THE PEACE PALACE AND PITTENCRIEFF
Peace, at least as between English-speaking peoples,[55] must have
been early in my thoughts. In 1869, when Britain launched the monster
Monarch, then the largest warship known, there was, for some
now-forgotten reason, talk of how she could easily compel tribute from
our American cities one after the other. Nothing could resist her. I
cabled John Bright, then in the British Cabinet (the cable had
recently been opened):
"First and best service possible for Monarch, bringing home body
Peabody."[56]
[Footnote 55: "Let men say what they will, I say that as surely as the
sun in the heavens once shone upon Britain and America united, so
surely it is one morning to rise, shine upon, and greet again the
Reunited States--the British-American Union." (Quoted in Alderson's
_Andrew Carnegie, The Man and His Work_, p. 108. New York, 1909.)]
[Footnote 56: George Peabody, the American merchant and
philanthropist, who died in London in 1869.]
No signature was given. Strange to say, this was done, and thus the
Monarch became the messenger of peace, not of destruction. Many years
afterwards I met Mr. Bright at a small dinner party in Birmingham and
told him I was his young anonymous correspondent. He was surprised
that no signature was attached and said his heart was in the act. I am
sure it was. He is entitled to all credit.
He was the friend of the Republic when she needed friends during the
Civil War. He had always been my favorite living hero in public life
as he had been my father's. Denounced as a wild radical at first, he
kept steadily on until the nation came to his point of view. Always
for peace he would have avoided the Crimean War, in which Britain
backed the wrong horse, as Lord Salisbury afterwards acknowledged. It
was a great privilege that the Bright family accorded me, as a friend,
to place a replica of the Manchester Bright statue in Parliament, in
the stead of a poor one removed.
I became interested in the Peace Society of Great Britain upon one of
my early visits and attended many of its meetings, and in later days I
was especially drawn to the Parliamentary Union established by Mr.
Cremer, the famous working-man's representative in Parliament. Few men
living can be compared to Mr. Cremer. When he received the Nobel Prize
of £8000 as the one who had done the most that year for peace, he
promptly gave all but £1000, needed for pressing wants, to the
Arbitration Committee. It was a noble sacrifice. What is money but
dross to the true hero! Mr. Cremer is paid a few dollars a week by his
trade to enable him to exist in London as their member of Parliament,
and here was fortune thrown in his lap only to be devoted by him to
the cause of peace. This is the heroic in its finest form.
I had the great pleasure of presenting the Committee to President
Cleveland at Washington in 1887, who received the members cordially
and assured them of his hearty coöperation. From that day the
abolition of war grew in importance with me until it finally
overshadowed all other issues. The surprising action of the first
Hague Conference gave me intense joy. Called primarily to consider
disarmament (which proved a dream), it created the commanding reality
of a permanent tribunal to settle international disputes. I saw in
this the greatest step toward peace that humanity had ever taken, and
taken as if by inspiration, without much previous discussion. No
wonder the sublime idea captivated the conference.
If Mr. Holls, whose death I so deeply deplored, were alive to-day and
a delegate to the forthcoming second Conference with his chief, Andrew
D. White, I feel that these two might possibly bring about the
creation of the needed International Court for the abolition of war.
He it was who started from The Hague at night for Germany, upon
request of his chief, and saw the German Minister of Foreign Affairs,
and the Emperor and finally prevailed upon them to approve of the High
Court, and not to withdraw their delegates as threatened--a service
for which Mr. Holls deserves to be enrolled among the greatest
servants of mankind. Alas, death came to him while still in his prime.
The day that International Court is established will become one of the
most memorable days in the world's history.[57] It will ring the knell
of man killing man--the deepest and blackest of crimes. It should be
celebrated in every land as I believe it will be some day, and that
time, perchance, not so remote as expected. In that era not a few of
those hitherto extolled as heroes will have found oblivion because
they failed to promote peace and good-will instead of war.
[Footnote 57: "I submit that the only measure required to-day for the
maintenance of world peace is an agreement between three or four of
the leading Civilized Powers (and as many more as desire to join--the
more the better) pledged to coöperate against disturbers of world
peace, should such arise." (Andrew Carnegie, in address at unveiling
of a bust of William Randall Cremer at the Peace Palace of The Hague,
August 29, 1913.)]
When Andrew D. White and Mr. Holls, upon their return from The Hague,
suggested that I offer the funds needed for a Temple of Peace at The
Hague, I informed them that I never could be so presumptuous; that if
the Government of the Netherlands informed me of its desire to have
such a temple and hoped I would furnish the means, the request would
be favorably considered. They demurred, saying this could hardly be
expected from any Government. Then I said I could never act in the
matter.
Finally the Dutch Government did make application, through its
Minister, Baron Gevers in Washington, and I rejoiced. Still, in
writing him, I was careful to say that the drafts of his Government
would be duly honored. I did not send the money. The Government drew
upon me for it, and the draft for a million and a half is kept as a
memento. It seems to me almost too much that any individual should be
permitted to perform so noble a duty as that of providing means for
this Temple of Peace--the most holy building in the world because it
has the holiest end in view. I do not even except St. Peter's, or any
building erected to the glory of God, whom, as Luther says, "we cannot
serve or aid; He needs no help from us." This temple is to bring
peace, which is so greatly needed among His erring creatures. "The
highest worship of God is service to man." At least, I feel so with
Luther and Franklin.
When in 1907 friends came and asked me to accept the presidency of the
Peace Society of New York, which they had determined to organize, I
declined, alleging that I was kept very busy with many affairs, which
was true; but my conscience troubled me afterwards for declining. If I
were not willing to sacrifice myself for the cause of peace what
should I sacrifice for? What was I good for? Fortunately, in a few
days, the Reverend Lyman Abbott, the Reverend Mr. Lynch, and some
other notable laborers for good causes called to urge my
reconsideration. I divined their errand and frankly told them they
need not speak. My conscience had been tormenting me for declining and
I would accept the presidency and do my duty. After that came the
great national gathering (the following April) when for the first time
in the history of Peace Society meetings, there attended delegates
from thirty-five of the states of the Union, besides many foreigners
of distinction.[58]
[Footnote 58: Mr. Carnegie does not mention the fact that in December,
1910, he gave to a board of trustees $10,000,000, the revenue of which
was to be administered for "the abolition of international war, the
foulest blot upon our civilization." This is known as the Carnegie
Endowment for International Peace. The Honorable Elihu Root is
president of the board of trustees.]
My first decoration then came unexpectedly. The French Government had
made me Knight Commander of the Legion of Honor, and at the Peace
Banquet in New York, over which I presided, Baron d'Estournelles de
Constant appeared upon the stage and in a compelling speech invested
me with the regalia amid the cheers of the company. It was a great
honor, indeed, and appreciated by me because given for my services to
the cause of International Peace. Such honors humble, they do not
exalt; so let them come.[59] They serve also to remind me that I must
strive harder than ever, and watch every act and word more closely,
that I may reach just a little nearer the standard the givers--deluded
souls--mistakenly assume in their speeches, that I have already
attained.
[Footnote 59: Mr. Carnegie received also the Grand Cross Order of
Orange-Nassau from Holland, the Grand Cross Order of Danebrog from
Denmark, a gold medal from twenty-one American Republics and had
doctors' degrees from innumerable universities and colleges. He was
also a member of many institutes, learned societies and clubs--over
190 in number.]
* * * * *
No gift I have made or can ever make can possibly approach that of
Pittencrieff Glen, Dunfermline. It is saturated with childish
sentiment--all of the purest and sweetest. I must tell that story:
Among my earliest recollections are the struggles of Dunfermline to
obtain the rights of the town to part of the Abbey grounds and the
Palace ruins. My Grandfather Morrison began the campaign, or, at
least, was one of those who did. The struggle was continued by my
Uncles Lauder and Morrison, the latter honored by being charged with
having incited and led a band of men to tear down a certain wall. The
citizens won a victory in the highest court and the then Laird ordered
that thereafter "no Morrison be admitted to the Glen." I, being a
Morrison like my brother-cousin, Dod, was debarred. The Lairds of
Pittencrieff for generations had been at variance with the
inhabitants.
The Glen is unique, as far as I know. It adjoins the Abbey and Palace
grounds, and on the west and north it lies along two of the main
streets of the town. Its area (between sixty and seventy acres) is
finely sheltered, its high hills grandly wooded. It always meant
paradise to the child of Dunfermline. It certainly did to me. When I
heard of paradise, I translated the word into Pittencrieff Glen,
believing it to be as near to paradise as anything I could think of.
Happy were we if through an open lodge gate, or over the wall or under
the iron grill over the burn, now and then we caught a glimpse inside.
Almost every Sunday Uncle Lauder took "Dod" and "Naig" for a walk
around the Abbey to a part that overlooked the Glen--the busy crows
fluttering around in the big trees below. Its Laird was to us children
the embodiment of rank and wealth. The Queen, we knew, lived in
Windsor Castle, but she didn't own Pittencrieff, not she! Hunt of
Pittencrieff wouldn't exchange with her or with any one. Of this we
were sure, because certainly neither of us would. In all my
childhood's--yes and in my early manhood's--air-castle building (which
was not small), nothing comparable in grandeur approached
Pittencrieff. My Uncle Lauder predicted many things for me when I
became a man, but had he foretold that some day I should be rich
enough, and so supremely fortunate as to become Laird of Pittencrieff,
he might have turned my head. And then to be able to hand it over to
Dunfermline as a public park--my paradise of childhood! Not for a
crown would I barter that privilege.
When Dr. Ross whispered to me that Colonel Hunt might be induced to
sell, my ears cocked themselves instantly. He wished an extortionate
price, the doctor thought, and I heard nothing further for some time.
When indisposed in London in the autumn of 1902, my mind ran upon the
subject, and I intended to wire Dr. Ross to come up and see me. One
morning, Mrs. Carnegie came into my room and asked me to guess who had
arrived and I guessed Dr. Ross. Sure enough, there he was. We talked
over Pittencrieff. I suggested that if our mutual friend and
fellow-townsman, Mr. Shaw in Edinburgh (Lord Shaw of Dunfermline) ever
met Colonel Hunt's agents he could intimate that their client might
some day regret not closing with me as another purchaser equally
anxious to buy might not be met with, and I might change my mind or
pass away. Mr. Shaw told the doctor when he mentioned this that he had
an appointment to meet with Hunt's lawyer on other business the next
morning and would certainly say so.
I sailed shortly after for New York and received there one day a cable
from Mr. Shaw stating that the Laird would accept forty-five thousand
pounds. Should he close? I wired: "Yes, provided it is under Ross's
conditions"; and on Christmas Eve, I received Shaw's reply: "Hail,
Laird of Pittencrieff!" So I was the happy possessor of the grandest
title on earth in my estimation. The King--well, he was only the King.
He didn't own King Malcolm's tower nor St. Margaret's shrine, nor
Pittencrieff Glen. Not he, poor man. I did, and I shall be glad to
condescendingly show the King those treasures should he ever visit
Dunfermline.
As the possessor of the Park and the Glen I had a chance to find out
what, if anything, money could do for the good of the masses of a
community, if placed in the hands of a body of public-spirited
citizens. Dr. Ross was taken into my confidence so far as Pittencrieff
Park was concerned, and with his advice certain men intended for a
body of trustees were agreed upon and invited to Skibo to organize.
They imagined it was in regard to transferring the Park to the town;
not even to Dr. Ross was any other subject mentioned. When they heard
that half a million sterling in bonds, bearing five per cent interest,
was also to go to them for the benefit of Dunfermline, they were
surprised.[60]
[Footnote 60: Additional gifts, made later, brought this gift up to
$3,750,000.]
It is twelve years since the Glen was handed over to the trustees and
certainly no public park was ever dearer to a people. The children's
yearly gala day, the flower shows and the daily use of the Park by the
people are surprising. The Glen now attracts people from neighboring
towns. In numerous ways the trustees have succeeded finely in the
direction indicated in the trust deed, namely:
To bring into the monotonous lives of the toiling masses of
Dunfermline, more "of sweetness and light," to give to
them--especially the young--some charm, some happiness, some
elevating conditions of life which residence elsewhere would
have denied, that the child of my native town, looking back
in after years, however far from home it may have roamed,
will feel that simply by virtue of being such, life has been
made happier and better. If this be the fruit of your
labors, you will have succeeded; if not, you will have
failed.
To this paragraph I owe the friendship of Earl Grey, formerly
Governor-General of Canada. He wrote Dr. Ross:
"I must know the man who wrote that document in the 'Times' this
morning."
We met in London and became instantly sympathetic. He is a great soul
who passes instantly into the heart and stays there. Lord Grey is also
to-day a member (trustee) of the ten-million-dollar fund for the
United Kingdom.[61]
[Footnote 61: Mr. Carnegie refers to the gift of ten million dollars
to the Carnegie United Kingdom Trust merely in connection with Earl
Grey. His references to his gifts are casual, in that he refers only
to the ones in which he happens for the moment to be interested. Those
he mentions are merely a part of the whole. He gave to the Church
Peace Union over $2,000,000, to the United Engineering Society
$1,500,000, to the International Bureau of American Republics
$850,000, and to a score or more of research, hospital, and
educational boards sums ranging from $100,000 to $500,000. He gave to
various towns and cities over twenty-eight hundred library buildings
at a cost of over $60,000,000. The largest of his gifts he does not
mention at all. This was made in 1911 to the Carnegie Corporation of
New York and was $125,000,000. The Corporation is the residuary
legatee under Mr. Carnegie's will and it is not yet known what further
sum may come to it through that instrument. The object of the
Corporation, as defined by Mr. Carnegie himself in a letter to the
trustees, is:
"To promote the advancement and diffusion of knowledge and
understanding among the people of the United States by aiding
technical schools, institutions of higher learning, libraries,
scientific research, hero funds, useful publications and by such other
agencies and means as shall from time to time be found appropriate
therefor."
The Carnegie benefactions, all told, amount to something over
$350,000,000--surely a huge sum to have been brought together and then
distributed by one man.]
Thus, Pittencrieff Glen is the most soul-satisfying public gift I ever
made, or ever can make. It is poetic justice that the grandson of
Thomas Morrison, radical leader in his day, nephew of Bailie Morrison,
his son and successor, and above all son of my sainted father and my
most heroic mother, should arise and dispossess the lairds, should
become the agent for conveying the Glen and Park to the people of
Dunfermline forever. It is a true romance, which no air-castle can
quite equal or fiction conceive. The hand of destiny seems to hover
over it, and I hear something whispering: "Not altogether in vain have
you lived--not altogether in vain." This is the crowning mercy of my
career! I set it apart from all my other public gifts. Truly the
whirligig of time brings in some strange revenges.
It is now thirteen years since I ceased to accumulate wealth and began
to distribute it. I could never have succeeded in either had I stopped
with having enough to retire upon, but nothing to retire to. But there
was the habit and the love of reading, writing and speaking upon
occasion, and also the acquaintance and friendship of educated men
which I had made before I gave up business. For some years after
retiring I could not force myself to visit the works. This, alas,
would recall so many who had gone before. Scarcely one of my early
friends would remain to give me the hand-clasp of the days of old.
Only one or two of these old men would call me "Andy."
Do not let it be thought, however, that my younger partners were
forgotten, or that they have not played a very important part in
sustaining me in the effort of reconciling myself to the new
conditions. Far otherwise! The most soothing influence of all was
their prompt organization of the Carnegie Veteran Association, to
expire only when the last member dies. Our yearly dinner together, in
our own home in New York, is a source of the greatest pleasure,--so
great that it lasts from one year to the other. Some of the Veterans
travel far to be present, and what occurs between us constitutes one
of the dearest joys of my life. I carry with me the affection of "my
boys." I am certain I do. There is no possible mistake about that
because my heart goes out to them. This I number among my many
blessings and in many a brooding hour this fact comes to me, and I say
to myself: "Rather this, minus fortune, than multi-millionairedom
without it--yes, a thousand times, yes."
Many friends, great and good men and women, Mrs. Carnegie and I are
favored to know, but not one whit shall these ever change our joint
love for the "boys." For to my infinite delight her heart goes out to
them as does mine. She it was who christened our new New York home
with the first Veteran dinner. "The partners first" was her word. It
was no mere idle form when they elected Mrs. Carnegie the first
honorary member, and our daughter the second. Their place in our
hearts is secure. Although I was the senior, still we were "boys
together." Perfect trust and common aims, not for self only, but for
each other, and deep affection, moulded us into a brotherhood. We were
friends first and partners afterwards. Forty-three out of forty-five
partners are thus bound together for life.
Another yearly event that brings forth many choice spirits is our
Literary Dinner, at home, our dear friend Mr. Richard Watson Gilder,
editor of the "Century," being the manager.[62] His devices and
quotations from the writings of the guest of the year, placed upon
the cards of the guests, are so appropriate, as to cause much
hilarity. Then the speeches of the novitiates give zest to the
occasion. John Morley was the guest of honor when with us in 1895 and
a quotation from his works was upon the card at each plate.
[Footnote 62: "Yesterday we had a busy day in Toronto. The grand event
was a dinner at six o'clock where we all spoke, A.C. making a
remarkable address.... I can't tell you how I am enjoying this. Not
only seeing new places, but the talks with our own party. It is,
indeed, a liberal education. A.C. is truly a 'great' man; that is, a
man of enormous faculty and a great imagination. I don't remember any
friend who has such a range of poetical quotation, unless it is
Stedman. (Not so much _range_ as numerous quotations from Shakespeare,
Burns, Byron, etc.) His views are truly large and prophetic. And,
unless I am mistaken, he has a genuine ethical character. He is not
perfect, but he is most interesting and remarkable; a true democrat;
his benevolent actions having a root in principle and character. He is
not accidentally the intimate friend of such high natures as Arnold
and Morley." (_Letters of Richard Watson Gilder_, edited by his
daughter Rosamond Gilder, p. 374. New York, 1916.)]
One year Gilder appeared early in the evening of the dinner as he
wished to seat the guests. This had been done, but he came to me
saying it was well he had looked them over. He had found John
Burroughs and Ernest Thompson Seton were side by side, and as they
were then engaged in a heated controversy upon the habits of beasts
and birds, in which both had gone too far in their criticisms, they
were at dagger's points. Gilder said it would never do to seat them
together. He had separated them. I said nothing, but slipped into the
dining-room unobserved and replaced the cards as before. Gilder's
surprise was great when he saw the men next each other, but the result
was just as I had expected. A reconciliation took place and they
parted good friends. Moral: If you wish to play peace-maker, seat
adversaries next each other where they must begin by being civil.
Burroughs and Seton both enjoyed the trap I set for them. True it is,
we only hate those whom we do not know. It certainly is often the way
to peace to invite your adversary to dinner and even beseech him to
come, taking no refusal. Most quarrels become acute from the parties
not seeing and communicating with each other and hearing too much of
their disagreement from others. They do not fully understand the
other's point of view and all that can be said for it. Wise is he who
offers the hand of reconciliation should a difference with a friend
arise. Unhappy he to the end of his days who refuses it. No possible
gain atones for the loss of one who has been a friend even if that
friend has become somewhat less dear to you than before. He is still
one with whom you have been intimate, and as age comes on friends pass
rapidly away and leave you.
He is the happy man who feels there is not a human being to whom he
does not wish happiness, long life, and deserved success, not one in
whose path he would cast an obstacle nor to whom he would not do a
service if in his power. All this he can feel without being called
upon to retain as a friend one who has proved unworthy beyond question
by dishonorable conduct. For such there should be nothing felt but
pity, infinite pity. And pity for your own loss also, for true
friendship can only feed and grow upon the virtues.
"When love begins to sicken and decay
It useth an enforced ceremony."
The former geniality may be gone forever, but each can wish the other
nothing but happiness.
None of my friends hailed my retirement from business more warmly than
Mark Twain. I received from him the following note, at a time when the
newspapers were talking much about my wealth.
DEAR SIR AND FRIEND:
You seem to be prosperous these days. Could you lend an
admirer a dollar and a half to buy a hymn-book with? God
will bless you if you do; I feel it, I know it. So will I.
If there should be other applications this one not to count.
Yours
MARK
P.S. Don't send the hymn-book, send the money. I want to
make the selection myself.
M.
When he was lying ill in New York I went to see him frequently, and we
had great times together, for even lying in bed he was as bright as
ever. One call was to say good-bye, before my sailing for Scotland.
The Pension Fund for University Professors was announced in New York
soon after I sailed. A letter about it from Mark, addressed to "Saint
Andrew," reached me in Scotland, from which I quote the following:
You can take my halo. If you had told me what you had done
when at my bedside you would have got it there and then. It
is pure tin and paid "the duty" when it came down.
Those intimate with Mr. Clemens (Mark Twain) will certify that he was
one of the charmers. Joe Jefferson is the only man who can be conceded
his twin brother in manner and speech, their charm being of the same
kind. "Uncle Remus" (Joel Chandler Harris) is another who has charm,
and so has George W. Cable; yes, and Josh Billings also had it. Such
people brighten the lives of their friends, regardless of themselves.
They make sunshine wherever they go. In Rip Van Winkle's words: "All
pretty much alike, dem fellers." Every one of them is unselfish and
warm of heart.
The public only knows one side of Mr. Clemens--the amusing part.
Little does it suspect that he was a man of strong convictions upon
political and social questions and a moralist of no mean order. For
instance, upon the capture of Aguinaldo by deception, his pen was the
most trenchant of all. Junius was weak in comparison.
The gathering to celebrate his seventieth birthday was unique. The
literary element was there in force, but Mark had not forgotten to ask
to have placed near him the multi-millionaire, Mr. H.H. Rogers, one
who had been his friend in need. Just like Mark. Without exception,
the leading literary men dwelt in their speeches exclusively upon the
guest's literary work. When my turn came, I referred to this and asked
them to note that what our friend had done as a man would live as long
as what he had written. Sir Walter Scott and he were linked
indissolubly together. Our friend, like Scott, was ruined by the
mistakes of partners, who had become hopelessly bankrupt. Two courses
lay before him. One the smooth, easy, and short way--the legal path.
Surrender all your property, go through bankruptcy, and start afresh.
This was all he owed to creditors. The other path, long, thorny, and
dreary, a life struggle, with everything sacrificed. There lay the two
paths and this was his decision:
"Not what I owe to my creditors, but what I owe to myself is the
issue."
There are times in most men's lives that test whether they be dross or
pure gold. It is the decision made in the crisis which proves the man.
Our friend entered the fiery furnace a man and emerged a hero. He paid
his debts to the utmost farthing by lecturing around the world. "An
amusing cuss, Mark Twain," is all very well as a popular verdict, but
what of Mr. Clemens the man and the hero, for he is both and in the
front rank, too, with Sir Walter.
He had a heroine in his wife. She it was who sustained him and
traveled the world round with him as his guardian angel, and enabled
him to conquer as Sir Walter did. This he never failed to tell to his
intimates. Never in my life did three words leave so keen a pang as
those uttered upon my first call after Mrs. Clemens passed away. I
fortunately found him alone and while my hand was still in his, and
before one word had been spoken by either, there came from him, with a
stronger pressure of my hand, these words: "A ruined home, a ruined
home." The silence was unbroken. I write this years after, but still I
hear the words again and my heart responds.
One mercy, denied to our forefathers, comes to us of to-day. If the
Judge within give us a verdict of acquittal as having lived this life
well, we have no other Judge to fear.
"To thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man."
Eternal punishment, because of a few years' shortcomings here on
earth, would be the reverse of Godlike. Satan himself would recoil
from it.