out on interest 
 at 7 per cent., while the legal rate in Pennsylvania 
 was only 6 per cent., the operation of receiving 
 money was not unprofitable. In the panic of 
 1873 hundreds of farmers and small business men 
 drew their money out from the banks and 
 gave it to the Smalls. The same thing happened 
 to Andrew Carnegie in the panic of 1907. In fact, 
 he had to engage a man merely to keep account of 
 the money that was sent to him for safe keeping by 
 people that he did not know and had never heard of. 
 
 Business went forward rapidly; so rapidly that 
 everyone began to talk of the marvellous prosperity 
 and became a little conceited about it. And they 
 wondered whether the years to come would bring 
 forth the inventions and the numerous progresses 
 of the years that had passed. We lived buoyantly 
 and only a very few gave much thought as to what 
 we were really living on or whether the foundations 
 of our prosperity were planted in sand or on rock. 
 The panic of 1873 answered that question. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 ASIDE FROM BUSINESS 
 
 THE biggest, fullest life of our family — no 
 matter what we might do — was always in 
 the home. My earliest and fondest recol- 
 lections are of Mother and Father, who were the 
 embodiment of ldndness and solicitude for the wel- 
 fare of their children, who devoted themselves to 
 our training, and who made a home to which, 
 when grown, we delighted to return. Both our 
 duties and our recreations were given careful 
 oversight, and mental training received more than 
 the ordinary attention. Books were our daily 
 companions and have continued during the whole 
 of my life, to be my greatest single pleasure. My 
 father's injunction when I left home, never to love 
 a dollar better than a book, has been faithfully 
 heeded — but not consciously so, because I needed 
 no such admonition. He and my mother planted 
 within their children a love of knowledge and of 
 reading that has never deserted a single one of 
 them. My father was a man of learning, inter- 
 ested in intellectual pursuits, a companion and 
 exemplar to his children, while my mother was 
 in every way a fitting helpmeet. Their attach- 
 
 129 
 
130 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 ment commenced with my mother's teaching my 
 father French in their young days. He was then a 
 Latin and Greek scholar, but had paid little atten- 
 tion to French. Under my mother's instructions 
 he learned rapidly, and probably he needed no urg- 
 ing from outside to attend the sessions ! 
 
 While, as was the case with many young country 
 lads of that day, as it is of this, my youthful am- 
 bitions could see little opportunity for making 
 progress in the limited scope of rural environment, 
 I did not leave home without considerable reluc- 
 tance and much heartburning. It meant the 
 breaking of the tender ties which bound me to the 
 loved place where Mother was, and I knew, and she 
 knew, that, once they were thus so definitely broken, 
 home could never be quite the same again. It 
 would continue to be, so long as my mother and 
 father were there, a place to which one would love 
 to return, but I knew it could be so but for a brief 
 sojourn and the sense of permanence was gone. 
 When the children grow up and leave the home 
 nest is one of the distressing experiences of life 
 — an experience that I have now gone through 
 myself. For the young it is but a temporary 
 sorrow — for the old or ageing a poignant grief, 
 to be concealed under a cheerful exterior for 
 the child's sake, but none the less real and 
 lasting. 
 
 After I came to York I wrote to my parents 
 regularly and visited them as frequently as I could 
 
Aside From Business 131 
 
 find opportunity, but I have felt regret that I did 
 not write more often to my mother. It is the 
 common experience to feel, when the voice that 
 we loved is still and the spirit that we knew is 
 no more of this earth, that we should, for our 
 sakes and theirs, have been more attentive, more 
 affectionate. However, my brothers and sister 
 were still at home, and none of us were widely 
 separated, although York then was much farther 
 away from Sandy Spring in point of time than it 
 is now. Since acquiring the old homestead of 
 my great-grandfather in the community of Sandy 
 Spring, I have frequently made the trip by automo- 
 bile in three hours or less over the improved roads 
 of to-day, but in the old days, by horse and buggy 
 on the rough roads of the period, it would take me 
 two days. 
 
 As previously I mentioned, my introduction to 
 York was made easier through my family's acquaint- 
 ance with Mr. Edward Jessop, who in 1856 was a 
 partner in a hardware firm in Baltimore. It had 
 been arranged that I should meet Mr. Jessop in 
 Baltimore and go with him to York, where he had a 
 country home which he visited every Friday night, 
 returning Monday morning. 
 
 The journey from Baltimore would be con- 
 sidered tedious and slow in this day of rapid trips, 
 but to me it was full of interest. Travelling on a 
 train was a wonderful adventure. I have always 
 enjoyed railway journeys, and I find that even 
 
132 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 to-day after hundreds of thousands of miles of 
 it, riding on a train is a rest to me. 
 
 We reached York near midnight on the 4th of 
 April, 1856, going from the depot to the home of 
 Edward Jessop's father, Jonathan Jessop, then 
 retired, who lived in York, having sold his country- 
 place, about two miles outside the town, to his son 
 Edward. Jonathan Jessop, by the way, had been 
 much interested in the propagation of fruits. He 
 had a nursery on the country place, and was the 
 discoverer and developer of the York Imperial 
 Apple, celebrated for its excellent keeping qualities 
 and fine flavour when permitted fully to ripen 
 during the winter. About a year ago a stone with 
 a tablet bearing an inscription relating this incident 
 was erected on the farm, the unveiling being at- 
 tended by officials of the state and citizens of this 
 and other counties and states interested in fruit 
 culture. 
 
 Saturday morning early, a conveyance from the 
 Jessop home called for us, and we drove out to the 
 place, which I thought very attractive with its 
 abundance of fruit and shade trees and ornamental 
 shrubbery. The warmth of my reception was most 
 grateful to a rather homesick boy. Here I got the 
 first glimpse of my future wife, who impressed me 
 more than any one I had ever met. There were ten 
 children in their family — four girls: Elizabeth, 
 Hannah, Caroline, and Jeanette; and six boys: 
 Charles, William, Jonathan, Samuel, Francis, and 
 
Aside From Business 133 
 
 Alfred. It was a bright and lively gathering as 
 we sat down to breakfast that Saturday morning, 
 serving to drive away any feeling of homesickness. 
 It was taken for granted that I should stay with 
 them over Sunday, or at least until Sunday evening, 
 when I should have to go to town in order to be 
 ready to start at my work early the following 
 morning. 
 
 The time at the Jessop home passed very quickly 
 and very pleasantly. My employer and future 
 partner in the business, William Dingee, had been 
 invited out on Sunday to spend the day so that we 
 might become acquainted. There were newspapers, 
 magazines, and an abundance of other .reading 
 matter. Edward Jessop, my future father-in-law, 
 was an intellectual man, president of a coal com- 
 pany as well as of a hardware establishment in Bal- 
 timore, and was considered an authority on mining 
 engineering. I was treated just as a member of 
 the family, and was invited to come out Saturday 
 evenings and spend my Sundays with them, a cus- 
 tom which I readily fell into and kept up until the 
 time of my marriage, four years later. The family 
 were musical, and after returning from the Friends' 
 . Meeting in York (Edward Jessop was a member of 
 the Friends) we spent the time with music and 
 in reading and conversation. As was the case at 
 my own home, a good deal of attention was paid to 
 the education of the children of the household. 
 They were given tasks which would occupy a por- 
 
134 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 tion of the day, and had a teacher or governess. 
 Elizabeth Jessop almost immediately engaged my 
 attention and regard. She struck me as the most 
 attractive girl I had ever seen, with wonderful eyes, 
 and a mass of beautiful black curls. She was full 
 of life, and like myself a lover of music, books, and 
 reading. She had a lovely voice. 
 
 Edward Jessop had found me a boarding place 
 in an attractive portion of the town on the main 
 street not far from the place at which I was to work, 
 at the home of a Mrs. Immel, a widow, where I 
 was received very much as one of the family. 
 I remained there until my marriage. I had a com- 
 fortable and attractive room looking out on the 
 street, for which I paid $2.50 a week, including 
 board, washing, and mending. I got Mrs. Immel's 
 consent to erect a little observatory on the roof, 
 the stairway to the roof being just outside my 
 room, and there I continued my astronomical 
 studies. I was busy in making a chart of the heav- 
 ens when I came to York — I have always been 
 greatly interested in astronomy and I knew the 
 constellations and all the principal stars by 
 name. Then, too, their places being unchanged, 
 they served as a sort of link with the home 
 folks. I knew they would be looking at the same 
 stars. 
 
 I was on friendly terms with the workmen in 
 the shop. I began in the woodworking depart- 
 ment. The amount paid was nominal. I remem- 
 
Aside From Business 135 
 
 ber it was a quarter of a dollar a day for the first 
 year, and it was proposed to advance it to 33f cents 
 the second year, but as I was made assistant man- 
 ager after a year's experience, they gave me $3 a 
 week for the second year, which was an unusual 
 sum to pay an apprentice in those days. Then I 
 became self-supporting — and have been so ever 
 since. During this period I tried all sorts of ex- 
 periments in diet, sometimes eating no meat, then 
 trying but two meals a day, in an endeavour to find 
 out what was best for me. I have since concluded 
 that the best diet is the diet one likes best! 
 
 In looking back on those days and comparing 
 with to-day, they seem to have been most demo- 
 cratic and simple. I made up my mind that, 
 while being friendly with everyone, I should not be 
 hasty in making close friends until I knew the 
 people. It happened that the first house I entered 
 in the town, aside from that of Grandfather Jessop, 
 was that of Philip A. Small. It was my habit in 
 the evening to bathe, dress, and take a walk up 
 street before starting in with my books, and I thus 
 met Mr. Small in the street. As already men- 
 tioned, he was one of York's leading citizens. 
 Seeing me, he addressed me by name, somewhat 
 to my surprise. I asked him how he knew me. 
 Of course, everyone knew him. He said that he 
 had dined with a cousin of mine in Baltimore the 
 evening before, who had inquired about me, and he 
 was glad to be able to tell him that I was doing 
 
136 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 well and had already attracted notice as a stu- 
 dious young fellow interested in astronomy. 
 
 Mr. Small invited me to stop in and see the 
 family. One of his daughters, a lovely girl, was 
 the most intimate friend of my future wife, which 
 made the introduction all the more agreeable. The 
 youngest daughter, afterward the mother of P. A. S. 
 Franklin, now the head of the International Mer- 
 cantile Marine Company, was then a girl in short 
 dresses. She was reading in a magazine an article 
 that set up the natural perversity of inanimate 
 things. I entered into an argument with her. I 
 urged that Nature was not cruel but kind, and 
 that there was no perversity. We then had a little 
 talk on phrenology, a science in which I had always 
 been interested. Some time afterward she asked 
 me to examine her head and write out a chart of 
 her character, which I did. I told her I would 
 have to rumple up her hair very much," and so we 
 went upstairs and while I was busy examining her 
 head and taking notes, one of the sisters came in and 
 exclaimed : 
 
 "Why, what in the world are you doing!" 
 
 "Simply trying to find out what sort of man she 
 ought to marry!" I replied. 
 
 Young people in those days were much more 
 sociable than they are now, or at least there seemed 
 to be more real friendliness in the relations. While 
 to-day there may be more social activity, it seems 
 to me to be of a hectic nature with few real attach- 
 
Aside From Business 137 
 
 ments. In the days of my youth we were closer 
 together. Dancing was one of the diversions 
 then as it is now, but the vulgar dances now prac- 
 tised in certain places were unknown. Social 
 clubs, at which there were lively discussions of 
 literary topics, were popular. I was president of 
 the Addison Society, one of these. Our holi- 
 days were occupied with simple diversions, often 
 outdoors. On the Fourth of July a band of 
 music would be engaged and the people would 
 go off on a picnic to some grove in the neighbour- 
 hood; patriotic addresses would be made, the 
 Declaration of Independence and Washington's 
 Farewell Address would be read, and the families 
 would gather together with their friends for a 
 picnic lunch on the ground. We would find a 
 dance floor in a neighbouring barn — York County 
 was famous for the size of its barns — and the 
 young people, and often many of the older ones, 
 would join in a Virginia reel, ladies' chain, polka, 
 schottische, or mazurka. 
 
 It was the custom in those days to devote New 
 Year's Day to calls. Every man was expected to 
 stop work at noon and call on his friends in the 
 afternoon. I got so used to doing this that I have 
 continued it ever since, although the custom is 
 now no longer practised. On New Year's Day of 
 last year, or rather the first day of the present year, 
 I decided to call on the newly installed pastor of 
 one of our prominent churches. I had not met 
 
138 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 him nor he me, but many of his new friends and 
 parishioners were my friends. When I rang the bell 
 he came to the door and very cordially invited me in 
 and we sat by the open fire chatting for some time. 
 After a little while he said : 
 
 "Oh, I know you now. You are Mr. Farquhar." 
 We had a very pleasant little visit together. 
 Some days afterward the Pastor's wife met me on 
 the street. She told me she had heard about the 
 call, but that New Year's calls should always be 
 on the ladies. I told her that I had asked for her 
 but she was not at home, and that I had a very 
 enjoyable chat with her husband, but I promised 
 to call on her, which I did, and found her equally 
 attractive. 
 
 It was early in the spring of 1860 that I became 
 engaged to be married to Elizabeth Jessop. I had 
 never faltered in my devotion from the first glimpse 
 I had of her when her father took me to his home, 
 and I was a proud and happy man when I found 
 that my regard was returned. We fixed upon the 
 early autumn as the time for our marriage, which 
 took place on the 26th of September at her home. 
 The beautiful Quaker marriage ceremony was used : 
 "In the presence of the Lord and before these 
 Friends, I take Elizabeth N. Jessop to be my wife, 
 promising with Divine assistance to be unto her 
 a faithful and loving husband until death shall 
 separate us." This was repeated by both of us, 
 and the certificate signed by all those present. 
 
Aside From Business 139 
 
 Upon our return from our wedding journey — a 
 trip to Niagara Falls — we- started housekeeping in 
 a house which I had rented about half a block up 
 the street from our present office. As an example 
 of the rents of that day — I paid for the house, which 
 was new and commodious, just $84 a year. Of 
 course there were rumours of impending trouble 
 between the North and the South, and there was 
 some doubt expressed by our parents and friends 
 of the wisdom of marrying just at that time, but 
 we were ready to take the risk. The war clouds 
 darkened very rapidly, and war came on apace, 
 breaking out shortly after the election of President 
 Lincoln. The depression in business which im- 
 mediately followed caused us some anxiety, but as 
 we were young and sanguine, of cheerful disposition, 
 had plenty of clothes, coal in the cellar, and an am- 
 ple supply of provisions, we lived very cheaply. 
 My wife cooked the meals and I attended to the 
 fires in the morning. My wife's mother had been 
 careful to give her thorough training in the very 
 useful art of cookery and the care of the household. 
 It seems to me that this is one of the essentials in 
 the training of girls. One hears much of the strug- 
 gles of many young wives in making palatable 
 food, leading [of ten to extravagance in living, out 
 of tin cans purchased at the corner grocery, thus 
 putting a strain upon the good nature of the 
 young husband. As the man is presumed to be 
 fitted to make the living, so also should the wife 
 
140 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 be presumed to know how to care for the house — 
 unless, perhaps, the girl has been occupied in some 
 daily task outside the home, in which case there is 
 some excuse. However, there were few young 
 ladies in my early days who were unable to cook a 
 meal and properly care for the home as well as 
 make their own clothes. 
 
 Two or three years after our marriage, when busi- 
 ness improved, I decided to build a home of my own, 
 and the house which now contains my offices was 
 built. We lived here from 1864 to 1874. The 
 shop was but a step from the house, and I was so 
 intensely occupied that most of the management 
 of the household fell upon my wife. Here our 
 children were born — my oldest son, William E.; 
 our only daughter Estelle, whose death I have 
 never ceased to mourn; Herbert, another boy who 
 died in infancy — a beautiful child; Percival, and 
 Francis. After the death of the children my wife's 
 health broke down, and I had a specialist come on 
 from the city. The local doctors told me she was 
 not going to live, that her heart was affected and 
 that there were other troubles. Even the specialist 
 gave me little encouragement, but said she would 
 live longer in some cheerful place in the country 
 where she could get plenty of fresh air. 
 
 I went out and bought a piece of ground. I had 
 thought of living in a tent for a while, as it was 
 summer time, but I concluded to put up a small 
 board house. This was completed in two days; 
 
Aside From Business 141 
 
 the third day we went out there. We lived there 
 until early in September, and my wife's health 
 commenced to improve right away. We had 
 thought of going back to our house in town and 
 building in the spring, but my wife was afraid that 
 she would lose what she had gained and so we took 
 rooms in a house in the country. On the 10th 
 of September of that year I started my present 
 house on a high hill; by Christmas we were living 
 in it. This was in 1874, when everything was 
 very cheap — walnut $25 per thousand feet; clean 
 heart, yellow pine, $16 a thousand; and oak, $13. 
 The wood used in that house did not average 
 more than $16 per thousand feet. The house was 
 built of the first grade of material, but at a cost of 
 less than one quarter of what it would take to-day. 
 My time was so fully taken up with my work 
 at the office and factory that there was little left to 
 devote to my children. I have since much regretted 
 this. I had an idea that the children would find 
 plenty to do with the books and other interests 
 provided for them. But these things do not take 
 the place of intimate companionship, and I would 
 advise all parents to make companions of their chil- 
 dren as much as possible. It used to be my habit to 
 go over to the factory at five o'clock in the morning, 
 stay there till six, then go back for breakfast, re- 
 turning to the factory and spending the entire day 
 there until six, eat my supper and then at half 
 past six go over to my office and work for several 
 
142 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 hours. Thus the training of our young children 
 largely devolved upon my wife, and while a more 
 excellent guide could not have been found, I must 
 in truth admit that it was a great mistake on my 
 part not to have given them more personal atten- 
 tion in their infancy. Children are one's most 
 important asset. Whatever the children may have 
 missed from a closer companionship, I know that 
 I lost more. I have always been a lover of children 
 and have never had any difficulty in attracting 
 them to me and making them my friends. Of 
 course, I took an interest in their lessons, helped 
 them when I could find the time, and we always 
 had some time together on Sundays. My boys, 
 however, were good boys, and beyond boyish 
 pranks and scrapes we had no special trouble with 
 them. My oldest son, after graduating at the York 
 Collegiate Institute, desired to enter business. The 
 other two, however, Percival and Francis, after 
 graduating at the Institute, went to the Sheffield 
 Scientific School of Yale. Percival, although pre- 
 pared for college, was too young, and spent two 
 years in my office before he could enter the Uni- 
 versity. When I accompanied him for his en- 
 trance examination, there was considerable doubt 
 expressed as to his ability to pass the examination, 
 especially as he had been out of school for two 
 years and had not had any special coaching. We 
 were invited to the home of the professor in charge, 
 however, at which we met the president of the 
 
Aside From Business 143 
 
 College, and after some conversation with my son 
 they admitted that he was fully equal to the task. 
 
 Percival was not content to remain at home, 
 desiring larger fields. He always had ambitious 
 ideas. After leaving college he studied law with 
 Dos Passos and Judge Field, and was admitted 
 to the bar. He entered politics and was elected 
 to the New York Legislature. In the meantime 
 he had become associated with me as a partner 
 in my business in New York, from which he 
 drifted into financial operations of larger scope, 
 his activities in this direction leading him to 
 Cuba, South America, and Europe. 
 
 My youngest son, Francis, also studied law and 
 went into practice in New York City. One even- 
 ing at home, some years later, I remarked to my 
 wife that I had worked mighty hard to build up 
 the business, and as Will, my oldest son, wished 
 to leave York and engage in constructive work, 
 I did not believe he would want to settle down 
 and take charge of it. The only alternative that 
 I could think of was Frank. Frank was set- 
 tled, just about to be married, and I did not think 
 he would find New York a good place to bring up 
 a family. My wife laughed at the idea, but I 
 wrote Frank that night. His reply was that he 
 owed everything material he had in the world to 
 me and had great confidence in my judgment; that 
 if I thought best, he was ready to come down and 
 join me. I replied that I would put up a cottage 
 
144 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 on my place and give him the land. He agreed, 
 wound up his law business, and came on. The 
 factory is now practically solely in his charge, al- 
 though I keep a supervisory eye upon it and, when 
 called upon, act as adviser. 
 
A 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE PANIC OF 1873 
 
 FEW minutes before noon on September 
 18th, 1873, the message came over the wire 
 to York: 
 
 "Jay Cooke & Company have suspended." 
 
 Only those who were in business then can have 
 an idea of what that news meant to us in York 
 and to every citizen in the nation. Jay Cooke, 
 as the man who had financed the Civil War, had 
 become the foremost financier of the country; 
 to the people in general who knew nothing of 
 finance, he was almost the financial father. That 
 his firm could fail was all but unthinkable; as the 
 Philadelphia Inquirer put it, no one could have 
 been more surprised "if snow had fallen amid the 
 sunshine of a summer noon." A policeman arrested 
 a newsboy in Philadelphia for crying "All about 
 Jay Cooke's Failure" — he could not imagine the 
 fact of failure and thought the boy had gone mad. 
 
 The 18th fell on Thursday; by Friday morning 
 nearly everyone with a bank account was outside 
 his bank's doors foaming at the mouth for his de- 
 posit. No one thought of doing business. York 
 
 145 
 
146 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 was more excited than when the Confederate Army 
 was approaching. Every bank in town was in 
 the midst of a run; the same condition extended 
 over the whole country. By Saturday nearly all 
 the banks, the private bankers, and the New York 
 Stock Exchange had closed. President Grant was 
 in New York trying to find some way to stop the 
 panic. 
 
 The farmers who had entrusted their money to 
 P. A. & S. Small stormed the hardware shop to 
 get back what they had given to them. No man 
 wanted to listen to reason; the bottom had fallen 
 out of the country and the only thing in the world 
 that counted was hard money. A currency panic 
 is not pretty; it is a mad, unseeing, unthinking 
 scramble for money — I saw hundreds fighting tooth 
 and nail to get into banks — fighting as cowards 
 fight their way out of a burning theatre. It was 
 a terrible orgy of crude greed when a gold dollar 
 ranked above every sentiment that makes life 
 worth while. Personally I was not frightened; it 
 was a shock, of course — a tremendous shock — but it 
 has never been my habit to let my emotions run 
 away with my sense, and anyhow it was not in my 
 nature to rush about as though the world were 
 going to end, just because I was threatened with 
 the loss of a few dollars. We had been taught at 
 home that dollars were not so valuable as all that. 
 
 So I just closed the shop and walked about to see 
 what was going on. I would not have closed the 
 
The Panic of 1873 147 
 
 shop had the workmen shown up, but my work- 
 men and all other workmen, although few of them 
 had any money except what was in their pockets, 
 were out in what might be called a sympathetic 
 panic ! 
 
 I looked in on Philip and Samuel Small to see 
 how they were making out. I found them calm 
 and careful as ever in the offices of their store and 
 ready to meet all comers. Their bearing was in 
 no way different from usual, and the crowd of 
 excited farmers and townspeople that jammed 
 every inch of the open space and extended out into 
 the street might have been customers clamouring 
 to buy, for all the effect it had on the Smalls. They 
 were of that sturdy, canny, old American stock that 
 was equally unafraid of work or of trouble. But, 
 as usual, they were ready ; back of them were ranged 
 neat piles of gold and greenbacks, and still farther 
 back in the shadow lay a great open sack out of the 
 mouth of which overflowed on to the counter what 
 looked like a stream of gold coins that they evi- 
 dently had not had the time to stack. They were 
 not seeking any excuses or promising to pay 
 "to-morrow" or any other day. They were ready 
 to pay everyone, and as each depositor presented 
 himself, they looked up his account, calculated 
 the interest, and counted out the money, always 
 remarking as they did so, something to this effect: 
 
 "We are very glad to give you back your money 
 but you must understand that you are never to 
 
148 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 come into this store again to ask us to care for 
 your money." 
 
 To be ostracized by the Smalls meant some- 
 thing; to many it meant more than gold — and 
 the gold was there for the asking. So two streams 
 of people shoved their way out back through the 
 crowd. The one with their money in hand, the 
 other satisfied that their money was safe. In a 
 couple of hours the crowd was satisfied that the 
 Smalls were sound, and the same emotion that had 
 begun the panic now vented itself in loud hurrahs 
 for the Smalls. 
 
 When the store cleared, the Smalls started 
 gathering their money to put it into the safe, and as 
 they swept the overflow back into the great bag, 
 one of them, with a half smile, tossed a coin to me: 
 
 "Keep that as a remembrance," he said. 
 
 It was a big bright penny! The moment they 
 had heard of the failure the day before, Philip 
 Small had gone to the Philadelphia mint and drawn 
 a newly minted stock of big copper pennies! The 
 real gold they had piled in plain sight. The 
 "copper" gold had lurked more discreetly in the 
 shadow. Samuel and Philip Small had stood out 
 there as bravely and as unconcerned as though 
 every copper penny had been a gold eagle. Of 
 course, they were solvent — they were the richest 
 men thereabouts — but equally, of course, they 
 did not have all their wealth in currency. 
 
 The panic of 1873, as most people will to-day 
 
The Panic of 1873 149 
 
 admit, was preventable. A severe depression fol- 
 lowing a period of over-expansion was inevitable, 
 but the panic itself had no reason for being and 
 would not have taken place had it not been for 
 nervousness on the part of Jay Cooke's New York 
 partners who closed the New York branch office 
 of the firm (the main office being in Philadelphia) 
 wholly on their own initiative and without con- 
 sulting the founder and head. 
 
 In the higher financial circles there had been a 
 long period of nervousness. The money market 
 was in the hands of speculators and almost any day 
 they, like Jay Gould or Jim Fisk, could get up a cor- 
 ner in money. It may be remembered that the 
 speculators almost brought about a panic on the 
 Black Friday of 1869 by their attempt to corner 
 gold. At the same time the currency of the coun- 
 try was very unsettled. Every little while someone 
 came forward with a proposal to redeem the war 
 bonds in greenbacks. The Franco-Prussian War, 
 the Chicago fire of 1871, and the big Boston fire of 
 1872, were all unsettling influences. With money 
 in this nervous condition, great constructive enter- 
 prises were going forward; the Southern and the 
 Pacific Railways were reaching out, and Jay 
 Cooke had become heavily involved in and was 
 practically carrying the Northern Pacific. Our 
 bankers for the first time had learned to tap 
 Europe, and they obtained a flow of funds, at times 
 great, but always uncertain, from abroad — from 
 
150 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 England, Holland, Germany, and France. Mem- 
 bers of Congress speculated freely, and subsequent 
 investigations disclosed that a very large number of 
 rather eminent politicians had speculative bond and 
 stock accounts carried for them by bankers, with- 
 out putting up a penny. A skilled financier would 
 have known that the condition was dangerous, 
 but we, in York, knew little of finance and neither 
 did people in general throughout the country. 
 
 They saw only the prosperity, the railways being 
 built, and above all they saw Jay Cooke as the 
 banker of the people. He was, I think, the first to 
 sell bonds by great campaigns of advertising in 
 which the services of practically all the newspapers 
 in the country were enlisted. In those days cer- 
 tain kinds of advertising were not distinguishable 
 from reading matter and an advertising campaign 
 of bonds meant the publication of article after 
 article which were by the laity read and accepted 
 as the matured judgment of the newspaper. Cooke 
 had sold the war bonds in this fashion. He sold 
 Northern Pacific bonds after the same manner. 
 The people believed in him; they would buy any- 
 thing he offered and, considering the wealth of the 
 country, in large amounts. 
 
 The railroad bonds were pledged as collateral 
 with banks all over the country. The whole 
 credit structure rested on them. There was no 
 mutuality among either banks or bankers. They 
 might join in a profit but never in a loss — each 
 
The Panic of 1873 151 
 
 man was out for himself and it was no one's con- 
 cern that the failure of a solvent bank or banking 
 house might temporarily ruin the country. The 
 New York financiers could have saved Cooke 
 and could have saved the banks, but they were 
 intensely jealous of Cooke. They let him fail — 
 and then failed themselves. They were jealous 
 of one another and nobody was big enough to do as 
 Mr. Morgan did in 1907, when he called the most 
 powerful financial interests of the country to his 
 library and cut off a rising young panic at the very 
 outset of its career. 
 
 These warnings, these rumblings under the 
 financial crust, had not been heard by any of us. 
 Business men talked as business men always talk 
 in times of prosperity. They could not see any 
 end to the development of the country. In that 
 they were right, for there can be no end to the 
 development of this country. I have been work- 
 ing in it for more than seventy years and it is a very 
 different country to-day from the day on which I 
 started. But as compared with what is now to be 
 done there is really more before us than there was 
 at the time of the Civil War — because we now know 
 how to utilize more resources. 
 
 In January, 1873, J. L. Mott, the president of the 
 Iron and Steel Association, said before its New 
 York meeting that the country would never see 
 pig iron selling below its then price of $40 a ton — 
 that it could never get below that price but that 
 
152 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 it would go higher. That prediction made a 
 great impression on the country, for Mott was an 
 authority. Within the year pig iron dropped to 
 $18 and $20 and at one time it was offered at $13 — 
 practically without takers! Jones, of Jones & 
 Laughlin, the big steel producers, made the same 
 sort of prediction, and everywhere we heard detailed 
 prophecies showing exactly why high prices and 
 prosperity were with us for ever. If any one sug- 
 gested that perhaps the prices of the future were in 
 the laps of the gods and not in the minds of men, 
 he was promptly squelched as a calamity howler! 
 
 At the next meeting of the Iron and Steel Asso- 
 ciation following the panic, at which Mott ap- 
 peared on the platform, he was hissed by some of 
 those who had taken his advice. He got up and 
 said: 
 
 "My speech will be very short: If my foresight 
 were as good as my hindsight I should be better 
 off by a damned sight." 
 
 This elicited a laugh, put them all in good hu- 
 mour, and as I remember he was reelected. 
 
 The abundance of predictions that never again 
 should we see low prices, that the country's needs 
 were infinite, and that the best we could hope to 
 do was to keep within hailing distance of demand, 
 really prevented much progress in truly economical 
 business. People were too busy to think of econ- 
 omy. They were not, as I have previously re- 
 marked, so skilled in extravagance as we are to-day, 
 
The Panic of 1873 153 
 
 but considering their lights they did what they 
 could. Many sellers showed a disposition to 
 consider the buyer as a poor beggar without the 
 gates, to whom anything might be thrown! We 
 had the seller triumphant and the buyer despond- 
 ent. The successive supremacies of buyers and 
 sellers give a most amusing business panorama. 
 As demand exceeds supply, so does a crown of 
 arrogance grow on the head of the seller, but the 
 moment the tide turns, the buyer takes over this 
 crown, full-grown, and then no slave to an oriental 
 potentate ever had to go through such elaborate 
 abasement as the newly crowned buyer requires of 
 the seller. I find, looking back through all these 
 years, that the men who, as buyers or sellers, keep 
 level heads and do not force their transient ad- 
 vantages, in the long run reap the real profits. The 
 man who cannot stand prosperity is also useless in 
 adversity. In good times he is out in the street 
 making a nuisance of himself; in bad times he is 
 slinking through the halls of the bankruptcy courts. 
 The blow of the panic was so sudden, so swift, and 
 so tremendous, that it left the country literally 
 paralyzed. Those who had been shouting prosperity 
 began dolefully to whine that the country was done 
 for, that it was dead for ever and a day, that 
 there was no use trying to do anything because 
 there was nothing to do. For a hundred days this 
 coma lasted. The Christmas of 1873 was about as 
 cheerless a festival as has ever been intoned. 
 
154 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 Having an eye for the brighter side and an 
 abounding faith in the righteousness of God and 
 the essential integrity of man, I could not share in 
 the hopelessness about me. My shop stayed shut 
 for exactly four days. I opened again on the 
 Monday following the panic and I should have 
 opened earlier had not my men been disorganized. 
 
 I was doing a good export business, and it oc- 
 curred to me that the whole world was not in- 
 volved in the panic, that there certainly must be 
 customers to be found somewhere. I went on to 
 New York, visited the commission merchants, and 
 asked them whether business could not be had. 
 They said it could always be had at a price. After 
 going over the situation thoroughly I solicited and 
 secured a lot of orders, optional to accept or reject 
 within a week, at an average of 25 per cent, under 
 the prevailing prices. The next thing was to 
 see if I could fill them. 
 
 I went back to York, called all my employees 
 together, and explained the condition of things. 
 I told them I could start up if I paid them on 
 the basis of a 25 per cent, reduction in their wages, 
 but if at the end of six months the conditions war- 
 ranted it and if wages in general had not come down 
 sufficiently to cover the decreased margin, I 
 would pay them the difference. I asked them to 
 think over the proposal and let me know. They 
 did not want to stop work. Some of them voted 
 at once to accept, others said that within six 
 
The Panic of 1873 155 
 
 months things would be as good as ever, and they 
 would get the difference anyhow. But one single 
 man in the factory declined to accept the terms I 
 offered. He left, and after several weeks came 
 back, saying he could find no work anywhere and 
 would go to work at half price, but I took him back, 
 of course, on the same terms with the rest. They 
 were all very fair and none had the spirit of hold- 
 ing up that is now so prevalent. They had the 
 elemental sense to see that without work they 
 could not live. The bearers of nostrums that will 
 permit life without work were not then among us. 
 With the labour side settled, I went out after 
 raw materials. I wrote to the dealers, asking 
 them if they would sell me goods payable^one 
 half cash or its equivalent, notes with interest, 
 the balance payable at the end of six months. The 
 final price of the goods was not to be settled until 
 the end of the six months' period when we would 
 take the then ruling market price and adjust the 
 differences. This seemed fair to me, for with the 
 panic on, no one knew what prices would obtain. 
 Some of them asked if I took them for damned 
 fools, but enough of them accepted my offer to 
 supply me with goods, and I may say that at the 
 end of six months I had very little extra to pay 
 them. I got a good deal at half price, and nothing 
 at more than three fourths the price prevailing 
 before the panic. At the end of six months prices 
 had dropped to such an extent that I was re- 
 
156 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 quired to make an extra payment in only a few 
 instances and in none over 75 per cent, of the 
 former price, hence my 25 per cent, reduction in 
 price of my goods was fully covered and wages had 
 fallen so low that not a single workman asked for 
 or expected an advance on what I was paying. 
 
 With both my labour and materials at a quarter 
 below the market I was able to go ahead while 
 others were standing still. But I needed ready 
 cash; I had to pay cash for wages and the purvey- 
 ors of a few essential supplies would take nothing 
 but cash for their wares. One of the several 
 causes for the long duration of the panic was the 
 breakdown of every kind of credit; we cannot 
 do business without credit, and whenever any 
 considerable number of men in business or banking 
 become so frightened that they will not extend 
 credit, then business ceases. Business is founded 
 on confidence; when confidence is withdrawn as a 
 general commodity, then business itself must 
 topple and fall. Whenever the so-called "hard- 
 headed," cash-fondling business man obtains a 
 majority in public opinion, then credit stops and 
 business ceases. The man who never extends 
 credit is a greater menace than the man who ex- 
 tends credit too freely. 
 
 The bank with which I had been doing business 
 in York joined in the craze for cash. The bank's 
 officers notified me that they would no longer give 
 me credit or discount customers' notes. How they 
 
The Panic of 1873 157 
 
 expected to make money by keeping their funds in 
 the vault is one of the several things I have never 
 been able to fathom. I imagine that their logic 
 did not extend so far. Panics do not teach logic. 
 I asked them how about customers' notes which 
 they had already discounted. A good many of 
 them would have to be renewed. That was 
 certain. The bank officers said they would not 
 renew, that they would have to look after the 
 interests of their other customers. I have never 
 discovered why they took this stand against me 
 unless it was because they were afraid of my reck- 
 lessness in starting up business so quickly. 
 
 The whole Board of Directors, however, was not 
 against me. Latimer Small and Daniel Rupp 
 both stood by me, remarking that I had always 
 been a good customer, and prompt in my pay- 
 ments. Latimer Small made it a personal issue 
 and resigned from the Board. He declared that he 
 would see that my needs were cared for and 
 that his father would come down to see me. His 
 father, Philip Small, was president of the York 
 County Bank. He did come down, went all over 
 my factory, and my books from end to end, and 
 then said: 
 
 "It is all right; the York County Bank will take 
 care of you, you can bring your accounts up to us." 
 
 And so I managed my credit and I made money. 
 But it was hard, grinding work. Mine was the 
 only factory in town that, day in and day out, 
 
158 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 after the worst days of the panic were over, man- 
 aged to keep going full-handed. For there was no 
 sudden pick-up after this panic. The gold stand- 
 ard had not been restored, the country was finan- 
 cially unsound, and the money was not coming into 
 the land from Europe. The overseas investors 
 had been thoroughly scared off — as well they might 
 have been. People at home were afraid either to 
 buy or did not have the money. I got most of 
 my business on long credits — one- and two-year 
 paper that I had to carry with the bank. I re- 
 member one man who wrote down from Somerset 
 County, Pennsylvania, asking for a saw-mill engine 
 and equipment. He wrote me word he wanted to 
 pay by a note. I told him I could not furnish the 
 goods unless the note was exceptionally good. He 
 replied that it was, sending a testimonial from the 
 presiding judge of the county and a bank that the 
 note he proposed to give was absolutely good. 
 When it came, to my amazement it was for nine 
 years. It looked to me like a trick. I wrote him 
 that I could not accept it, and then I found that 
 his desire for nine years' credit was due to the fact, 
 which he had not disclosed, that he would come 
 into a large fortune in nine years. His local 
 bank agreed to take up the note just as soon as 
 they found what he was doing and I received the 
 cash. 
 
 I made money. I have always made money in 
 panics. Those who would not give credit or could 
 
The Panic of 1873 159 
 
 not finance credits did not make money, and every- 
 where were unemployment and stark destitution. 
 A workingman would work for almost nothing; I 
 did not unfairly lower the wages of my men; they 
 did honest work and were entitled to honest pay, 
 and that they got. But in other parts of the 
 country were riots and bloodshed. The railroad 
 men along the lines of the Pennsylvania started 
 open warfare; they burned the shops at Columbia 
 and Harrisburg near by and for a time all traffic 
 stopped. The workers were desperate and willing 
 to follow any one; the proprietors were equally 
 desperate and saw nothing ahead. And everyone 
 in the most irritating way did his saving at the 
 spigot and then let the bunghole flow copiously. 
 The country tried to do business with self pity as 
 its only disclosed asset. 
 
 I had no self pity. It is a recreation that I 
 have always denied to myself. But I might have 
 indulged myself a little, for in 1876 when, after 
 days and nights of unending labour, I was fairly 
 on my feet, my factory and all I owned were one 
 Sunday completely wiped out by fire. I found 
 myself back once more at the point from which I 
 had started years before. 
 
 As soon as I found that nothing could be done 
 to save the plant, I got the telegraph office to open 
 (they closed on Sundays) and sent messages to 
 most of the various houses on which I depended for 
 supplies, telling them that I had been burned out 
 
160 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 but would shortly start up again and wished to buy- 
 materials, which I would want at cash prices, to 
 be settled by notes with interest. Extensions and 
 credits were not then easy to get. There was 
 general distrust, manufacturers and jobbers were 
 very careful whom they trusted. In going over my 
 books and what assets were left I calculated I was 
 just about even with the world, just where I had 
 started, twenty years before. 
 
 Some of the dealers wired in reply that they 
 would continue to sell to me at cash rates, taking 
 my notes with interest for the old account, and 
 generally they promised to do everything they could 
 to help me regain my footing. Fortunately, my 
 credit was of the highest. I had followed the rule 
 of Hamilton Fish never to break a financial promise; 
 I always paid every note when due unless there was 
 an understanding that it could be renewed. I re- 
 member that the commercial agencies were obliged 
 to rate me blank as to capital but high as to credit. 
 
 My father came up from Sandy Spring and my 
 father-in-law did not go to Baltimore on Monday. 
 We all met to discuss the situation and decide what 
 I could do. I had, they said, quite a nice little 
 line of business and a good business in repairs, of 
 course, and they thought I might start in on a 
 small scale and probably build up again in a mod- 
 est way making enough to live on while I was 
 doing it. They were rather gloomy as to the out- 
 look, and were in a sense justified, for it was, 
 
The Panic of 1873 161 
 
 indeed, a heavy blow, especially as we were in the 
 midst of a business depression, which was not 
 over until '79. I, however, had other ideas. 
 
 I called on Michael Schall, who was the assignee 
 of H. S. Myers & Co., who had failed and whose 
 building was right along the railroad at no great 
 distance from my factory. I knew if I could get 
 hold of that shop and foundry, I could start 
 business right off on the next morning. I asked 
 Schall if he would sell and he said: 
 
 "Oh, yes, I will sell it to you." 
 
 He named a price, after some dickering, that 
 was satisfactory to me. I suggested that we go 
 to Lawyer Latimer, which we did, and drew up a 
 bill of sale, which Schall signed, selling me the 
 property at the price. Latimer said: 
 
 "You must make a cash payment in real estate 
 transactions to make this binding." 
 
 I asked: "How will $5 do?" That was all 
 I had in my pocket. 
 
 Mr. Schall was satisfied and I gave him the 
 $5, folded up the paper, and put it in my pocket. 
 I told him I would take possession of the property 
 the next morning. Surprised, he exclaimed: 
 
 "You can't do that, I am winding up the busi- 
 ness." 
 
 "But," I answered, "I must have a place to 
 start business in, and the property is now mine." 
 
 "No," he replied, "I cannot consent to that at 
 all. I will give it to you in thirty days." 
 
162 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 Latimer, the Attorney, told him I was right, 
 that I could take possession of the property, for he 
 had sold it to me. After some heated discussion 
 we finally arranged that he should have the privi- 
 lege of finishing up his work there, but I could 
 move in at once and commence business. He 
 then asked: 
 
 "When do you expect to pay for it?" 
 
 I replied: "I haven't the remotest idea in the 
 world; I will pay you as fast as I can make the 
 money." 
 
 "That I won't stand for," he declared, point 
 blank. 
 
 Latimer remarked: "You can't help yourself. 
 The court would assume, in case you brought suit, 
 that it was to be settled for in a year and it might 
 take another year to get the money." 
 
 Schall said: "Well, I guess I am in for it." 
 
 Latimer advised against any legal action, told 
 him he thought he had done the best he could for 
 the Myers creditors, and we all let the matter rest 
 as it was and the transaction closed with a laugh 
 all round. I made my arrangements to start up 
 on the next morning. But that was not all; I 
 also got under way plans for further extension. 
 I felt I must double my business as I should need 
 half of it as a sinking fund to cover my loss. 
 
 I had a talk with Peter McGuigan, who was a 
 contractor, and he agreed to put up a new factory 
 for me if I would pay about half his crew's wages 
 
The Panic of 1873 163 
 
 as they came due — he to carry the rest until 
 I could pay it. I also saw the Billmeyer & Small 
 Co. and they agreed to furnish the lumber. Mc- 
 Guigan said he would furnish the brick. 
 
 These things settled, I returned to the office and 
 told those who were there going over my affairs, 
 that I had contracted for a new building to be 
 put up, larger and more complete than the other 
 in every respect and more nearly fireproof, and 
 that also I had bought the property down below. 
 They were astounded. 
 
 "How can you do all this? You can't pay. 
 How are you going to pay? " they asked all at once. 
 
 I replied very confidently: "I have been too 
 busy to think of that." 
 
 This made them angry and one went on: 
 
 "It is impossible; you have lost your right 
 senses. It is crazy to think of going ahead on the 
 scale you propose. Where will you get credit? As 
 soon as people find you have been burned out and 
 can't make a showing they will refuse to furnish 
 you anything except for cash." 
 
 "On the contrary," I answered, "I will probably 
 buy on one or two years' time at cash prices." 
 Then I handed them the telegrams: George 
 Small — "all the pig iron you want; pay for it when 
 you please"; Billmeyer & Small— "You may pay 
 for the lumber in 18 months." 
 
 Wm. F. Potts & Sons — "All the steel you want, 
 pay for it when it suits you, cash prices, notes with 
 
164 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 interest"; Grubb, the same thing with pig iron, 
 and so on. I bought everything on six, twelve, 
 and eighteen months, so that I was able to man- 
 ufacture the raw material, sell the goods, and get 
 paid for them before I had to pay for all of the 
 material. My workmen of their own accord offered 
 to work for 15 per cent, less on their wages for 
 thirty days while I was getting started and into 
 shape. 
 
 When those who had gathered to hold a post 
 mortem over my business saw how ready the out- 
 side dealers were to assist and how ready the work- 
 ers were to pitch in, one of the bankers turned 
 round and said: 
 
 "It looks to me that we who have been dealing 
 with Mr. Farquhar right here in his home town, 
 and always found him prompt in meeting his ob- 
 ligations, ought to treat him as well as people who 
 live elsewhere. For my part, I shall advocate 
 continuing his credit at our bank." 
 
 One by one they shook hands with me, pledged 
 their support, and went on their ways, confident 
 that I would work out. I did. I fulfilled every 
 promise and met every note — and have not failed 
 so to do from that day to this. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE NEW ERA OF PROSPERITY 
 
 ONE of the largest industrial figures that 
 emerged out of the panic of 1873 was 
 Andrew Carnegie; we did not fully recog- 
 nize his genius at that time — Jones & Laughlin 
 were among the most prominent iron and steel 
 manufacturers — but Carnegie had already made 
 his start before the panic broke and with his ex- 
 traordinarily skilled management of finance, the 
 panic found him in far better condition than any 
 of his competitors. Even a strong man will not 
 come through a panic unharmed, but as compared 
 with weaker competitors he will be relatively 
 stronger at the end than he was at the begin- 
 ning. So it was with Carnegie. 
 
 Most of the iron men had tied themselves up in 
 railroads, for not only did the railroads need the 
 metal in large quantities but they afforded specu- 
 lations in which fortunes might be turned over 
 night. A man with any standing at all could 
 borrow almost to the issue value on new railroad 
 securities put out by prominent houses and a great 
 number of business men took advantage of this 
 to carry great blocks of stocks and bonds on very 
 
 165 
 
166 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 narrow margins. Carnegie had bought into sev- 
 eral roads with his friends, President Thompson 
 and Vice-President Scott of the Pennsylvania 
 Railroad, but, contrary to the general practice, 
 Carnegie bought and paid for everything that he 
 owned. The bank panic did not touch him. 
 
 It was one of his absolute rules never to specu- 
 late and at one time he resolved never to own a 
 share of stock or a bond that was even listed on 
 the Stock Exchange or freely traded in. I am 
 not certain, but I think his only deviation from 
 this rule was in connection with the bonds he took 
 for his holding when selling out to the United 
 States Steel Corporation. 
 
 My first meeting with Carnegie was in Secre- 
 tary Stanton's office sometime during the Civil 
 War. Thomas A. Scott had been appointed As- 
 sistant Secretary of War in charge of transporta- 
 tion; Carnegie had been Scott's telegraph operator 
 and assistant in the railway and had come along. 
 He was a young man, of about 25 years, I think, 
 not imposing in appearance and rather shy in 
 manner, but it took only a moment or two of con- 
 versation to gain a peculiar sort of confidence in 
 him. Carnegie was one of those men you in- 
 stinctively had to trust. That is why I call the 
 confidence he inspired "peculiar." You did not 
 stop to wonder, "Will he do?" and then answer, 
 "Yes. " You simply decided at once, " He will do." 
 Although Scott held the official title* it was Car- 
 
The New Era of Prosperity 167 
 
 negie who did most of the work. One of his most 
 important exploits was the building in one night 
 of a railway bridge over an unfordable stream in 
 front of the Union forces under General Dodge, 
 which enabled that general to win a great victory. 
 General Dodge afterwards told me that being able 
 to surprise the enemy and win a battle when the 
 Confederates thought they were safe for a week, 
 won him promotion, but that the credit was very 
 largely due Carnegie for his resourcefulness and 
 skill in quickly providing the bridge. 
 
 I had many opportunities to meet with Mr. 
 Carnegie later in life, but even at this first meeting 
 in the few minutes I had with him I was impressed 
 with the ease and unerring touch with which he 
 handled men. Scott was hard to see; Carnegie, 
 with far more detailed duties than Scott, was open 
 to everyone. He had no waiting line outside his 
 office; he let everyone in and then attended to 
 them one at a time and seemingly without effort. 
 He got what any one had to say, disposed of the 
 matters, and sent the caller off amiable, if not 
 satisfied, in less time than it would have taken 
 formally to usher him in. He had Scotch caution 
 in plenty but so quick was he to turn over every 
 phase of a subject that one might easily think 
 some of his decisions were at first impression when 
 really he had simply considered every phase in a 
 moment. 
 
 In these days it is rather the habit to jibe at the 
 
168 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 scholar in business — the thought seems to be that 
 a man is all the better for a lack of knowledge of 
 belles lettres or of an intimacy with the masters of 
 art and literature. Carnegie was as keen a busi- 
 ness man as ever lived; he was keen in the large 
 way — he saw not merely to-morrow but the day 
 after. And one of the reasons that he so quickly 
 got into large business was that through his 
 study of the literary masterpieces he came to know 
 human characteristics. For after all, great litera- 
 ture is only the preservation of the best thought 
 on human nature. 
 
 Having this greater mastery, Carnegie never 
 became lost in details — never allowed himself to 
 take a temporary advantage of any one, or to do 
 anything that compromised his conscience. He 
 was too wise to be little and it may surprise many 
 to know that this young man who was first a 
 telegraph messenger, then an expert telegraph 
 operator, then an expert railroad man who would 
 probably have been president of one of our big- 
 gest systems if he had not desired to get into busi- 
 ness for himself, and who was already a power 
 in iron before he was thirty, entertained an am- 
 bition to get out of business as soon as possible 
 and spend the remainder of his life in study. He 
 wanted to go to Oxford or Cambridge and mix with 
 literary men. His affairs, however, grew so rap- 
 idly that he could not satisfy his real ambition; 
 but he did determine that, above all, he would not 
 
The New Era of Prosperity 169 
 
 dedicate his life merely to the making of money. 
 With all his hard common sense, great business 
 ability and Scotch shrewdness, he was a man of 
 ideals; he agreed with Lincoln that the object of 
 life was to contribute your mite — whether spelled 
 m-i-t-e or m-i-g-h-t — to being of use. I know of 
 no one who has been of more material benefit to 
 America, and few who have put opportunities for 
 education and improvement in the way of so many, 
 by the wisdom of his benefactions, than Andrew 
 Carnegie. He conducted the largest business of 
 his time, made the best product, sold it at the 
 lowest price, and paid the highest wages, making 
 America the iron and steel centre of the world. 
 We all know that he made a great sum of money 
 — but he did not make it in great gains at any one 
 time, with the exception of the release of his hold- 
 ings to the new corporation that the late Mr. 
 Morgan formed. And then he really only took 
 in negotiable form the value of what he already 
 had accumulated in plants, mines, and goodwill. 
 He earned his money in a constant flow and as a 
 student of business and of men. Management 
 was not with him a matter of rules; he kept in 
 close touch with the affairs of the world — he read 
 and travelled widely. Thus he gained a per- 
 spective that enabled him usually to see what was 
 coming and then to arrange his affairs accord- 
 ingly. He believed that knowledge was power 
 and demonstrated that fact. As a youngster he 
 
170 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 had access to the library of Mr. Anderson of 
 Allegheny; he studied while others played. 
 
 I might mention a very interesting incident 
 connected with his introduction to this library. 
 While a messenger boy, he was sent over early in 
 the morning with a telegram to Mr. Anderson, 
 with instructions to wait for an answer, as it was 
 important. Mr. Anderson had returned late that 
 night, and the butler said he could not wake him. 
 Young Carnegie walked into the library, took a 
 seat, and became immersed in a volume upon steel 
 making and the tremendous advantages of steel 
 over iron. Mr. Anderson finally came down with 
 his answer to the dispatch. The lad turned, 
 apologizing for having taken the book. The steel 
 master — Anderson was engaged in the steel busi- 
 ness — asked if he was interested in the subject. 
 Carnegie said: 
 
 "Oh, yes, it is fascinating to me." 
 
 "Take the book home and read it, and return it 
 when you are through with it," answered Mr. 
 Anderson. This he did; was told to take another, 
 and that he might have access to the library; and 
 Mr. Carnegie told me that then and there he made 
 up his mind if he ever became wealthy he would 
 found libraries and give young men the same 
 opportunity that had been afforded him. 
 
 The knowledge Mr. Carnegie thus attained 
 through reading and study he applied first to one 
 thing and then to another — to telegraphy, to 
 
The New Era of Prosperity 171 
 
 railroading, to iron-making. By the time the 
 other boys had finished playing, Carnegie had 
 almost finished working and was ready to play. 
 He used his knowledge of men and things to direct; 
 while in his early twenties he had already the 
 capacity to get others to carry out his plans. He 
 knew he had that capacity and used it, and thus 
 apparently with ease he became a great captain, 
 of industry. 
 
 He was among the first to apply scientific brains 
 to business — to know that results are not to be 
 gained merely by luck. He is said to be the first 
 man to employ chemists in analyzing products 
 needed in iron- and steel-making. He built on 
 what his competitors threw away. It so happened 
 that he applied his genius to iron and steel but he 
 could have elevated equally any industry in the 
 country. He selected iron and steel first because 
 they were basic and second because his railroad 
 experience had made for him many warm friends 
 among the users of iron and steel. 
 
 Just as he mastered the scientific process or 
 secured those men who could, so also did he 
 judge business conditions, and I recall a conver- 
 sation I had with him some time before the '73 
 Panic. I asked him why he did not build more 
 furnaces and he said rather gaily that it would be 
 cheaper to wait and buy the plants that the other 
 men were building. He did not, in so far as I 
 know, foresee the big panic, but he did know that 
 
172 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 many iron masters were going ahead too furiously 
 in their new construction. 
 
 I have always held Andrew Carnegie to be the 
 world's greatest business man, and I think he 
 became so because he was not a business man in 
 the sense of knowing nothing but business. That 
 much esteemed "hard-headed" quality in business 
 men comes only from a lack of imagination that 
 really prohibits the growth to the stature of "big 
 business men." 
 
 For instance, Carnegie was, perhaps, the first to 
 grasp the ideal business policy — a large output 
 sold at a reasonable price that includes a fair profit, 
 and at the same time permits good wages to 
 workmen and high compensation to managers. 
 He paid men as no one before him had ever paid 
 them — he was always anxious to share. No busi- 
 ness head has ever commanded more loyalty 
 from his managers and men. This is the more 
 remarkable because he moved from Pittsburgh 
 to New York in order to be nearer finances and 
 the centre of things. He was in the manner of 
 being an absentee landlord, but he went out 
 to Pittsburgh so frequently and made himself 
 so personal a being while around the plants that 
 all the workmen felt they knew him — whether or 
 not they did actually. A few of his old men still 
 persisted in calling him Andy. I asked Mr. Car- 
 negie once : 
 
 "Do you permit that?" 
 
The New Era of Prosperity 173 
 
 "Yes, I like it," he said, smiling. 
 
 The loyalty and the attachment of his managers 
 were marvellous. I attended one of the Ways and 
 Means Committee sessions during Cleveland's 
 administration. Mr. Carnegie testified that he 
 did not need a tariff on certain manufactures. He 
 had never relied upon tariffs; felt that he was 
 abundantly able to manage the steel business 
 without assistance from the Government. Later 
 Mr. Schwab came in and testified quite to the con- 
 trary in regard to some certain sizes of steel. 
 When the chairman told him what Mr. Carnegie 
 had just said, instantly Mr. Schwab exclaimed: 
 
 "Did Mr. Carnegie say that? Then I will take 
 it all back. If Mr. Carnegie said that, it is right." 
 
 Carnegie had those elements that go to make up 
 what I call genius — that is, not so much the pos- 
 session of extraordinary attainments as the power 
 to hold on to whatever he acquired and use each 
 accession of attainments as stepping stones to 
 further progress. 
 
 Genius as thus defined involves concentration of 
 effort and the elimination of unnecessary mental or 
 physical activity. System in action and thought 
 is essential to success. But system of itself is idle. 
 Thought is of no use without arrangement, but 
 neither is arrangement without thought. 
 
 I watched the progress of two factories in my 
 line of business that started at about the same 
 time in Illinois a number of years ago. The pro- 
 
174 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 prietors of each had about the same capital and 
 apparently equal ability. The one failed and the 
 other succeeded. The successful man, Mr. Brad- 
 ley, told me his motto was: "Handle nothing 
 twice." He systematized his business and allowed 
 nothing to be handled twice — no article was laid 
 down to be picked up again, but was placed on a 
 truck and moved to the point of next operation 
 and thence onward until it reached the place of 
 shipment. In the other factory the work moved 
 hither and thither, the operatives seemed busy, 
 but a good deal of their effort was scattered — and 
 the company went nowhere. 
 
 Carnegie was always going somewhere and by 
 the most direct route. He conspicuously differed 
 from the other big figures of his day in being a 
 manager of men rather than an expert on his own 
 account. Many men knew more about iron and 
 steel but none knew so much about iron and steel 
 and men and business. 
 
 A. T. Stewart, and to a degree Marshall Field, 
 were, on the other hand, individualistic experts. 
 They were first of all remarkable merchandisers, 
 and Stewart, in particular, was not so much a 
 judge of human capability. I am not sure that 
 Field was either. My information and observa- 
 tion were to the effect that Mr. Higinbotham, 
 a highly valued personal friend, really made him- 
 self a partner by sheer credit ability. When I 
 first began to take on some business in the 
 
The New Era of Prosperity 175 
 
 Middle West I stepped into Marshall Field's to 
 inquire concerning the credit of several of my 
 prospective customers. It was Mr. Higinbotham, 
 then a young man, who gave me the information 
 I wanted and without referring to a record. In the 
 early business days we had but little use for rec- 
 ords; a man was expected to remember all that was 
 worth knowing about his business. 
 
 I took pride in carrying in my head the orders I 
 secured on even the longest trip and sometimes 
 did not bother to list them at the factory — I could 
 as easily have forgotten the names of my chil- 
 dren as the names and wants of my customers. I 
 believe that at almost any time in those earlier 
 years I could have reconstructed my account 
 books from memory. On one occasion when I 
 was employing a number of men, fifty or more, 
 I did not have the opportunity to enter the payroll 
 before paying off but on the following Monday I 
 had no trouble at all in making up an exact record. 
 We lived in our business and it was no effort to 
 remember every detail. 
 
 Marshall Field was a buyer and seller of intuitive 
 ability: he knew what everything ought to cost 
 and at what it could be sold as by instinct, but 
 more than that, he knew what the public would 
 buy. However, A. T. Stewart and not Marshall 
 Field was the leading merchant during the period 
 immediately following the Civil War and he was 
 even more individual than Marshall Field — so 
 
176 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 much so, that his business never could accommo- 
 date itself to another hand and travelled only on 
 the momentum of the founder from the time of his 
 death to its purchase by John Wanamaker. 
 
 Stewart, in spite of the dignity of his appearance 
 and the austerity of his manner, was never too old 
 to keep his business eye open. To the end of his 
 days he retained the keen business-getting sense 
 that prompted him to perform one of the dodges 
 that attracted customers to him as a young man. 
 This was to have a supply of umbrellas with him 
 at church on wet days in order to offer them to the 
 ladies who might be rain bound. The umbrellas 
 had the address of the store inside and the idea was 
 to have the ladies return them to the store and there 
 become interested in the merchandise. Though 
 his schemes for attracting attention had become 
 more dignified in later years, they were quite as 
 effective. 
 
 Although Stewart had all these little traits and 
 was, indeed, a close buyer and seller who made 
 every dollar tell, he was also in many ways ahead 
 of his time. When he built his Ninth Street store 
 in New York he was generally taken to be crazy 
 for moving so far away from the centre of the 
 shopping district, which was then around Grand 
 Street. He had what might be called merchan- 
 dising vision and an infinite capacity, but neither 
 he nor Field was in any sense a man-builder and 
 it was expertness in detail — not science — that 
 
The New Era of Prosperity 177 
 
 made them successful. Carnegie found new ways 
 and developed a whole new theory of scientific 
 business. That is why I class him as the greatest 
 business man the country has ever known. 
 
 Business has, however, lost something of crafts- 
 manship with the passing of the old expert owner 
 who was always there and always insisted upon 
 knowing all about everything that was done. 
 The new way is better; it is always better to go 
 about a task scientifically than by rule of thumb 
 but the new way is impersonal and always encoun- 
 ters the danger that spurious and not real science 
 may be adopted. They look alike. Much of that 
 which is called "scientific" in business to-day 
 reminds me of the old doctor who talked in a jargon 
 that no one on earth understood, including him- 
 self — and then let some blood. No matter what 
 set of learned phrases he employed he ended up by 
 blood-letting and the patient recovered in inverse 
 proportion to the amount of attention the doctor 
 paid to him ! "We are tempted to experiment with 
 business formulas that will take the place of brains 
 applied through hard work. 
 
 Brains and hard work are still the foundation of 
 business and are also the driving force that carries 
 it on. No substitutes will be found. 
 
 In the old days we undoubtedly did more hard 
 work than is necessary to-day; or, to put it another 
 way, the same amount of hard work to-day would 
 yield greater results. My own methods were 
 
178 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 typical of every man who tried his best to get along. 
 I spent, after the Civil War as well as before, an 
 average of twelve to fifteen hours a day in the shop 
 and office — although I always managed to spend an 
 hour or more in reading books bearing upon busi- 
 ness matters, world affairs, and general literature, I 
 have, in fact, never forgotten my father's injunction 
 to love a book more than a dollar. Not a purchase 
 could be made in the early days, not even a nail 
 bought, without my approval. Every manifest and 
 bill had to be submitted to me before being mailed. 
 I was cashier; I paid all bills and I received all 
 moneys. I wrote or dictated every letter, made 
 every estimate of cost, and no one had the author- 
 ity to close a sale without me; in fact, I did nearly 
 all of the selling. Selling was on a somewhat dif- 
 ferent basis from that of to-day because so many of 
 the sales were between, principals and they were 
 thus on a social basis. The buyer and seller met 
 on equal terms. I often stayed overnight at the 
 homes of the customers at their insistence, while we 
 always kept open house at York for such customers 
 as desired to come to the factory and see what 
 we had. We did not drop business when we left 
 our offices — the line between office and home was 
 hazy — and since both buyer and seller had all the 
 information they needed for any transaction right 
 in their heads, a salesroom was any place where a 
 man with a desire to buy met another with some- 
 thing to sell to him. 
 
The New Era of Prosperity 179 
 
 Travelling then was far less luxurious than it is 
 to-day and I wish the salesmen who complain 
 of spending so much time on sleeping cars could 
 have been with me on some of my trips before 
 the era of sleeping cars. On one trip I spent 
 thirteen successive nights in day coaches. Still, 
 one can in time learn to get a fair night's sleep by 
 skilfully curling across two seats! Years later, 
 when Pullman chair cars came in, we considered 
 them far too luxurious for ordinary travel. We 
 frequently took box lunches along — the dining 
 car which came along years later was considered 
 an extravagance, though we often ate at the rail- 
 way restaurants where the trains stopped for 
 meals. 
 
 I have always taken the view that the amount of 
 work one might personally do was limited only by 
 the hours of the day and never by arbitrary and 
 illogical formulas such as " Eight hours for work, 
 eight hours for sleep, and eight hours for play." 
 One gains strength by overcoming obstacles; I took 
 a positive interest in surmounting difficulties, in 
 improving methods of work, and in keeping in 
 the closest touch with my customers. And so 
 my life, in spite of the seemingly long hours, has 
 been very happy. The enjoyment one gets out of 
 work is far greater than the enjoyment which is 
 arduously cultivated for itself. I never did any 
 physical work which was as hard as the work of a 
 player in a baseball game, to say nothing of a game 
 
180 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 of football, nor did I ever do any mental work more 
 difficult than many of my school problems. 
 
 I have no belief at all in the possibility of over- 
 work. People break down not from work but 
 from a lack of ordinary care of the person, or from 
 a lack of a moderate amount of exercise, or from 
 over-eating, or under-sleeping, or from a want of 
 interest in their work. The last mentioned cause 
 is the most important. Breakdowns in my ex- 
 perience arise not from the useful work that one 
 does but from foolish pursuit of what is ironically 
 termed "pleasure." I do not think it is possible 
 for any one to have his health impaired by any 
 amount of work so long as that work holds inter- 
 est, and he makes a play of it. I am inclined to 
 believe that a very considerable amount of what 
 we to-day call "the high cost of doing business" 
 is due to the high cost of trying to escape useful 
 work. 
 
 The factory was as much under my personal 
 supervision as the office. I kept a constant eye 
 upon the amount of production not only of each 
 department but of each man and did my utmost 
 to avoid any sort of waste whether of material 
 or of human labour. Every employee had to be a 
 producer or get out. The soldiering workman 
 had no chance at all. His fellows would have got- 
 ten rid of him had I not and sometimes I wonder 
 whether the modern disposition of so many workers 
 to loaf on the job, to try to get something for 
 
The New Era of Prosperity 181 
 
 nothing, and to do a minimum instead of a maxi- 
 mum amount of work, is not an aping on their 
 part of what they see those above them trying to 
 do. A poor master breeds poor men. 
 
 Our foremen, for instance, were expected to 
 supply and manage enough apprentices to pay 
 their own salaries. They had not only to super- 
 intend the men under them but also to scout for 
 likely boys to be apprenticed to the trade. It was 
 not difficult to find apprentices — we always until 
 recently had more applications than places. But 
 then, as now, it was hard to pick out the boys of 
 greatest promise. None of us would have bothered 
 for a moment with the "choosy" sort of boy who 
 seems to have grown up during wartime. It was 
 a privilege to be allowed to learn a trade and 
 only those who both could and would learn were 
 tolerated. 
 
 The amount of indirect labour and of super- 
 visory labour was at an absolute minimum — al- 
 though we did not then have the separation into 
 direct and indirect labour. We vaguely classed 
 indirect labour in overhead. This did not cause 
 us any difficulty, for we were small, and with every 
 man a producer, the overhead really amounted 
 to less than the interest upon the value of the 
 plant and the allowance for depreciation. There 
 is a doubt, anyway, whether plant investment 
 is an overhead expense, and depreciation did not 
 then amount to so much as now, for tools were 
 
182 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 not so hard pressed and new inventions were not so 
 frequent as to make obsolescence a real factor. 
 I have always been interested in discovering costs 
 but I then had no cost system in the modern sense. 
 I approximated costs by carefully following the 
 amount of labour and material that went into a 
 certain batch of goods and then standardizing 
 that as an average basic cost. On the whole, 
 however, my costs were not so far from the actual 
 costs as shown by modern cost keeping as one 
 might imagine. I frequently revalued the stand- 
 ards and later comparisons convinced me that the 
 error in any one case was seldom as much as 10 
 per cent, and that the average up and down gave 
 a net figure very close to the real costs. I uni- 
 formly added 25 per cent, as the minimum charge 
 to the cost of labour and material to cover all 
 overhead and profit and loss account, and on that 
 basis I made money. 
 
 This was a rule-of -thumb method but it is re- 
 markable how really expert one will become 
 through long experience in "cut and try." Most 
 people are familiar with the ability of a grocery 
 clerk to scoop out a pound of sugar — an expert 
 clerk will hit the weight within a fraction of an 
 ounce. We could likewise estimate the weight or 
 quantity of materials. I could judge with my eye 
 the number of feet of lumber or the weight of 
 pig iron on a railroad car. I could tell whether 
 the amount was short or over the invoice. My 
 
The New Era of Prosperity 183 
 
 estimate was rarely 5 per cent, wide of the mark. 
 This was not a faculty peculiar to me. It was 
 quite common for a man to be an expert judge of 
 the quantity as well as the quality of whatever 
 commodity he dealt in. 
 
 Of course, it took longer to do our work then than 
 it does now. Remember that we had no sten- 
 ographers or typists, and had either to write our 
 own letters or dictate them to good penmen who 
 transcribed as we talked. It was an easy matter 
 to keep two men thus going and for a time I man- 
 aged three men but one night my wife came in 
 when I was dictating to three clerks and said: 
 
 "Arthur, in that way lies madness; you have 
 got to stop it." 
 
 I had already found dictating to more than two 
 very wearing and so I gave up trying to imitate 
 Napoleon and limited myself to two clerks. A 
 man to-day can in an hour dictate more to a good 
 stenographer than we could then dictate to two 
 longhand clerks in several hours. This may or 
 may not be an advantage, for having what one 
 says taken down in longhand tends to a crisp 
 brevity of expression which is lost when rapidly 
 talking to a stenographer. 
 
 Business then had its pleasant sides but it also 
 had its unpleasant sides. Its morals were not 
 as good as to-day. The leading men were as a 
 rule scrupulously honest; many of the smaller men 
 were not, and even in the largest and most reputa- 
 
184 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 ble concerns it was sometimes considered quite 
 legitimate to get a prospective customer drunk in 
 order to capture his order, if it could not be ob- 
 tained otherwise. In fact, drinking was quite 
 commonly associated with selling, and I have 
 heard concerns boast that they had salesmen who 
 could outdrink all comers — for, of course, it spoiled 
 the whole game if by chance the salesman got 
 drunk ahead of the customer. Then the tables 
 might be turned. A jug of whiskey was often to 
 be found on the sideboard, and sometimes in the 
 offices, and drinking was looked upon with a great 
 deal more leniency than in later years. 
 
 In most companies, drinking by employees was 
 tolerated, as long as it did not seriously interfere 
 with a man's duties. As business became more 
 strenuous, business men began to see that they 
 themselves, as well as their employees, must have 
 every faculty alert in order to meet the exacting 
 demands of modern trade, and that business and 
 strong drink cannot profitably be mixed. I man- 
 aged my affairs differently. I did not mix whiskey 
 and business and never, through my whole busi- 
 ness career, gave a drink in connection with any 
 business transaction. I did not sell the less for that 
 but sometimes I did have to explain. I recall that 
 in New York I sold a man a large order for which 
 he agreed to pay cash on delivery. Then I asked 
 him, as was the custom, to luncheon. We ordered 
 luncheon and then he rather broadly hinted that 
 
The New Era of Prosperity 185 
 
 it would also be a good idea to have something to 
 drink. I told him I did not drink myself, and had 
 made it a fixed rule never to order liquor in pro- 
 moting a sale, but I made no objection to him as 
 my guest ordering what he wanted. 
 
 He took it all in good part and I do not recall 
 ever having lost a dollar's worth of orders through 
 the strict rule of not having liquor form part of 
 any transaction. 
 
 Now those were buyers' markets — as is normal 
 — and the idea behind the excessive treating was 
 not alone good fellowship and an ingratiating at- 
 tempt to gain favours, but all too often was 
 disguised bribery, and as a natural result there 
 was a good deal of out-and-out bribery concealed 
 under various disguises. It was a too frequent 
 practice to offer commissions in sales to other than 
 the principals — a practice so generally known to 
 exist that employers rather took it as a matter of 
 course, especially since in some cases they were 
 guilty of encouraging their salesmen to indulge in 
 this sort of thing. Since it is, of course, impossi- 
 ble to get the best results if one's agent evolves 
 an interest in opposition to that of his employer, 
 the truth of the old adage that honesty is the best 
 policy in business, as well as elsewhere, began to 
 dawn upon the latter. The morals of business 
 have decidedly improved. 
 
 During this period until 1879 business was dull. 
 In 1877 prices were so low that it was difficult to 
 
186 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 make a profit. It was all that people in domestic 
 business could do to make bare livings, and many 
 of them did not do that. My export business fur- 
 nished my principal source of profit and enabled 
 me to go steadily ahead where those who depended 
 solely upon inland business frequently stood still. 
 In 1879 prices began to improve, building gradually 
 started, payments in gold, which had been sus- 
 pended since the panic, were restored, and then 
 began slowly, but with constantly gaining force, 
 the great era of prosperity that lasted until the 
 depression of 1884, followed by the panic of 1893, 
 during which time such a large part of American 
 industry was founded. 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 CLIMBING UP AGAIN 
 
 WITH the resumption of specie payments 
 on New Year's Day, 1879, business at 
 once began to get better. We had gone 
 through more than five very lean years — lean not 
 because it was necessary or inevitable that they 
 should have been lean, but lean simply because 
 people did not have confidence. 
 
 We had not been on a gold basis. Gold is the 
 only reliable medium of exchange that we know. 
 For ages past it has been the symbol of wealth, and 
 whether or not it is the best symbol for wealth (for 
 business is mainly done on credit based upon proved 
 productive capacity), nevertheless, the human race 
 will have to be considerably altered before its 
 psychology will comprehend wealth in any form 
 other than gold or in something that can be changed 
 into gold. I do not pretend to say how much ac- 
 tual influence upon the trade of the country the 
 restoration of the gold standard had. It would 
 probably not be difficult to arrange the statistics, 
 but we did not think in 1879 of the economic effect 
 of the restoration of our currency to the approved 
 basis of international exchange. What everyone 
 
 187 
 
188 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 had thought during the soft money period (except- 
 ing, of course, the fiat money enthusiasts who 
 equally, of course, were not in business — the pro- 
 ponents of currency changes are rarely in business) 
 was: 
 
 "How can I make a commitment when I do not 
 know how I am going to be paid? I may be paid 
 in worthless money — therefore I am not going to 
 take a chance." 
 
 After the gold standard was restored the same 
 man said: 
 
 "Now I know that I can get real money for 
 whatever I do — therefore I will do something." 
 
 It was this return of confidence that brought 
 good business. Looking back over all of the var- 
 ious recurrent depressions in business I find that 
 they come about largely through the lack of confi- 
 dence and they leave with the renewal of confidence. 
 It is a trite but a true saying that business is built 
 upon confidence. 
 
 During those lean years few men had full con- 
 fidence in their fellows. It was extremely difficult 
 to borrow money in the banks. It was extremely 
 difficult to secure any kind of credit accommo- 
 dation. Everyone wanted cash. Credit was, to a 
 considerable extent, withdrawn. Business is largely 
 done on credit. Credit does not exist without con- 
 fidence. Therefore without confidence there is no 
 credit — and little business. 
 
 The increase of business in this country is largely 
 
Climbing Up Again 189 
 
 in proportion to the increase in confidence — that 
 is, in credit. One can see this everywhere. Years 
 ago when the farmer was not prosperous he ob- 
 jected to taking a cheque: he insisted upon money. 
 Now farmers almost everywhere will take cheques 
 and often prefer them to money. If I go into a 
 community where it is difficult to cash a cheque, 
 I know at once that I am not in a prosperous, 
 progressive community but in one where suspicion 
 instead of confidence prevails. As suspicion rises 
 business disappears. 
 
 Another element that prevented business on a 
 large scale was the uncertainty concerning prices. 
 They had reached the top in '73 and then had 
 tumbled — although not with the swiftness of 
 the closing months of 1920. Everyone is afraid 
 to buy on a declining market. They will buy at 
 the best from hand to mouth and at the worst will 
 postpone buying altogether. But since the price 
 ultimately depends upon the demand it must in 
 the larger way be considered as a result and not as 
 a cause. It is the buyer who makes the price. 
 During the periods of large demand the seller 
 sometimes thinks he makes the price, and he does 
 to a degree. Eventually he makes it so high that 
 people stop buying and then for a while the seller 
 really does make the price. He refuses to sell 
 below a certain figure; he insists that he is not 
 going to lose money, and then he gathers his fellows 
 around him and they all agree that under no cir- 
 
190 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 cumstances are they going to lose money. And by 
 some tomfoolery or other, be it open-price associa- 
 tion, trade association, or what not, they solemnly 
 restrict production and hold out for price. They 
 make the price — but nobody buys. 
 
 They keep right on making the price until one 
 fine morning some intelligent man awakes to the 
 fact that business does not grow out of making 
 prices but out of selling goods; and then the whole 
 house of cards goes a-crashing. I have seen that 
 happen so many times that I now regard it as 
 one of those events in nature that inevitably 
 happen. Our business depressions come rather 
 far apart and only a small fund of knowledge carries 
 over from one to another. Those who hang on 
 to prices the longest fall the hardest. And, al- 
 though they may die, they never learn! 
 
 The fear of still lowering prices was quickly 
 overcome in 1880 by the buying that grew out of 
 the new confidence that payment could be had for 
 what was sold. Prices always follow confidence; 
 confidence never follows prices. Steel started up in 
 June, 1879. That was the time when the age of 
 steel began and ever since steel has constituted an 
 important barometer of business. 
 
 I had done a comparatively satisfactory business 
 during the depression and I had always been able 
 to get money. I have always been able to get 
 money for the reason that I have never renewed, 
 much less left unpaid, a note. Some time later 
 
Climbing Up Again 191 
 
 when the banks of York were exhausted by local 
 requirements and could not give me all of the 
 accommodation that I required, I went to New York 
 for money and walked without introduction into the 
 National Park Bank. I do not believe much in 
 introductions; I think a man ought personally to 
 be able to tell what he is and not have to depend 
 on another man saying it for him. I asked to see 
 the president and the cashier; I told them what I 
 wanted and we chatted a little while. The nature 
 of my business forced to me sell largely on fairly 
 long-term notes given to me by farmer customers 
 or country distributors, and it was these notes that 
 I wanted to discount. 
 
 The president asked me what proportion of these 
 notes was paid at maturity. I told him that the 
 average was about 75 per cent., that perhaps 25 
 per cent, renewed, but that practically all were 
 eventually paid. My credit losses were then and 
 always have been comparatively small. Then he 
 asked me: 
 
 "How much do you speculate?" 
 
 I answered: "I have never speculated and never 
 intend to speculate either in the stock market or 
 in buying raw materials ahead of my needs, except 
 in the latter case if I should see clearly there would 
 be an advance in price because goods were being 
 made at less than cost." I added that I had never 
 made a bet in my life. "I am in business — not in 
 gambling." 
 
192 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 We had a little cliat about speculation and he 
 nodded : " I can see you do not drink. How much 
 of a line do you want?" 
 
 I told him, and he gave it to me. That was my 
 first New York banking connection and I have 
 ever since retained it. I have never had any diffi- 
 culty in being trusted anywhere, and I think this 
 is due to the fact that, having obeyed my father's 
 teaching never to deceive, I have always had such 
 perfect confidence in myself that other people have 
 shared that confidence. And I have a feeling that 
 if ever I did deceive I should lose that confidence 
 in myself and be unable to make people believe me. 
 This has stood me in good stead innumerable times. 
 Once, for instance, in making a short trip to Lon- 
 don from Paris I found, on arriving in England, 
 that my letter of credit from Brown, Shipley & Co. 
 was in my trunk at the Hotel Continental in Paris. 
 I went to the London office of Brown, Shipley & 
 Co., told them the circumstances, and how much 
 money I wanted. We talked awhile and they 
 gave me the money on my simple promise to hand 
 them my letter of credit on my return within a 
 week. 
 
 In 1914, at the opening of the war, I was in Con- 
 stantinople. All the banks had closed. They 
 were absolutely forbidden to pay out money even 
 on letters of credit. I hunted up the president of 
 the Ottoman Bank and offered him a cheque on 
 New York. He did not know me from Adam and 
 
Climbing Up Again 193 
 
 he explained that under no circumstances could 
 he pay out any gold, the only currency that was of 
 any service. 
 
 "But," I said, "you owe money in New York 
 and this is New York exchange I am giving you. 
 Let us sit down and have a chat. Perhaps we can 
 find a way out." 
 
 We discussed my business at home and my busi- 
 ness abroad. I explained that I was vice-president 
 of the Chamber of Commerce of the United States, 
 and was on a semi-government mission, and finally 
 he said: 
 
 "As president of this bank I cannot give you the 
 money, but I will cash the cheque myself !", v 
 
 And not only did he cash it but he gave me gold, 
 which at that time was harder to procure in Turkey 
 than diamonds. The cheque was not presented for 
 payment for six or seven months afterward. 
 
 Another instance: Going to the theatre in New 
 York with my wife and some friends I found at 
 the box-office that I had left all my money in the 
 safe at the hotel. I did not know that theatre 
 ticket sellers ever trusted any one and I did not 
 ask this one to, but as I fumbled through my 
 pockets and found that I had no money, I asked 
 for the tickets and merely remarked, "I will call 
 in to-morrow at nine o'clock and pay you for them, 
 as I left my money at the hotel." And he replied: 
 "That is all right." 
 
 These are merely mentioned as instances among 
 
194 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 many others I might offer that if a man never de- 
 ceives he will be trusted. 
 
 Credit is a delicate and fragile thing, but I think 
 it is open to any one who tells the truth, and any 
 one telling the truth will not abuse credit, for he 
 will not ask for more than he should have. If I can 
 talk with a man for five minutes I do not want to 
 see his credit statement. I think the intangibles 
 are more trustworthy than the tangibles. I should 
 not extend credit to a man I felt I could not trust 
 no matter what kind of a statement he exhibited, 
 and I should extend credit to a truthful man re- 
 gardless of his statement, and this has worked out 
 to my entire satisfaction. 
 
 Just before the Baring failure, in 1882 I shipped 
 implements to the amount of $67,000 to Buenos 
 Aires for the account of some customers whom I 
 knew well, and who, when in this country, had 
 been entertained at my house. Then came the big 
 failure and I received word form the New York 
 correspondents that I should have to wait in- 
 definitely for payment of the account. It was a 
 very large amount of money for me to wait for and 
 would have given me considerable embarrassment. 
 Therefore I went to New York, talked with the 
 agents and asked them to communicate with my 
 Argentine customers and see if they could not 
 devise some method of arranging for payment. 
 They said they did not know what they could do 
 but they would try. In a very little while the 
 
Climbing Up Again 195 
 
 answer came: "Pay Mr. Farquhar the full amount 
 in cash, as we are indebted to him for personal 
 courtesy." This is another instance of the value 
 of making friends of your customers. 
 
 During this period of prosperity I expanded my 
 plant to a considerable degree although I was care- 
 ful not to tax my resources or to engage in any build- 
 ing programme which might, if the prosperity 
 ceased, leave me short of funds. I have never 
 believed in locking up more money than was 
 necessary either in plant or in inventory. Both of 
 them are but tools for doing business — they are 
 not business — and normally I should rather have 
 my facilities a little less than adequate for the 
 volume of business than a little more than adequate. 
 By 1880 about one half of our present plant was 
 up, and during this period I moved out of the 
 residence put up in 1863, which was right in the 
 centre of the plant, and converted it into an office. 
 My old bedroom is now my private office. I built 
 that house — I was the architect and the contractor, 
 and my workmen put it up. It is a brick house 
 and it is still covered by the same tin roof that I 
 put on it at the time of building. It is a particu- 
 larly fine grade of what was known as "Double 
 Cross" tin that I bought in Wales. At that time 
 tinplate was not made in this country to any extent 
 and iron was its base instead of steel. None of the 
 floors in the house have had to be renewed; it has 
 not settled; and neither has it been necessary even 
 
196 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 to repair the stone steps or the front door. I 
 made the doors in my factory out of walnut and 
 I believe they were the first walnut doors that had 
 ever been used in York. 
 
 Politically the country was in rather an upset 
 condition owing to the prevalence of unsound 
 theories of economics, particularly touching the 
 currency and the tariff. The Republican Party 
 had come solidly into power and it was beginning 
 to be realized by astute but narrow-minded politi- 
 cians and manufacturers that artificial monopolies 
 could very easily be created by means of a protec- 
 tive tariff. I think that this had not occurred to 
 any one until the higher tariffs made necessary for 
 war revenues and for paying off the war debts gave 
 an idea of what might be done with a really high 
 protective tariff — that under the guise of protecting 
 infant industries some fat adult pocketbook might 
 be created. As a student of economics and also as a 
 business man I have never liked the idea of extreme 
 protection and have always thoroughly agreed 
 with Henry Clay, when he said, in advocating 
 a tariff of only ten years' duration, that he believed 
 that any industry which could not find itself within 
 ten years was not worth protecting. I have always 
 held that it is to the benefit of the people of all 
 countries to have cheap goods and plenty of them, 
 and that any restraint upon the ebb and flow of 
 trade, while it may seem to help a few, really hurts 
 the many. I have always found it perfectly 
 
Climbing Up Again 197 
 
 possible to sell at a profit anywhere in the world 
 and I do not want a tariff which is so high as to en- 
 courage a price-fixing combination of producers 
 and permit me to sell at a high price in the United 
 States, where competition below a certain level is 
 removed, and at a low price in China where I have 
 to meet outside competition. I think the United 
 States, as well as foreign countries, should have 
 the benefit of low prices on American goods. 
 
 I bring this up at this moment because I have 
 noticed that after each business depression there 
 appears one strong movement for a high tariff and 
 another strong movement for what is called "cheap 
 money." A period of so-called prosperity usually 
 results in a greater or less amount of inflation and 
 promotes the notion that credit, which is a means 
 of interchanging things, can somehow be made 
 to substitute for capital — which is a means of 
 making things. The human political and business 
 mind seems to travel through cycles and after 
 every business depression comes the incessant, un- 
 reasoned, unreasoning, blatant demand for a high 
 tariff and cheap money. We have never yet as a 
 people failed to respond to the politician who pro- 
 mises something for nothing. But of this, more 
 later. 
 
 Both Garfield and Blaine were exceptionally 
 brilliant men, and I have always felt that if Garfield 
 had not been assassinated within four months after 
 his inauguration as President in 1881, he would 
 
198 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 have saved the country from some of the economic 
 fallacies which it was fast embracing. Of Blaine 
 I saw a good deal later. 
 
 We were passing out of the period of .individual 
 ownership and into the period of corporate organ- 
 ization, and among the interesting individualists I 
 would mention Johns Hopkins of Baltimore, a dis- 
 tant cousin by marriage, and one of the most pecu- 
 liar figures of all time. 
 
 Johns Hopkins had two special interests. The 
 first was money, and the second his plans for a 
 hospital and university to which he purposed to 
 bequeath his fortune. He seldom displayed human 
 traits but he had a most uncanny faculty for telling 
 in advance whether or not a man would pay his 
 bills and an equally uncanny faculty for economical 
 living. He told me that the secret of success was: 
 
 "Do not waste anything. Make everything you 
 do, and every cent you have, count. The reason 
 why people are poor or unsuccessful is that they 
 waste. Any one can succeed who does not waste." 
 
 And he did not waste anything. He started as a 
 clerk in a store and saved about nine tenths of his 
 wages. When only a boy he began lending out his 
 money at interest and at high interest too, for in 
 those days 10 per cent, or more was not an unusual 
 interest rate to pay. He had practically no ex- 
 penses and before he reached middle life was a 
 rich man and became president of the Merchants' 
 Bank, of Baltimore. Then he began a practice 
 
Climbing Up Again 199 
 
 that was known in London but nearly unknown in 
 this country — that of endorsing notes for a fee. 
 
 I never heard of any one who loved Johns Hop- 
 kins, but also I never heard of any one who ever 
 had the shadow of a doubt of his financial integrity. 
 He was known to be worth millions but how many 
 millions no one knew. What everyone knew was 
 that anything he put his name to was as good as 
 gold. Therefore, in a very short time, in addition to 
 lending his own money, he endorsed the paper of 
 others for a fee ranging up to 5 per cent., and with 
 that endorsement the paper could be discounted 
 anywhere. "Johns Hopkins' Paper" was a staple 
 investment and I recall that our banks in York 
 used to buy it freely. He was interested in the 
 Baltimore & Ohio Railroad and made a great deal 
 of money out of it, and as an instance of his re- 
 markable credit standing he personally endorsed 
 one loan of several million dollars by the railroad, 
 and on his endorsement the securities were sold in 
 France, I do not recall any other case where the 
 securities of a railway corporation were sold upon 
 the strength of a personal endorsement. As far 
 as his name on paper was concerned he was not an 
 individual but an institution. 
 
 As I have said, his credit judgment was uncanny. 
 He would endorse the paper of a man whom every- 
 one else had turned down, and the notes would be 
 paid at maturity. He would refuse to endorse 
 notes of a man whom most people considered a good 
 
200 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 risk, and that man would fail. I asked him how 
 he formed his judgment, for, like most men of that 
 time, he had few records, no assistants, and kept 
 the data in his head. He answered: 
 
 "I never endorse the paper of any one whom I 
 do not know. I watch the habits of every man in 
 business hereabouts. I find out how they do busi- 
 ness. If they waste, I do not bother with them 
 further. I can see by the way they act whether or 
 not they are going to make good. If I feel that 
 they are going to make good I will endorse the paper 
 up to the amount I think they are good for. I do 
 not want any report of any kind. I depend on 
 my own judgment and that judgment does not 
 fail me." 
 
 He was a hard, austere sort of a man and I think 
 not unlike, in habits and personality, Stephen 
 Girard, who also was unloved and unregarded 
 excepting for his money, and yet he put all of the 
 money he made into that remarkable institution 
 Girard College. Johns Hopkins fully formulated 
 the plan of the university that he wanted to found. 
 He got his pleasure in life out of money-making 
 and planning the hospital and the university to 
 which his money was to go. He was influenced in 
 this, I think, by George Peabody, who built the 
 Peabody Institute in Baltimore — an example of 
 how this good deed of one man encourages an- 
 other. 
 
 He seldom went anywhere or did anything to 
 
Climbing Up Again 201 
 
 attract notice. He was a strong, rugged character 
 and not easily fooled. He regarded the people who 
 came to him for money more as credit risks than 
 as human beings and those who came to him for 
 other purposes than money he had little regard for. 
 I knew him and we had interesting chats. He 
 might have loaned me money if I had asked him 
 for it, but I never did and never would. It has 
 been one of my principles never to borrow money 
 excepting from banks in a business way, and al- 
 though Johns Hopkins was more of an institution 
 for lending money than he was a relative and I am 
 entirely certain would not have cared in the least 
 for the relationship had I applied for money, yet I 
 fortunately never found any occasion so urgent 
 that I cared to ask him. I once asked him for ad- 
 vice, however, and he told me I would find Philip 
 and Samuel Small of York my best advisers. 
 
 He had a single room as an office with a plain 
 wooden table and a few hard, plain chairs. I 
 think that $15 or $20 would have been a large 
 estimate on the value of his office furnishing. I 
 said to him one day: 
 
 " Cousin Johns, you spend most of your time in 
 this office, why don't you buy yourself at least a 
 reasonable amount of comfort?" 
 
 "No, no," he answered, "it would be waste to 
 have anything in here that I can get along without, 
 and anyway it is better to live simply and to play 
 poor. In an office like this people come in and ask 
 
202 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 for subscriptions. They see me and they see my 
 office and they are satisfied if I give them fifty cents. 
 If I had a better furnished office they might want 
 as much as five dollars." 
 
 One of the town worthies that he held up to me 
 as the maker of a considerable fortune by mere 
 economy was Moses Shepherd. 
 
 "There is an example," he used to say, "of what 
 a man can do who does not waste. He has only a 
 little grocery store, he lives in it, he does not have 
 the expense of a family, and he never eats anything 
 more expensive than crackers and cheese, and yet he 
 is worth several hundred thousand dollars. He has 
 all that money because he saves all that he makes." 
 
 Shepherd was another curious character who 
 loved money for itself. He never had anything 
 but a small store. I understand that he speculated 
 to some extent but certainly he never spent any 
 money and when he died he left a large fortune 
 to the founding of the Shepherd Asylum. Russell 
 Sage had something of these same characteristics. 
 He also loved money for itself alone and piled it up 
 feeling a kind of sardonic glee as to what was 
 going to be done with it after he died. I have 
 known quite a number of men who found their 
 recreation, so to speak, in investing money. Judge 
 Spottswood, of the Supreme Court of Pennsylvania, 
 was one of these. I asked him: 
 
 "What do you do to amuse yourself outside of 
 your judicial duties?" 
 
Climbing Up Again 203 
 
 "My principal interest is in investments," he 
 answered. "I buy things that pay their dividends 
 quarterly, reinvest the money, and," he said, 
 smacking his lips, "Great God, but it rolls up!" 
 
 A very different kind of man was Ross Winans, 
 who was another of the great citizens of Baltimore. 
 He and my Uncle, John Elgar, turned out the first 
 of the coal-burning locomotives. When they built 
 their first locomotive Winans insisted that the 
 wheels would not have sufficient tractive power to 
 haul a train up grade and that it would be necessary 
 to put cogs in the centre of the track as they do 
 now in vermicular railways. My uncle, who was 
 an inventor and a scientist, knew that the friction 
 increased with the pressure but Winans insisted 
 on the cog wheel and it was put on. But before 
 the first trial, my uncle drove the key out of the 
 cog wheel on the axle so that it would run loose 
 and after the trial, when Winans was congratulat- 
 ing him on the result and felicitating himself on his 
 foresight in providing the cog, he was astonished to 
 find that as far as tractive force had been concerned 
 the cog was an ornament. 
 
 Winans had started as a mechanic and eventually 
 became a locomotive builder with the rise of the 
 Baltimore & Ohio Railroad. His machine shop 
 at Baltimore was the first that I had ever seen 
 and probably led me into becoming a machinist. 
 He was an immense, kindly, patriarchal sort of a 
 man, and the first time I called at the factory as 
 
204 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 a boy he took me through personally and invited 
 me to his house for dinner with my uncle John 
 Elgar. That factory had the first iron roof I had 
 ever seen, but it had wooden rafters and I asked 
 him why he supported a fireproof roof with such 
 a highly inflammable substance as wood. He 
 answered : 
 
 "You cannot set fire to a single stick of timber. 
 You must have at least two sticks together before 
 you can have a fire. Therefore these beams 
 widely separated are just as fireproof as iron and 
 they are a great deal lighter and cheaper." 
 
 It had never occurred to me before that a single 
 stick of wood will not burn. 
 
 Ross Winans' son, Thomas Winans, continued 
 the business and made a large fortune building the 
 railway for the Russian Government from Moscow 
 to St. Petersburg. He told me that, after they had 
 carefully worked out the plans for the road, Czar 
 Nicholas looked at the map they had drawn, and 
 then, taking a ruler, drew a straight line from Mos- 
 cow to St. Petersburg and told them that that was 
 the line the railroad should take. And that was 
 the line the railroad did take, of course, at an enor- 
 mous increase in expense. They so faithfully fol- 
 lowed the Czar's line that they had to build many 
 of the bridges diagonally across rivers ! 
 
 Thomas Winans took pleasure in life and built 
 himself a great house on Lombard Street, Balti- 
 more, with enormous gardens that were the won- 
 
Climbing Up Again 205 
 
 der of the town. On his return from abroad he 
 brought with him a number of nude statues that 
 he put around the house grounds. The Baltimore 
 papers attacked the morality of the display of 
 these naked statues and Thomas became so in- 
 censed that he built a great high brick wall around 
 the entire estate in the heart of the city, and 
 thereafter spent much of his time at his country 
 home, and the citizens were very much distressed 
 at being deprived of the enjoyment of these 
 beautiful works of art which had been visible 
 through the iron fence before the wall was erected. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 HERE AND THERE AND THE PRESIDENTS 
 
 I KNEW President Johnson slightly, and, I am 
 sorry- to say, had a very poor opinion of him. 
 Also I knew James G. Blaine, Charles Sum- 
 ner, and most of the leading figures at the close of 
 the war, but my closest friend among men of 
 note was Judge Jeremiah S. Black, Attorney Gen- 
 eral and later Secretary of State in President Bu- 
 chanan's Cabinet. I had known Judge Black cas- 
 ually before and during the war, but when he came 
 to York to live in the early seventies I learned to 
 know him intimately. Many amusing ancedotes 
 were told of him. Once in returning from a trip 
 of about a week, Mrs. Black, in looking over his 
 wardrobe said: 
 
 "Where are the shirts I gave you?" 
 
 He answered : 
 
 "Why you told me to put another one on every 
 morning, which I did." 
 
 She found him clothed with the six shirts. He 
 was one of the most interesting characters of the 
 period — a man of parts, of a lovable nature, 
 albeit blunt and outspoken in his opinions. It 
 is related of him. that on one occasion, when he was 
 
 206 
 
Here and There and the Presidents 207 
 
 conducting a case before Judge Chambers in the 
 Franklin County Court, he became very severe, 
 and even abusive. Judge Chambers said: 
 
 "Black, you will have to apologize for your 
 language." 
 
 Black replied, quoting from Othello, "Haply I 
 am Black, your Honour, and have not the soft parts 
 of speech that chamberers have." 
 
 This set the Judge to laughing and the point was 
 not pressed. Black was a Shakespearean scholar, 
 quick witted and full of apt quotations. He had 
 the happy faculty of saying things which although 
 sharp did not rankle. People could take things 
 from him which from another would make them 
 furiously angry. Once he gave the United States 
 Supreme Court a lecture for lack of knowledge 
 of the law. In describing a proposed bond issue he 
 said: "Not satisfied with mulcting the present 
 generation, they reach their long felon fingers 
 down into the pockets of posterity." Another of 
 his sentences comes to mind: "Justice moves with 
 a leaden heel, but you will find it will strike with 
 an iron hand." 
 
 Judge Black came to York from Somerset 
 County. Much of his practice was in Philadelphia, 
 Harrisburg, and Washington, and he took a fancy 
 to York as a midway point from which he could 
 conveniently reach any of them. He built the first 
 modern country residence near York. He pur- 
 chased the estate in 1861 just before the Civil 
 
208 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 War. No one expected payment in those days 
 till the 1st of April, and he promised to pay the 
 owner on that date in 1862. In the meantime 
 the war had broken out, specie payments had 
 ceased, and the greenback had been made the 
 legal tender. But he bought gold, paying the 
 debt in that metal, saying gold was the currency 
 at the time he bought the land, and he would not 
 feel as if it belonged to him if he paid in anything 
 else but gold. Although a loyal Democrat, had 
 he lived he would not have followed Mr. Bryan in 
 that gentleman's free-silver vagaries. People did 
 not believe it possible that anybody not engaged 
 in agriculture could really prefer to live in the 
 country. His house occupied a beautiful spot 
 on a ridge of hills to the south overlooking the 
 town of York, and was named "Brockie," that 
 being the name of the previous owner of the land. 
 The original house burned down some years ago 
 and was replaced by a beautiful residence be- 
 longing to Mr. Elmer Smith, one of our leading 
 manufacturers, who had purchased the property 
 from the Black estate. 
 
 My first real acquaintance with the Judge came 
 about in this way. He drove up in front of my 
 office one day, got out, came in, and asked me to 
 drive out in the country with him to see a spring 
 and tell him if there was water enough to supply 
 a house by using a ram — that he thought of buy- 
 ing the place on the hill, and the only question 
 
Here and There and the Presidents 209 
 
 was whether there would be enough water to fill 
 the reservoir which he proposed to erect to supply 
 the house. He said that he had been told that 
 I was the proper person to see. 
 
 I said all we wanted was a watch and a quart 
 measure. I told the Judge that I knew him from 
 his likeness in the papers, which I had seen many 
 a time. I got in the buggy with him, and he 
 remarked: 
 
 "If you want to stop and get your coat you can, 
 but it is so warm you would be more comfortable 
 without it." 
 
 "Judge," I said, "I am not ashamed to be 
 seen riding with you; you have the reputation 
 of being an honest lawyer, and I suppose an 
 honest lawyer is just as good as any other honest 
 man." 
 
 This amused him, and he put his arm around 
 me and said: 
 
 "I guess we shall be good friends." 
 
 We went to the spring and I measured the flow. 
 I told him it would take about nine quarts to give 
 one quart by a ram. We found that there was 
 plenty of water. When we got through and had 
 talked over where he should place his home, we 
 lay down under a tree and discussed literature 
 and told stories until about 11 o'clock at night. 
 When we came back he said : 
 
 "Look here, if I build a house out there I want 
 you for a neighbour. You ought to live in the 
 
210 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 country. Will you build a house on one of those 
 neighbouring hills?" 
 
 I replied: "Well, there is just one objection to 
 it, Judge. I haven't the money to spare. My busi- 
 ness needs all my funds, and I don't feel able to 
 build another home." 
 
 "I recently received a large fee for conducting a 
 case," he replied — the largest fee, it was said, that 
 had been paid any lawyer in the country up to that 
 time — " you see money comes easy to me, and I will 
 lend you the money or give it to you. I want you 
 for a neighbour." 
 
 Of course, I would not accept a gift, but even- 
 tually I did build a house on the hill, and we be- 
 came the closest of friends — we always spent our 
 Sunday evenings together when at home. He was 
 one of the great jurists of the country, had been 
 Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Pennsyl- 
 vania before entering Buchanan's Cabinet, and his 
 country home was visited by several notables of 
 the day, including Garfield. Judge Black died in 
 my arms, and his death was one of the greatest 
 blows I ever received. He was a great reader, a 
 fine speaker and writer, and one of the most in- 
 teresting conversationalists I ever knew. He died 
 with a prayer on his lips that his faithful wife should 
 be preserved and comforted. I telegraphed the 
 news of his death to the national Attorney General 
 and the Secretary of State, then Messrs. Brewster 
 and Freylinghuysen, and they ordered all of the 
 
Here and There and the Presidents 211 
 
 office buildings of their two departments to be 
 draped in mourning. To Judge Black's house 
 came a number of the noted men of the time and 
 there I met many of them, among them James A. 
 Garfield and James G. Blaine. 
 
 Blaine had a marvellous faculty for remembering 
 people. His friends claimed that he never forgot 
 any one whom he had once met and spoken to. 
 I had heard of this and once, before I had ever 
 been introduced to him, I determined to test 'it. 
 I met him coming out of his house at Bar Harbor 
 and said: 
 
 "Don't you remember meeting me at Altoona 
 where you made an address?" 
 
 He shook his head as he replied: "No, if I had 
 met you I should remember it." 
 
 Then I went on to quote from his address and 
 he answered: 
 
 "Yes, your quotation is exact but I have never 
 met you before." He was absolutely positive and 
 absolutely correct. 
 
 One of the ties that united Judge Black and 
 myself was a common love of poetry and good 
 literature. Being blest with a good memory, I 
 have no difficulty in repeating long poems to-day. 
 Frequently the words of some poem which I have 
 not thought of since my youth will come to mind 
 and I can repeat pages of it without a break, so 
 tenaciously has it been stored away in my memory. 
 It has been of real help to remember some heroic 
 
212 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 lines at times when there was plenty to discourage. 
 The love of reading is a good stabilizer of character, 
 and the learning of poetry by heart an excellent 
 training of the memory. It seems to me in these 
 modern days that the problem of reading has be- 
 come more and more that of selection. There is no 
 dearth of good books to be readily obtained by any 
 one who wishes to read. I often wish the time were 
 twice as long so that I could read more of the good 
 things that come to my desk, and yet I must now 
 depend upon someone to read to me, since my eyes 
 will not admit of any extended use. Books have 
 become to me, in that intimate and personal way 
 which is so enticing to the true book-lover, "the 
 ghosts of my former friends." I must take them 
 for the most part through the voice of another, 
 and lose thereby much of their fine flavour. 
 
 Astronomy has always had a fascination for me. 
 
 Many hours of my youth were spent in gazing at 
 
 the stars, locating the constellations, reading about 
 
 the heavens. And then I always kept in mind the 
 
 necessity of self-training. So few people think 
 
 | of that. You must keep your own company as 
 
 | long as you live, and how important it is to have 
 
 I that company congenial, someone you can respect, 
 
 ) so that if you have no other company you will 
 
 \ have the inner resources within yourself to make 
 
 f the time profitable. A man must be decent if he 
 
 is to sense the full flavour of human relations. 
 
 For instance, a libertine has no real pleasure in 
 
Here and There and the Presidents 213 
 
 the society of young girls. His mind is sensual, 
 spoiled, corrupted — he cannot understand or ap- 
 preciate the delicate beauty and fineness of 
 innocence. 
 
 I knew Henry Ward Beecher slightly — and of 
 course by reputation. I never passed a Sunday 
 in New York without going to hear him, although 
 I often had to stand, for it was a common thing for 
 all the seats to be taken. One was sorry when 
 Beecher stopped. He was a wonderfully attrac- 
 tive speaker and a most interesting personality. 
 Most of the sermons of that day were about hell. 
 Beecher eliminated hell from his sermons; came 
 out flat-footed against the conception of a hell, 
 and said there could not be both hell and God, 
 and he preferred to believe in God. I was in- 
 dignant at the charges of immoral conduct against 
 Beecher; I knew they must be false. No one who 
 really knew and loved Beecher could for a moment 
 doubt his integrity and purity. 
 
 Moncure Conway was a noted preacher and 
 author. He was another of my warm friends. 
 Just about seventy years ago my father in re- 
 turning one evening took from his pocket a memo- 
 randum book that he said he had picked up in 
 the road. He read some interesting items, from 
 which he gathered that the writer was a young 
 Methodist preacher temporarily located in the 
 neighbourhood. We wished to meet him person- 
 ally and so sent word that he could have the book 
 
214 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 by calling for it at our home. He called and spent 
 the evening — and 'many other evenings afterward. 
 He was already a graduate of Dickinson College in 
 Carlisle, Pennsylvania. The library which An- 
 drew Carnegie gave to this college some years 
 ago was named Conway Hall, in honour of him. 
 My father became deeply interested in Conway, 
 and suggested his taking a course at Harvard 
 College, where he would meet many congenial 
 spirits. This he did, and the friendship with my 
 father was continued. My father visited him at 
 the College several times, and it was dining these 
 trips that he made the acquaintance of Emerson, 
 Longfellow, Thoreau, the Alcotts, and others 
 known as the Concord School of Philosophers. 
 Moncure Conway remained a friend of our family 
 and of me until his death. At one time he had a 
 chapel in London which was attended by John 
 Bright and many other notables. My father 
 visited him there, as I did also on two occasions. 
 On Conway's return to New York we always 
 visited him at his home on Fifty-Ninth Street. I 
 recollect that one Sunday evening his daughter Mil- 
 dred told me she was going down to her East 
 Side Sunday School and invited me to accom- 
 pany her. I found a very interesting audience, 
 composed of people of all nationalities: Jews, 
 Christians, Catholics, and Protestants. She was 
 much interested in trying to improve their con- 
 dition, giving them lessons in dressmaking, cook- 
 
Here and There and the Presidents 215 
 
 ing, etc. As we walked home I asked where the 
 money came from to sustain the institution, as it 
 must have cost considerable to keep it going and 
 I knew her father could not spare the money. She 
 told me it was given by a friend of her father's who 
 did not wish his name divulged, but she finally 
 told me his name with the understanding that it 
 should not be mentioned. The generous donor 
 has passed away, and there is no objection now 
 to giving his name — Jacob Schiff, the great New 
 York banker. It was simply one of that splendid 
 man's many benefactions. 
 
 I attended Mr. Conway's funeral services at 
 the house of his son Eustace in New York, sitting 
 with Mr. and Mrs. Carnegie, who were his warm 
 friends. Conway's autobiography is deeply inter- 
 esting and widely read. 
 
 My introduction to Professor Henry, the Di- 
 rector of the Smithsonian Institution in Washing- 
 ton, came about through my uncle, Benjamin | 
 Hallowell, at a meeting in which they discussed the 
 progress of the world and the great inventions of 
 the past, present, and probable future. They 
 decided that we could not expect as much in the 
 next half century as in the last. Since then we 
 have had the telephone, electric railways, auto- 
 mobile, typewriter, aeroplane, wireless telegraphy, 
 submarines, internal combustion engines, and 
 countless things which have astonished the world ! 
 What will the coming half century bring forth? 
 
216 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 I was once with Graham Bell at a dinner, and 
 while there we fell to discussing whether the 
 telephone could ever be used commercially — this 
 was about 1877. The majority of those present 
 said No, it would be only a toy to amuse people. 
 Theodore Vail, one of the guests, said it could be 
 used, that there was a great future in it, and he 
 would undertake to form its future. They after- 
 ward made an arrangement by which Vail should 
 take hold of the telephone. Vail, of course, sold 
 stock, and it was very lucky for him that he could 
 not sell as much stock as he wanted to, for what he 
 kept for himself eventually became very valuable. I 
 remember that George Small, of York, brother and 
 partner of Latimer Small, and then in charge of the 
 branch of the Small business in Baltimore, told the 
 story of an acquaintance of his who was dissipated 
 and had run through his fortune until he had but 
 about a thousand dollars left. He told Mr. Small 
 that he was going to spend his last thousand in 
 one great jag and then give up. Mr. Small ad- 
 vised him to take a flyer in the stock market and 
 buy this new telephone stock. The young fellow 
 asked what that was, and on having it explained 
 said: 
 
 "That is so absurd it appeals to my fancy, and I 
 will buy a thousand dollars' worth of stock." 
 
 He did so, and it made him a fortune. When 
 I last heard of him he was a rich man. 
 
 The first time I talked through the telephone 
 
Here and There and the Presidents 217 
 
 was at the Centennial Exposition in Philadelphia. 
 My brother-in-law was with me, and he took the 
 transmitter at one end of the line in another build- 
 ing and I took the receiver. It seemed to me one 
 of the most astonishing things man could conceive 
 of, but no one then seemed to imagine it would 
 become one of the world's greatest time savers. 
 
 I have known the presidents more or less well 
 since Cleveland, whom I knew quite well and 
 have already tried to portray. I knew and ad- 
 mired General Grant. I have already spoken of - 
 him. Following Grant was Hayes. I frequently 
 visited President Hayes. President Hayes's title 
 to the presidency was affirmed by the Supreme 
 Court, but it was well known that he did not 
 really receive the majority of the votes cast, as 
 he was counted out in South Carolina, Florida, 
 and Louisiana. Of course, the Supreme Court 
 decision settled the matter, although it took some 
 time for the opposition to become reconciled to 
 this, and Hayes's sensibilities suffered from the 
 fact that the election was of doubtful validity. 
 President Hayes was a graduate of Kenyon Col- 
 lege, Gambier, Ohio, which college, by the way, 
 gave me my LL.D. degree. He was a man of high 
 character and charming personality. 
 
 I have already referred to President Garfield, 
 whom I first met at the home of Judge Black. 
 He was one of the most attractive characters I 
 ever knew, an eloquent speaker and well read. 
 
218 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 I became attached to President Garfield and his 
 family; I attended Garfield's funeral, travelling 
 in the funeral train, and later attended the mar- 
 riage of two of his children at Mentor, Ohio. I 
 was deeply impressed by Secretary Blaine's funeral 
 oration, delivered in the House of Representatives, 
 the latter part of which I have never forgotten. 
 It goes thus: 
 
 As the end drew near his early craving for the sea returned. 
 The stately mansion of power had been to him but a weari- 
 some hospital of pain; he begged to be taken from its prison 
 walls, its oppressive, stifling air, its homelessness and hope- 
 lessness. Gently, quietly, the love of a great people bore 
 the pale sufferer to the longed for healing of the sea, there to 
 live or to die as God should will, within sight of its heaving 
 billows, within sound of its manifold voices. With wan, 
 fevered face, tenderly lifted to the cooling breeze he looked 
 out wistfully upon the ocean's changing wonders, upon the far 
 off sail whitening in the morning light, upon the restless waves 
 rolling shoreward to break and die beneath the noonday sun, 
 upon the red clouds of evening arching low to the horizon, 
 and the serene and shining pathway of the stars. Let us 
 believe that his dying eyes read a mystic meaning which only 
 the rapt and parting soul may know. Let us hope that in 
 the silence of a receding world he heard the great waves break- 
 ing on a farther shore and felt already upon his wasted brow 
 the breath of the eternal morning. 
 
 Blaine loved him. Garfield was a very lovely 
 character, very interesting, and the whole world 
 was stirred by his death. The fishing smacks 
 in England put their flags at half mast. He was 
 
Here and There and the Presidents 219 
 
 very human, very attractive and sweet in his dis- 
 position. The assassination of Garfield seemed to 
 touch the whole world — his hard fight for life and 
 his death by the sea which he loved. He was re- 
 moved from the White House in the easiest riding 
 Pullman coach that could be found, with pressed 
 paper wheels, and the crowds which lined the 
 route all the way were as silent as death. When 
 they arrived at the seashore, people had come down 
 from New York; crowds were standing silently 
 as the train slowly passed by. An Englishman 
 who owned a cottage at Elberon gave it up to the 
 use of the President, and they laid a railroad right 
 over the lawns and through the front yards so 
 that the car which bore him could be taken to the 
 door. All was in charge of his faithful secretary, 
 J. Stanley Brown, who afterward married Gar- 
 field's daughter Mollie. I went to see the Presi- 
 dent while he was sick. Mollie, his daughter, was 
 then about eleven years old; the others were boys 
 — James and Harry. 
 
 After Garfield's death I became quite well ac- 
 quainted with President Arthur. He was very 
 polite and attractive. In calling on him once at 
 the White House his secretary said he had just 
 gone in to dress for dinner. I asked him to take 
 my card in and was invited to come in and sit 
 in his room while he dressed — which shows how 
 unconventional he was. We had a good talk. 
 
 I never could get very close to President Harri- 
 
220 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 son. I don't think any one did. But he im- 
 pressed me as a very able man of a judicial 
 temperament, one on whom we could rely, and 
 probably under his reserve a very likeable fellow. 
 His speeches throughout the country were always 
 admirable, and his administration on the whole 
 was successful, but the country became disgusted 
 with the inordinate tariff rates, and that was the 
 main issue raised in the second election of Cleve- 
 land. 
 
 Of Cleveland — my warm friend — I have already 
 spoken. He was followed by McKinley, who had 
 a charming personality. I grew to be very fond 
 of him. I have already written an account of 
 the reappointment of W. I. Buchanan as Minister 
 to the Argentine. I called on the U. S. Senator 
 from Iowa to get his approval of the reappointment 
 of Buchanan, in order to assist Mr. McKinley in 
 getting release from a promise made for the ap- 
 pointment of another man, for which the President 
 seemed very grateful. The news of his assassina- 
 tion in Buffalo was a great shock. An account of 
 it was telegraphed me by his secretary, Mr. Cortel- 
 you, in the evening, followed by a message every 
 morning and evening until his death. I attended 
 his funeral, entering the church with the Hon. 
 Myron Herrick, our present Ambassador to France. 
 It was most impressive. 
 
 Then we had President Roosevelt — always a 
 personal friend. I never went to Washington 
 
Here and There and the Presidents 221 
 
 without visiting him. He was unquestionably 
 one of the best informed and most attractive 
 men I ever knew. As an instance, there was a 
 meeting of ornithologists at the New Willard 
 Hotel. One of them made a criticism of some- 
 thing President Roosevelt had said about a cer- 
 tain bird. I asked him if he was acquainted 
 with the President. He said he had not that 
 honour but added that he would like to meet 
 him. I wrote on the back of one of my cards an 
 introduction to the President, with the remark 
 that the bearer did not agree with him about 
 this bird. The card gained him the desired 
 audience at once, and he told me in the evening 
 that he had had a very pleasant chat with the 
 President, who knew far more about that bird than 
 he did — and, as for that matter, about everything 
 else. 
 
 On another occasion I was kept waiting awhile, 
 very properly, by the doorkeeper because the 
 President had a Senator with him. The President 
 came to the door with the Senator and asked me 
 how long I had been waiting. I told him about 
 half an hour, and he said: 
 
 "Why did you not come in as I told you?" 
 I answered that the doorkeeper would not admit 
 me. He laughed, and asked: 
 
 "Why didn't you knock him down?" 
 Once Senator Root came in with a new am- 
 bassador while I was talking to the President. 
 
222 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 He motioned me to take a seat, which I did. They 
 conversed for an hour and a half by the clock — 
 one of the most interesting hours I ever spent in 
 my life. As they went out the President said 
 to himself: 
 
 "Well, I am now through for the day." Turn- 
 ing round, he noticed me and said: "Why, what 
 are you doing here?" 
 
 I told him: "I took a seat as you directed." 
 
 He said: "You have heard some important 
 state secrets." 
 
 "Oh, yes," I answered, "but they will remain 
 secrets with me." He threw his arm round my 
 shoulders and said, "I know that." We had a 
 delightful talk. 
 
 Just before the nomination of Taft I saw the 
 President and I said: 
 
 "It is a pity that you promised not again to be 
 a candidate — there would have been no trouble 
 about your renomination and you could have 
 finished up the work you are engaged in." 
 
 He seemed to agree with me, but said he would 
 recommend Taft as his successor, and wanted me 
 to support him, which I promised to do, but I told 
 him I did not know Mr. Taft. He said: "Go 
 over and see the Secretary." I went to the War 
 Department. The Secretary was busy, but when 
 he heard that I had been sent by the President, he 
 invited me in at once and we were friends from 
 that hour. I did not think Mr. Roosevelt treated 
 
Here and There and the Presidents 223 
 
 President Taft entirely fairly when Taft ran for the 
 second nomination, and told him so. He replied: 
 "The people seemed to want me to be a candidate; 
 twelve governors have called on me insisting it was 
 my duty, and I feel it is my duty to do what the 
 people of the country want." 
 
 I insisted that it would hurt his reputation, 
 that another election could not add to it, and then 
 we had our first breach or misunderstanding. 
 After the nomination of Taft and his defeat, I 
 met the Colonel's son, Theodore, Jr., at Bertron, 
 Griscom & Co's bank, where he was engaged at 
 the time, and he asked me why I did not drop in 
 to see his father at the Outlook office as I used to 
 do, adding that his father had spoken of it the day 
 before. I said: 
 
 "Oh, I doubt if he wants to see me." 
 Theodore went to the telephone booth, called 
 up his father, told him that I was there, and I 
 distinctly heard the familiar word, "Delighted," 
 in his father's voice, as I was standing at the door. 
 He turned around and said: 
 
 "Father will be delighted to see you." 
 I was never met more cordially in my life than 
 when I called on the Colonel at the Outlook office 
 en route up town, and our friendship lasted till the 
 great man's death. 
 
 Of course, I am fond of Mr. Taft — everyone is 
 who knows him — and I often saw him. He spoke 
 of me as an adviser of presidents in one of his 
 
224 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 speeches, and seemed glad to talk with me on 
 various subjects. His dream always was to enter 
 the Supreme Court. Mr. McKinley had prom- 
 ised him the appointment when there was a 
 vacancy, but told him that he could save ten 
 thousand men by going to the Philippines and 
 settling matters there. This was shortly after 
 the acquisition of the islands. Mr. Taft deemed 
 it his duty to go, and made a great success. The 
 natives liked him. All over the island they tacked 
 boards to trees on which they wrote: "We love 
 Taft." He was also successful in making arrange- 
 ments as to the Church property with the Pope; 
 he was always successful wherever harmony was 
 needed. The wish of his life is now fulfilled as 
 Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. In speaking 
 of the appointment to President Harding, I was 
 glad to find he agreed with me and had already 
 made up his mind about it. 
 
 Of course when the Great War broke out I felt 
 it my duty to do what I could in the common 
 cause; I- spent considerable time in Washington, 
 where I saw much of Secretaries McAdoo, Lane, 
 Baker, and Daniels, Who were all my friends. 
 Secretary McAdoo told me that he would have 
 liked to have me as a member of the Shipping 
 Board, but we compromised by my promising to 
 act in an advisory capacity. I was received very 
 cordially by the Board when I visited Washington. 
 I reminded them that the Government had never 
 
Here and There and the Presidents 225 
 
 manufactured ships, only built them one at a time, 
 and that we wanted a man of vision to take hold 
 of emergency ship building. I was asked whom 
 I would recommend. I said: "Charlie Schwab, 
 General Goethals, and Henry Ford are all men of 
 vision." They asked me to talk with them over 
 the long-distance telephone. Mr. Schwab said 
 he was overwhelmed with shipping business for 
 the Government at his works in Bethlehem and it 
 would not be to the advantage of the Government 
 for him to leave. General Goethals said: "I am 
 a soldier and am ready to obey orders." 
 
 Henry Ford was not at home, but wrote me 
 afterward an appreciative letter. 
 
 General Goethals was appointed, and there 
 developed a good deal of friction ending in the 
 retirement of the Chairman of the Board and of 
 the General. I begged the General to stick, but 
 he thought it best to resign. I then did my best 
 to induce Mr. Schwab to take the place and with 
 the help of the President finally succeeded. Mr. 
 Schwab told me that General Goethals's plans were 
 all good and that he would work on the same line. 
 I had the pleasure of telling this to the General — 
 which seemed greatly to please him. 
 
 I of course saw as much of President Wilson as 
 he had time for. He was a very busy man. His 
 addresses and letters were classics, and his con- 
 ception of the League of Nations to put an end 
 to war was great and could have been carried 
 
226 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 through with a few reservations had there not 
 been so much personal antagonism. 
 
 My friendship with President Taft continued 
 after his retirement. I recollect walking down 
 Chestnut Street with him from the Bellevue-Strat- 
 ford Hotel to Independence Hall when the League 
 to Enforce Peace was started, a movement in which 
 I took a very great interest. Mr. Taft was deeply 
 interested in the Versailles League, made some 
 good suggestions which were adopted, and sincerely 
 regretted that our country failed to join; since 
 more than two thirds of Congress favoured a league 
 of nations the President and the Foreign Re- 
 lations Committee ought to have compromised 
 their differences. 
 
 And now we have Warren G. Harding, whose 
 administration promises well. He is admirably 
 equipped by a knowledge of business and po- 
 litical experience in the Congress of the United 
 States. A knowledge of politics is essential to 
 the best work of a chief executive. I have met 
 Mr. Harding personally a number of times. He 
 manifested not only willingness but eagerness to 
 hear what I had to say. He has gathered around 
 him an exceptionally strong cabinet, and I proph- 
 esy a successful administration. The great work 
 for which he will probably stand highest is the 
 epoch-making Limitation of Armaments Confer- 
 ence which is at this writing reaching a successful 
 close. 
 
Here and There and the Presidents 227 
 
 A prominent member of the previous ad- 
 ministration told me that with such strong men 
 around him, Harding could not fail to have a good 
 administration, especially mentioning his admi- 
 ration for Hughes and Hoover. Mr. Hoover I 
 look upon as one of the greatest men living in 
 the world to-day. Judged by Lincoln's criterion 
 that the greatest man is the best man and the 
 best man is the one who has done the most 
 good, Hoover certainly overtops most men. Mr. 
 Hoover has Lincoln's idea that we are in the world 
 to do good, and that we should make it the main 
 object of our lives to do the most good we 
 can. 
 
 Two of my family were in government ser- 
 vice. Edward Farquhar was assistant librarian 
 in the Patent Office, a position he attained at 
 the age of twenty-two and held until his death. 
 He was quite a noted scholar and scientist in 
 Washington and understood thirteen languages. 
 We were constant correspondents, and I feel his 
 loss deeply to the present day. 
 
 Another brother, Henry Farquhar, was in the 
 Coast Survey, statistician of the Agricultural 
 Department, and in the Census Bureau until his 
 late retirement on reaching 70 this year. My sister 
 Ellen, at 85 years of age, is still in good health at 
 the old home, enjoying her flowers, books, and 
 many friends. My brother Allan, the youngest, 
 remained on the farm, but is secretary of the 
 
228 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 Mutual Fire Insurance Company of Montgomery 
 County, which has a large clientele. 
 
 Of my sons, William E. Farquhar is a con- 
 tractor in New York, and doing well. My son 
 Percival has an international reputation as a 
 promoter of large enterprises. Among other things 
 he was president of the Brazil Railway Co. and of 
 the Mamore Railway Co. in Brazil, and the rail- 
 road from Santa Barros to Guatemala City, called 
 the Guatemala R. R., and was active in building 
 the Cuba R. R. from Havana to Santiago, running 
 nearly the length of the island. 
 
 I have always been deeply interested in the 
 subject of the peace of the world. I regard war 
 as the greatest enemy to business as well as to 
 moral and intellectual advancement. I attended 
 the Hague Conference in 1907, where I was enter- 
 tained by Mr. W. I. Buchanan, ex-Secretary Fos- 
 ter, and others. I was at the laying of the corner- 
 stone of the Carnegie Palace of Peace at The 
 Hague. I attended an arbitration conference in 
 London some years before the outbreak of the war, 
 where I met Lloyd George, and had the honour of 
 being on the same platform with him. I also was 
 introduced to Mr. Asquith and had the pleasure of 
 dining with him twice. I met a number of prom- 
 inent Englishmen and was entertained by Lord 
 Brassey and the Duke of Northumberland. 
 
 In my visit to London in 1884 I had letters 
 of introduction to Justin M'Carthy and was in- 
 
Here and There and the Presidents 229 
 
 vited to his home. He was one of the very inter- 
 esting men. I also met his son Justin H. M'Carthy. 
 One of the most interesting events of that trip 
 was a meeting with Mr. Gladstone. He was 
 to speak in a hall of the Waverley Market House 
 in Edinburgh. Tickets had been sold to the full 
 capacity of the great hall. They told me it was 
 impossible to get a seat. I called at the home of 
 the chairman of the committee of arrangements 
 and told him I had come on purpose to hear Mr. 
 Gladstone. He smiled, handed me a ticket, and 
 said: "This will admit you all right." 
 
 I joined the crowd. The police told me the 
 hall was already jammed full and they could not 
 admit any one, that there were evidently more 
 tickets sold than there were seats. I told an officer 
 I had been given a ticket by the Chairman of the 
 Committee on Arrangements. He asked to see 
 it, and when I handed it to him he called an 
 officer, who took me by the arm and escorted me 
 around to the door leading to the platform, where 
 I was given a seat right by Mr. Gladstone, Lord 
 Rosebery, Lord Rhea, and several others to whom 
 I was introduced. I had a very interesting chat 
 with Mr. Gladstone before the meeting com- 
 menced. Among other things I asked him what 
 was the happiest time of life. He said : 
 
 "You must ask an older man than I am — in- 
 terests increase with gathering years." 
 
 I have felt this to be true in my own case. 
 
230 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 At the hotel I met a man that evening who spoke 
 to me and said he had seen me on the platform, 
 that he himself was at the extreme end of the 
 hall, but could hear every word Mr. Gladstone 
 said just as well as though he had been right by. 
 Gladstone had a wonderful voice which would 
 carry all over the largest building. 
 
 I was very much attracted to Lloyd George. 
 His head, next to that of Daniel Webster, is about 
 the strongest, most leonine that I ever saw. I 
 met him again at the Hotel Crillon in Paris in 
 1916 when I went with the Industrial Commis- 
 sion to France, during which time we visited the 
 trenches and were in Rheims while that city was 
 under bombardment. This was the year before 
 our country declared war. Lloyd George said : 
 
 "The last time I saw you we were talking for 
 peace, I remember; now we are fighting for it. 
 What are you doing?" 
 
 I told him we were investigating, but that there 
 was no question but that we would be assisting 
 them very soon, that the indications all pointed to 
 it. Lloyd George I regard as a wonderful character, 
 probably the ablest statesman now living in the 
 world. 
 
 The numerous societies to which I have be- 
 longed have brought me into contact with a great 
 many interesting men known in literature and 
 science. Although still closely identified with 
 the business here, my interests extend largely to 
 
Here and There and the Presidents 231 
 
 outside matters, especially the Chamber of Com- 
 merce of the United States, one of the most im- 
 portant influences for good in the country, wholly 
 non-political, interested in better legislation, better 
 transportation, housing, civics, and everything else 
 that contributes to the welfare of the country. 
 
 For many years I had felt the need of such an 
 organization, as had many other business men. I 
 took it up with the Secretary of Commerce, Hon. 
 Oscar Straus, and later on with Secretary Nagel 
 and President Taft. I found strong sympathy for 
 the movement. Its organization commenced with 
 a large gathering from all parts of the country in 
 Washington called by Secretary of Commerce 
 Nagel, during Taft's administration, where Harry 
 A. Wheeler, of Chicago was elected first president. 
 I was made vice president for the East. At the 
 first meeting of the directors, Mr. Wheeler being 
 late, I took the Chair. We had no money, nothing 
 even to pay for the stationery used, and it was 
 proposed that the directors should each pledge a 
 thousand dollars. Our forty directors, who are 
 prominent men from all parts of the country, serve 
 without pay. I have attended every directors' 
 meeting since organization — when I have been in 
 the country. I have never heard one word spoken 
 with any motive other than the public welfare, nor 
 politics ever discussed. We get through a great 
 deal of business in a very short time. I have often 
 thought that Congress could take lessons from us. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE BEASONS FOR BUSINESS 
 
 IN 1884 the country was again in the midst of a 
 business depression. We had spurted might- 
 ily in business for five years, prices had gone 
 up, and as always on a rapidly rising market, men 
 began to speculate by buying ahead of their needs. 
 During those five years it was all but impossible 
 to talk to a business man without having him tell 
 you that he had, by wise buying, a profit of so many 
 thousand dollars on his inventory. There were no 
 poor buyers. 
 
 In a rising market only a genius can be a poor 
 buyer, for by the time he has the goods delivered 
 prices have risen so that he can show a profit on 
 inventory. Why any one should want to brag 
 about a profit on inventory, I cannot imagine. 
 The purpose of manufacturing or merchandising 
 is to buy and sell with whatever service may be 
 required to make the selling price higher than the 
 buying price. It has always been my practice to 
 be conservative in purchasing beyond my needs. 
 Only when careful study of world conditions con- 
 vinced me that a rise was sure did I purchase ex- 
 cess stock. Ordinarily I would rather run the risk 
 
 232 
 
The Reasons for Business 233 
 
 of paying the higher price than tie up my money 
 in raw material speculation with the inevitable 
 prospect of serious embarrassment when my val- 
 uable inventory suddenly became less valuable. 
 
 Iron and steel were steadily advancing and when 
 I refused to commit myself on a long contract with 
 Jones & Laughlin on the ground that the price was 
 too high, I received a long letter from Mr. Jones, 
 head of the firm, telling me that I was mistaken 
 and that iron and steel would not come down, that 
 they would probably continue to advance, and no 
 man knew the high limit of price. On the con- 
 trary, I was sure that all signs pointed to the 
 fact that iron and steel were too high and that 
 prices would soon recede. Sixty days after this 
 correspondence, prices began to fall rapidly. Jones 
 was one of the big figures of the time, a splendid 
 manufacturer, a good deal of a politician, having 
 been chairman of the Republican National Com- 
 mittee, and an incurable "bull." I have previ- 
 ously spoken of his predictions but I will add that 
 he had the faith to act on them and when in 1884 
 with everything booming, people suddenly quit 
 buying, he was left with a vast quantity of high- 
 priced steel on hand, and had it not been for the 
 extraordinary financial resource of his firm, it would 
 have been embarrassed. 
 
 Andrew Carnegie, on the contrary, although 
 he also was an incurable optimist, always kept his 
 business well in hand. He never speculated, and 
 
234 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 when prices were dropping and all the steel manu- 
 facturers were faced with something that ap- 
 proached ruin he cut steel rails to $15 a ton, 
 arranged his production on a 24 -hour basis, and 
 throughout all the dull time ran to capacity. He 
 told me that during this period, when many steel 
 concerns were losing money, he made as much 
 money as at any previous period of his business 
 history. 
 
 There was a general depression rather than a 
 panic in 1884. I do not recall any considerable 
 failures. There were a number of smaller ones 
 but no great and dramatic failures like that of Jay 
 Cooke. People simply got tired of rising prices 
 and quit buying, thereby to my mind showing 
 common sense. But to the mind of the man who 
 had stocked up recklessly in the expectation of 
 reckless buying at reckless prices, the country was 
 going to the dogs. 
 
 The farmers were particularly dissatisfied with 
 prices. They had been making money, but at the 
 low price to which farm products fell they declared 
 that they could not make a decent profit and would 
 not bother to increase their production. I have 
 always had a good part of my business directly 
 with farmers and in all these years, trading with 
 thousands of farmers, I have never heard one admit 
 that prices were satisfactory, and only one, in my 
 recollection, admit that he was making money. I 
 should regard a farmer who was not thoroughly 
 
The Reasons for Business 235 
 
 dissatisfied with prices and who was not declaring 
 that he ought to stop farming and cease putting out 
 crops to rot in the fields as an exception. I should 
 regard him as even more an exception if ever he did 
 fail to plant to capacity. 
 
 It is, of course, entirely impossible for the ma- 
 jority of farmers to know whether or not they are 
 making a profit. They keep at the best only cash 
 accounts and rarely have any way of ascertaining 
 costs. So no matter what are the prices they are 
 bound to be dissatisfied because all they spend, 
 whether personally or for the farm, whether charge- 
 able to expense or capital account, is regarded as 
 an expense. In the view of the average farmer a 
 net profit would be the sum left over after he had 
 made all the purchases he regarded as essential. 
 By that method of calculation a satisfactory profit 
 is impossible. 
 
 The farmers often discover by reading the farm 
 papers the large sums of money they are losing. 
 In every depression I have heard farmers speak 
 feelingly in terms of millions and billions of dollars 
 how much the farmer was losing, and they seemed 
 to regard themselves as vicariously losing these 
 vast amounts. As a matter of fact, in the average 
 farm a large portion of the product is consumed 
 upon the place and it does not make the slightest 
 difference what is the market price for this home- 
 consumed portion of the product. But I have 
 seldom been able to convince a farmer of this or 
 
236 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 to convince him that if he received high prices for 
 his products he would also have to pay high prices 
 for other products. Although I have a vast num- 
 ber of friends among farmers and am something 
 of a farmer myself, I regard any attempt to satisfy 
 the farmer either concerning the price he receives 
 for his product or the price he must pay for what 
 he buys, as being in the class with perpetual motion. 
 
 I have often tried to explain prices in bushels of 
 wheat — to show that he paid me no more bushels 
 of wheat than before and that often he paid me 
 less, but this made little impression. 
 
 With business dropping off, we had cancellations 
 of orders and were left with more stock on hand 
 than we cared to have, but we immediately reduced 
 expenses all along the line and started out at once 
 to get rid of our merchandise — some at a small 
 profit, some at no profit. Because we made our 
 reductions at once we were quickly able to clear our 
 stockrooms and because we had little high-priced 
 stock on hand we could take advantage of the 
 lowering prices of raw material and sell our finished 
 product at low prices but at a profit. Holding on 
 to higher-priced stocks in a depression in the hope 
 of higher prices generally is bad business, for then 
 one postpones the time when he can buy and sell 
 in the usual relation to the price level of commodi- 
 ties. 
 
 The country was in a dissatisfied mood, which 
 usually forecasts a change, and at the 1884 elec- 
 
The Reasons for Business 237 
 
 tions, Grover Cleveland, a Democrat, won out over 
 his Republican opponent. An election held in 
 the midst of a business depression generally brings 
 a change of party in power. Failing all else, we 
 always blame the Government for bad business 
 and always the quacks come forward with sure 
 remedies. 
 
 The quacks never are elected but they cause the 
 party in power to be defeated. The opposition in 
 this emergency has to nominate a conservative 
 candidate and we have the odd spectacle of the rad- 
 icals voting for a conservative rather than for the 
 nominee of the party in power, no matter how 
 liberal he may affect to be. Cleveland was a very 
 solid, conservative man. And he proved a fine 
 bulwark against the economic lunacy of the times. 
 
 These political changes seem always to proceed 
 upon no higher foundation than a slogan. For 
 instance slavery was often justified because it was 
 "to the best interest of the improvident slave 
 himself" and then, too, it was "more productive 
 than free labour," and finally, as a clinching answer 
 to any one who advocated the cause of liberty, came 
 the Socratic question : " Do you want your daughter 
 to marry a nigger? " The convictions behind these 
 slogans, or engendered by them, were so fixed that 
 as a political force they were defeated only by trial 
 of battle— that is, by the Civil War. The Re- 
 publicans conducted the Civil War, but Lincoln 
 did not conduct it as a partisan war, for he brought 
 
238 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 into his councils and sent into important posts in 
 the field leading men of the party that opposed him. 
 But the war was under Republican administration 
 and growing out of the war, the same party had 
 on its hands the giving of a social status to the freed 
 men and the reestablishing of the national credit. 
 These great questions were not set entirely at rest 
 until 1880. 
 
 As late as that year the Republican victory 
 appeared to most cool-minded business men neces- 
 sary for the maintenance of specie resumption. 
 Personally I have always been an Independent in 
 politics voting for the party that I believed could 
 best serve the country, so I have no prejudice 
 whatsoever in discussing either party. I have 
 voted for Republicans, Democrats, and Progres- 
 sives. 
 
 The Republican Party in reestablishing the credit 
 of the country had found it necessary to advocate 
 a large revenue and ample taxation. The victory 
 in our civil conflict had been distinctly that of an 
 industrial civilization over a feudal or patriarchal 
 one. The great industrial enterprises were on the 
 side under whose leadership the victory had been 
 won, and naturally when their influence came to 
 be active in their own behalf, it was the party to 
 which they had attached themselves that most felt 
 it. Pennsylvania, as our largest industrial com- 
 munity, has always been overwhelmingly Republi- 
 can in national affairs and therefore it was a very 
 
The Reasons for Business 239 
 
 easy journey for a party that had begun with the 
 high moral purpose of preserving the Union to be- 
 come a party advocating a high tariff. Thus arose 
 what we know as the "American system of protec- 
 tion." 
 
 The Democrats found their power in the South. 
 Being then a party of States' Rights, they opposed 
 a tariff for other than revenue, in which position 
 they were fundamentally no less selfish than the 
 Republicans, for the rank and file of the Democrats 
 would never have cared a rap about States Rights 
 in relation to the tariff had it not been that the 
 Southern states, being exporters of cotton and not 
 then manufacturers, wanted to make their pur- 
 chases in markets where the prices were not arti- 
 ficially raised by tariff restrictions. 
 
 There has never been any altruism in the whole 
 tariff discussion. The tariff proceeds on a theory 
 that it is not only desirable but also possible 
 to reduce imports and yet leave exports undis- 
 turbed, and out of this arises the delusion of the 
 favourable trade balance. Having the trade bal- 
 ance in our favour means that we export more 
 than we import. We have discovered that, al- 
 though a small balance in our favour may be liqui- 
 dated in gold, a large balance must be liquidated in 
 goods or not at all. It is not possible to increase 
 the supply of any commodity in any market with- 
 out lowering its exchange value, if there is nothing 
 to excite and increase purchases. In the case of 
 
240 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 gold we call this lowering, "an increase in prices" 
 but the difference is in phrase and not in meaning. 
 
 The expense in gold of producing goods for ex- 
 port must continually increase as long as gold ex- 
 portations last, while the return for the goods not 
 only does not increase, but as our absorption of gold 
 creates a comparative scarcity in the countries that 
 send it, the return actually decreases. The coun- 
 tries with the smaller gold stocks are thus able to 
 offer us their goods at smaller prices in gold ex- 
 pression while we through higher supply of gold 
 become more and more disposed to buy them. So 
 that eventually these price differences overcome 
 the obstacles we set up to the importation of goods 
 and force imports again to equal exports. As 
 Adam Smith says: "When you dam up a stream of 
 water, as soon as the dam is full as much water 
 must flow over the dam head as if there were no 
 dam at all." 
 
 It takes a surprisingly short while to fill the trade 
 dam. This is not the place for a tariff discussion 
 (which I went into rather fully some years ago in a 
 book written in collaboration with my brother 
 Henry, entitled "Economic and Industrial Delu- 
 sions"). But I have not been able to discover, 
 during a rather careful study of our whole economic 
 history (and the personal experience of a good part 
 of it), any benefit which the country has ever de- 
 rived through import duties for other purposes than 
 revenue, excepting in the case of certain industries 
 
The Reasons for Business 241 
 
 which it seemed good for the country to have and 
 yet which could not reasonably be expected to 
 acquire the initial capital to make the start against 
 world competition. If infant industries could be- 
 gin with large capitalization they would not need 
 protection, for they could finance themselves over 
 the losing years, but it is not reasonable to expect 
 that such a large amount of capital will be sub- 
 scribed to a new venture and hence a tariff is some- 
 times valuable in permitting the experiment to be 
 made on a smaller capital. 
 
 The product we manufacture has usually been 
 protected, and my view as expressed some years 
 ago and which I find no reason to change is this: 
 "We manufacture machinery on which, to protect 
 us within the United States, a duty is set. But this 
 duty is like that placed on imported wheat, of no 
 assistance whatever to the producer. For we 
 send a large portion of our manufactures abroad; 
 in the markets of South America, South Africa, and 
 Australia we are compelled, and owing to advan- 
 tages in labour and machinery are able, to compete 
 with all other producers in the world without pro- 
 tection. I do not need to prove that since we can 
 trade in those markets without special favours we 
 have no need of them to keep our place in this. If 
 we were circumstanced like the owners of copper 
 mines, for instance, with a supply so firmly held in 
 few hands that consumers were completely at our 
 mercy, and able to sell our product year after year 
 
242 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 at what is received for it in London plus the duty 
 on it, we might get some advantage from protec- 
 tion." 
 
 But we could get none without engaging in a 
 legalized pillage of our fellow citizens. The cost 
 to us of this merely nominal guerdon of legislation 
 is higher prices on the raw material of every ma- 
 chine or implement we put on the market — hence 
 fewer and smaller sales. Wages are not increased 
 in buying power by a protective tariff. Many 
 times I have seen manufacturers put on the stand 
 in investigations and heard them depose in this 
 fashion: 
 
 "I confess, I am selling my wares for higher 
 prices than English makers ask. If I had to com- 
 pete with the English unprotected, it would be 
 necessary for me to pay my hands less than I am 
 now paying. Otherwise I must close and leave 
 them without employment." 
 
 All this is gravely set before the guileless labour- 
 ing man and gaping rustic, who are expected to 
 take it on its face value, without any allowance for 
 the facts that even practical men are often deluded, 
 and that almost any man is prone to put powerfully 
 the side of a question on which he sees his own 
 interests. His testimony may after all mean 
 nothing more than that he does not know all he 
 thinks he knows, or else that he is getting a pretty 
 good thing by making his customers pay more 
 than the worth of the goods. It is defective in 
 
The Reasons for Business 243 
 
 another way; for the reduction of expenses, that 
 freer trade would be certain to bring about, is not 
 suggested. Many manufacturers would save more 
 in reduced cost of raw materials were import du- 
 ties abolished than they would lose in reduced 
 price or reduced sale of product. 
 
 Little attention is called to the fact that a manu- 
 facturer is usually paying his hands the regular 
 market rate of wages. Competition exerts its full 
 force on him in that way. It may happen, in rare 
 instances, where there is an exceptionally large 
 profit on his product, that the employer will pay his 
 men more than he is obliged to pay. The intelli- 
 gent workman knows this. Patrick replied to his 
 employer, we remember, when advised to vote 
 with the Republicans if he wanted better wages: 
 "And if you thought the Republicans were after 
 raising my wages, you would be voting for the 
 Dimmicrats yourself." An employer engages in 
 business, of course, with the object of making 
 money, and his business to succeed must necessar- 
 ily be governed by business principles and it is 
 hypocrisy for him to state that it is simply run for 
 the benefit of the community. The theory of 
 wages based on the testimony of employers is 
 chiefly remarkable, therefore, for its glaring omis- 
 sions. 
 
 The wages in one trade depend on what is paid 
 in others; and that wages could not be lowered 
 generally by free trade across the frontier becomes 
 
244 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 very clear when we remember the laws by which 
 such trade is necessarily governed. Commerce 
 between nations is interchange of product for pro- 
 duct. If any specie passes in these transactions, 
 it goes in obedience to a law of supply and demand 
 that custom-houses cannot control, from the coun- 
 try in which it can at the time be procured with 
 less effort than can some bulky commodity, to one 
 where the difference is the other way. Specie thus 
 distributes itself exactly as do other products of 
 labour, and its function in settling balances does 
 not affect the general truth that international com- 
 merce is barter. 
 
 Since every purchase of a foreign product is 
 therefore a sale of one of our own products, since 
 the interchange takes place only because we find 
 the same labour more effective when put on the 
 product sold than it would be if applied directly to 
 the product bought, the action that foreign trade 
 has upon labour is, in a general way, to increase its 
 productive capacity. If a difference in the wages 
 paid to labourers in two countries can be main- 
 tained with a small volume of trade between them, 
 what change can be brought about by making the 
 volume larger? Labour would thus become some- 
 what more productive in each of the two, the sup- 
 ply of it not increased, and the demand certainly 
 not diminished in either. 
 
 My particular interest in these tariff matters just 
 now comes from observing that a policy of high 
 
The Reasons for Business 245 
 
 protection follows every depression and usually 
 forms part of a prosperity-hindering programme 
 to restrict production. At the very moment that 
 foreign goods are barred from our markets, our 
 manufacturers, instead of taking occasion to in- 
 crease their productivity by the introduction of the 
 best and most scientific methods, apply themselves 
 diligently to the restriction of production through 
 trade association or trust agreement to the end of 
 getting more money for less work. 
 
 There are many ways of accomplishing this end. 
 They can reduce production by agreement. This 
 is, of course, an injury to the workman as well as 
 to the consuming public. On the other hand they 
 have a legitimate economic advantage in being able 
 to reduce overhead expenses. Tariffs have been 
 called the Mothers of Trusts, and this is true, since 
 without tariff protection the combination or trust 
 might be beneficial — at any rate its power of injury 
 would be curtailed if not destroyed. 
 
 Restriction of production in spite of every 
 sophistry which surrounds it, has its end in making 
 the country poorer. It is precisely in line with 
 hiring people not to compete with you — that is, 
 " engaging in a conspiracy against the welfare of 
 the nation. 
 
 Scarcely had the Civil War closed when all of 
 the politicians, irrespective of party, began to go 
 after the soldier vote and now history is again 
 repeating itself. I have always felt and still feel 
 
246 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 that this is a country worth fighting for — that the 
 Government does not owe anything to any citizen 
 in comparison with what all the citizens owe to the 
 Government, for if the Government is anything it 
 is only the expression of the will of the citizens. 
 When the citizens are called upon to defend the 
 Government and no distinction or exemption is 
 made in this call for service, then such of these 
 citizens as are called are exercising a privilege col- 
 lateral to that of the franchise and they should no 
 more expect to be rewarded for having been given 
 that privilege than they should be paid to vote. 
 
 There is, of course, the exception of those who 
 are injured in the service of the country and there- 
 fore liable, through disability, to become public 
 charges. They should be supported by the com- 
 munity as a whole — that is, by the Federal Govern- 
 ment — instead of by individuals. 
 
 But there can be no excuse for the wholesale 
 pensions that were granted in increasing number 
 after the Civil War or for the bonuses which 
 threaten to take their place after the Great War. 
 It is not that the soldiers demand these perquisites 
 — it is always the politicians who stimulate the 
 movement in the hope of thereby securing election. 
 
 After the Civil War both Democrats and Re- 
 publicans vied with each other in offering financial 
 inducements for the soldier vote and they kept on 
 doing so until, as the years passed, the vote of the 
 war veterans ceased to be important. A bid for 
 
The Reasons for Business 247 
 
 the soldier vote is always put upon patriotic 
 grounds notwithstanding the fact that payment is 
 the negation of patriotism. A man cannot mix 
 patriotism and money if he has the remotest idea 
 of what patriotism is, but I have never heard the 
 bid for the soldier vote either in the past or in the 
 present expressed in the only way that it can be 
 truly expressed, which is: 
 
 "I will give you money that does not belong to 
 me if you will vote to put me in power and then 
 keep quiet about what I do when I am there." 
 
 The tariff, decently dressed, was the Republican 
 bid for special privilege. Fiat currency was the 
 special privilege bid of the opponents. This was 
 first expressed in greenbacks and then in free 
 silver and with the passing of the years and in its 
 free-silver form it gradually fastened itself on the 
 Democratic Party. The argument was that a 
 plentiful supply of money made for good business, 
 and therefore, if only you had enough printing 
 presses and got out enough money, you could not fail 
 to have good business — although most people will 
 admit that while a little whiskey may make a man 
 frisky, a great deal of it will drop him into a heap. 
 
 It was not good business that the currency spe- 
 cialists were after. They wanted something for 
 nothing. It has never been possible to convince 
 the majority of the people that prices are purely 
 relative; they will think of prices in dollars and not 
 in buying power, and by juggling the currency they 
 
248 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 know they can get more dollars. Rarely does 
 any one go far enough to realize that these dollars 
 would not mean more buying power. When the 
 cry for free silver was raised, as far as those who 
 felicitously called themselves "the true friends of 
 the white metal" were concerned, they were trying 
 only to get the Government to buy all the silver 
 that they produced at a fixed rate in relation to 
 gold and thus avoid the annoyance of having fluc- 
 tuating prices for their silver. Of course, the prices 
 would have fluctuated, for the price of gold fluc- 
 tuates, but that they did not know. 
 
 What they did know, however, was that if you 
 could get, through the free coinage of silver, ten 
 dollars for what otherwise you would have gotten 
 only $8, then debts already incurred could be liqui- 
 dated at a discount. The East loaned money and 
 the West borrowed it. Currency ideas that leaned 
 to the repudiation of debts on plausible grounds 
 therefore found favour in the West. Of course, they 
 did not look ahead to the fact that if you cheer- 
 fully pay off the money you borrow at a good dis- 
 count, you may be in trouble when you next need 
 money and try to borrow it. 
 
 We heard a good deal then about "bloated bond- 
 holders" and "Shylocks," and the plain inference 
 was that although it was perfectly proper to borrow 
 money it was highly dishonourable to lend it. 
 This theory has, I think, remained unchanged to 
 the present day. 
 
The Reasons for Business 249 
 
 The point I am trying to bring out of my ex- 
 perience with these national economic questions is 
 that it is always popular to bring out a quack and 
 shortsighted remedy and it is always unpopular 
 to suggest that to-morrow will be another day. 
 And that always behind these quack and immediate 
 remedies put forward for the good of the people 
 is a considerable special interest which, being also 
 extremely nearsighted, thinks it can make a turn 
 at the expense of the welfare of the country. 
 
 I have found that the best antidote for acute 
 economic insanity is ownership of property. My 
 favorite example is Otto Steininger. He was one of 
 my first employees and was what was rare in those 
 times — a rip-roaring anarchist. He insisted that 
 all wealth came from the workers and therefore 
 should go back to the workers. He was particu- 
 larly bitter against his landlord and hardly a week 
 went by that he did not announce that he had 
 definitely decided that he would like to shoot the 
 landlord the next time he came around for the rent. 
 Finally I asked him smilingly after one of these 
 outbursts: 
 
 "Why don't you buy your own house instead of 
 shooting your landlord ? Then you would not have 
 to pay any rent. If you do shoot him you may 
 get into trouble." 
 
 He did not think much of the idea apparently 
 but in a day or two he asked me how he could buy 
 the house. I answered : 
 
250 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 "That house can be bought for $800. You are 
 getting good wages. I will buy that house for you, 
 take $4 a week out of your wages, and in less than 
 four years you will have it paid for." 
 
 He went off again. The next time he came 
 back it was with his wife. He said: 
 
 "We are going to buy that house but since we 
 have no children you can take $10 instead of $4 a 
 week out of my pay envelope." 
 
 I bought the house and then Otto's chief concern 
 was to get it paid for, which he did in a little more 
 than a year. There was another house next door 
 to him. In a short while after he had paid for his 
 first house, he sidled up to me and said: 
 
 "I can buy that house next door for a thousand 
 dollars. Now that we have no rent to pay we are 
 going along good. What would you think about 
 me buying that?" 
 
 He bought that house and joined the hated land- 
 lord class. Some years later when it was reported 
 that a band of strikers were advancing on York to 
 shut all the factories, Otto rushed into my office 
 at the head of an excited group of men from the 
 shop yelling: 
 
 "Get us a lot of shotguns and we'll keep those 
 fellows out of here. Those damned fools expect a 
 man to work and save and then walk in here and 
 take what he has got without paying for it." 
 
 And that, I think, is always the way to develop 
 a conservative. 
 
The Reasons for Business 251 
 
 One of my old blacksmiths took another tack. 
 He was a pretty good blacksmith but he did like 
 the dramshop and to the best of my knowledge 
 never missed getting drunk a single Saturday night 
 during the thirty-odd years that he worked for me. 
 On Monday he was never quite himself but by 
 Tuesday he always was, which meant that he was 
 one of the best blacksmiths in the place. He fell 
 very ill and sent word that he would like to see 
 me before he died. 
 
 I sat by his bedside for a while and recalled to 
 him, not in a preaching way, but in the father-and- 
 son manner, that we always then had among us, 
 how he had come to me so many years before as a 
 strong and healthy lad and how liquor had wrecked 
 his constitution. He knew that I did not drink 
 and probably he thought I was trying to draw a 
 parallel between him on his deathbed and me, 
 although many years older, in perfect health, for 
 with a grin he pulled himself on his elbow and said : 
 
 "Yes, I know all about that, but just let me tell 
 you that I have had more fun in my life than you 
 would have in a hundred years!" 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE RISE OF BIG BUSINESS 
 
 DURING the period from 1870 to 1880, busi- 
 ness, which had formerly been conducted 
 by individuals or partnerships, began more 
 and more to take corporate form. Before then 
 when one spoke of buying stocks or bonds he 
 meant railroad stocks or bonds, for there were 
 practically no others. Then industrial securities 
 began to appear, but it was many years before 
 other than railway securities were regarded as 
 safe investments. 
 
 In consonance with the trend of business, 
 incorporation became easier. Most states passed 
 laws permitting the issue of charters and letters 
 patent to corporate associations practically as 
 of course, after a compliance with certain statu- 
 tory provisions, instead of, as previously, making 
 it incumbent upon those desiring to associate 
 themselves into a corporation to secure a special 
 enabling act from the state legislature. I think 
 the convenient organization of the railways was 
 the example that led in the beginning to the use 
 of the corporate form. 
 
 Because businesses were growing larger and 
 
 252 
 
The Rise of Big Business 253 
 
 beginning to involve many interests, they found 
 serious embarrassment in the interregnum and 
 the locking up of finances which, unless especially 
 provided against, were imposed by the decedents' 
 laws of the states. Most of these industrial 
 corporations as at first formed were really only 
 partnerships with the stock very closely held and 
 amounting to all intents and purposes, excepting 
 from a legal standpoint, to no more than part- 
 ners' interests. A little later it was discovered that 
 additional money might be had without losing 
 control by the issuance of bonds, and still later 
 came the non-voting preferred-stock idea. 
 
 The preferred stock was devised by the longer- 
 headed corporate organizers who saw that in the 
 case of an industrial organization an issue of 
 bonds always constituted a danger, for the in- 
 terest had to be paid whether or not any profitable 
 business was done. A company therefore was 
 safer with the preferred-stock issue than with the 
 bond issue, which, of course, generally involves 
 a mortgage. But it was not until very recent 
 years that astute investors began to appreciate 
 that the preferred stock of a company without 
 bond issues is sometimes a better security than 
 would be a bond of the same company. It took 
 a long time to get away from the real-estate- 
 mortgage idea and to realize that an investor 
 could in any event get a return only from what 
 the corporation earned, and that a perfectly sound 
 
254 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 corporation might, by reason of a couple of bad 
 years, be forced to borrow money to avoid a de- 
 fault in bond interest and thus invite a failure that 
 would not have occurred if it had been permitted 
 to husband its resources through the passing of 
 stock dividends. For a foreclosure sale of a big 
 property rarely fetches 100 per cent. cash. As 
 a rule, however, the first mortgage bonds of good 
 companies which have been in successful opera- 
 tion for some time and earned several times their 
 interest charges are rightly regarded as safer 
 investments than stocks. We incorporated our 
 own business in 1889. 
 
 As lawyers and business men became more 
 familiar with the form of corporate organization 
 they began to use it for less legitimate purposes 
 — for the avoidance of personal liability, and to 
 make profits out of organization instead of out 
 of operation. It was not at first realized by the 
 general public, and perhaps it is not yet realized, 
 that the issuance of a share of corporate stock 
 of the par value of $100 does not make that stock 
 worth $100 or worth anything beyond the earn- 
 ing power of the property it represents. 
 
 The great advantage of the corporate form was 
 the opportunity that it gave for the acquisition 
 of new partnership capital and we began then 
 the economic progression to larger units of busi- 
 ness. The small manufacturer rapidly gave way 
 to the larger corporation. For instance, farm 
 
The Rise of Big Business 255 
 
 implements such as wagons and ploughs and 
 harrows had been rather generally manufactured 
 by crossroads wheelwrights employing but one or 
 two hands. The larger manufacturer was able 
 to install machinery and to fabricate in what 
 was then considered quantity — although at no 
 time in the eighties or in fact until years after- 
 ward did we fully appreciate the value of repeti- 
 tive processes and the intricate sub-divisions of 
 labour which now distinguish our most efficient 
 industries. 
 
 What we did was to introduce more machinery 
 and to some extent specialize labour and even 
 this small beginning in efficient production was 
 amply sufficient to turn out a product so much 
 cheaper than that brought forth by individual 
 endeavour that the crossroads builders became 
 simply blacksmiths or repair men and not in- 
 frequently gave up their shops altogether and 
 hired out in the larger factories. Being used to 
 hard work and initiative, these men were usually 
 extremely valuable workers and a good propor- 
 tion of the superintendents, foremen, and under- 
 foremen in the larger factories were men who had 
 previously been in business on their own account. 
 
 It was not until the nineties that the corporations 
 began to combine to any extent under trust agree- 
 ments and it was still later that the very large 
 combinations of corporations into "trusts" were 
 formed. I have always held that this progression 
 
256 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 has been of the greatest possible benefit to the 
 country because the tendency was to eliminate 
 waste and, in spite of the attempts at monopoly 
 or interference with competition, the real growth 
 of the truly big corporation was due to the fact 
 that it could manufacture and sell goods inore 
 cheaply than could the less efficient small pro- 
 ducer. And the more goods we get at low prices 
 the better off is the country. 
 
 In this larger view I consider it bad business to 
 attempt to get orders away from another man un- 
 less you can give as much or more for the money 
 than can he. The growth of the larger corpo- 
 ration directly affected our business some years 
 later. We had been manufacturing harvesting 
 machinery, but when the International Harvester 
 Company came into the field with its own saw- 
 mills, furnaces, rolling mills, etc., to supply its 
 raw material, and with its great organization 
 it could give more for the money in harvesting 
 machinery than could we, so I felt that it was 
 necessary to discontinue such lines as the Har- 
 vester Company could make and sell more cheaply 
 than I could. 
 
 Some years later, when the Harvester Company 
 was sued under the Sherman Law, the counsel 
 for the Government, knowing that I could not 
 successfully compete with the big company in the 
 manufacture of certain lines, called me as a witness 
 for the prosecution. I readily testified my in- 
 
The Rise of Big Business 257 
 
 ability to compete and then I went on to say that 
 I considered the Harvester Company as a public 
 benefactor because, by reason of its organization, 
 the farmer was able to buy a better article for the 
 money than he was able to buy from me. In the 
 midst of my testimony an attorney for the Gov- 
 ernment interrupted me angrily: 
 
 "I do not want to hear another word from that 
 witness." 
 
 " I propose to speak the truth," I replied. " You 
 should have followed the very good rule of know- 
 ing what your witness was going to testify to be- 
 fore you called him." 
 
 The Judge directed me to continue and I told 
 the Court that I had always favoured any policy 
 which gave the greatest good to the greatest num- 
 ber and I felt that I should accord honour and not 
 malice to any man who, by better methods, suc- 
 cessfully competed with me. 
 
 That rule has brought me business in ample 
 volume and I have consistently followed it even 
 to the point of taking the initiative and refusing 
 an order when I knew the prospective buyer could 
 get more for his money elsewhere. This is not 
 only sound economics but good business. 
 
 For instance, some years ago a man came on 
 from New York to place with me an order for a 
 large number of cast-iron columns. I should have 
 liked to take the job but I knew there was an- 
 other factory in town especially equipped for the 
 
258 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 kind of work he wanted and that it could serve him 
 to better advantage than could I. Therefore, 
 instead of taking his order I referred him to my 
 competitor. A few days later the competitor met 
 me on the street and he said : 
 
 "I got that job. What in the dickens have you 
 got up your sleeve? If I could not get a job my- 
 self I would be hanged if I should let any other 
 man in town get it." I told him that, on the con- 
 trary, if I could not get a job for myself I should 
 try to see that somebody else in town did get it. 
 Fortunately, with the introduction of manufac- 
 turers' associations and chambers of commerce, 
 this disposition has become general. 
 
 But suppose I had taken that job — and this is 
 only one out of many cases — and the buyer had 
 later discovered that I had not been frank with 
 him? He would have had no legal cause for com- 
 plaint and perhaps he would never have thought 
 to complain, but should I have had his hearty good 
 will and the assurance that he was safe in trading 
 with me on an absolutely frank basis? One gets 
 friends by being a friend and personally I have 
 never been able to understand envy or malice. 
 Why should not one be glad to see another get on? 
 Why is it not a satisfaction to see any man hon- 
 estly accumulate property and gain wealth? Why 
 is it not pleasant to have a successful man build 
 himself a handsome residence? I, standing out- 
 side, can have all the pleasure and appreciation of 
 
The Rise of Big Business 259 
 
 its beauty, while he, standing inside, has to pay 
 the taxes! 
 
 The corporate form with its successions in man- 
 agement undoubtedly did tend to remove the em- 
 ployer from his men and brought about a gradual 
 change in the character of the workmen. Un- 
 doubtedly it has brought a remarkable increase 
 in machine efficiency, but I think man efficiency 
 has decreased. 
 
 I have a number of men who have been with me 
 more than fifty years and on the general average 
 these men, all of whom are past sixty -five and some 
 past seventy years old, do more in a day than the 
 employees of the present generation. As one 
 laughingly explained to me not long since : 
 
 "I have not yet learned the art of working 
 slow." 
 
 Some of these men are remarkable characters. 
 Take four who have been with me more that fifty- 
 five years: George Witmer, who packs for export. 
 He refuses to be bothered with packing lists; he 
 knows what ought to go in each case, and I do not 
 remember that he has ever made a mistake. 
 Peter Rentzel is the head of the plough wood de- 
 partment in the export division and knows all 
 there is to be known about that department, while 
 Thomas Leader, a lumber inspector, can get more 
 out of a plank of wood than it would seem possible 
 that the plank contained. And Wesley Hilde- 
 brand, for many years foreman of the pattern 
 
260 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 shop, takes the same interest in his work and the 
 success of the factory as though it were his own. 
 
 We lost, by death, a very remarkable man — 
 almost a genius — in Henry Eisenhart. He assisted 
 in developing and perfecting a number of patents, 
 especially in threshing machinery, but he would 
 never consent to take out any of these patents in 
 his own name. He insisted that he was hired by 
 the year, that therefore his time in or out of the 
 shop belonged to me and that the results of what- 
 ever he did belonged to me. It was quite im- 
 possible for any one to get him to shift his position 
 in this matter of patents. He was the foreman of 
 the carpenter shop but really knew something of 
 what was going on in all the shops. In addition to 
 being a good workman he was also a good citizen 
 and at one time they wanted to nominate him 
 for mayor on a ticket that would have insured 
 his election. He consulted me and I advised him 
 that he would be happier as foreman than as mayor 
 and so he unhesitatingly refused the nomination. 
 
 With the rise of corporations came the organi- 
 zation of labour, first in one form and then in 
 another, although labour at no time was so ex- 
 tensively organized as under the American Feder- 
 ation of Labour during the Great War. We had 
 its predecessor, the Knights of Labour, a somewhat 
 radically inclined body that eventually wrecked 
 itself by endeavouring to become a political body. 
 I have never at any time found that the real 
 
The Rise of Big Business 261 
 
 workingman of this country when away from his 
 job would consent to vote on a basis different from 
 that of any other citizen of the Union. 
 
 I regard the human relation in industry as the 
 most delicate part of the complex economic 
 machine and, probably because it is so delicate 
 and so easily disrupted, it receives more than its 
 share of theories that are not based upon expe- 
 rience and which do not in practice work out. It 
 was Aristotle who said: "It is safe to follow no 
 theory that is not buttressed by practice." While 
 theoretical discussion has great value, industrial 
 relations, questions pertaining to capital and 
 labour, particularly to the attitude of workingmen, 
 can best be solved, it seems to me, by those who 
 have united practice with science in forming con- 
 clusions. 
 
 Collective bargaining is one of the theories which 
 sound well, but in practice it means that men who 
 know nothing of your business, have no intimate 
 personal touch with your workmen, come in and 
 dictate as to the management of that business; in 
 practice it makes it impossible for the manage- 
 ment to employ good and efficient workmen who 
 are needed unless those workmen are members of 
 or will join the particular union controlling that 
 shop. In practice it means that men in whose 
 judgment and good intentions no intelligent per- 
 son can for a moment have faith, seek to put what 
 amounts to a throttle upon industry, for the os- 
 
262 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 tensible benefit of the workingman, but in reality, 
 in the majority of cases, for their own ulterior and 
 destructive ends. 
 
 Again, we might also pertinently inquire how a 
 bargain can be made when one side has neither 
 legal nor moral responsibility, wants none, and 
 only too often repudiates contracts when made. 
 I have no quarrel with the unions. The right to 
 organize for mutual protection and benefit is not 
 questioned; neither is there any question but that 
 through the instrumentality of unionism the 
 workers in some cases have secured for themselves 
 desirable and beneficial reforms which otherwise 
 might not have come, or come only after long de- 
 lay, having been grudgingly conceded under the 
 pressure of competition by autocratic and unpro- 
 gressive employers. Unionism's danger, however, 
 is that of becoming autocratic itself. One of its 
 principal objects appears to be, in all too many 
 cases, that of getting a strangle hold upon an 
 industry and then putting on the screws. On the 
 part of the independent workman to whom unions 
 are distasteful and who prefers to retain his liberty 
 of action, the closed shop operates to shut the 
 door of opportunity and deprive him of his pri- 
 mary and inalienable right to pursue his lawful 
 vocation without interference. 
 
 The unions must eventually see that they are 
 on the wrong track, and under the guidance of 
 more enlightened leadership they may eventually 
 
The Rise of Big Business 263 
 
 become of real benefit to their membership and an 
 important and beneficial part of the social organi- 
 zation. If the domination of extremists is en- 
 couraged or permitted, as now in many labour 
 organizations, they invite disaster, not only to 
 themselves but also to the industrial fabric gen- 
 erally. It has been always thus. No happiness 
 or contentment can grow out of the seeds of envy 
 and hatred. The condition of Russia furnishes 
 a striking object lesson. 
 
 It is often said that the door of opportunity is 
 shutting in the face of the wage earner. There 
 could be no greater error. His opportunities for 
 advancement are much greater now than they 
 were when I commenced business; they were never 
 so good in the history of the world as now and in 
 this country. If he is only willing to pay the 
 price of success, which involves economizing and 
 doing his best, he will find the avenues open. 
 There is no use blinking the fact that there are 
 many whose limitations are such as to preclude 
 their ever rising above a humble station. This 
 is no discredit to them, and they are always en- 
 titled to just and fair treatment, but under no 
 social arrangement holding any chance of per- 
 manence can it be expected that they should re- 
 ceive the same reward that comes to those of 
 greater native ability who make full use of their 
 talents. 
 
 I am persuaded that it is as idle for capital and 
 
264 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 labour to fight as for the hands to fight the head. 
 Both are absolutely essential, are interdependent, 
 and I believe the working classes as well as the 
 employing class will eventually come to understand 
 this. A great deal depends upon management 
 and personal contact. I could mention a number 
 of examples. One of our foundry employees, a 
 number of years ago when we were working on a 
 large export order taken at a narrow margin, com- 
 plained that he and some of his companions were 
 not receiving sufficient pay in proportion to the 
 rest. I knew they were getting all we could 
 afford to pay, but referred him to the department 
 heads with instructions to them to investigate 
 the matter thoroughly and impartially and give 
 him the result, after which I told him to come to 
 see me, and if we could afford to pay more we 
 should do it. As he failed to appear, I sent for 
 him. When he came, he said: 
 
 "I am a good sport. I find you are paving all 
 you can afford to pay, and am afraid if you changed 
 our pay for that job you would have to reduce 
 it." The investigation had proved that we could 
 not afford an advance. 
 
 On another occasion, fifteen or twenty years 
 ago when I had practically retired from active 
 management, a large export order which was 
 wanted in a hurry was dragging along, and the 
 superintendent told me it was utterly impossible 
 to get it out in time. I knew the men and told the 
 
The Rise of Big Business 265 
 
 superintendent to go off on a vacation — I would 
 take care of the shop. He went, and I took charge, 
 going out in the factory and joining with the men. 
 They were spurred to renewed effort, largely in- 
 creased their output, took the greatest interest in 
 the game of beating time, and enjoyed it as much 
 as I did myself. Needless to say the job was got- 
 ten out in the time promised. 
 
 There is a great deal in keeping in close contact 
 with the workmen — in treating them as fellow 
 workers. They should understand that they are 
 working with the employer, rather than for him; 
 that the employer's business is to provide them 
 with work so that he can keep them continuously 
 employed and pay their wages. If they are given 
 a square deal, there will be no difficulty between 
 employer and employed if they are not interfered 
 with by outsiders. 
 
 I am fain to believe that the eventual result of 
 the present unrest and discontent will be a better 
 relation between capital and labour, employer 
 and employed, than has ever been enjoyed before. 
 It has set men to thinking and planning. There 
 are many promising signs, and I believe the true 
 prophet must be an optimist. It has been es- 
 tablished in our plant. Meetings of foremen and 
 managers are held weekly, as well as weekly meet- 
 ings of an executive committee chosen by the men 
 from amongst their fellows, which comes together 
 in connection with the management for the dis- 
 
266 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 cussion of improvements or complaints and the 
 well-being of employees generally. The system 
 has so far worked admirably. Even with the 
 greatest care and fair dealing, however, a strike 
 is always possible from outside interference. There 
 is a great deal to be said in favour of the theory 
 of profit sharing, letting wages depend entirely 
 upon the profit, but if practised at the time this 
 is written (August, 1921) the workmen would 
 have nothing to live on — another proof that a 
 theory must be buttressed by practice before it 
 is safe to follow. Of course, I favour giving bo- 
 nuses where there are extra profits. 
 
 The depression of 1884, as I have noted, caused 
 the election of Grover Cleveland. I usually 
 voted the Republican ticket and besides I had 
 a personal affection for Blaine, the Republican 
 nominee, and therefore I did not vote for Cleve- 
 land in his first campaign; but afterward I came 
 to know Mr. Cleveland very well indeed and to 
 esteem him as one of the greatest executives that 
 this country has ever produced. I did not know 
 him personally before election, although I had 
 known him through friends and by correspondence, 
 and was particularly impressed by his veto of the 
 5-cent-fare bill on the New York elevated railroads. 
 
 The franchise permitted the roads to charge 
 a 10-cent fare and Mr. Cleveland, although he 
 approved of the experiment of a 5-cent fare and 
 believed it would pay under the conditions then 
 
The Rise of Big Business 267 
 
 prevailing, would not consent to making himself 
 a party to breaking what he considered a state 
 contract. A night or two after his veto he ap- 
 peared in a New York theatre and the audience 
 rose and hissed him. Yet they turned around 
 later and elected him President. I was talking to 
 Judge Black of this veto and he said to me: 
 
 "There is a remarkable man. He approves of 
 the 5-cent fare and knows that it is popular and 
 knows that signing the bill would have made him 
 popular personally, but he vetoed it simply 
 because it would be a clear breach of faith and he 
 would rather antagonize every citizen in New 
 York than break faith. That act is brave enough 
 to make him President of the United States." 
 
 I called to see President Cleveland after his in- 
 auguration and he said to me: 
 
 "I feel simply overwhelmed with the responsi- 
 bility of my position. I feel that I should like to 
 shut myself up for a month and think over things 
 and try to insure against mistakes. I am now 
 President of the United States. I am no longer 
 a party man, but believe that he serves his party 
 best who serves his country best." 
 
 During his two terms I saw Mr. Cleveland many 
 times and he used to discuss public affairs with 
 me with the utmost freedom. I had especially 
 interesting conferences with him during the sev- 
 eral crises that marked his administrations. 
 
 It seems not to have been generally realized 
 
268 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 that in January, 1895, this country was on the 
 verge of financial ruin. The advocates of un- 
 limited silver coinage had succeeded in so thor- 
 oughly alarming the world that foreigners were 
 selling our securities. All of the free gold was 
 being exported and both banks and individuals 
 were hoarding. A canvass of the financial in- 
 stitutions demonstrated the impossibility of float- 
 ing a bond issue upon satisfactory terms in gold 
 or of using any other means to get together a 
 sufficient stock of gold to save the Treasury. The 
 situation was critical. I made a special journey 
 to Washington and had a long talk with the 
 President. I found that things were even worse 
 than I had feared. He had before him a telegram 
 from Mr. Jordan, the sub-Treasurer of New York, 
 saying that at the present rate of depletion the 
 gold balance would be exhausted within forty-eight 
 hours. 
 
 The President explained to me that he had a 
 plan to raise the money to tide over the Treasury 
 until September 1st (when our trade balance 
 ought to turn and give us a supply of gold) by 
 selling bonds to J. Pierpont Morgan in connection 
 with August Belmont, the agent of the Roths- 
 childs, with the understanding that they would 
 pay gold for the bonds. Mr. Cleveland said they 
 had made a very satisfactory offer. He further 
 said that since all United States bonds would un- 
 questionably be paid in gold at maturity there 
 
The Rise of Big Business 269 
 
 was no reason why the new bonds should not be 
 so worded, but Congress was opposed to the issue 
 of gold bonds and therefore he had to act without 
 their consent. 
 
 It was estimated that this issue made in Europe 
 at the higher rate of interest, would cost the 
 country over $10,000,000 more than if Congress 
 had authorized the issue as at first proposed. I 
 strongly advised the issue of sufficient bonds to 
 stop the export of gold, but said that the plan 
 would arouse great opposition in Congress. The 
 President agreed with me. 
 
 "But," he assured me, "I propose to protect 
 our gold reserve and the financial honour of the 
 country regardless of criticism. While I am 
 President there will be no suspension of gold 
 payments." 
 
 The President carried out his plan. He issued 
 the bonds and they were sold in Europe. On the 
 very day of issue the gold loaded on vessels in 
 New York for transport to Europe was taken off 
 and returned to the banks and with the outflow 
 of gold stopped business at once revived. The 
 President had favoured a popular loan. He did 
 not want anything else, but when he found that 
 impossible, he resolutely availed himself of the 
 next best thing in spite of criticism. Congress 
 and not the President was responsible for the 
 extra cost of the loan because of its issue without 
 Congressional authorization, but since the business 
 
270 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 of the country was suffering to the extent of a mil- 
 lion or more dollars a day (according to an editorial 
 in the New York Tribune) by the uncertainty about 
 the maintenance of the gold standard, this sum 
 was recouped within two weeks. Cleveland was 
 severely attacked by the New York Tribune, 
 among other papers. I wrote the editor per- 
 sonally, enclosing their previous editorial and 
 calling his attention to the fact that by their own 
 calculation the amount had already been made 
 up. His answer was that there would be no 
 more criticisms of the President on that account. 
 
 I was at Woodley, the President's country 
 residence near Washington, one Sunday afternoon, 
 when some members of Congress came in and said : 
 
 "Mr. President, we wish to see you on an im- 
 portant matter." I got up, but he motioned me 
 to keep my seat. They continued: "We have 
 about decided to declare war against Spain over the 
 Cuban question. Conditions are intolerable." 
 
 Mr. Cleveland drew himself up and said: 
 
 "There shall be no war with Spain over Cuba 
 while I am President." 
 
 One of the members flushed up and said angrily: 
 
 "Mr. President, you seem to forget that the 
 Constitution of the United States gives Congress 
 the right to declare war." 
 
 He answered: "Yes, it also makes me Com- 
 mander-in-Chief, and I will not mobilize the 
 army. I happen to know that we can buy the 
 
The Rise of Big Business 271 
 
 island of Cuba from Spain for $150,000,000, and 
 a war will cost vastly more than that and will en- 
 tail another long list of pensioners." 
 
 I called to see Wayne McVeagh at this time to 
 hear what he knew of the possibility of purchasing 
 the island. We were good friends. He said: 
 
 "The President's statement is correct. We can 
 buy that island and it would be an outrage to 
 declare war." 
 
 Subsequently the Maine was destroyed. Presi- 
 dent McKinley felt the same way as Cleveland, 
 but he could not stop the rush to war, although 
 Spain may have had nothing to do with the de- 
 struction of the Maine. 
 
 President Cleveland's action at the time of the 
 great Chicago strike was among the most note- 
 worthy of his several large achievements. It will 
 be remembered that Chicago was in a state of 
 partial anarchy, the leader of the disorder being 
 Eugene Debs, lately the Socialist candidate for 
 President. Altgeld, the Governor of Illinois, 
 seemed to be in sympathy with the strikers. 
 There was apparently no ground for Federal in- 
 terference until the United States mail was held 
 up. The President requested Governor Altgeld to 
 see that the mails were not interfered with. Alt- 
 geld replied in effect that the affairs of the State 
 of Illinois were exclusively his own business. To 
 this Cleveland replied summarily: 
 
 "I have ordered General Miles, accompanied 
 
272 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 by United States troops, to see that the laws are 
 obeyed and the mails not interfered with." 
 
 Everyone knows the result. The transpor- 
 tation of the mails was resumed and they have 
 never been interfered with since. The President 
 told me that he looked upon his action in this 
 case as one of the best moves he had ever made. 
 
 "It established," he said, "in the minds of the 
 people the fact that the mails of the United States 
 could not be interfered with by any one." 
 
 During the McKinley-Bryan contest, some of 
 my friends conceived the idea that I ought to be 
 a sound money candidate and that I was well 
 fitted for the place. A committee visited me. I 
 had no idea of accepting but told them I would 
 refer the matter to Mr. Cleveland, who was at 
 Buzzard's Bay, and be guided by his advice. His 
 reply was characteristic. He advised against a 
 third party candidate. His letter to me was ex- 
 ceedingly friendly. I did not want the nomination 
 or approve of a third party candidacy, and when 
 the committee visited me, I felt very sure of what 
 Mr. Cleveland would say. 
 
 Mr. Cleveland's efforts for tariff reform were 
 among his great works. Although a Pennsyl- 
 vania manufacturer and usually voting the Re- 
 publican ticket, I have always been opposed to 
 extreme protection as a breeder of war and father 
 of monopolies. Mr. Cleveland's tariff reform mes- 
 sage at the end of his first term was one of the 
 
The Rise of Big Business 273 
 
 best that ever came from the White House. As 
 a matter of policy I was inclined to think that he 
 should wait till after the election before sending 
 it forward, and called to see him in regard to 
 it. Mr. Dorshimer, connected with a New York 
 paper, the Star, told me the purport of the forth- 
 coming message at the Ebbitt House in Wash- 
 ington. He had seen the manuscript and so also 
 had Don Cameron, Senator from Pennsylvania, 
 who, by the way, was not fond at all of Harrison, 
 and he had said that Cleveland was sure of election 
 if the message were not issued. I went to see the 
 President about it, told him what I had heard, 
 withholding the source, as the message was given 
 to me in confidence. He was surprised that I 
 knew anything about it for, he said, only two or 
 three people had supposedly seen it. He asked 
 me why I disapproved. I said only because it 
 might interfere with his reelection, and he would 
 have more time if elected to carry out the good 
 work. He answered: 
 
 "I am surprised that you should take such 
 ground." He asked whether I did not think the 
 time was proper to issue the message — the people 
 were much interested in the subject. I said: 
 "Yes, except that it might defeat you." 
 
 He returned: 
 
 "We are enjoined not to do evil that good may 
 come, or avoid doing good for fear that evil may 
 
 come." 
 
274 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 He referred me to his original letter of accep- 
 tance written when first nominated in which he 
 took a stand against a second term for President 
 on the ground that there was danger of its influenc- 
 ing the President's acts — and he added: 
 
 "I should stultify myself if I failed to let the 
 message go forward from any fear that it might 
 affect my election." 
 
 I, of course, could make no argument against 
 that, and left admiring him, if possible, more than 
 ever before. He was not elected that term, but 
 he received the majority of the American vote and 
 was chosen again at the succeeding presidential 
 election. 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 
 FORGING AHEAD 
 
 IN EVERY important business depression, ex- 
 cepting the one which we are just now passing 
 through** (1921) and which has involved the 
 whole world, I have found the export side of my 
 business to be little short of a godsend, and since 
 the close of the Civil War I have tried to keep a 
 rough average of one quarter of my output going 
 overseas. The proportion has varied with the 
 state of the home trade. The result has been that 
 our factory comes rather close to holding a record 
 for continuous operation. 
 
 We have rarely shut down or even gone on part 
 time, at least until the recent depression, and this 
 has enabled us to make very satisfactory annual 
 profits without finding it necessary to take any un- 
 due profit on a single sale or the sales of a single 
 season in order to cover the costs of some previous 
 period of idleness. This has had a steadying effect 
 upon our workers. As everyone knows, that 
 which above all a worker fears is the loss of his job 
 either through discharge or through a shutdown. 
 Our workers, so long as they cared to work, have 
 been practically assured of steady work and until 
 
 875 
 
276 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 last year (and then only in one of the depart- 
 ments) we have never had labour trouble of any 
 kind. Our men have worked with us rather than 
 for us and even as the number grew large the 
 personal relation remained. Last year during the 
 period of general business lunacy when both pro- 
 prietors and workers were endeavouring to discover 
 what the traffic would bear, a few of our newer 
 men, inflamed by an agitator, who told them that 
 they might have the moon for the asking, or words 
 to that effect, did strike for something or other and 
 remained out until they discovered that the moon 
 was not to be had for the asking. But aside from 
 this little emotional outburst we have had no diffi- 
 culties and this long record of continuous profit 
 and continuously happy labour relation is, I think, 
 largely due to our record of continuous operation. 
 
 This continuous operation would not have been 
 possible without our overseas business. Several 
 times the export side has saved our commercial 
 record. I have already told how in the Panic of 
 1873 it enabled us to go on with but a two-day 
 shutdown. During the years from 1893 to 1897 
 when domestic trade was very dull indeed we lived 
 largely upon our export business. The weekly cash 
 receipts from our New York office usually covered 
 our payroll with something over and we went 
 through that most critical season not only without 
 curtailing our manufacturing but with a substan- 
 tial increase. 
 
Forging Ahead 277 
 
 The big thing to remember in the development 
 of an export trade is the service that it performs 
 during periods of dull domestic business. If things 
 are quiet at home then prices and raw materials 
 will be low and one is able to make especially at*- 
 tractive offerings for custom abroad. If, on the 
 other hand, prices at home are high, then there is not 
 so much opportunity successfully to sell abroad, 
 but in the providential balance of things, selling 
 abroad then becomes of little importance, for the 
 prices at home would not be high if the market 
 were not brisk. For these reasons I have always 
 kept my export business in what might be called a 
 take-it-or-leave-it condition. I have handled it 
 through a separate firm known as A. B. Farquhar 
 & Company, with an office in New York in which 
 Cornelius Dunlea was my partner and general man- 
 ager until his death, when I personally took charge 
 of the entire firm although continuing the name. 
 The export business in New York is now turned 
 over to A. B. Farquhar Co., Ltd. Our idea has 
 been never to load the export with any heavy fixed 
 charge and thus we remain free to curtail or ex- 
 pand according to the home conditions. I am 
 convinced that the American business man with a 
 home market that comes close in purchasing power 
 to equalling the markets of the rest of the world 
 put together does best to keep the major portion 
 of his business in that market, and use exports as a 
 steadying influence. I have found it wisest, when 
 
278 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 we had plenty of orders at home, to pay less atten- 
 tion to foreign trade and then to expand again 
 when the home market grew dull. This naturally 
 involves an organization which is always in light 
 marching order and prohibits the setting up of 
 extensive branches or the incurring of heavy fixed 
 charges of any kind. Of course, another business 
 differently situated may find it advisable to make 
 extensive plant and office investments in foreign 
 countries. Large concerns, such as the Standard 
 Oil, International Harvester, U. S. Steel, do find it 
 profitable, but I think one does well rather carefully 
 to ponder over whether the design is to go into 
 foreign trade as well as domestic trade, or to 
 supplement domestic trade with foreign trade. 
 We are not in like case with the English or the 
 Germans who have so little in the way of a home 
 market. Their methods are by no means to be 
 taken in toto as our methods. 
 
 The building of a foreign trade is usually 
 looked upon as an undertaking calling for some- 
 thing more than an average amount of genius, but 
 I have not found that it differs very much from the 
 building of a domestic trade. I was drawn into it 
 principally through my desire to know how other 
 people lived. I had always been a student of world 
 conditions, and always expect to be, and I have 
 always liked to talk with people from'abroad. The, 
 perhaps old-fashioned, habit of falling into chats 
 with fellow travellers on trains or ships is one that 
 
Forging Ahead 279 
 
 I have liked and out of which I have gotten a 
 wonderful fund of information. I do not believe 
 that I ever met any one who did not tell me some- 
 thing that I wanted to know, and this information 
 is not only valuable in a human way — for first of 
 all we are human beings — but frequently proves 
 useful in a business way. I do not know how 
 many sales I have made through leads obtained 
 in casual conversation. It was this kind of talking 
 about among South American visitors that opened 
 up to me the possibilities of selling agricultural 
 implements in Mexico and South America. My 
 English catalogue was shortly followed by one in 
 Spanish. 
 
 This was some time after the Civil War and 
 we have issued a Spanish catalogue every year 
 since then. Some of these we sent directly to 
 names that I knew in the Americas and others 
 through the commission merchants in New York 
 and Boston. I have always favoured trading 
 through the commission merchants who buy for 
 cash and resell. This avoids the bother of credit 
 investigation and the expense of maintaining 
 agents. We have more or less followed this method, 
 although without formally committing ourselves to 
 it as a general policy. I am not in favour of any 
 policy in business that does not have a degree of 
 flexibility. We have at times hired agents, mostly 
 natives, and have sold directly to the local mer- 
 chants. Being exclusively wholesalers, we do not 
 
280 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 sell directly to the consumer. We have found 
 it well always to retain sales agents who can con- 
 duct themselves anywhere and we have carefully 
 investigated their reputations and responsibility 
 before giving them power to commit us. Thus we 
 to-day send out some of our goods through Amer- 
 ican commission houses receiving payment at the 
 ship, and send out other goods to local merchants 
 on whatever credit terms seem to be mutually 
 satisfactory. 
 
 It is gratifying to know that our credit losses in 
 foreign trade done through commission houses 
 have been almost negligible. Our domestic credit 
 losses have never been large but our foreign credit 
 losses have been so small as scarcely to be worth 
 speaking about. We, of course, at times have had 
 to make extensions, and our customers have not 
 always met their paper when it was due, but when 
 they could not pay on time it was for some good 
 reason and eventually they have paid. This is 
 due, I think, to rather extensive inquiries that we 
 make before giving credit. 
 
 The first direct foreign shipment that I recall was 
 a lot of plough parts to South Africa about 1866. 
 One of the first shipments of complete implements 
 was to Paysandu, Uruguay, about 1870, and con- 
 sisted of a number of ploughs that left on a sailing 
 vessel owned by A. B. Morton & Sons of Baltimore. 
 Most of these early South American orders went on 
 sailing ships and since the sailings were few and far 
 
Forging Ahead 281 
 
 between, sometimes we had very narrow margins 
 between the receipt of the order and the sailing of 
 the ship. I remember particularly a car-load order 
 due to go on a ship from Baltimore. Two days 
 before sailing the order was complete with the 
 exception of some fifty or sixty ploughshares which 
 through an error had been delayed in the foundry. 
 Ordinarily these remaining parts would have taken 
 several days to finish. I got the men in earlier than 
 usual on the next day, poured the shares with the 
 first iron, milled them, and after six o'clock that 
 evening, with the help of two of my men, person- 
 ally packed them and took them to the car. The 
 dispatcher, Hamilton Jamison, had gone, but we 
 hunted him up and explained the emergency. He 
 entered into the spirit of the thing. 
 
 "The fast freight goes down at eight o'clock," he 
 said. "I will get that car through." 
 
 I took a train at about four the next morning, 
 and, reaching Baltimore, went to Jackson's wharf 
 and found that my car had not only arrived but 
 had already been unloaded and the vessel gone. 
 Delays are bad enough in domestic business; in 
 overseas business they are fatal because, if you miss 
 a ship, the goods may miss the season during which 
 they were expected to be sold. 
 
 It has been said that I was one of the first Amer- 
 icans to export agricultural implements. In 1870 
 we had a good-sized order from the Ames Plough 
 Company of Boston for South Africa, which intro- 
 
282 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 duced our products in that section of the world, 
 and I have always done a good deal of business in 
 South Africa. The South Africans had mostly 
 bought English agricultural machinery but I have 
 not found anywhere any tendency to discriminate 
 in favour of the mother country. People anywhere 
 in the world will buy American goods in preference 
 to any other kind provided those goods give 
 the best value for the dollar — which includes 
 having them exactly suited to the purposes. There 
 has never been and never can be, until human na- 
 ture greatly changes, a discrimination against an 
 article because of its place of manufacture. Cam- 
 paigns in favour of home-made products are being 
 gotten up from time to time all over the world, 
 but nobody ever pays much attention to them 
 unless the home-made article happens to be better 
 and cheaper, in which case it would be bought 
 without any campaign. Those who violently try 
 to force the buying of only home-produced goods 
 are usually those who have no need or intention of 
 buying. The man who is actually going to buy 
 gives lip service to all of these patriotic movements 
 and then goes round the corner and buys according 
 to the value of his dollar. I have found the English 
 to be very fair competitors in South Africa and 
 have had no difficulty in underselling them when- 
 ever I tried. 
 
 In 1884, while I was in England, Justin McCar- 
 thy gave me a letter of introduction to Mr. Howard, 
 
Forging Ahead 283 
 
 head of the Howard Agricultural Implement Com- 
 pany, Ltd., and a member of Parliament, who was 
 one of the larger manufacturers. They showed me 
 through the works and I was particularly interested 
 in what they called Plough No. 75 designed for 
 South Africa. We discussed costs freely. They 
 did much of their work by hand; I did most of my 
 work by machinery. I found that they got their 
 metal cheaper than I could get it but that my 
 machinery made our fabrication cheaper and that 
 my total cost was less than theirs. This I proved 
 years later when after the Boer War the English 
 Government opened bids for 20,000 of the No. 75 
 ploughs for South Africa. I won the contract at a 
 lower price than they could be furnished by the 
 English makers, and yet made a fair profit. 
 
 In 1873 during the home depression I pushed my 
 export business and sold very extensively in South 
 Africa, in Cuba, in Mexico, in Brazil, and in the 
 Argentine. We have also sold since then in Russia 
 and to some extent in Bulgaria, in Serbia, in Greece, 
 and in Turkey. In fact, over the years our ma- 
 chinery has gone into nearly every arable part of the 
 globe. Most of it has gone with our name on it, 
 but wherever a local house or a commission mer- 
 chant preferred to have the stencil or the name- 
 plate omitted, we have omitted it without question. 
 Naturally we like to have the advertisement of our 
 name, but a buyer who is thoroughly satisfied will 
 go to some trouble to ferret out the maker of what 
 
284 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 he has found to be a good article and we have re- 
 ceived about as many re-orders from the sections 
 where our goods were sold unmarked as from the 
 sections where they were sold marked. I have 
 always held that if you do your work to the very 
 best of your knowledge and skill your product will 
 have distinction whether or not your name is on it, 
 and people will search you out to get more of the 
 same. Of course we never^made any distinction 
 in quality between marked and unmarked products. 
 When our work has been anonymous it has been 
 through the desire of the purchaser and not through 
 any desire on our part to put out less than the best. 
 The Russian trade is interesting. They are most 
 extraordinary people and any one selling to a Rus- 
 sian must use meticulous care as to specifications. 
 The first steam boiler that we sent there was re- 
 jected. I could not understand why, excepting 
 that they claimed it was not according to specifica- 
 tions. I found that we had varied the specifia- 
 tions; we had put in one more square foot of heating 
 surface than had been called for! To the Russian 
 mind it made no difference whether the heating 
 surface was one foot over or ten feet under. They 
 had ordered an exact article and that they had to 
 have. They were not concerned with operation or 
 utility or anything of the sort. They were im- 
 mersed in specifications. There is nothing quite 
 so dear to the heart of a Russian as a long and in- 
 tricate discussion over something that is of no con- 
 
Forging Ahead 285 
 
 sequence. In this respect they mentally belong to 
 the Middle Ages. They love progress as they love 
 the devil. We sent a shipment of ploughs to 
 Russia in 1878. After waiting many months I 
 wrote to discover what service they were giving, 
 and some months later had a letter informing me 
 that the ploughs had reached their destination 
 ahead of the soldiers that had been detailed to 
 guard them and the peasants, fearing that the 
 ploughs were going to make less work, had held 
 something in the nature of a pogrom and destroyed 
 the whole shipment. They were paid for by the 
 purchaser, however, as was also the boiler which 
 had the extra foot of heating surface. 
 
 I have found the Russian peasant and the Rus- 
 sian workman to be pleasant, childlike fellows, but 
 with very little of what we should call common 
 sense and a most unusual capacity for believing 
 anything that is patently untrue. I am not in the 
 least surprised that they have permitted themselves 
 to become the tools of the Bolsheviki. The Soviet 
 form of government must be immensely appealing 
 for it gives an infinite opportunity for talk and, as 
 far as the peasants and workers are concerned, 
 Communism cannot mean anything, for I never 
 discovered any ambition on their part to own other 
 than the most absolute and primitive necessities of 
 life. The chapter on American trade with Russia 
 will have to remain suspended until the mass of the 
 Russians find Communism less amusing. They 
 
286 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 will enjoy Communism as long as it is a novelty — 
 as long as they can talk. When it ceases to be a 
 novelty; when they discover, as they are now dis- 
 covering, that a diet of words is not sustaining, and 
 that they have been imposed upon, then these 
 half -blind hordes will run amuck as they did at the 
 time of the Revolution. When they have quieted 
 down, the Communists will have ceased to exist. 
 I fear that the next Russian revolution will be very 
 terrible and bloody. In the meantime there is 
 little possibility of trade with Russia. 
 
 Mexico has always bought rather liberally from 
 us and we began there in the early seventies mainly 
 through the house of Braniff & Company, the senior 
 member of which firm built the railroad from 
 Mexico City to Vera Cruz and was a personal 
 friend of President Diaz. I never travelled through 
 Mexico exclusively on business — in fact, I have 
 seldom travelled anywhere outside of the United 
 States solely on business. My travels have been 
 largely in the public service, although on these 
 trips I have naturally been entertained by our 
 agents or merchants. And I have kept my busi- 
 ness eye open. I made rather an extensive trip 
 through Mexico with the American Public Health 
 Association, of which body I was one of the found- 
 ers. This was in the time of President Diaz and 
 he was particularly nice to us, entertaining us in 
 his country palace as well as in the city. 
 
 He reminded me, in spite of the fact that he was 
 
Forging Ahead 287 
 
 two thirds Indian, a good deal of Colonel Roose- 
 velt. He was impulsive, had a rugged determina- 
 tion, and a very wide general knowledge, not only 
 of everything that went on in Mexico, but in the 
 world. His English, however, was very weak and 
 he disliked speaking in other than Spanish. He 
 was an autocrat. There is no doubt about that. 
 For instance, in Guanajuato I noticed a crowd 
 around the State House and I asked a Mexican 
 friend what it was all about. He said he did not 
 know but he would investigate. In a little while 
 he came back laughing, and said: 
 
 "The rurales have surrounded the State House 
 under instructions not to let any of the delegates 
 out until they vote for the man whom President 
 Diaz had suggested as Governor of the province." 
 
 But they were scrupulous only as to the forms of 
 observing the methods of democracy ! 
 
 Our Public Health Association found much to 
 admire, but criticized some unsanitary features in 
 Mexico City. "When we returned from our trip 
 to Vera Cruz our attention was called to the fact 
 that by order of President Diaz these unsanitary 
 houses had been burned down. 
 
 A general proudly told me that in the interests of 
 sanitation he had just burned down a great number 
 of houses. He explained to me what an improve- 
 ment it was to be rid of such a filthy quarter. 
 
 "But," I asked, "what did the people say who 
 were living in those houses?" 
 
288 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 " What did they say ? " he mused. " Why, what 
 do they say when it rains?" 
 
 I went out to the hacienda of Oscar Braniff, the 
 junior member of the firm. He had a magnificent 
 place extending over many miles. One of his over- 
 seers came in and reported: 
 
 "I have just made a fine haul for you, Senor 
 Braniff. I have taken a lot of cattle, horses, and 
 pigs from a portion of the hacienda about twenty 
 miles away." 
 
 I did not quite understand this method of gaining 
 livestock and began to ask questions. It came out 
 that this portion of the hacienda was on the Braniff 
 property which fact they had just discovered al- 
 though people had been living there for generations 
 farming the land and raising cattle and horses. 
 The overseer had simply gone down and driven 
 the occupants away. It did seem a high-handed 
 proceeding and I asked Senor Braniff what would 
 become of the squatters. 
 
 "Oh," he answered carelessly, "they will proba- 
 bly wander off and join some roving band. ' ' To his 
 credit I may say he admitted that this system was 
 all wrong and should be corrected. 
 
 Diaz's rule was firm. Mexico was an orderly 
 community. He told me a young girl might then 
 have safely travelled alone over the entire city. 
 He did an enormous amount for the country. The 
 best penitentiary I ever saw was in Mexico. I 
 visited it with Mrs. Lopez, the wife of the Secretary 
 
Forging Ahead 289 
 
 of State. The institution was immaculately clean, 
 the floors were all cement, and the convicts were 
 dressed in clean, white clothing. They had work of 
 various kinds, and in the evening attended school. 
 The superintendent told me that he frequently let 
 them out on honour to attend a funeral or marriage 
 of a relative, and that invariably they returned on 
 the date promised. Mexico was well-managed, but 
 the masses had no opportunity whatsoever for pro- 
 motion and incidents like that on the Braniff 
 hacienda were far too common. They drove people 
 out ruthlessly and they did not seem to care how 
 many bandits rose up for, of course, these people 
 were bound to be embittered and to turn bandit. 
 
 A Mexican becomes a bandit and then stops 
 being one with somewhat less reflection than an 
 American worker takes or leaves a job. It is sim- 
 ply among the occupations of the country and 
 seems singularly unconnected with dishonesty. I 
 have never found the Mexican to be especially dis- 
 honest — that is, to violate his pledge. He seems 
 to have a very high regard for a certain kind of 
 honour. But he is technical. You may with per- 
 fect safety hand him a banknote and ask him to 
 have it changed for you. He will bring back that 
 money to you at the risk of his life but, having 
 safely delivered the money, he might not hesitate 
 to shoot you a few hours later and take the money 
 away from you. That, apparently, is a different 
 transaction ! 
 
290 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 They are backward and they are more idle than 
 it seems possible for a human being to be. I sent 
 some American workers down with a shipment of 
 machinery. They hired Mexican assistants and 
 paid them 13 cents gold (about 25 cents Mexican), 
 which they were used to receiving, but feeling that 
 this was not enough they advanced to 25 cents gold, 
 which was about 50 cents Mexican. Our people 
 thought that this was only decent but they quickly 
 found that they could not get more than three days' 
 work a week out of any man, for three days gave 
 the income that they had been accustomed to earn 
 in six. We had to reduce the wages in order to 
 get the work done. The exceptionally thrifty 
 Mexican may wish to keep a month ahead, but the 
 average Mexican of the lower class usually regards 
 three days ahead as quite sufficient provision for 
 his daily necessities. But they are not stupid. 
 Our people find them clever in putting together 
 machinery and they seem to hold on to every 
 scrap of knowledge that they gain. In fact, if 
 you get a Mexican interested in the study of 
 anything he will go on most industriously. They 
 simply do not, however, have needs that require 
 much money and not having the needs they will not 
 work for the money. Perhaps, after all, they are 
 not as foolish as they seem to be. They simply 
 have a different viewpoint and we are all entitled 
 to our viewpoints. 
 
 Cuba also has been an excellent customer al- 
 
Forging Ahead 291 
 
 though not originally receptive to modern ideas. I 
 canvassed Cuba in person many years ago taking 
 our agent, who also acted as interpreter, with me. I 
 found many farms being ploughed with bits of iron 
 fastened to forked sticks and the methods of culti- 
 vation generally had not advanced much over 
 those of ancient Egypt. I tried to demonstrate to 
 one of these native farmers the advantage of our 
 improved plough over his forked stick but he said 
 that his father and grandfather had used what he 
 was using and he would not insult their memory 
 by making a change. However, there is a very 
 considerable market in Cuba and it is constantly 
 increasing. 
 
 South America proper is a field that most Amer- 
 icans have talked a great deal about and have 
 neglected. We have always had a good business 
 through South America and have many firm 
 friends, particularly in Brazil and in Buenos 
 Aires. I have personally nothing to complain of, 
 but generally speaking I find that Americans are 
 not sufficiently careful of the sensibilities of the 
 South Americans. They resent bitterly our pa- 
 tronizing attitude and are very sensitive to the 
 loud and boisterous manner of many of our travel- 
 lers. Most of them do not like our assertion of the 
 Monroe Doctrine — they think it meddlesome. In 
 short, they do not like us, and in addition they envy 
 us, which makes the situation all the worse. 
 
 And we have done almost nothing to change this 
 
292 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 attitude. We have gone rather on the basis that 
 South America is a vague continent in a way appur- 
 tenant to the only real thing in the Western Hemis- 
 phere — that is, the United States — and that it is 
 inhabited by aborigines whose friendship and whose 
 trade are not specially worth cultivating. Every 
 North American business man visiting Buenos Aires 
 and Rio Janeiro for the first time gets a distinct 
 shock; he is really surprised to learn that these cities 
 are as fine as any in the world. The same is more 
 or less true of most of the leading cities of the South- 
 ern continent. They are a very different people 
 from ourselves. The races are mixed, they are 
 more European than we are, and have rather a 
 European civilization super-imposed upon native 
 customs than a really distinct civilization such as 
 we have. The South Americans are quite as igno- 
 rant of us as we are of them. They have but a 
 hazy idea of our power and of our size, and think 
 of us merely as bumptious. During the last twenty 
 years with the Pan-American meetings and the 
 establishing of branch banks and closer commercial 
 relations, the leading business men below the equa- 
 tor have learned to know more of us and we have 
 learned to know more of them, and I think we are 
 on the way to a much better relation. But it is 
 one that it should not be necessary to urge, for 
 there is great profit as well as much delightful inter- 
 course to be had in a closer union. Generally speak- 
 ing, South America does not require anything very 
 
Forging Ahead 293 
 
 different from what our home trade requires and 
 they learn very easily and very quickly to use our 
 machinery. 
 
 Much of our machinery is sent "knocked down" 
 on account of transportation difficulties. South 
 America is backward on railways. In many cases 
 where the goods have to be taken over the moun- 
 tains, the limit of weight for each package is 125 
 pounds and since they are carried on mule back 
 we sometimes have had to send a boiler in such 
 small parts that they could not even be riveted, 
 yet the native labour satisfactorily put the boiler 
 and engine together. The question of packing is 
 one which many of our people strangely enough 
 regard as of little importance. It is very impor- 
 tant indeed to pack according to the conditions of 
 transportation and to pack so securely that no 
 harm can come to the goods en route. Yet many 
 excellent American articles have gotten a bad 
 name simply because they were so carelessly packed 
 that they arrived in a damaged condition. 
 
 In Japan we have never done any large amount 
 of business. The business done there has been 
 satisfactory, however, as far as payments are con- 
 cerned. In 1876 I sold a rice-thresher there; in 
 the next year I wrote asking whether it had given 
 satisfaction and they replied that it had given such 
 entire satisfaction that they had adopted the de- 
 sign and were making it themselves! The Japan- 
 ese have a way of shopping that is not unlike that 
 
294 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 of our dressmakers. They shop for designs to 
 copy rather than for articles to use. 
 
 There is nothing particularly dramatic in the 
 establishment of our foreign business. It has been 
 a growth through the years. We have tried to 
 make the best possible article and sell it fairly, 
 treating the foreigner quite as though he were living 
 in the next town instead of some thousands of miles 
 away. He has usually liked our work and when he 
 wanted something of a special nature, has sent 
 on a sample for us to work from. We have made 
 many orders from samples. The main thing is to 
 sell the people what they want — but that is largely 
 the secret also of domestic business! 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 WHAT I HAVE LEARNED 
 
 SOMETIMES I am asked whether to-day we 
 have as many great men as we had in times 
 past and whether the comparatively few 
 national figures to-day — men such as Judge Gary 
 and Charles M. Schwab — are as big as some of 
 the older figures. We have not as many nation- 
 ally known men as we used to have, but I can 
 unhesitatingly say that the reason for this is that 
 the general average of men both in business and in 
 politics is to-day immeasurably higher than ever 
 it was. Some of the men in the past would have 
 stood out under any circumstances, but it is to be 
 remembered that fifty years ago this was not nearly 
 so big a country and a man did not then need such 
 great ability as he does to-day in order to be not- 
 able. 
 
 It is hard to make a comparison because of the 
 change in conditions. For instance, Abraham 
 Lincoln was a man who would have been remark- 
 able anywhere, yet he was a child of the times and I 
 greatly doubt if to-day he would ever have had 
 the opportunity to become President and to become 
 so distinguished. Of course, that is mere specula- 
 
 295 
 
296 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 tion. But I do know that not a few of the politi- 
 cians of former times could not exist in public life 
 to-day. For instance, take Daniel Webster. I 
 met him first through W. W. Corcoran. 
 
 Corcoran, who founded the banking firm of 
 Corcoran & Riggs, which afterwards became the 
 Riggs National Bank of Washington, was one of 
 the large figures of the Capital. At that time the 
 difference between the banker or business man and 
 the politician was very wide indeed. A member of 
 Congress was usually a lawyer and he looked upon 
 business as something rather lowly which was not 
 at all necessary to understand and which he rarely 
 did understand. They have not quite recovered 
 from that habit of mind! When a boy of about 
 twelve I met Mr. Corcoran rather oddly. Stroll- 
 ing along a street in Georgetown (now part of 
 Washington) I heard someone playing Cujus Ani- 
 mam from the Stabat Mater — rendering it magnifi- 
 cently. I stopped for a while and then, the door 
 being open, walked in and sat down. The player 
 was a girl of sixteen or seventeen. (Walking into 
 peoples' houses unannounced was not so unusual 
 in those days and especially in the South. I have 
 already told how once in a Southern mansion, 
 arriving late at the home of people whom I knew 
 only by correspondence, but who had invited me 
 to visit them, I was told by the major-domo simply 
 to walk in, hunt out an empty room, and occupy it). 
 ^ The girl was not in the least surprised. She 
 
What I Have Learned 297 
 
 asked me if I liked her playing, and I said I did, and 
 she gave me the Stabat Mater selection again. The 
 room was hung with paintings. We got to talking 
 about them. She told me they were copies of the 
 originals hanging in the home of Mr. Corcoran, who 
 long afterward founded the Corcoran Gallery. 
 I wanted to see the originals. She said her father 
 was cashier in the Corcoran Bank and she could go 
 to the Corcoran home any time she liked. She took 
 me to see the paintings and then took me down to 
 introduce me to her father at the bank because I 
 also wanted to meet Mr. Corcoran. Corcoran was 
 one of those men who turned anything he touched 
 into gold. He had made a great deal by buying 
 land in Washington at a very low price. He was a 
 keen, shrewd banker and wielded a large if not 
 always evident power. He was one of the big men 
 of the country. We found her father, Mr. Hyde, 
 in animated conversation with Mr. Corcoran. 
 Daniel Webster had just been in to borrow money 
 and Hyde had given it to him. 
 
 "Senator Webster asked me," said Mr. Hyde, 
 "to discount his note for $100. I told him we did 
 not usually lend on a note unless endorsed, so he 
 went out and brought in a note for $200 endorsed 
 by another Senator, who had endorsed with the 
 understanding that they should divide the pro- 
 ceeds. I gave him the money." 
 
 Mr. Corcoran remarked that the only value of 
 the note was as a curiosity — it would never be paid. 
 
298 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 I afterward heard that the note never was paid 
 and that the Riggs Bank still has it. Corcoran 
 laughed about it but Mr. Hyde was worried. It 
 seemed strange to me that the joint note of two 
 United States Senators would not be worth $200, 
 but United States Senators in those days could not 
 be expected to bother themselves about little 
 things like paying bills. The eloquence of Con- 
 gress has decreased but its ordinary common sense 
 and commercial integrity have increased. It is 
 hardly likely you would find two Senators now fail- 
 ing to pay a joint note of $200. 
 
 Daniel Webster was very careless about all of 
 his personal affairs. He was said to be scru- 
 pulous about paying his gambling debts but he did 
 not bother with little bills. He often thought it 
 quite enough to give a creditor a copy of his signa- 
 ture without bothering to honour the promise to 
 pay ahead of it. 
 
 He was such a powerful, leonine sort of a man 
 and his voice was so glorious and magnificent that 
 I do not believe any one in the country would have 
 ventured to mention such a trivial thing as money 
 in his presence. Few more impressive men have 
 ever lived — in fact, he had been called a living lie 
 because, as was said, "no man could possibly be as 
 great, as Webster looked." 
 
 He was exceedingly clever. Everyone knows 
 about his gift of oratory but in addition to that he 
 was versatile. His mind moved like lightning. A 
 
What I Have Learned 299 
 
 lawyer friend told me of a case he tried against 
 Webster in a New Jersey court. In those days the 
 speeches to the jury more frequently decided the 
 case than now. Webster came into court to ad- 
 dress the jury quite a little the worse for wear. 
 He had been profoundly investigating the effects 
 of wine, which was a habit that not a few of our 
 leading figures indulged in. His voice was good, 
 his manner was good, but as he started to address 
 the jury he unfortunately forgot which side he was 
 on and with surpassing eloquence presented my 
 friend's side instead of his own. His associates 
 when they found what was going on kept pulling 
 at his coat tails and making signals, but to no end. 
 Once launched into an address nothing could inter- 
 rupt Webster. 
 
 As he closed and started to sit down one of his 
 colleagues gave him a particularly vicious poke and 
 then all at once Webster remembered what he had 
 done and without so much as cracking a smile he 
 turned to the jury and said: 
 
 "Now, gentlemen, I think I have said and I 
 think you will admit that I have well said, every- 
 thing that can be said for the other side of this case. 
 Now I shall proceed to show you that there is 
 nothing in it." 
 
 And then he demolished the case he had built up. 
 Webster was a genius, there is no doubt about that, 
 but he would not fit into present-day conditions. 
 And then there was Henry Clay who was of 
 
300 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 the same style. I met Clay several times and 
 heard him speak. On one occasion my father 
 persuaded a Democratic friend to go with him to a 
 barbecue to hear Clay speak. It was customary 
 then to roast an ox whole at a political gathering. 
 He protested that he would not go to hear a damned 
 old Whig speak, but at last was prevailed upon. 
 Father mentioned to Clay that he had brought 
 a friend along after some persuasion, and wanted 
 to introduce him. Clay glanced at the man now 
 and then during the course of his address, and by 
 the time he was through had him waving his hat 
 and cheering. When Clay came down from the 
 platform he shook the hand of my father's com- 
 panion who had been completely mesmerized, and 
 who told him he was going to vote for him. Clay 
 had a wonderfully magnetic personality. I once 
 walked eighteen miles to Washington to hear 
 him. I have always been fond of cross-country 
 walking, and that time I took a straight course 
 through the fields. I recollect passing a house 
 where they had several fierce dogs who rushed out 
 as though to tear me to pieces. A woman called 
 for me to run. I called back that I was not afraid 
 of dogs, and as they came up they commenced to 
 wag their tails and jump up to my shoulder. I 
 never was afraid of dogs, and they always seem to 
 be fond of me. I never saw a dog in my life that 
 would molest me if he came close. 
 
 But to get back to business. In 1889 I decided 
 
What I Have Learned 301 
 
 to become a limited partnership under the name 
 of A. B. Farquhar Co., Limited. We had been 
 known before as "The Pennsylvania Agricultural 
 Works," with my name as proprietor. The object 
 of incorporation was to facilitate the distribution 
 of my estate and also to give my sons, whom I ex- 
 pected to succeed me, some present interest in the 
 business; and the advantage of the limited part- 
 nership over the regular corporation was that I 
 was not obliged to have agents in all the different 
 states in order to sue or be sued. I did not, of 
 course, wish to relieve myself personally of any re- 
 sponsibility. I conservatively capitalized at but 
 $500,000, although the real estate and property 
 were worth considerably more, aside from all good- 
 will, patents, and the like. I made no change in 
 the manner of conducting the business. 
 
 My daily routine was from seven in the morning 
 until six in the evening, or later if any emergency 
 required it. I was always on hand when the whis- 
 tle blew, and began the day with a walk through 
 the factory and a chat with the foremen and the 
 men also. Until the management was turned over 
 to my son some years ago I always kept in touch 
 with everything that was going on, both in the 
 factory and outside. Stenographers came in 
 vogue about then and I was able to answer most 
 of the letters that were received. We had no regu- 
 lar travelling men and did our business by circulars, 
 advertising, and at my office desk. Most of the 
 
302 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 sales were made by correspondence, but many cus- 
 tomers came to the factory. We also had agents, 
 who sold the goods and assumed responsibility for 
 the payment of customers' notes. 
 
 Trade was very dull from 1893 to 1897 and as I 
 have before said we relied largely upon our export 
 business to keep going. We took advantage of 
 the dull years, as always, to improve our plant 
 and machinery and to devise methods for getting 
 out work at a lower cost. It has been my policy 
 to take advantage of an extremely dull season to 
 make improvements, for then materials may be 
 bought at the bottom and also whatever outside 
 labour is required can be had at a low price. It 
 was my policy never to put up anything at the 
 height of a boom or enlarge during boom periods. 
 We have thus been able to keep the book value 
 of our buildings far below what they would ordin- 
 arily cost. I have supervised the erection of all 
 our factory buildings and the work has been 
 done largely by our own men. This has served 
 to keep our force intact and I think it is a good 
 thing to be able, even though the idea may be 
 old-fashioned, to change over men to new and 
 unusual work rather than discharge them. Also 
 it adds an indefinable something to men to work 
 in buildings they have themselves erected. We 
 have been able to do everything but the brick- 
 laying and my old co-worker, Henry Eisenhart, 
 was our main reliance. That man could do any- 
 
What I Have Learned 303 
 
 thing in the way of construction. He was one 
 of the most versatile men I have ever known. 
 
 The presidential election is always a disturbing 
 factor in business, but the depression of 1892, 
 which resulted from other causes, was made less 
 disturbing, because of the well-known conser- 
 vatism and ability of Grover Cleveland. The 
 country felt sure of a safe president no matter who 
 was elected. There were labour troubles inl892 — 
 especially the Homestead riot. 
 
 This riot never would have occurred had Mr. 
 Carnegie been at home. There were also switch- 
 men's strikes and a strike among the coal miners, 
 showing a growing restlessness. These labour 
 troubles were partly accountable for the depres- 
 sion in business of 1893. The troubles con- 
 tinued, but there was no financial panic until 1893, 
 and there would have been none then, had we had 
 the present Federal Reserve System. 
 
 In 1892 Governor Pattison appointed me a 
 commissioner to the Columbian Exposition in 
 Chicago and I was afterward made executive 
 commissioner with practically the entire charge 
 of Pennsylvania's participation in the Exposition. 
 I had previously spent two months in Europe in 
 the interest of the Exposition by appointment of 
 the Secretary of State. This absence in Chicago 
 was the first time I had ever been for any consid- 
 erable period away from my desk. My eldest 
 son, W. E. Farquhar, was superintendent and 
 
304 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 W. A. Maigne was head of the sales department, 
 and they managed affairs very well indeed although 
 I kept in touch with them daily by telephone, 
 telegraph, and mail. I did not believe in getting 
 very far away from business at any time. 
 
 On the first of May, 1893, the great Columbian 
 Exposition was formally opened to the public 
 by President Cleveland. I accompanied him to 
 the platform when he made the opening address, 
 which, by the way, was admirable in tone and 
 substance and was well received. It was made 
 without notes. He was the only president who 
 ever made an inaugural address without a note 
 in his hands. The Chicago Exposition was a 
 world event; there has never been anything to 
 equal it in beauty before or since. Burnham, the 
 great landscape architect, accomplished wonders. 
 What was formerly a barren plain, without shrub- 
 bery or trees, he made rich with verdure almost 
 overnight, moving large trees bodily and putting 
 them in place as though they had grown there. 
 The World's Fair was admirably managed by 
 Harlow N. Higinbotham and a council of admin- 
 istration, headed by Judge Massey, Chief Counsel 
 of the Pennsylvania Railroad. At a general 
 meeting of the Executive Commissioners of all 
 the states, I was elected president of the Execu- 
 tive Commissioners on the first ballot, which 
 office I held till the close of the Exposition. 
 
 Harlow Higinbotham was one of the men whom 
 
What I Have Learned 305 
 
 the country could well have afforded to know 
 better. He was the practical manager of the 
 whole Exposition and I think the secret of his 
 management there as well as his remarkable rise 
 in the Marshall Field store was an almost un- 
 canny ability to estimate the character of men. 
 He knew how to pick out men who were honest and 
 reliable and who would do their work. I have 
 always felt flattered that he believed in me. I 
 had frequent opportunity to judge this ability 
 to appraise character. Marshall Field had taken 
 him as a boy because once while driving out 
 through a country district and asking about cer- 
 tain customers, he was referred to young Harlow 
 Higinbotham, who was then ploughing a field, as 
 the one person in the neighbourhood who knew 
 all about everyone. That is why Mr. Field hired 
 him away from his father and that is why he so 
 quickly became the- credit manager of Marshall 
 Field & Co. and eventually a partner. 
 
 After talking five minutes with a man Mr. Hig- 
 inbotham, asking few questions and keeping the 
 conversation seemingly casual, would know exactly 
 how far he could trust that man — he would know 
 not only whether he was deserving of credit but 
 how much credit he ought to have. I remember 
 one quite embarrassing incident. An East Indian 
 came to the fair in charge of an exhibit. Mr. 
 Higinbotham met him and then flatly refused to 
 have anything further to do with him. He would 
 
306 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 not permit him to exhibit. I asked him why and 
 he simply said most decisively: 
 
 "He is no good, I know he is no good, and it 
 does not pay to trust a scoundrel. That man is 
 a scoundrel." 
 
 A very handsome woman — a princess, I believe — 
 was in the Indian party and she appealed to me. 
 We together went to Mr. Higinbotham and asked 
 what in the world we should do about the exhibit. 
 He was as a rock about the appointed commissioner 
 but he suggested to the princess that she take 
 charge. There was no other way out. She did 
 take charge. A little while later the man who 
 had been appointed and who was absolutely un- 
 known to Mr. Higinbotham — he knew nothing 
 about him when he turned him down — decamped 
 with all the jewels of the princess. 
 
 At another time in his office when I was present, 
 a man came in to tell him that his mortgage was 
 about to be foreclosed. He said his property was 
 worth three times as much as the mortgage but he 
 could not raise the ready money. That was dur- 
 ing the depression of 1893. Mr. Higinbotham 
 heard him out and dismissing him said: 
 
 "All right, I shall attend to that. Your mort- 
 gage will not be foreclosed." 
 
 "Do you know anything about that man?" 
 I asked him. 
 
 "No," he answered, "excepting that I know he 
 is telling the truth. He will pay if he can and I 
 
What I Have Learned 307 
 
 will tell the holder of that mortgage that I will 
 be personally responsible." 
 
 I learned afterward that Mr. Higinbotham had 
 saved the man from ruin, and that he did pay. I 
 sat with Mr. Higinbotham some years later on 
 the insurance investigation. A witness told a long 
 and circumstantial story which was apparently 
 accurate. The counsel for the committee turned 
 to Mr. Higinbotham and asked: 
 
 "Is that man telling the truth?" 
 
 "I know that he is not telling the truth," said 
 Mr. Higinbotham. 
 
 Then our counsel, Mr. Samuel Untermyer, 
 accused the witness of perjury. The witness 
 broke down and told an entirely different story. 
 
 During all of this time the country was having 
 labour trouble. A man by the name of Coxey 
 started a movement in Massillon, Ohio, for a 
 great parade of the unemployed from all over the 
 country to Washington. The intent was to in- 
 fluence Congress to do something or other, but 
 exactly what nobody, not even the paraders, knew. 
 Various detachments of what came to be known 
 as " Coxey 's Army" organized through the country. 
 Some of them were unemployed workmen but 
 most of them were men of anarchistic tendencies 
 or the professional tramps who thought the trip 
 would be good fun. The news of the army filled 
 the newspapers and it actually, after many vicis- 
 situdes, did reach Washington although in some- 
 
308 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 what battered condition. The Government, how- 
 ever, was ready and dispersed it without much 
 ceremony. The march did not accomplish any- 
 thing because there was nothing it could accom- 
 plish. It was a crazy idea but no crazier than the 
 Bolshevism of to-day. There has never been a 
 time when it has been impossible to organize 
 the malcontents. I am beginning to think we 
 should not be normal without them. 
 
 The labour troubles continued into 1894 when 
 there was a great strike at the Pullman Works 
 in Chicago of which I have already spoken. 
 
 There was a great deal of tariff discussion through 
 1894. The President favoured more liberal laws 
 on foreign trade than Congress was willing to 
 establish. The final outcome was the "Wilson- 
 Gorman" tariff, which President Cleveland termed 
 a tariff of "perfidy and dishonour," and would not 
 sign. It became a law without his signature. He 
 did not veto it because it was some improvement 
 on the previous law. 
 
 During 1894 attacks on large corporations or 
 trusts under the Sherman Law became popular, 
 and there were proceedings against the sugar 
 trust and the Standard Oil trust. Labour troubles 
 continued, the most important being the strike 
 of railway employees in Brooklyn, which was 
 marked by violence and which required calling 
 the militia to maintain order. 
 
 Among the men I knew during this period was 
 
What I Have Learned 309 
 
 Wu Ting-Fang, Chinese Minister to the United 
 States. We became good friends. I could write 
 a chapter about this remarkable man. We dis- 
 cussed religions during a long drive we took 
 together. He admitted that the Christian re- 
 ligion reached higher ideals than any other, but 
 said that the experiment of practising Christi- 
 anity had never been tried, and he thought that 
 Confucianism actually practised was better than 
 Christianity without a trial. He compared our 
 military preparations and battleships with the 
 Chinese idea of building an expensive wall be- 
 tween China and its enemies. Christians he 
 said, wanted to kill enemies while Confucius 
 counselled protection against them. He pro- 
 fessed to believe that if Christ made a tour through 
 China He would pronounce the Chinese as living 
 more in accordance with His teachings than the 
 America which professed to be following Him. 
 
 McKinley was elected in November, 1896, and 
 announced himself during an address before the 
 National Association of Manufacturers in New 
 York, as a gold-standard advocate. I heard this 
 address and congratulated him. The President 
 and I, by the way, became good friends. In a 
 talk I had with him in Washington he told me 
 that he admitted he had been a little extreme in 
 his tariff views, while he thought I had gone a 
 little too far the other way. He said we ought 
 to meet on a common ground, adding that he ex- 
 
310 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 pected to make an address shortly in Buffalo that 
 he thought would please me. He agreed with 
 Blaine as to the policy of reciprocity. This was 
 some time after the period about which we are 
 now writing— in other words, not long before his 
 assassination in Buffalo. McKinley was a very 
 lovable character, and was one of our best-loved 
 presidents. His devotion to his wife and his 
 kindly disposition made an appeal everywhere. 
 Early in 1898 the Maine arrived in the harbour 
 of Havana on a friendly mission, and shortly 
 afterward was destroyed — I have always supposed 
 by an internal explosion. There has never been 
 the slightest proof that the Spanish Government 
 or any Spanish official had anything to do with 
 destroying this vessel, and it is hardly credible 
 that Spain should do such an insane thing as to 
 provoke a war with the United States. I have al- 
 ready mentioned an interview which some sen- 
 ators had with President Cleveland with regard 
 to war with Spain which Congress was inclined 
 to declare, and am glad to say that in a talk with 
 President McKinley he agreed with Cleveland. 
 But after the destruction of the Maine nothing 
 could stop a war. The declaration of war against 
 Spain of course seriously disturbed business for a 
 time; indeed from the beginning of 1893 to the 
 close of 1898 business was not in a very satisfac- 
 tory condition. Our country gained great credit 
 by the terms of the treaty giving Cuba complete 
 
What I Have Learned 311 
 
 independence, with the wise provision of the Piatt 
 Amendment. Senator Orville Piatt, by the way, 
 was one of our ablest senators, and well known to 
 me. 
 
 I have had many dealings with what might 
 be called professional politicians. Some of them 
 have had principles and have been in politics 
 because they liked public life. Some men have 
 a perfectly legitimate liking for political office 
 and they usually make the best public servants. 
 Some men go into public life for what they can 
 get out of it in a money way, but I have a feeling, 
 drawn from experience, that it is never the money 
 that most counts. I have been with politicians 
 who had principles and with some who had none. 
 But I have found any and every kind of politician 
 as a rule more effective than the reformers. For 
 the politicians usually manifest common sense 
 in which the reformers are often lacking. 
 
 In June, 1900, William McKinley was renomi- 
 nated for President for a second term and Theodore 
 Roosevelt for Vice-President. The politicians of 
 New York were very uneasy over Roosevelt's 
 growing popularity and wished to bury him in 
 the vice-presidency. I was in Philadelphia dur->/ 
 ing the Convention. Mr. Roosevelt did not want 
 the nomination. He protested against it, but the 
 enthusiasm for him was even greater than that 
 for the presidential candidate, and he was simply 
 borne away by the tide and forced to accept. 
 
312 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 This was my first acquaintance with the great 
 personality of Theodore Roosevelt, and my ad- 
 miration for him grew every time I saw him. 
 McKinley was elected by a great majority, a 
 large portion of which was due to the popularity 
 of the vice-presidential candidate. 
 
 I had frequent contacts with this most ad- 
 mirable American. Through Jacob Riis I knew a 
 great deal about him when he was Police Com- 
 missioner of New York, for I have always been a 
 student of criminology and penology — more partic- 
 ularly of penology. 
 
 In May, 1902, we had the great anthracite coal 
 strike in Pennsylvania, with great suffering and 
 disturbance of business interests generally. This 
 strike was settled by President Roosevelt. He 
 called a meeting of the mine owners and told 
 them that they must go back and mine coal. 
 President Baer of the Reading Coal Co. gave 
 me a graphic account of this interview. He 
 said: 
 
 "I took one look at Roosevelt's face and made 
 up my mind we should have to go back and mine 
 coal." 
 
 They did, making a satisfactory arrangement 
 with the workmen who had already been inter- 
 viewed by the President's agent, and were in the 
 mood for compromise. 
 
 In June, 1914, 1 went to Europe in a semi-public 
 capacity as a member of the Southern Com- 
 
What I Have Learned 313 
 
 mercial Congress, under instructions of the Sec- 
 retary of State, to look into conditions of munici- 
 palities with a view to adopting some of their best 
 practices here. I landed at Hamburg in July, 
 travelled through Germany two or three weeks 
 before the outbreak of the Great War and talked 
 with bankers and business men. I did not meet 
 a single one who had a word to say about war or 
 had any idea, apparently, that the world's great- 
 est catastrophe was so near at hand. A knowledge 
 of the coming war and the plans for it seem to 
 have been entirely confined to the Kaiser and his 
 military clique. 
 
 I went on out to Bulgaria and reaching there 
 presented my credentials at the Palace and was 
 entertained by the King and Queen. Queen 
 Eleonora was a beautiful character. I went with 
 her to her charitable institutions and talked with 
 her over her plans for the progress of their coun- 
 try. The King was very much interested in 
 forestry. We had a congenial subject there. His 
 botanical garden was exceedingly attractive. They 
 spoke English with scarcely an accent; indeed the 
 King and Queen spoke several languages. My 
 interpreter who went with me spoke thirteen 
 languages. I told him that any one who could 
 speak Bulgarian should naturally be able to talk 
 in any other language. 
 
 Part of the object which took me to Europe 
 was to look into our interests there. We had 
 
314 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 business in Bulgaria and had sold quite a number 
 of engines, boilers, and threshers, and I was natu- 
 rally interested in looking into conditions. The 
 declaration of war with Serbia alarmed me, and 
 I began to make arrangements to return. Be- 
 fore I left Bulgaria, however, war had been de- 
 clared by Russia, France, and England. I found 
 the railroad had stopped running, but I determined 
 to return if possible by way of Constantinople. 
 When I finally reached that city, I found every- 
 thing in wild commotion, banks closed, hotels 
 requiring bills to be paid in advance, no letters 
 of credit honoured, and orders given that no gold 
 should be paid out. Our ambassador, Mr. Mor- 
 genthau, was very gracious to me. He enter- 
 tained me at his house up the Bosphorus and 
 in his residence in Constantinople, a very credi- 
 table place, by the way — I believe one of the only 
 two creditable embassies owned by our Govern- 
 ment — the other being at Yokohama. The Dar- 
 danelles, however, were mined and transportation 
 was dead. A few freight vessels were permitted 
 to pass through at their own risk. I succeeded 
 in getting away on a freight vessel, expecting to 
 land at Athens and cross over to Brindisi in Italy, 
 but found they were mobilizing in Athens and 
 transportation had stopped. Our freight vessel 
 continued on its course and finally landed me at 
 Syracuse, and from there I went by rail to Rome. 
 I finally got passage on the San Guglielmo, an 
 
What I Have Learned 315 
 
 emigrant ship from Naples, with a number of 
 other Americans. I could make quite a story of 
 my experiences. I reached home safely the last 
 of August and found the factory running on part 
 time, the business conditions reminding me of 
 the conditions during '73. My trunk was lost 
 in Europe but it came through finally in February, 
 1921, seven years afterward, with nothing dis- 
 turbed. 
 
 And now, in conclusion, what does it all mean? 
 What have these years taught me? Nothing of 
 a startling nature — the incidents fade — but these 
 principles remain: 
 
 (1) That it is, as a rule, safe to trust human 
 beings. Comparatively few are unfair, if you 
 are fair yourself. 
 
 (2) That troubles and apparent difficulties are 
 but stepping-stones to progress — the most practi- 
 cal way of learning — and, as Greeley said, "The 
 way to resume is to resume." 
 
 (3) That there is nothing that will take the 
 place of work, either to gain success or to gain 
 happiness or to gain both — and I think it is possi- 
 ible to gain both if, in the striving and working for 
 success, the dollar is not put above the man. 
 
 (4) That one can and must keep faith with 
 oneself. 
 
 (5) That God is not mocked. You cannot break 
 his laws without suffering. 
 
316 The First Million the Hardest 
 
 (6) That one's only dangerous enemy is oneself. 
 In the ultimate no one can hurt you but your- 
 self. 
 
 (7) That friends are among the greatest assets — 
 and the way to get friends is to be a friend. 
 
 (8) That one should never seek anything for 
 which one does not give value. This avoids the 
 disposition to speculate — which is one of the 
 greatest dangers that beset the business man. 
 
 Following these rules, the world grows in interest 
 and life is happier with gathering years. 
 
 THE END 
 
INDEX 
 
INDEX 
 
 Africa, South, trade with, 281 
 Altgeld, Governor, attitude to- 
 ward Chicago railroad strike, 
 271 
 Arthur, President, acquaintance 
 
 with, 219 
 Asquith, acquaintance with, 228 
 Astor, William B., interviewed 
 in search of advice, 2, 5, 12 
 
 Baer, George F., encounter with 
 Roosevelt, 312 
 
 Baker, Secretary, 224 
 
 Baldwin, Mrs. A. T., hospitality 
 of, 119 
 
 Beecher, Henry Ward, 213 
 
 Bell, Alexander Graham, dis- 
 cussion with, on the telephone, 
 216 
 
 Belmont, August, aids Cleveland 
 in averting depletion of gold 
 reserve, 268 
 
 Bennett, James Gordon, inter- 
 viewed in search of advice, 2, 
 13 
 
 Bentley, Richard, 28 
 
 Big Business, the rise of, 253 
 
 Biggs, Isaac, 26 
 
 Black, Judge Jeremiah S., ac- 
 quaintance with, 206 
 
 Blaine, James G., brilliancy of, 
 197; acquaintance with, 206; 
 remarkable memory, 211; ora- 
 tion on occasion of funeral of 
 President Garfield, 218 
 
 Blood, Capt. H. B., at Gettys- 
 burg, 91 
 
 Bonus, soldiers', and patriotism, 
 246 
 
 Borum, Captain, dinner with, 
 109 
 
 Braniff, Oscar, 288 
 
 Brassey, Lord, acquaintance 
 
 with, 228 
 Brown, Gov. Joe, en route to 
 
 Washington under arrest, 117 
 Brown, John, failure of "raid" 
 
 due to ignorance of the Negro, 
 
 63 
 Brown, J. Stanley, Secretary to 
 
 President Garfield, 219 
 Buchanan, Admiral, 72 
 Buchanan, W. I., 35, 228 
 Bulgaria, King of, talks with, 
 
 313 
 Bull Run, battle of, 69 
 Burnham, Daniel H., landscape 
 
 architect of Columbian Ex- 
 position, 304 
 
 Carnegie, Andrew, attitude to- 
 ward business assistants, 19; 
 employment of experimental 
 experts revolutionizes indus- 
 try, 123; involuntary banker 
 during panic, 128; weathers 
 the panic of 1873, 165; duties 
 in office of Secretary of War, 
 166; a man of ideals, 169; 
 attitude toward protective 
 tariff, 173; at funeral of Mon- 
 cure Conway, 215; increased 
 business in dull times, 234; 
 the Homestead riot, 303 
 
 "Carpet baggers" injury wrought 
 by, 111 
 
 Carroll, Marcus, 46 
 
 Chamber of Commerce of the 
 United States, organization of, 
 231 
 
 Chambers, Judge, 207 
 
 Civil War, outbreak of, 54, 66; 
 a war of gentlemen, 69, 70 
 
 Clay, Henry, meeting with, 300 
 
 319 
 
320 
 
 Index 
 
 Cleveland, Grover, able adminis- 
 tration of, 237, 266; keeping 
 faith with the people, 267; 
 averts depletion of gold in 
 Treasury, 268; refuses to de- 
 clare war with Spain over 
 Cuba, 270; sends troops to 
 Chicago during railroad strike, 
 271; sends out tariff reform 
 message, 273; at opening of 
 Chicago World's Fair, 304 
 
 Cochran, Thomas E., member 
 Committee of Public Safety, 
 74 
 
 Coe, George S., interviewed in 
 search of advice, 6, 9 
 
 Collective bargaining, fallacy of, 
 261 
 
 Columbian Exposition, executive 
 commissioner to, 303; opening 
 of, 304 
 
 Cooke, Jay, financing the Civil 
 War, 103; failure and result- 
 ant panic, 145, 149 
 
 Constantinople, conditions in, on 
 outbreak of the war, 314 
 
 Conway, Mildred, 214 
 
 Conway, Moncure, 213 
 
 Corcoran, William W., begin- 
 ning of acquaintance with, 296 
 
 "Coxey's Army," move on Wash- 
 ington, 307 
 
 Cruse, Ben, activities of, 114 
 
 Cuba, trade with, 291 
 
 Curtin, Governor, audience with, 
 73 
 
 Daniels, Secretary, 224 
 
 Debs, Eugene, incites Chicago 
 railroad strike, 271 
 
 Diaz, Gen. Porfirio, a personal 
 friend, 286 
 
 Dingee, W. W., apprenticeship 
 with, 39; a partner in bus- 
 iness, 57; acquaintance with, 
 133 
 
 Dodge, General, tribute to Car- 
 negie, 167 
 
 Douglas, Stephen, A., debates 
 with Lincoln, 63 
 
 Douglass, Frederick, a slave in 
 Maryland, 52 
 
 Early, General, entrance into 
 
 York, 78 
 Eisenhart, Henry, 260, 302 
 Eleonora, Queen of Bulgaria, 
 
 313 
 Elgar, John, 39, 203 
 Everett, Edward, at Gettysburg 
 
 Dedication, 87, 89 
 Export trade in relation to 
 
 domestic, 277 
 
 Farquhar, Allan, 227 
 
 Farquhar, Edward, 227 
 
 Farquhar, Ellen, 227 
 
 Farquhar, Francis, birth, 140; 
 graduation, 142; enters the 
 law, 143; joins his father in 
 business at York, 144 
 
 Farquhar, Henry, 227, 240 
 
 Farquhar, Percival, birth, 140, 
 graduation, 142; admitted to 
 bar, and elected to Legisla- 
 ture, 143; promoter of large 
 enterprises, 228 
 
 Farquhar, William E., birth, 
 140; removes from York, 143; 
 contractor in New York, 228; 
 in charge of the business, 303 
 
 Farquhar, William Henry, 21, 29 
 
 Field, Marshall, capability, 174, 
 175; a judge of character, 305 
 
 Fish, Hamilton, 10 
 
 Ford, Henry, recommended to 
 head emergency shipbuilding, 
 225 
 
 Franklin, P. A. S., 126 
 
 Garfield, President, brilliancy of, 
 197; attachment to, 217; death 
 at Elberon, N. J., 219 
 
 George, Lloyd, meeting with, 
 228, 230 
 
 Gettysburg Address of Presi- 
 dent Lincoln, 87 
 
 Gettysburg, Battle of, 90 
 
 Girard, Stephen, 200 
 
 Gladstone, meeting with, 229 
 
 Goethals, General, recommended 
 as head of emergency ship- 
 building, 225 
 
 Gold, depletion of the Treasury 
 averted by Cleveland, 268 
 
Index 
 
 321 
 
 Golf, introduction of, in York, 
 115 
 
 Gordon, General, agreement with 
 on entering York, 75, 78 
 
 Grant, Gen. U. S., Lee's surrender 
 to, 68; meeting with in Harris- 
 burg, 94; magnanimity of, 95, 
 clash with President Johnson 
 over threatened arrest of Gen- 
 eral Lee, 108; pardons mem- 
 bers of Ku Klux, 115; admira- 
 tion for, 217 
 
 Greeley, Horace, on the Gettys- 
 burg Address, 89; advocate of 
 reconstruction and amity, 117 
 
 Hallowell, Benjamin, 36, 215 
 
 Hallowell, James, 83 
 
 Harding, President, talk with in 
 reference to Taft, 224; abili- 
 ties as President, 226 
 
 Harrison, President, 220 
 
 Hay, Gen. George, member Com- 
 mittee of Public Safety, 74, 77 
 
 Hay, John, secretary to Presi- 
 dent Lincoln, 81 
 
 Hayes, President, acquaintance 
 with, 217 
 
 Health in relation to business 
 efficiency, 14 
 
 Henry, Professor, 215 
 
 Herrick, Myron, at McKinley 
 funeral, 220 
 
 Hersh, Grier, early exponent of 
 golf, 115 
 
 Higinbotham, Harlow N., capa- 
 bility, 174; head of Chicago 
 World's Fair, 304; remarkable 
 judge of men, 305 
 
 Hildebrand, Wesley, 259 
 
 Hoadley, David, 9 
 
 Hoover, Herbert, one of the 
 world's greatest men, 227 
 
 Hopkins, Johns, his secret of 
 success, 198; financial integ- 
 rity, 199; personal traits, 201 
 
 Immel, Mrs. Alex., 39 
 
 Income tax during Civil War, 
 
 103 
 International Harvester Com- 
 
 pany, trust, but public bene- 
 factor, 256 
 
 Japan, trade with, 293 
 Jessop, Edward, a family friend, 
 
 39; introduction to York 
 
 through, 131 
 Jessop, Elizabeth N., 46, 134, 
 
 138 
 Jessop, Jonathan, discoverer of 
 
 York Imperial Apple, 132 
 Johnson, President Andrew, 
 
 narrowness of, 107; clash with 
 
 General Grant over threatened 
 
 arrest of General Lee, 108; 
 
 poor opinion of, 206 
 Jones & Laughlin, difficulties in 
 
 steel market, 233 
 
 Keitt, Col. Ellison S., defends 
 Ku Klux to General Grant, 
 113 
 
 Kilpatrick, General, campaign- 
 ing with, 91 
 
 Ku Klux Klan, organization of, 
 113 
 
 Labor, organization of, 260 
 
 Labor unions, and the working- 
 man, 261 
 
 Lane, Secretary, 224 
 
 Langley, William C, 9 
 
 Leader, Thomas, 259 
 
 Lee, Gen. Fitzhugh, mission to, 71 
 
 Lee, Mary, 36 
 
 Lee, Robert E., pupil of Alexan- 
 dria Boarding School, 36; sur- 
 render to Grant, 68; head- 
 quarters at Frederick, Md., 
 69;. at York, Pa., 73 
 
 Lee, W. H., a schoolmate, 36, 71 
 
 Lincoln, Abraham, debates with 
 Douglas, 63; election to Presi- 
 dency, 64; inauguration, .65; 
 commendation of, on the sav- 
 ing of York, 82-85; at Gettys- 
 burg, 86; second inauguration, 
 and death, 89; prosperity 
 hindered by his death, 106; a 
 man of the age, 295 
 
 Lloyd, Col. Ned, planter and 
 slave owner, 52 
 
322 
 
 Index 
 
 Maigne, W. A., 304 
 
 Maine, destruction of the, brings 
 on war with Spain, 271, 310 
 
 M'Carthy, Justin, acquaintance 
 with, 228, 282 
 
 McAdoo, Secretary, 224 
 
 McGuigan, Peter, 762 
 
 McKinley, President, convinced 
 that it was not wrong to break 
 a bad promise, 35; acquaint- 
 ance with, 220; policies of, 
 309; renominated, 311 
 
 Mexico, trade with, 286 
 
 Morgan, J. P., prevents panic in 
 1907, 151; aids Cleveland in 
 averting depletion of gold re- 
 serve, 268 
 
 Morgenthau, Ambassador, enter- 
 tained by, in Constantinople, 
 314 
 
 Mott, J. L., mistaken as to 
 stability of iron market, 151, 
 152 
 
 National Park Bank, dealings 
 with, 191 
 
 Negroes: education forbidden, 
 31 
 
 Nes, Captain, 69 
 
 Northumberland, Duke of, ac- 
 quaintance with, 228 
 
 Oakley, Robert S., 10 
 
 Osier, Dr. William, on relation 
 of mental and physical con- 
 dition to age, 1 ; epigram on 
 work, 125 
 
 Panic of 1873, 145 
 
 Pattison, Governor, 303 
 
 Peabody, George, 200 
 
 Pickett, General, famous charge 
 at Gettysburg, 92 
 
 Piatt, Senator Orville, acquaint- 
 ance with, 311 
 
 Profiteering during Civil War, 
 96 
 
 "Reconstruction," bitterness of, 
 106, 109, 111 
 
 Redik, Lieutenant, in Confed- 
 erate Army, 75 
 
 Reisinger, George, 44 
 
 Rentzel, Peter, 259 
 
 Rhea, Lord, meeting with, 229 
 
 Riis, Jacob, 312 
 
 Roosevelt, Theodore, regard for, 
 
 90; a personal friend, 220; 
 
 nomination for Vice-President, 
 
 311 
 Roosevelt, Theodore, Jr., 223 
 Rosebery, Lord, meeting with, 
 
 229 
 Rupp, Daniel, 157 
 Russia, trade with, 284 
 
 Sage, Russell, 202 
 
 Sandy Spring, Maryland, early 
 childhood in, 20 et seq. 
 
 Schall, Michael, factory bought 
 from, 161 
 
 Schiff, Jacob, 215 
 
 Schwab, Charles M., loyalty and 
 attachment to Carnegie, 173; 
 recommended as chief of 
 emergency shipbuilding, 225 
 
 Scott, Thomas A., Assistant 
 Secretary of War, 167 
 
 Shepherd, Moses, 202 
 
 Shipping Board, advisor to, 224 
 
 Slavery: conditions in Maryland, 
 30 
 
 Small, David, Chief Burgess, 74, 
 77, 80 
 
 Small, George, advises purchase 
 of telephone stock, 216 
 
 Small, Philip A., 57, 58; member 
 Committee of Public Safety, 
 74; leader in the community, 
 126; first meeting with, 135; 
 weathers the panic of 1873, 
 146; aid from during the 
 panic, 157 
 
 Small, Samuel, a creditor and 
 friend, 57; member Committee 
 of Public Safety, 74, 80; leader 
 in the community, 126; weath- 
 ers the Panic of 1873, 146 
 
 Small, W. Latimer, member 
 Committee of Public Safety, 
 74, 77; aids in financing, 157 
 
 South Africa, trade with, 281 
 
 South America, trade with, 279, 
 291 
 
Index 
 
 823 
 
 Spanish-American War, 310 
 Spottswood, Judge, 202 
 Stanton, Secretary of War, 83; 
 
 familiar with graft in army 
 
 contracts, 101 
 Stedman, Charles J., 9 
 Steininger, Otto, anarchist turned 
 
 capitalist, 249 
 Stephens, Alexander H, work 
 
 for reconstruction, 116 
 Stevens, John A., interviewed in 
 
 search of advice, 6, 7 
 Stewart, A. T., interviewed in 
 
 search of advice, 2, 5, 6, 15; 
 
 preference for employing men 
 
 who had failed in business, 17; 
 
 capability, 174, 175 
 Straus, Oscar, 231 
 Substitutes, practice of furnish- 
 ing, when drafted, 102 
 Sumner, Charles, acquaintance 
 
 with, 206 
 Sutherland, General, Medical 
 
 Purveyor, 98 
 
 Taft, President, friendship with, 
 222, 223, 226 
 
 Tariff, protective, Mr. Car- 
 negie's attitude toward, 173; 
 unsoundness of, 196; attitude 
 toward, 241; President Wil- 
 son's attitude toward, 308 
 
 Tribune, New York, debarred 
 from Maryland, 30 
 
 Telephone, first exhibited at 
 Centennial Exposition, 217 
 
 Thorne, Edwin, 10 
 
 Untermyer, Samuel, counsel at 
 insurance investigation, 307 
 
 Vail, Theodore, early faith in 
 the telephone, 216 
 
 Vicksburg, Union generals pro- 
 test against attack on, 95 
 
 Wadsworth, General, comment 
 on failure to follow up Gettys- 
 burg victory, 93 
 
 Washington, D. C, early condi- 
 tions, 20 
 
 Webster, Daniel, not over scru- 
 pulous, 297; his eloquence, 299 
 
 Wheeler, Harry A., first presi- 
 dent Chamber of Commerce of 
 the United States, 231 
 
 White, Thomas, member Com- 
 mittee of Public Safety, 74, 77 
 
 Wilson, President, during war- 
 time, 225 
 
 Winans, Ross, 203 
 
 Winans, Thomas, builder of 
 Russian railway, 204 
 
 Witmer, George, 259 
 
 World's Fair, Chicago, execu- 
 tive commission to, 303; open- 
 ing of, 304 
 
 Wu Ting-Fang, friendship with, 
 309 
 
 York, Pa., entered by Confed- 
 erate Army under General 
 Early, 78 
 
Ill 
 
 HI 
 
 
 
 1