Transcriber’s Note
Italic text displayed as: _italic_
AMERICANS BY ADOPTION
OTHER ATLANTIC BOOKS
THE AMENITIES OF BOOK-COLLECTING AND KINDRED AFFECTIONS
By _A. Edward Newton_ $4.00
AN AMERICAN IDYLL: THE LIFE OF CARLETON H. PARKER
By _Cornelia Stratton Parker_ $1.75
THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY AND ITS MAKERS
By _M. A. DeWolfe Howe_ $1.00
ADVENTURES IN INDIGENCE AND OTHER ESSAYS
By _Laura Spencer Portor_ $1.50
COLLECTOR’S LUCK
By _Alice Van Leer Carrick_ $2.50
THE COMFORTS OF HOME
By _Ralph Bergengren_ $1.00
THE PERFECT GENTLEMAN
By _Ralph Bergengren_ $1.00
THE LEAGUE OF NATIONS: THE PRINCIPLE AND THE PRACTICE
Edited by _Stephen Pierce Duggan_ $2.50
THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS
BOSTON
[Illustration: _L. Agassiz_ (signature)]
AMERICANS
BY ADOPTION
_BRIEF BIOGRAPHIES OF
GREAT CITIZENS BORN IN
FOREIGN LANDS_
By JOSEPH HUSBAND
WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY
WILLIAM ALLAN NEILSON
PRESIDENT OF SMITH COLLEGE
[Illustration: Decoration]
_ILLUSTRATED_
_The_ ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS
BOSTON
COPYRIGHT, 1920, BY
THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY PRESS, INC.
_All rights reserved_
To
EDWARD F. SANDERSON
CONTENTS
INTRODUCTION, BY WILLIAM ALLAN NEILSON xi
I. STEPHEN GIRARD 1
II. JOHN ERICSSON 17
III. LOUIS AGASSIZ 37
IV. CARL SCHURZ 56
V. THEODORE THOMAS 74
VI. ANDREW CARNEGIE 91
VII. JAMES J. HILL 104
VIII. AUGUSTUS SAINT-GAUDENS 121
IX. JACOB A. RIIS 140
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
LOUIS AGASSIZ _Frontispiece_
STEPHEN GIRARD 6
JOHN ERICSSON 18
CARL SCHURZ 56
THEODORE THOMAS 74
ANDREW CARNEGIE 92
JAMES J. HILL 104
AUGUSTUS SAINT-GAUDENS 122
JACOB A. RIIS 140
INTRODUCTION
There is an old story, told in many countries through the Middle
Ages, of a knight who got into trouble, and was offered pardon if
within a year he brought the correct answer to the question, “What do
women most desire?” At the last moment he saved himself by answering,
“Their own way,” or words to that effect.
This is a man’s story, and scores the man’s point in the perennial
strife of wits between the sexes; but the answer needs but little
modification to hold good of men and women alike. When one takes up
a book like this, dealing with the lives of men who deliberately
and voluntarily left the homes of their fathers to become citizens
of a strange land, one naturally asks what they wanted, and equally
naturally goes on to ask what men in general want most in life.
Many answers have been given to the question, and none can be final,
because men and circumstances differ so widely. But I should like to
propose one that seems to me of more general application than most.
Men want most to count among their fellows for what they are worth.
This desire is more persistent than love, more universal than the
thirst for wealth or power, more fundamental than the demand for
pleasure. It shows itself in early childhood, it steers the ambitions
of manhood, its fulfillment is the crown of old age. The degree of
the chance to achieve it is the measure of the desirability of a
country as a place to live in; and it is fair to say that the men
whose lives are told in this book, and we others who have come to
America of our own accord, have done so because we believed that
these United States, above all countries of the world, give men this
chance to make the most of themselves.
“To count among their fellows for what they are worth”—see what
this implies. First, and most superficially, it means recognition
of ability and character by society. Carried to the highest point,
it would mean the absence of handicaps, of privilege, of “pull”—the
equality of opportunity for achieving distinction which has always
been the theory of this democracy. Of course, neither here nor
elsewhere is this perfect condition reached; but the biographies in
this book tend to show that there has long been a large degree of it
here, and our social progress has this condition frankly accepted as
a goal.
Secondly, it implies a basis for self-respect. Deeper than the grudge
that a man has against the society which refuses him due credit for
his achievement is the grudge that a man feels when he has to admit
to himself that his achievement is not really creditable. The worst
curse of slavery was not its external restrictions, but its effect in
crushing the slave’s sense of the potential nobility of his own soul.
The feeling that a man has a fair chance to be taken at his full
value is an exhilarating feeling, liberating his powers, freeing him
from the gnawing pains of mortified vanity, impelling him to hold his
head up and look his neighbor in the eye.
Thirdly, it means a chance to do one’s job—one’s own job—and to do
it to the limit of one’s capacity. This is the foundation on which
both recognition and self-respect must be built. “Blessed is the
man,” says Carlyle, “who has found his work; let him seek no other
blessedness.” Because a man is freer in America to pass from one
calling to another, from one class to another, from one region to
another; because here people are willing to be shown what he can do;
the chances are greater than elsewhere that he will find the task and
circumstances which fit him best and let him count for most.
If you read through these nine lives, you will see that what each
of these men was really after, and what each found more fully here
than in the old world, was not wealth or power or pleasure of the
senses, but the chance to do the biggest job of which he was capable.
Three of them, indeed, did gather great wealth, but it was either a
by-product of the main achievement of their lives, or the instrument
of that achievement. The vision that inspired James J. Hill was not
a colossal fortune, but the opening up and populating of a great
territory with farmers leading large, wholesome, and prosperous
lives. Two of the nine were artists, who neither asked nor received
great financial rewards, but who found here the chance to create
beauty and to form taste, and in seizing this chance they found their
supreme satisfaction.
Of these nine men I have known only one, Augustus Saint-Gaudens; but
none could have illustrated better the spirit in which work has to
be done if it is to yield its greatest reward. What struck me in
watching Saint-Gaudens work was his absolute indifference to what a
statue would cost him in pains or in time, or to what it would bring
him in money, and his complete absorption in making it as nearly
perfect as he could. He did not “count the mortal years it takes to
mould the immortal forms.” He would work for hours on the modeling of
an inch of surface, seeking for an exactness of result imperceptible
to the lay bystander. He would never be hurried—and he found America
willing to wait.
The same spirit worked in Ericsson in his inventions, in Carl
Schurz in his unceasing quest for political justice, in Riis in his
cleaning up of New York City. Some of these men were not outstanding
intellects, but each cared intensely about his job, and to each
America gave his chance.
I have a quarrel with the title of this book. “Americans by Choice”
it should be, not “Americans by Adoption.” “Adoption” suggests that
America adopt us. We who have of our own accord left the old world
and taken up citizenship in the new know that we have chosen her,
not she us. We can leave to the native-born their natural pride in
their birthright, but we can claim that we pay a greater compliment
to this land than can these others, for our citizenship is not the
result of an accident but of our free choice. And we have paid our
price. We, and we alone, know what it has cost to leave behind scenes
and traditions and affections which clung close to the heart. But
that we have left them is proof that we prized still more highly the
opportunity that America offered us to count for what we are worth.
In the face of this proof we have no apologies to make. We call
our nine worthies to witness; and, while not forgetting our due of
gratitude for our chance, we point to the use we make of the chance,
and ask the native-born to acknowledge that the balance swings
level. More than this we cannot ask; less than this we will not
take. Granted this, without grudging and without condescension, we
can quiet all fears of divided allegiance, and work with our fellow
citizens for the perfecting of the social order in which these wise
and worthy men found an environment for accomplishment of the first
rank, and with which we have thrown in our lot in becoming Americans
by choice.
W. A. NEILSON.
NORTHAMPTON, MASSACHUSETTS
MARCH, 1920
AMERICANS BY ADOPTION
I
STEPHEN GIRARD
_Born in Bordeaux, France, 1750
Died in Philadelphia, 1831_
The old French city of Bordeaux has for centuries been one of the
greatest maritime cities of Europe. Situated on the low shore of the
River Garonne, its stone quays have for generations been close-packed
with the ships of a world-wide commerce. Under the Roman Empire it
was a flourishing city; in the fourth century, surrounded by massive
walls and lofty towers, it became the capital of Aquitania Secunda;
and later, for three hundred years, it was ruled by English kings.
Here reigned Edward, the Black Prince, and here was born his son
Richard. Between the Bordeaux merchants and the English an extensive
commerce developed, and as years passed by, this commerce branched
out into a world-activity that to-day maintains relations with all
civilized lands, but chiefly, as has been the case for a century and
a half, with England, South America, the West Indies, and the United
States.
In the year 1750 the stone wharves along the river bristled with the
masts and spars of the fleets of the Bordeaux merchants. Small ships
they were compared with the great steel cargo-carriers that to-day
line the stream; but they were staunchly built and strongly manned,
and their rich cargoes, safely transported from the distant Indies,
filled the city with wealth and the romance of blue salt water and
foreign lands.
In that same year, in a house in rue Ramonet au Chartrons, then a
suburb of the city, was born Stephen Girard, son of Pierre Girard,
Captain of the Port of Bordeaux. Pierre the father was a man of some
importance and a prosperous merchant in the city. In 1744, during
the War of the Austrian Succession, he had served with honor in
the French navy, and at the blockade of Brest, he had received the
Military Order of Saint Louis for his heroic action in putting out
the flames on his ship, which had been fired by a fire-ship sent into
the French squadron by the British. In later years he became Burgess
of Bordeaux, and during this period he began to trade with the French
ports in the island of San Domingo in the West Indies. Of such
stock was the boy Stephen; born with the romance of the sea as his
inheritance and with the heroic memory of his father to inspire him,
but born with a handicap which, however, he never permitted to retard
his progress; for from birth he was sightless in his right eye.
It was natural that the boy should turn to the sea. When he was
twelve years old, the death of his mother left him a half-orphan.
His education had been of the most general nature. There was little
to draw him into the occupations of the land. To the lonesome lad
the sea offered at least the promise of adventure, and perhaps the
rewards of wealth and distinction. In the year 1764 Stephen was
fourteen. His father’s trading activities with the West Indies
afforded the opening he desired; and with his few belongings packed
in a sea-chest, he shipped as cabin-boy on a small merchantman to
Port-au-Prince. Five more voyages followed, and in 1773 he was
licensed to act as “captain, master, or pilot of any merchant ship he
could obtain.”
A year later as “officer of the ship” La Julie, he sailed from
Bordeaux for Port-au-Prince. It was the final severance of his tie
with France. The cargo consisted chiefly of general merchandise,
in which Stephen had purchased a small share, bought from Bordeaux
merchants with notes, or promises to pay at some later date. But
business was slow in the islands, and the goods sold at a loss of
over twenty-five per cent. In those days a man might be imprisoned
for debt, and Girard realized that such a fate might await him
should he return to Bordeaux. Accordingly, he obtained his discharge
from the ship, and with a young acquaintance determined to form a
partnership for the purpose of trading between the island ports. So
with many who have sought freedom in the new world, cruel laws and
the dread of an unjust imprisonment forced Girard to forsake his
native land. But the just debt which he owed was not forgotten, and
in later years the Bordeaux merchants, whose anger he had feared,
received from him payment in full of the merchandise they had
advanced him.
In July, 1774, Girard sailed for New York with a small cargo of
coffee and sugar. It was a stirring time in the history of the
American Colonies. For a dozen years the free spirit of the Americans
had chafed under the oppression of British rule. Open fighting had
occurred in Boston in 1770, when, in a fight between the populace and
the British soldiers, three men were killed and eight were wounded.
Two years later the British revenue schooner Gaspee was seized and
burned by the people of Rhode Island, and in 1773 the citizens of
Boston, disguised as Indians, emptied into the water of Boston Harbor
342 chests of tea from an English merchantman, as a protest against
taxation without representation in Parliament. In retaliation, acts
obnoxious to the people of Massachusetts were passed by the British
Government; and in answer to these, on September 5, 1774, the
Continental Congress was assembled at Philadelphia, and a declaration
of rights was drawn up and published, defining the spirit of the
American Colonies and indicating the consequences which must follow
further interference with the liberty of the American people to
levy their own taxes and make their own laws in their own Colonial
assemblies.
Backing words with deeds, the Colony of Massachusetts set up its own
government in defiance of General Gage, the British representative,
and placed at its head John Hancock, an influential merchant of
Boston. Twelve thousand volunteer militiamen were organized,—of
whom about one third were known as “minute men,” or soldiers ready
to march or fight at a minute’s notice,—and stores and ammunition
were collected. Into such a scene sailed the young French boy with
his cargo of sugar and coffee; and it is not surprising that his
liberty-loving spirit sympathized with the indomitable determination
of the colonists to rid themselves of the yoke of an old-world
nation, and led him to seek employment in New York City, with some
merchants there who traded with San Domingo.
First as mate and soon as captain, Girard steadily sailed back and
forth between New York and the trading town of Le Cap in San Domingo.
As captain of the little vessel, he was allowed by the owners the
privilege of carrying a limited store of goods for his own venture,
in addition to the regular cargo. His capital was small, but no
opportunity to increase it was ever allowed to pass, and each voyage
showed a steadily increasing profit to the credit of the youthful
trader.
Meanwhile, in America, the fighting at Lexington and Concord had
announced to the world the determination of the liberty-loving
colonists to cast off British rule, and in 1775 the War of American
Independence was begun. But important as this war is in American
eyes, it was but one of several difficulties which confronted Great
Britain: three years later war was begun between that country and
France, and in 1779 Spain also declared war on Great Britain; this
was followed in 1780 by the declaration of war between Great Britain
and Holland.
Immediately all American shipping became subject to seizure by
British vessels, and accordingly Girard availed himself of the
neutrality of France and shifted to the protection of the French
flag. But the dangers of the sea, increased by the hazards of
war, were enormous, and in 1776 Girard found himself practically
shipwrecked off the Delaware coast. With difficulty he brought
his ship to shore, and soon found himself in the little city of
Philadelphia, which was destined in afteryears to claim him as its
foremost citizen.
Philadelphia was a town of twenty-four thousand inhabitants. By
slow-sailing packets its people kept uncertain contact with the
news of the old-world cities; stage coach and post-rider kept them
informed of home affairs. A few small newspapers reported the
stirring events then occurring. But Girard was not particularly
concerned with the struggle of the American Colonies. He was still
a Frenchman trading with the West Indies, concerned only with his
ships, his markets, and his fortune. Philadelphia seemed to him to be
an enterprising and growing place, and accordingly he settled there.
It was perhaps the most important decision in his life.
As he was forced by the presence of British war vessels off the
coast to abandon his trading ventures with the West Indies, Girard’s
activities were for two years limited to local affairs. During the
blockade an event took place which gave him a real tie with the
struggling states: he married an American, Miss Mary Lum. In 1778 the
British forces occupied Philadelphia and seized the Water Witch, the
first vessel owned entirely by the enterprising Frenchman.
[Illustration: _Stephen Girard_ (signature)]
Philadelphia, however, was soon again in American hands, and the sea
communication for foreign trade was restored. With the reopening
of commerce Girard formed a partnership with his brother, who was
now living at Le Cap, for the purpose of trading between Le Cap and
Philadelphia. Salt, syrup, sugar, and coffee were desired by the
Americans, and by their importation he saw a “big profit.”
Business prospered, and in 1779 Girard wrote to his father: “Tired
of the risks of a sailor’s life, I determined to settle ashore....
I have taken a wife who is without fortune, but whom I love and
with whom I am living very happily. By hard work I have finished
furnishing my house, increased my capital to thirty-five thousand and
hope to make good all my past losses.”
Peace came in 1783, and with it ports were reopened and trade
resumed. Convinced that by owning his own vessels his profits on
each trading voyage would be largely increased, Girard became the
sole owner of a small brig, the Two Brothers, which was built by him
for his particular purposes. It was the actual beginning of that
mercantile career which was to make him in time the richest merchant
in America. The Two Brothers sailed for Le Cap with a cargo of flour
and lumber. The return cargo consisted of molasses, sugar, coffee,
and soap. The profits each way were large, and a second voyage to Le
Cap was promptly undertaken.
Meanwhile, Girard, realizing the opportunities which the new Republic
promised, had become a citizen, taking the oath of allegiance at
Philadelphia on the twenty-seventh of October, 1778. Among the first
of the millions of old-world people who in the years which followed
were destined to renounce the oppressive institutions of their native
lands and become naturalized citizens of the free United States, it
is particularly interesting that Girard was born in a country which
likewise was soon to cast aside the rule of kings and establish the
institutions of a republic.
From now on Girard’s fortune seemed steadily to advance. In 1789
George Washington became the first President of the new Republic.
With the cessation of war at home and abroad, commerce was again
resumed, and an era of prosperity gave to such men as Stephen Girard
the opportunity to reap richly of the world’s commercial harvest.
Crop failures in France had created a demand for foreign wheat, and
to stimulate its importation the French Government offered a premium
to anyone importing it. It was an attractive speculation, and Girard,
with his eye ever scanning world opportunities while others passed
them by, saw his chance to turn an honest penny. Promptly his own
ships and other chartered vessels were filled with grain, and an
abundant profit was quickly realized.
In these early days, the yellow fever, now eradicated by modern
knowledge of sanitation, took each year its death-toll among the
inhabitants of southern countries, and from time to time extended far
beyond its normal field. Girard, and, in fact, most of the American
merchants of that day, had conducted a large business with San
Domingo, the principal trading centre of the West Indies. In 1791,
however, the large negro population of the island revolted, and fire,
slaughter, and plunder soon turned the prosperous community into a
wilderness. White refugees crowded every outgoing vessel and by the
hundreds began to pour into Philadelphia and other American seaboard
cities. “Take advantage of my brig Polly,” wrote Girard to a friend
on the unhappy island, “if she still be in the harbor, to come here
and enjoy the peace which our Republican Government, founded as it is
on the rights of man, assures to all its inhabitants.”
But with the refugees came also the dreaded plague, and baffling
the skill of the doctors, it spread through Philadelphia until the
streets were crowded with funerals and the church-bells seemed
continually to toll. There were few hospitals in those days, and the
Philadelphia hospital at Bush Hill was not only crowded far beyond
its capacity, but was in wretched condition, owing to the lack of
attendants. Girard was put on a committee, and that very evening
reported the immediate need of nurses and money. But Girard did not
stop with his duties as committeeman. Without hesitation, and totally
ignoring the probability of contracting the fever himself, he and a
fellow townsman, Peter Helm, assumed active control of the hospital,
and day and night, throughout the plague, toiled at this self-imposed
work of mercy among the sick and the dying.
Among the various accounts of the plague the following is of
particular interest in its mention of Girard: “Stephen Girard,
a French merchant long resident here, and Peter Helm, born here
of German parents, men whose names and services should never be
forgotten, had the humanity and courage constantly to attend the
hospital, and not only saw that the nurses did their duties, but they
actually performed many of the most dangerous, and at the same time
humiliating services for the sick with their own hands.”
When the plague was over, Girard returned to his business. In
February, 1793, France declared war on Great Britain, and immediately
British troops and ships seized the French cities in San Domingo.
Ships of war and privateers of both countries promptly swarmed
over the seas. Decrees were soon published by the nations at war,
forbidding neutral vessels to trade with enemy ports. The law
of nations was disregarded, and American ships were seized and
confiscated. Great Britain particularly ignored the rights of
American ship-owners, and thousands of dollars worth of American
ships and cargoes were soon in British hands. Two of Girard’s ships,
the Kitty and the Sally, were taken. Commerce was demoralized.
In retaliation against the outrages perpetrated by the British and
the French, a “non-intercourse bill” provided that after November 1,
1794, “all commercial intercourse between the citizens of the United
States and the subjects of the King of Great Britain should cease.”
The bill was lost in the Senate, but an embargo which closed all
American ports to foreign trade accomplished practically the same
end. In all, five ships belonging to Girard were now in enemy hands.
In October, 1801, after eight years of war, peace was concluded
between France and Great Britain, and in December the war which the
United States had been conducting against France was also ended. With
the return of peace came renewed commercial activity. Girard at once
availed himself of the opportunity, and soon his ships were engaged
in trade with the ports of France and Russia. But this revival of
commerce was of short duration, for the unsettled state of Europe
soon resulted in new blockades of ports, embargoes, and acts of
non-intercourse against the offending countries. Then, to complete
the disaster, in 1810 Napoleon annexed Holland to France and issued
a decree “by which American ships and cargoes, seized in the ports
of Holland, Spain, France, and Naples, to the value of ten million
dollars, were condemned and sold.” Five of Girard’s ships which had
sailed for northern ports were now seized and held by the Danes,
and it was many months before their release could be secured. Trade
with Europe was at an end; but despite the heavy losses which Girard
had suffered, he did not hesitate or allow himself to be mastered
by the situation. If Europe was closed, South America and the Far
East were open to him, and now his ships began new commerce with new
continents, and in December, 1810, the ship Montesquieu set sail for
Valparaiso and Canton.
During these years of commercial activity Girard had become a large
investor in real estate, and of his profits from his trading
ventures at sea he had in 1812 almost four hundred thousand dollars
invested in farm acres and lots and buildings in Philadelphia. In
1812 the United States declared war against Great Britain. Bad
feeling had long existed, due primarily to the disregard of the
British for the rights of American vessels. For a long time Great
Britain persisted in stopping our ships, taking American seamen out
of them and forcing them to serve on British vessels. It was more
than patriotism could bear, and the nation enthusiastically entered
the war with the cry of “Free Trade and Sailor’s Rights.” Forced
practically from the sea, Girard turned his great abilities to
finance and the service of his country.
Girard was now sixty-two years old, but age did not deter him from
a new enterprise. A bank had long been needed in Philadelphia, and
to take advantage of the opportunity, Girard established a banking
institution with a capital of over a million dollars, which was
called Stephen Girard’s Bank. The cost of the war which was being
fought with Great Britain was a severe strain on the finances of the
United States, and at the close of the year 1812 it became necessary
for the Treasury to borrow money or the nation would become bankrupt.
Sixteen million dollars was all that was required, but the loan was a
failure, and less than four millions was subscribed. In April a new
offering of the loan was prepared, but again the effort to float it
ended in failure. In all only $5,838,000 was subscribed. More than
ten million dollars must still be borrowed.
Now came an opportunity for Girard to repay to the United States
the debt of gratitude for all that his citizenship had brought him.
To the United States he owed his all, for in this free and fearless
country he had been enabled to amass his great fortune. With two
other men of means, Girard came forward and offered to subscribe for
the entire balance of the loan. The offer was promptly accepted, and
a situation of great embarrassment to the country was avoided.
With the defeat of Napoleon at Leipsic in 1813, and his abdication in
1814, Great Britain found herself free to conduct a more strenuous
attack on the United States, and for a time matters went badly
with the youthful nation. A British raid on the city of Washington
resulted in the burning of the Capitol, the President’s house, and
other public buildings; and this was followed in September by a raid
on Baltimore, which, however, resulted in failure. Great panic was
caused by these actions, and for a time banking was demoralized and
business practically suspended. But on Christmas Eve, 1814, a treaty
of peace was signed at Ghent, and once more Girard promptly resumed
his world-wide trading, and once more the Stars and Stripes blew free
from halyards.
Girard suffered two severe losses by reason of the war, in the loss
of his ship Good Friends and in a ransom of $180,000 which he was
required to pay for his ship Montesquieu and cargo, captured while
returning from Canton, China. But in spite of this, so greatly had
his wealth increased, that he now paid more than a hundredth part
of the total taxes of the city of Philadelphia and his commercial
capital was sufficient to enable him to sell goods on credit and to
carry on a maritime business throughout the world without aid of
discount. “All this,” he has stated, “do I owe principally to my
close attention to business, and to the resources which this fine
country affords to all active or industrious men.”
In the years which followed, Girard found declining profit in
European cargoes brought to Philadelphia, and in 1821 he began to
trade heavily with the Far East. Two of his ships, the Voltaire and
the Montesquieu, were wrecked during this period; but Girard was as
good a loser as a gainer, and pocketed his losses with small comment.
Out of his fleet only four ships remained. Girard was now an old man,
markets were bad owing to the panic in England and on the Continent,
and the prospect for continuous profitable trading seemed ominous. It
was only natural that he should turn from the sea.
Speculation in land had proved to be as fascinating as his
speculations in ships and cargoes. Girard began to buy land, and soon
his total holdings amounted in all to 200,370 acres. In March 1830
he purchased for $30,000 certain tracts of Pennsylvania coal lands
which have to-day a fabulous value. But the land which chiefly held
his interest was those few acres of his farm. “At my age the sole
amusement which I enjoy is to be in the country constantly busy in
attending to the work of the farm generally.” The peace and happiness
of this final episode made a happy ending of Girard’s long, useful,
and successful life.
“The accumulation of money interested him but little. He had now
entered on his eighty-first year. His will was made and his great
wealth dedicated to the good of posterity. He was under no incentive
to labor for its increase. Yet in his bank, in his counting-house, on
his farm, he continued to toil as of old from the sheer love of work.”
At the time of his death in 1831, Girard had for fifty-five years
been a resident of Philadelphia, and for practically his entire
mature life a citizen of the United States. His funeral was of
“immense extent”; the streets were thronged by people assembled to
pay “a last tribute of respect to a great public benefactor.”
The estate left by Girard amounted to almost seven million dollars,
an amount which, in consideration of the times, would compare with
the greatest fortunes of the present day. By the terms of his will,
although there were many large charitable bequests, the bulk of the
fortune was bequeathed to the city of Philadelphia, to be used in
building and maintaining a school “to provide for such a number of
poor male white orphan children ... a better education as well as
a more comfortable maintenance than they usually receive from the
application of the public funds.”
Certain other provisions have kept alive the memory of the testator’s
downrightness and individuality. In a paragraph of the will, Girard
enjoined and required that “no ecclesiastic, missionary, or minister
of any sect whatsoever shall ever hold or exercise any station or
duty whatever in the said college, nor shall any such person ever
be admitted for any purpose, or as a visitor, within the premises
appropriated to the purposes of the said college. In making this
restriction, I do not mean to cast any reflection upon any sect or
person whatever; but as there is such a multitude of sects, and such
diversity of opinion among them, I desire to keep the tender minds of
the orphans, who are to derive advantage from this bequest, free from
the excitements which clashing doctrines and sectarian controversy
are apt to produce.”
Under the wise management of the trustees of the estate, the public
bequests of Girard can now be reckoned in millions. By the thrift,
daring, and vision of a poor French sailor lad a great city of a
mighty nation has received incalculable benefit throughout a century
past, and will receive increasing benefit for centuries to come.
Grasping eagerly the unlimited opportunities of the Republic where
all men stand sure-footed in the equal race for the highest rewards
that civilization can bestow, he seized for himself the honors of
high citizenship, the satisfaction of sincere philanthropy, and the
pleasures that the possession of vast wealth profitably employed can
bring.
To every boy of foreign birth the United States to-day holds equal
promise. Not in mass movements, where progress is measured in the
terms of the slowest, is the reward to be achieved. Only by effort
honestly and sincerely given, in a land where opportunity is free to
all, can the heights be reached. America, oldest of republics, cradle
of liberty, extends its welcome to the youth that is and is to come,
as its welcome has been extended to the youth of generations past.
II
JOHN ERICSSON
_Born in Nordmark, Sweden, 1803_
_Died in New York City, 1889_
High up in the dark forests of Wermland, an ancient division of
Sweden, where deep cold lakes feed the great rivers with clear water
and send them down the mountains to the sea, was born, in the year
1803, a baby, John Ericsson, who in the years that followed made for
himself a name which brought glory to the United States, the land of
his adoption, and undying fame to the country of his birth.
There were few comforts or pleasures waiting to welcome young
Ericsson into the world. The little village where he was born rested
high in the mountains within six degrees of the Arctic Circle. All
around were dark and gloomy forests, filled with strange legends and
tales of ancient heroes, handed down from grandfather to father and
from father to son. The hard thin soil of the mountains was unfit
for cultivation, and it was difficult for the people of the forest
villages to live on the poor crops which they produced in the few
acres hewn from the forests.
But down beneath the tree-roots, deep-lying in the mountain-sides,
were vast deposits of iron ore, renowned throughout the world as the
material of the finest cutlery. So the deep iron-mines gave to the
inhabitants of these mountain villages a hard-earned living which
tempered their own spirits with that same quality which the Swedish
iron developed in the blade of steel.
Olaf Ericsson, the father of John, was part owner of a small
iron-mine and also superintendent of an iron-works, and so the small
boy, with few playmates and none of the school advantages of the
American lad of the present day, found his play and early education
in the machinery at the mine and foundry. He was an industrious boy,
and he was quick to discover the interest and inspiration of the
things which surrounded him. All day, with pieces of paper, a pencil,
and some drawing-tools which he had made for himself, he studied
the principles of the machines and drew clear designs of them to
illustrate their construction.
When John was eleven years old, his father left the mining village
of Langbanshyttan and took with him his wife and his three children:
John, Nils, a year older than John, and a sister, the oldest of the
three. For many years the Swedish Government had considered the
building of a great ship-canal which would open navigation across the
Swedish peninsular, and it was as foreman of this project that Olaf
Ericsson settled his family at Forsvik, a hundred miles from the old
mountain home.
[Illustration: J. Ericsson (signature)]
The mechanical features of this great engineering work filled
young Ericsson with wonder and enthusiasm, and in his eagerness to
obtain knowledge, in order that he too might participate, he sought
information and education from everyone who had the time and
inclination to help him. From a boarder in his father’s household
John learned to draw maps and plans with skill and accuracy. A
friendly professor aided his architectural drawing, and one winter he
studied chemistry and learned to make his own inks and colors with
a few pennies’ worth of chemicals bought from the town druggist. In
these years he also learned the French language, Latin, and grammar;
a fine foundation which enabled him in after years to express himself
in speech and writing with a clearness and exactness that proved of
immeasurable assistance to him.
At the age of twelve the boy had so progressed in his studies that
he was commissioned to make some drawings for the canal company; and
in the following year he became assistant leveler, and a year later,
leveler. In this work he was required to make plans and calculations
for the canal, and had a monthly salary, quarters, and traveling
expenses. Undoubtedly John possessed unusual ability, but this
extraordinary promotion of so young a boy must in large measure have
been the result of his conscientious devotion to his studies and his
enthusiasm and ambition in his work.
In his leisure hours the boy found pleasure in building small working
models of machinery, and among these was a model of a saw-mill
which many years later he counted as the first in the long list of
celebrated inventions which had brought him fame and prosperity.
This model was built entirely of wood, with the exception of the
band-saw, which was filed out by hand from a broken watch-spring and
was operated by a crank cast from an old tin spoon. A cord served for
the driving-band. No detail was omitted, and when water was turned
into the miniature waterwheel, the machinery operated perfectly.
With similar ingenuity he made for himself draughtsman’s compasses,
from birchwood and broken needles; and from the hairs in an old fur
garment of his mother’s he laboriously fashioned brushes with which
to apply colors, also of his own making, to his drawings.
But now the father’s health broke beneath the weight of his work; the
small earnings which supported the family dwindled, and each year
that went by gave to the growing boys added responsibilities. In 1820
John realized that the time had come for him to take his own path and
begin actively to build for his future. His father had died in the
previous year and his mother and sister were supporting themselves by
taking as boarders the workers on the canal. It was necessary that he
also should contribute to their comfort.
Realizing the physical and moral value of military training, young
Ericsson joined the Swedish army. He was now seventeen, a fine
powerful fellow with smooth active muscles, a clear eye, and a
well-trained brain. When he was eighteen there were few, if any, of
his fellows who could match him in feats of strength or agility, and
on one occasion he is said to have lifted a cannon weighing over six
hundred pounds.
Advancement came rapidly, and he was soon recognized as an expert
artillery draughtsman and an expert in the science of artillery, a
branch of the service in which he had begun to specialize. It will be
interesting to see how this early army experience gave to Ericsson
knowledge which in later life brought him his greatest fame and
enabled him to turn the tide of history and hold nations attentive
before his words.
The stirring mind of the young man now yearned for a wider horizon
than the Swedish army afforded, and for a greater opportunity
than his own country presented. For several years he had been
experimenting with a new type of engine by which he hoped to obtain
greater horse-power with economy of fuel. England seemed to offer
the opportunity, and in 1826 he left his native land and took up his
residence in London.
Ericsson went to England at the opening of an engineering era. The
employment of steam as a motive power was in its infancy. Travel by
sea was entirely by ships; on land the stage-coach and canal-boat
furnished the only means of transportation. The steam-engine was an
undeveloped toy of science. Electricity in its industrial application
was unknown.
Forming a business partnership with an English machine manufacturer,
John Braithwaite, under the firm name of Ericsson and Braithwaite,
Ericsson immediately turned his tremendous faculties to various
engineering improvements and inventions. First a gas-engine
occupied his interest; then he turned to his former conception of
a “flame-engine,” in which, by putting the actual fire directly
under the piston, the expanding air would supply the motor power. In
1828 he built and put into operation in a tin-mine in Cornwall a
water-pump driven by compressed air—an invention on which he later
based his claim as inventor of a machine utilizing compressed air for
transmitting power.
It was in the year 1819 that the Atlantic was for the first time
crossed by a steam vessel, the United States ship Savannah, and this
revolutionizing event stimulated Ericsson to new endeavors. In the
months following he produced a number of important improvements by
which smaller and lighter boilers were made possible by increasing
the heat, and hence the power, of the fire by forced draught,
as well as many other radical improvements in steam-engines and
boiler-construction. Of these he claims particularly the credit of
the invention of “surface condensation applied to steam navigation.”
The first steam fire-engine—an apparatus which to-day constitutes
perhaps the most important feature of a city’s fire department—was
invented and built by Ericsson in 1829. Previously, and as a matter
of fact for years afterward, hand-operated engines, manned by crews
of volunteer firemen, fought the fires which so frequently destroyed
vast sections of the wood-constructed cities of those early days.
It is not surprising that this valuable invention did not receive
immediate recognition, for inventors rarely obtain such recognition
from the people whom their inventions benefit. In fact, Ericsson’s
portable steam fire-engine was actually condemned as an impracticable
contrivance that could serve no useful purpose.
To-day we travel thousands of miles by railroad; a hundred years ago
our great-great-grandfathers traveled by horse-drawn coaches. Where
we may now speed a mile a minute behind a giant steam locomotive,
they were content with what seemed to them the tremendous speed of
eleven miles an hour. But all things change. There are always leaders
in the world’s progress. Of these leaders was John Ericsson. Travel
had been a luxury of the rich; the invention of the steam locomotive
made fast and economical travel possible to the poor as well.
In 1829 a prize of two thousand five hundred dollars was offered for
the best steam locomotive which could draw a weight of twenty tons at
the rate of ten miles an hour. Ericsson had never built a locomotive,
but he entered the contest. His greatest competitor was George
Stephenson, who for several years had built small locomotives for use
in coal mines.
On the great day of the trial thousands of people thronged the track
to witness the novel sight. Never in the world’s history had there
been a public experiment so momentous, unless we except the journey
of the American inventor’s steamship, the Clermont, on her first
historic progress up the Hudson River.
The locomotive entered in the contest by Stephenson was named the
Rocket, a strong well-built engine that ultimately was awarded the
prize. But although he was not the winner in this great competition,
to Ericsson belongs great credit, for his locomotive, the Novelty,
passed the Rocket at the amazing speed, for those days, of thirty
miles an hour, and failed to win the prize only because of certain
defects in its construction which caused it to break down before the
goal was reached.
Ericsson was twenty-six years old when he built the Novelty. Already
he had contributed many useful inventions to the world. But his
greatest triumphs were still to come. He had been beaten fairly and
squarely by Stephenson, but his was not the spirit that is easily
subdued. Ericsson, like the hero of Greek mythology, rose the
stronger each time an adversary cast him to the earth.
In 1836 he married a nineteen-year-old English girl, Amelia Byam,
granddaughter of Sir Charles Byam, some time British Commissioner for
Antigua.
For a short time he devoted himself to the perfection of a hot-air
engine, and a sounding device by which ships might ascertain the
depth of the water over which they were passing. Then he turned to
a new activity. The result was revolutionary. What he had almost
accomplished in the field of land-transportation with the Novelty,
he now actually achieved in steam-navigation on the sea. To Ericsson
should be credited the perfection and application of the screw for
the propulsion of steam-driven vessels.
Up to the dawn of the nineteenth century the sailing-ship had
ruled the seas. And even until the middle of that century the fast
clippers, with their towers of widespread canvas, had held supreme
domination over the world’s waterways. But in the year 1835 Ericsson
designed a rotary propeller driven by a steam-engine, which marked
the beginning of the end of sailing days. The steam-engine, first
placed in a ship by Robert Fulton, the American inventor, was no
novelty, but it had been used only to propel vessels by means of
paddle-wheels attached to each side of the vessels, huge cumbersome
contrivances, which were easily damaged by heavy seas and which on
ships of war afforded easy targets for the enemy.
The screw of Ericsson’s was designed to operate underneath the stern
of the vessel, under water and just forward of the rudder, exactly
as it is placed to-day. To test this new invention Ericsson built a
small vessel, the Francis B. Ogden, which was launched in the Thames
River in the spring of 1837. The experiment was a great success and
a speed of over ten miles an hour was attained, to the wonder of the
stolid English boatmen who watched in amazement this strange ship
move rapidly through the water with no visible means of propulsion.
Later in the summer Ericsson invited the Lords of the British
Admiralty to inspect his steamship, and even conducted them on a
trial trip on the Thames; but the amazing performance of the Ogden
created but little interest in the minds of the British officials,
who dismissed the affair as an “interesting experiment.”
But Ericsson had a friend who stood him in good stead. This friend
was an American, Francis B. Ogden, our counsul at Liverpool, after
whom Ericsson’s first vessel was named. Ogden was not an engineer,
but he recognized in the Swedish inventor a man of sincerity and
genius, and to his friendship Ericsson owed much in the way of advice
and assistance.
In 1838 Ericsson built and launched a larger steamship, the Robert
F. Stockton which sailed from Gravesend, England, on April 13,
1839, and made a successful passage to New York City, the first
screw-driven steamship ever to cross the Atlantic. As the result of
this remarkable achievement Ericsson was assured that the government
of the United States would try out his invention on a large scale,
and persuaded him to go to America.
Ericsson was not reluctant. For years he had struggled under the
old-world conservatism. With his energy and ambition, he realized
that only in the great land of opportunity beyond the sea could lie
his hope of recognition. In November, 1839, he sailed for the United
States.
There were no steam vessels in our navy when Ericsson reached our
shores, and it was not until 1842 that the building of the Princeton
gave him the opportunity to display his great invention. The
Princeton was a small iron warship of six hundred tons, and to her
construction Ericsson contributed not only his screw-propeller, but
also a new construction for the gun-carriage, and, of even greater
importance, a cannon reinforced by steel hoops shrunk on to the
breech of the gun. This reinforcing of the breech of a cannon may be
said to have established the recognized construction of the modern
high-power naval guns of the present day.