A SUNDAY IN JUNE
In the midst of the anxious discussion by the citizens of Toledo as
to the character of the power which ruled them both by night and by
day, the same question arose in the metropolitan religious press, but
in its broader ethical aspects. After the petition of Toledo to be
allowed to take the control of its light, heat, and power into its own
hands had been laid before the Legislature, the _National Baptist_
of Philadelphia, in an article on the trusts, criticised them as the
prophet Nathan would have done. It gave to that in oil, "of course,
the bad pre-eminence in all this matter." "This corporation has, by
ability, by boldness, by utter unscrupulousness, by the use of vast
capital, managed to control every producer, every carrier, to say
nothing of the legislatures and courts." The _Examiner_, the leading
religious weekly of the Baptist denomination in New York, rose against
this. "We can readily understand how there should be differences of
opinion in the matter of these trusts, and their influence is a proper
subject of discussion; but to make it the occasion of so unjust and
intemperate an attack on Christian men of the highest excellence of
character is something that was not expected from a paper bearing
such a name. The four most prominent men in the oil trust are eminent
Baptists, who honor their religious obligations, and contribute without
stint to the noblest Christian and philanthropic objects.... All
of them illustrate in their daily lives their reverence for living
Christianity."
The _National Baptist_ did not submit to this attempt to cite men's
creeds to prevent judgment on their deeds. It quoted the reply Macaulay
makes Milton give to the similar pleas urged for King Charles: "For
his private virtues they are beside the question. If he oppress and
extort all day, shall he be held blameless because he prayeth at night
and morning?" It held to its ground, and cited against the trust
the recorded evidence, but it declared it was "a marked breach of
propriety for the _Examiner_ to bring their private character into the
discussion." The _National Baptist_, going on to speak in praise of a
series of lively cartoons in _Harper's Weekly_ on the Forty Thieves of
the Trusts and similar subjects, said, with some sadness: "It will be
a sorry spectacle if the secular papers shall be ranged on the side of
justice and the human race, while the defence of monopoly shall be left
to the so-called representatives of the religious press."
Later, March 20, 1890, the _Examiner_ returned again to its
discussion of the religious performances of the chiefs of the oil
trust as a matter of public importance. Of one of them it said: "The
prayer-meetings of the Fifth Avenue Church are on Wednesday evening,
and no business man in the church is less likely to be absent from one
of them than he. His wife and children, when they are in the city, come
with him, and it is by no means an unusual thing for the whole family
to take part, each of them occupying one or two minutes of time. He and
they are at church every Sunday when in the city, and no husband and
wife keep up the good old Baptist habit more faithfully of exchanging a
kind word with the brethren and sisters after the regular services are
over. He dresses plainly, and so do his family, and every one of them
has a kind heart and a pleasant word for all. They are among the last
to leave the church and the prayer-meeting. Now the question is, How
is it, as things go, that a man possessing the great wealth imputed to
him should have so warm a fraternity of feeling for the lowly in their
temporal conditions? And is there not an example here that might well
be imitated in all the churches of our Lord?"
In an address on Corporations the reverend secretary of the Church
Edifice Department of the Home Missionary Department of the Baptist
Church followed the example of the leading Church journal. "The oil
trust was," he said, "begun and carried on by Christian men.[538] They
were Baptists, and, so far as the speaker knew, both the objects and
the methods of the oil trust were praiseworthy." A clergyman of another
denomination once called upon one of the great men of the trust to seek
a subscription.
"But," said the rich man, "I am not of your Church."
"That does not matter," said the minister, "your money is orthodox."
The secular press followed the example of the religious press in
treating their public faithfulness to Church ceremonies as news of the
day, and part of the record of their social functions. The New York
correspondent of the Philadelphia _Daily Record_ wrote for the people
of Philadelphia: "It is not often that a millionaire stands up to lead
in prayer, but I heard the president of the oil combination make an
excellent prayer the other evening. He is said to be worth $25,000,000,
but he neither drinks nor uses tobacco, and he is a deacon in Dr.
Armitage's church. He likes a fast horse, and has eleven horses in his
stable here. Few men, however, lead plainer lives than he, and few put
on less style. He gives liberally to unsectarian charities, but, he
says, 'when it comes to Church work I always give to the Baptists--my
own denomination--and to no other Church.'" A New York daily described
the same trustee "as one of the few millionaires who devote much of
their time to the improvement of the condition of others. When not
called away by social or business engagements, you are pretty sure
to find him at home evenings. Here, in his costly and well-equipped
library, he receives his visitors, many of whom represent the various
benevolent and religious undertakings in which he is interested. He
has for years been a hearty supporter, financially and personally, of
foreign-missionary work, and no layman, perhaps, is so well informed
concerning the details of it. He has a personal acquaintance with
many of the leading missionaries of the world, and his residence is
frequently the scene of a gathering of these workers among the heathen.
He is now devoting considerable attention to home-missionary work,
a field which, he is convinced, presents splendid opportunities for
Christian endeavor."
Many descriptions have been given by the press, metropolitan and
interior, of the success with which one of the trustees built up the
largest Sunday-school in his city at the same time that he was building
up the monopoly--leading the children of his competitors and customers
to salvation with his left hand, while with his right he led their
fathers in the opposite direction financially. The church where these
men appear has had columns of admiring description in the leading
daily papers of New York and other cities. "There are few wealthier
congregations than this one," says a reporter of the New York _World_,
though he adds, "the wealth is elsewhere more evenly divided." The
trustee of the light of the world "is the magnate of the church, the
centre around which all lesser millionaire lights revolve. Everybody
stops to speak and shake hands with him. Everybody smiles upon him,
this modest man of nearly $200,000,000." "It is amusing," says the
Brooklyn _Eagle_, "to note the manner in which his neighbors watch him
during the service. Quite a number of people loiter near the door to
see him as he walks out of church." "They are worth a bit of careful
study," says another paper of the trustees, "and no place is quite so
convenient as when they are at church. Their interest in religion is
as sincere as their belief in oil. From the moment they enter church
until they leave they are examples that Christians of high and low
degree might follow with profit." "They have made the most of both
worlds," writes another journalist. The oil trust was criticised
by the Rev. Washington Gladden at Chautauqua, in 1889. One of its
prominent officials, as reported in a friendly journal, defended it as
"a sound Christian institution; and all these communistic attacks are
due entirely to the jealousy of those who cannot stand other people's
prosperity."[539]
"In Anniversary week" in Boston, in May, 1889, at the meeting of the
American Baptist Education Society, the secretary said he had an
announcement to make. "It had been whispered about," says the New
York _Examiner_ of May 23, 1889, from whose friendly account we are
quoting, "that something important was to occur at this meeting, and a
breathless silence awaited the announcement. Holding up a letter, the
secretary said that he had here a pledge from a princely giver to our
educational causes, naming him (here he was interrupted by a tremendous
cheer), of $600,000 for the proposed Chicago college.... This statement
was followed by a perfect bedlam of applause, shouts, and waving of
handkerchiefs. One brother on the platform was so excited that he flung
his hat up into the air, and lost it among the audience." Eloquent
speeches at once overflowed the lips of the leading men of the meeting,
which was a delegate assembly. They sprang to their feet, one after
the other, and mutually surpassed each other in praising God and the
giver of this gift, which was equal to his income for a fortnight. "I
scarcely dare trust myself to speak," said a doctor of divinity. "The
coming to the front of such a princely giver--the man to lead.... It
is the Lord's doing.... As an American, a Baptist, and a Christian I
rejoice in this consummation. God has kept Chicago for us; I wonder at
his patience." Another reverend doctor said: "The Lord hath done great
things for us.... The man who has given this money is a godly man, who
does God's will as far as he can find out what God's will is."
The audience rose spontaneously and sang the Doxology. On motion the
following telegram was sent, signed by the president of the society:
"BOSTON, May 18, 1889.
"The Baptist denomination, assembled at the first anniversary of the
Education Society, have received with unparalleled enthusiasm and
gratitude the announcement of your princely gift, and pledge their
heartiest co-operation in the accomplishment of this magnificent
enterprise."
The name signed to this telegram happened to be the same as that of
the divine with whom, when president of Brown University in 1841, one
of the most devoted of the laborers for the freedom of the negro had a
discussion which is perhaps the most pungent in the literature of the
antislavery movement.
On August 30, 1841, Henry C. Wright wrote to Edmund Quincy: "I once met
the president of Brown University, in the presence of several friends,
to converse on the subject of slavery. The conversation turned on the
question: Can a slaveholder be a Christian? To bring it to a point,
addressing myself to the doctor, I asked him, 'Can a man be a Christian
and claim a right to sunder husbands and wives, parents and children,
to compel men to work without wages, to forbid them to read the Bible,
and buy and sell them, and who habitually does these things?' 'Yes,'
answered the reverend doctor and president, 'provided he has the
spirit of Christ.' 'Is it possible for a man to be governed by the
spirit of Christ and claim a right to commit these atrocious deeds,
and habitually commit them?' After some turning he answered, 'Yes, I
believe he can.' 'Is there, then, one crime in all the catalogue of
crimes which of itself would be evidence to you that a man had not the
spirit of Christ?' I asked. 'Yes, thousands,' said the doctor. 'What?'
I asked. 'Stealing,' said he. 'Stealing what, a sheep or a _man_?'
I asked. The doctor took his hat and left the room, and appeared no
more."[540]
The Sunday following a special service was held in the churches
throughout the country in behalf of further help in "the new
educational crisis." Many eulogistic sermons were preached that day
by the leading clergymen of the denomination. "And so," one of them
is reported to have said, "when a crisis came God had a man ready to
meet it.... An institution was bound to come, and unless a God-fearing
man established it it was likely to be materialistic, agnostic.... In
this emergency, and in God's providence, society raised up a man with
a colossal fortune, and a heart as large as his fortune." "God," said
the Chicago _Standard_, a religious weekly, "has guided us and provided
us a leader and a giver, and so brought us out into a large place."
Another of the trustees has poured into a Southern State hundreds
of thousands of dollars for churches of various denominations, and
millions for hotels of a more than Oriental magnificence. "There is
no philanthropist," says an editor of that State, commenting on these
expenditures, "who renders the world greater service than the man of
enterprise." But "Western Pennsylvania," said the Pittsburg _Post_,
"looks more with awe than pride at the liberal diffusion of its wealth
in Florida improvements and Baptist universities." A daily paper of
Richmond, Virginia, in an editorial commenting on a report that the
hostlery glories of St. Augustine were to be repeated in Richmond,
said: "We have naught to remark on the tyrant monopoly if some of
its profits are to come in such a direction. We could forgive much
that monopoly visits on the down-trodden, horny-handed son of toil
if it would come with open pockets proclaiming the era of luxuriant
accommodations for all those other millionaires whose money we want to
see invested in Richmond."
The next year after the Boston meeting the Church celebrated its
"Anniversary week" in the city which was to be the seat of the new
college. And the anniversary closed with a jubilee meeting, which
filled the largest assembly room in America. "All the church-going
people of Chicago must have attended," one of the daily papers said. It
was addressed by the principal clergymen of the denomination from all
parts of the country. Again, as at Boston, the centre of interest was
the gift of a fortnight's income to the university. A telegram making
the gift conclusive, since the conditions on which it was promised had
been complied with, was read. Cheer after cheer rose from the assembly,
and oratory and music expressed the emotion of the audience. The divine
who made the closing speech declared that he needed ice on his head on
account of the joyful excitement of the occasion. The cheers and the
hand-clapping closed again, as at Boston, with the spirited singing
of the Doxology. Not only in the religious press of all denominations,
but in the worldly press, the topic was the best of "copy." The great
dailies gave columns, and even pages, to the incident, and to the
subsequent gift from the same source of larger sums. "Conspicuously
providential," "princely," "grand," "munificent contribution,"
"man of God," were the phrases of praise. A writer in the New York
_Independent_ said: "Your correspondent speaks from opportunities of
personal observation in saying that pecuniary benefaction to a public
cause seldom if ever, in his belief, flowed from a purer Christian
source." The only recorded note of dissent came from a humbler source.
Under the text, "I hate robbery as a burnt-offering," a weekly business
journal said: "The endowment of an educational institution where the
studies shall be limited to a single course, and that a primary course
in commercial integrity, would be a still more advantageous outlet for
superabundant capital. Such an institution would fill a crying want."
It was the last Thursday in May, 1890, when this great representative
convention of the Church from all parts of the United States celebrated
the acceptance of this endowment. Even while the roll of the Doxology
was still rising to the roof of the auditorium the plans were preparing
for a performance at Fostoria the next Sunday, three days later, which
had a profound effect upon Toledo, though just the opposite of what was
expected.
Fostoria, Ohio, is the home of the president of the principal
natural-gas company in Ohio controlled by the oil trust and leader
in the vendetta against Toledo. A wealthy miller erected in Fostoria
in 1886 a flouring-mill, with a capacity of 1000 barrels a day. One
of the inducements was a contract made with this manufacturer by the
gas company, by which it bound itself to supply him with natural-gas
at a price which would be one-fifth what coal would cost him, and to
continue to supply him as long as it supplied any one. The manufacturer
carried out his agreement by the expenditure of $150,000 for the
erection of the mill, and by running it continually to its full
capacity. His bills for gas he paid promptly every month. Relying upon
the contract with the gas company, the mill was built for natural
gas, and could use no other fuel. In February, 1890, the gas company,
dissatisfied with the bargain it had made, demanded better terms. The
milling company refused. On a Sunday morning in June, "when, if ever,
come perfect days," a gang of men appeared, led by an officer of the
gas company, and dug up and tore out the pipes supplying the mill with
gas.
Church bells of different denominations were scattering their sweet
jangle of invitations to the sanctuary as the tramp of these banded
men, issuing on their errand of force, mixed with the patter on the
sidewalks of devout feet. Private grounds were unlawfully entered,
property was destroyed, the peace broken, a day of love changed to one
of hate, all the bonds of community cut asunder, and the people turned
from the contemplation of divine goodness to gaze at shapes of greed
and rage. Sunday is chosen for such deeds, since the help with which
the pagan law, gift of heathen Rome, would interpose, cannot be invoked
by the victims on Sunday, and because on Sunday Christian people go
to church, and leave their property undefended. The peace-officers
were summoned to arrest the invaders for violating the Sunday law, but
before they could get on the ground the mischief was done. The pipes
had all been excavated, the connections wrenched off, and the trench
nearly filled up. The milling company began suit for $100,000 damages
against the gas company,[541] but a private settlement was made, and
the case has never been pressed to trial. The laborers who did the work
of the Captains of Industry in this matter were tried and convicted at
the County Court in July, but by no process did the law, which is "no
respecter of persons," reach out towards the principals.
This Fostoria incident occurred during the heat of the Toledo
contest--June, 1890--while the city was pushing the sale of bonds
for its emancipating pipe line by popular subscription and in odd
lots. Notice had been already served on the people of Toledo at public
conference, that despite contracts, charters, franchises, the private
companies would not take any less price from Toledo than they demanded.
In pursuance of this, after the council had fixed the price in
accordance with its admitted right, a circular was sent out containing
this significant threat: "If it"--the legally declared price--"is
approved by our customers we will know what course to pursue."
Even before the occurrence at Fostoria it had been definitely suggested
to the people of Toledo that in case the council failed to accept
the demand as to rates in making the new ordinance (July, 1890) the
pipes would be so far removed as to cut off the supply on some Sunday
when no legal help could be invoked. The possibility of this Sunday
cut-off of the fuel supply of 15,000 consumers became a living topic of
discussion, public and private, and was considered in all its bearings
by the Toledo press. Calculations were made and published of the
number of men it would require to take up the hundred miles or so of
pipe in the streets of Toledo between dark and dark some holy Sabbath
day. It was confessed, hopelessly, that they would be more than the
police could handle. "Of course," as was said in the Toledo _Blade_ by
a leading citizen, "such enterprise would involve a very remarkable
degree of both lawlessness and desperation on the part of the managers.
It would be a mode of withdrawal from trade quite unknown among sound
business men. But then their processes have been peculiar from the
start."
It was nothing less than startling to Toledo, almost before the print
on the types of these words was dry, to hear the news from Fostoria of
the Sunday raid there. There were those who declared that the Sunday
violence at Fostoria was deliberately done as a warning to Toledo. If
it were a warning to them not to insist on the legal and equitable and
contract right of their Common Council to fix the rates of gas, it
was a failure. The council went forward and did its duty. If it were
a warning to the people to redouble their labors to free themselves
forever from the possibility of such thraldom as that in which Fostoria
and other cities were enchained, it was a success. The people heard and
heeded, and in ten months thereafter gas began to flow into the city
through its own pipes.