Millionaire Andrew
Carnegie came to this country as an immigrant. Now, if you're saying
to yourselves, Jack, it's not Carnegie, it's
Carnegie, as in Carnegie Hall and the Carnegie Institute and
all those Carnegie libraries. Well, yes. But in Scotland, his
birthplace, the family name is pronounced Carnegie. And in Pittsburgh
where his name is synonymous with the
great steel industry, he's also known as Carnegie. Somehow, like many
of our ancestors whose names were changed or
shortened or mispronounced when they came together to
form this new nation, Carnegie was transformed
into Carnegie. But regardless of
the pronunciation, perhaps no one immigrant has
left a more vibrant living legacy to his adopted
country than Andrew Carnegie. NARRATOR: In America, in the
last half of the 19th century, a few men made fortunes
worthy of kings. Among them was one man who
believed a rich man who dies rich, dies in disgrace. That man was Andrew Carnegie,
a poor Scottish immigrant who rose from the
slums of Pittsburgh to become one of the most
powerful men in America. A man proud of his
working class roots, who were shamed in a
bloody confrontation with his own employees. An avowed capitalist, once
hailed as the world's richest man, who gave back his fortune
to benefit future generations. Andrew Carnegie built an
empire, but he created a legend. On November 25, 1835 in
Dunfermline, Scotland, William Carnegie plied his
trade on the hand loom which filled the first floor
of his humble stone bungalow. But his mind that day was not
on making fine linen cloth. His wife, Margaret, was
in labor in the other room of their home, a small attic. That night, she gave birth
to their first child, a son they named Andrew. The child's father, William,
was a fine craftsman who provided a comfortable
home for his wife and son. But his business was devastated
by the textile factories. William Carnegie refused to
seek work in the factories, and the family suffered
through the poverty caused by his pride. It was Andrew's
mother, Margaret, who supplied the strength
to keep the family together. From her example, Andrew
learned the value of hard work at an early age. Even then while
doing his chores, he showed contempt for
things that stood in his way. One of his jobs was to fetch
water from the town well. By custom, the townspeople
put out their buckets to form a line the night before. But Andrew got tired of watching
late risers take their place in front of him. One morning, he simply kicked
their buckets out of the way and took his place at
the head of the line. No one stopped him. Going to school
wasn't mandatory, and Andrew didn't start
until he was eight. Most of his early
education was learned at the feet of his
father and uncles, George Louder, who
ran a grocery market, and Tom Morrison, a fiery public
speaker whose working class opinions about the wealthy
antagonized powerful people. Young Andrew would
learn there was a price to pay for his Uncle Tom
Morrison's confrontations with political foes. From his bedroom window,
Andrew could see the tree line of the beautiful Pittencrieff
Estate, which contained ruins from the historical legacy
of Mary Queen of Scots. Just once a year, the
owner of the estate allowed the public to come
in and stroll the grounds, with one exception. He barred anyone
related to a Morrison. And so Andrew was
forced to stay outside while all of his playmates were
allowed to go into the park. The pain of this annual
event in his young life would forever color
Carnegie's attitudes about his personal right
to freedom of expression and his belief in the
equality of all men. By the winter of 1847,
another kind of pain would threaten the Carnegie
family, which now included his brother Tom, born in 1843. Despite Margaret's
valiant efforts, they faced the prospect
of soup lines to survive. Against everyone's advice, she
decided to uproot the family and emigrate to America,
where she had relatives living in Pittsburgh. 12 year old Andrew was afraid of
leaving the only home he'd ever known. He would later write of his
departure from Scotland, I remember I stood
with tearful eyes as my beloved Dunfermline
vanished from view. Andrew had never seen the
sea when they booked passage on the converted whaling
ship, the Wiscasset, bound for America. On May 17, 1848, as
the family boarded, a distraught Andrew had to
be carried onto the ship by a sailor. On board, families
were segregated by sex and all the passengers
endured steerage conditions. Packed together and poorly fed,
many were sick the entire 50 day journey to New York. But Carnegie, as he would
all his life, adapted. He learned everything
he could about the ship and was quickly
trusted by the sailors to help with their work. Soon, he was even a guest at
their special Sunday dinners. As they arrived at
the New York docks, the family was met by a
barrage of sales agents hawking fares up the Hudson
River through the Erie Canal. The sheer size of
America was overwhelming. Margaret, who was
nearly penniless, had no idea it was still so
far to their final destination. She bargained hard for
the cheapest tickets. Finally, after two
months of hardship, the Carnegies arrived by paddle
wheel steamer in Pittsburgh where they were
met by relatives. They settled in a
back alley house in the Allegheny slum
known as Slab Town. And once again, faced
the battle to survive. Andrew was 13. And his school days were over. He got a job for $1.20 a week
in the isolated boiler room of a thread factory. He might have ended up in
the dead end of child labor but for the one thing that
pursued Andrew all his life, luck. Playing a game in
a tavern, an uncle happened to hear that the
O'Reilly Telegraph was looking for a messenger. He mentioned it to
Andrew, who got the job. The first thing
he did was learn every street in
downtown Pittsburgh and every business man in
every house on the street so he got the reputation
of delivering the message as the telegram's faster
than anybody else. NARRATOR: Becoming a messenger
expanded Andrew's world and his circle of friends. With other Scottish
immigrants, he helped create the
Webster Debate Society where he could hash over the
burning issues of the day. And he found ways to
use his lowly job. When the Pittsburgh
Theater had the telegram, Andrew arranged to deliver
it during the play. He persuaded the management to
let him watch from the balcony. He memorized entire
acts of Shakespeare, which he could recite while
playing all the parts. Between deliveries, Andrew hung
around the telegraph office. He not only learned Morse
code, but his agile mind also mastered changing
new technology, which he turned to his advantage. JOSEPH WALL: When the
telegraph message came in, it had to be put on a magnetic
tape and then the tape translated. Carnegie is probably the second
person in the United States who could get the message just
by listening to the differences between the dits and the dots. NARRATOR: Andrew was quickly
promoted to full time operator, and then made responsible
for receiving foreign news. He was so obsessed by the
job that he got annoyed if the transmission broke
down and had to be resent. He preferred to guess
at the missing bits and fill in the details himself. Who knows how much
of Pittsburgh's news sprang from the imagination
of a 16-year-old? Andrew worked long hours. He had to. He had replaced his father
as the family breadwinner. William was never able
to adapt to his new life, and the family continued
to suffer in poverty. In contrast, Andrew seemed
to feed on the energy of his adopted country. He would walk five miles after
work to learn double entry bookkeeping. The only libraries that
existed were private. But when one was opened
to schoolchildren, Carnegie read anything he
could get his hands on, until one day, the privilege
of using the library was taken away. KENNETH MILLER: He couldn't
use it because he was a working child, instead of in school. And he immediately dashed
off a letter to the newspaper anonymously saying that
he thought that it was the will of the donor that
the library be open to all of the children of Pittsburgh. And indeed they
opened the library. He found the power of
the pen compelling. And from then on, he
was never without a pen, or indeed without a book. NARRATOR: Andrew had fought for
his love of learning and won. But as much as this
victory thrilled him, he was witnessing a personal
defeat that would mark him forever. Andrew's increased
responsibilities required that he traveled
throughout Pennsylvania. He found himself working the
same territory as his father, who chose to peddle his meager
output of linens up and down the Allegheny River. JOSEPH WALL: It was there one
day that Andrew met his father. Andrew had a state
room on the boat. His father, with his
packet of linens, was sleeping out on
the deck that night. And there is a poignant
meeting of the two. Here is a successful young
boy, 18 years old, and here is a father defeated
by the modern world. NARRATOR: Andrew
loved his father, but despised the
failure he represented. On the other hand, Andrew
revered his mother. She was demanding and
tough, forging in her son an iron will to succeed. Her role in
molding his character should never be underestimated. Andrew himself was devoted
to her in every respect, and he deeply loved his mother. NARRATOR: But even this
formidable mother and son team could not prevent
the inevitable. Broken by years of
failure, Will Carnegie died on October 2nd,
1855, leaving Andrew as the source of support
for his brother and mother. But Andrew was not
afraid of the future. One day, he came home and
found his mother crying. When he asked her why, she
told him the move to America had been a mistake. And at that point,
Andrew said, don't worry, mother, someday I will get
a carriage with fine horses and we'll ride down the street. NARRATOR: Their hardship
had bonded mother and son with a strength no one
could come between. But Andrew wasn't earning
the kind of money that makes such fairy tales come true. However, he was about
to make a decision that would change his life forever. In the early 1850s, America
was caught up in the excitement of expansionism. Railroads pushed westward. Andrew saw that
his adopted country was a land of opportunity. In 1852, Pennsylvania
Railroad executive Tom Scott offered Andrew a chance to
leave the security of O'Reilly Telegraph to become
his assistant. He took the risk,
gambling that one day he could become a manager
instead of an employee. Andrew realized he'd need
to improve his social skills to excel in these
new surroundings. KENNETH MILLER: He formed a
relationship with a young woman in Pennsylvania to be trained in
social graces, which accounted later for his success at the
dinner table in the homes in Pittsburgh. NARRATOR: As Andrew
honed his business skills at the Pennsylvania
Railroad, the country was facing the problems which
would lead to the Civil War. The issue, equality
for all versus slavery. Carnegie hitched his political
allegiance to a working class politician from Illinois,
Abraham Lincoln. There was never any question
in great grandfather's mind about the issue of
slavery and abolition. He was a fierce abolitionist. And it was certainly consistent
with every other aspect of his life. He believed in the genius
of the human spirit and the human mind. NARRATOR: By 1859,
Andrew Carnegie had been promoted to the
head of the Western Division of the Pennsylvania Railroad. He was 24 years old,
well on his way to being an accomplished executive. But his boss Tom Scott was
about to teach Andrew his most important lesson in business. How capitalism works. Scott would loan Andrew $600 to
invest in Adams Express stock. To cover the collateral,
Andrew's mother agreed to put up the only
thing they had, their home. And while Carnegie's
first dividend check was for only $10,
it was a revelation. He wrote, the money was
something I had not worked for with the sweat of my brow. Eureka, I cried,
here's the goose that lays the golden eggs. Using his dividends
and whatever money he could squeeze from
his railroad salary, Carnegie invested in businesses
he knew, like the telegraph. Or in companies associated
with the railroad. He recognized that railroad
expansion meant longer trips, and correctly
guessed that people would want to use the new
invention, the sleeping car. He thought the
design was ingenious. The comfort of a fold
out bed at night, converting to a
spacious lounge by day. Carnegie backed his
belief with an investment in the Woodruff
Sleeping Car Company. A move which was the real
beginning of the Carnegie fortune. He would later say the first
considerable sum I ever made was from this source. Blessed be the man
who invented sleep. As war threatened the country,
Tom Scott, Andrew's mentor, asked him to join
President Lincoln's team of civilian advisors
in Washington. Andrew was put in charge
of telegraph communications for the first real battle of the
Civil War, the Battle of Bull Run. JOSEPH WALL: Andrew was
riding along on a train and saw that one place,
southern sympathizers had pulled the
telegraph lines down and were holding
them with a stake. And Andrew leaped
off the hand car, went over and
pulled up the stake and the telegraph wire came
zooming up past his face and cut him across the cheek. He always claimed he was the
first casualty of the Battle of Bull Run. NARRATOR: But it was the
hundreds of other casualties from the battle that
would mark him forever, leading to his later
conviction that war must become as obsolete as cannibalism. After his war experience,
Carnegie returned to Pittsburgh and went back to work for
the Pennsylvania Railroad. But his passion was capitalism. In a series of investments
which often included his younger brother Tom, Carnegie
began taking chances. He pulled off a merger with the
Pullman Sleeping Car Company, being careful to negotiate
controlling interest. He was always fascinated
by new technology. So when an inventor showed him
how wooden bridges could be replaced by ones made of
iron, he became a partner in the Keystone Bridge Company. The first big step
in what would become his passionate commitment to
iron and eventually steel. By 1865, Carnegie's
investments were so successful that he resigned from the
Pennsylvania Railroad. It was the last salaried
position he would ever hold. By 1867, Andrew was doing so
well that he and his mother moved to New York,
a city he considered the center of the world. They moved into the
luxurious St. Nicholas Hotel where Margaret could finally
have her extravagant lifestyle. But Andrew hungered for a
different kind of fulfillment. His business connections and
substantial wealth certainly entitled him the membership
in New York's elite society. But he wasn't interested in
people or events which simply glorified money. JOSEPH WALL: He liked to
collect poets, and essays, and novelists, and scientists. Whereas, other men of great
wealth, like JP Morgan or Henry Clay Frick, or the Rockefellers
were gathering art, Carnegie gathered intellectuals. NARRATOR: Andrew began
increasingly running his businesses, which were
largely centered in Pittsburgh, from afar. He sold bonds in the financial
markets of England and France, selling an incredible $30
million worth in five years. But then he simply stopped
selling bonds because he didn't like trading paper and
speculating on the achievement of others. For Andrew, making the
product was important, just as it had been for his father. Even so, he was a
very rich young man. In 1868, when he
was 33, Carnegie added up his investments
and was astonished to find he had a guaranteed
annual income of $50,000 in a time when a bottle of
milk delivered to your doorstep cost a nickel. One late December night in
a note he wrote to himself, he debated the very personal
question of whether he would continue making money
or devote himself to the betterment of mankind. He resolved that by age 35, he
would turn all his attentions to education, writing,
and philanthropy. Nobody was watching
over his shoulder, certainly, as he
wrote that letter. But in the end, he was
able fairly quickly to put aside the notion that
he would step out of business. Because he just felt the
rush of the enterprise. NARRATOR: He was consumed by it. By 1869, when the
last spike was driven in the new
transcontinental railroad, Carnegie had begun
a business strategy of vertical organization. He wanted ownership of
the resources he needed, their delivery system,
and the final manufacture of the product. He had always had a wide
variety of investments, but vertical organization
began to alter his business philosophy so much that one day
he would sum it up by saying, put all your eggs in one basket
and then watch that basket. Carnegie's basket would
be woven of steel. And an 1872 trip to England
revealed how it would be made. Until then, steel was
made in small crucibles and production was
measured in pounds. The invention of a forced air
system known as the Bessemer Steel process promised
production measured in tons. Carnegie, as he did so
often, saw the future in this technology
and hired the people who could make the future his. KENNETH MILLER: Great
grandfather always said that if you took from him
all of his railroads and all of his steel mills
and all of his money and left him his people, that he
could rebuild Carnegie Company in four years. I think he really believed that
the people were always the key to his success. The genius of the people
he surrounded himself with. NARRATOR: The managers
Carnegie hired often worked for
him all their lives. They supervised wave after wave
of newly arrived immigrants who paid the price of loyalty
with their backbreaking work. In just 24 years,
Carnegie himself, once an exploited
victim of child labor, now commanded thousands
of low paid employees within the growing
empire of Carnegie Steel. He insisted on plowing
money back into expansion, pressuring his junior partners
into giving up their profits for the sake of growth. He was ferocious
about cutting costs, and yet, any innovation
to improve production was immediately installed. JOSEPH WALL: He built a
magnificent new blast furnace. It cost several million dollars. And Andrew said,
isn't this a miracle? Isn't this wonderful? And his Chief Superintendent,
Charlie Schwab said, oh, it's a
fine blast furnace. But if I had known what I know
now, I would have built it differently and I could
have saved 1/10 of one cent on every ton of steel we make. And Andrew calculated
quickly in his mind the number of tons of
steel they were making. He said, tear it down. We'll build it the way it
should have been built. NARRATOR: In just over
30 years, Carnegie had risen from a
penniless immigrant to become a captain of industry. Only five foot three,
this charming bachelor, nevertheless, towered over New
York's thriving social scene. A true optimist, Carnegie
would often sign off his correspondence
with the phrase, all is well since
all grows better. But in 1880, Andrew
came up against a force that he had never before
encountered in his life. In the spring of 1880, life
for 44-year-old Andrew Carnegie was a far cry from the
poverty of his youth. He was now a
multi-millionaire who owned a string of fine horses. He was fond of riding in
Central Park where he was often accompanied by
well-bred young women. But then, he found
himself increasingly asking just one woman, Louise
Whitfield, to be his companion. Of his first great
love, he would write, other young ladies
were on my list. In the end, the others
faded into ordinary beings. Miss Whitfield remained
alone as the perfect one beyond any I had met. BARBARA LAWSON: Grandma
and grandpa did many things together. But because he had promised
his mother, Margaret Morrison Carnegie, not to
marry in her lifetime, they did-- they just
had the friendship and kept it that way. Although, they talked about-- and they were engaged off
and on once in a while. But it was never
left-- it was secret. It was kept secret. NARRATOR: In 1881, Andrew
planned a coach trip through Britain that was to be
the fulfillment of the moment in a splendid coach
pulled by fine horses that Andrew had promised
his mother so many years ago in the desperation of
the Pittsburgh slums. The highlight of the trip was a
triumphant return to Scotland, and the gift of his first
library, a heartfelt gesture to his beloved hometown. ERIC SIMPSON: As a
coach came up the hill, they stopped for a
time at a small cottage where Carnegie had been born,
and Andrew Carnegie's eyes, of course, filled with tears. And then you can continue
up into the High Street where there are cheering crowds
come along to see and welcome this generous Scottish American. NARRATOR: But back in America,
the mid-1880s became extremely difficult. Andrew's on and
off relationship with Louise deteriorated. There were business problems. The staple of his company,
manufacturing and selling rails, slowed dramatically
as the railroad expansion drew to a close. 1886 was the darkest
time of Carnegie's life. First, his brother
fell ill in Pittsburgh. Over the years Tom
had not responded well to the constant pressure Andrew
applied to his businesses. And he had taken
increasingly to drinking. Then his mother, Margaret,
developed pneumonia and was housebound. Within days of each other,
Tom and Margaret died. KENNETH MILLER: Tom and
Andrew's mother's death hit him very hard. He was sick himself at the time. He almost died. He took months to recuperate. NARRATOR: Eventually,
Andrew poured himself back into his work. Although, he felt the
loss of his mother, he was also free of his vow not
to marry until she had passed away. Finally, after seven
years of courtship, 51-year-old Andrew married
29-year-old Louise. LINDA HILLS: I think it was
a marriage born in heaven. Her beliefs were
the same as his, their standards were the same,
their goals were the same. And she just helped him
go where he wanted to go, because she also
wanted him to go there. NARRATOR: She also shared
one of his strongest beliefs that money should not
be left to family. Instead, in this rare
recording of his own voice, he speaks of his responsibility
toward the less fortunate. The man of wealth, thus
becoming the newest trustee and agent for his
poorer brethren is bringing to their service
his superior wisdom, experience, and ability to administer. NARRATOR: But Carnegie's
lofty thoughts about dispensing his wealth
were little comfort to the men, women, and children whose
work created that wealth. Their inheritance was a struggle
to survive on $2.50 daily wages with no pensions or benefits. Their perceptions
of Andrew Carnegie were forged by the 12 hour
days, seven days a week, that were the rule
in plants owned by their boss and his industrial
partners, like Henry Frick. GEORGE DEBOLT: You'd see men
with no hands, men missing arms, missing legs. What was even more
pathetic is you'd see kids, because you could work in
the mill as a 12-year-old. Carnegie knew what
the conditions were like in the mills. He had visited the mills. He'd been in Homestead. And so did Frick. And they knew what was going on. And let it continue. Because it simply
increased their profits. NARRATOR: Finally in 1889,
at the Bessemer Steel Plant in Homestead,
Pennsylvania, labor fought back with the only
weapon it had, a strike. But management
had all the power, and an agreement was
hammered out fairly easily by Carnegie's major
partner, Henry Clay Frick. GEORGE DEBOLT: And if you didn't
like the job, they'd shove you. Because there were
literally thousands of other people wanting to get
jobs in the Homestead works. NARRATOR: For years, Carnegie
had managed his holdings without having to be there. But perhaps with his
brother Tom now gone, too much power was resting
with his junior partners. In Carnegie's absence, Henry
Frick was running the company. In 1892, the labor
agreement was up and workers throughout
the industry wondered if the union would
stand up for their rights. The press picked
up on the story, little suspecting they'd soon
be using words like murder, treason, and tragedy, to
describe events at Homestead. JOSEPH WALL: Carnegie, when he
left for Scotland in the spring of 1892, left orders with
Frick to break the union. The difficulty in understanding
what really happened between Carnegie
and Frick and who is chiefly responsible for
the tragedy of Homestead, is that Carnegie
said, use any methods you need to break the union. We will back you. NARRATOR: Carnegie's
understanding was that they would simply close
the plant until the workers caved in. Frick took a more
aggressive approach in plans that he did not
table to Carnegie. Frick built a fence
around the Homestead plant and topped it with wire. At the end of June,
he shut down the plant as he'd been instructed. But he also contracted to hire
300 private Pinkerton guards. It would be needed to keep order
if he brought in scab workers. Years before, Carnegie
had published his thoughts on the rights of labor. He was proud of his
working class roots, and he had written that
workers had the right to form trade associations,
just as employers did. He also wrote about
scab labor, that no one should take his neighbor's job. But now his words were
being taunted as lies, and his proud name was
about to be linked forever with one of the darkest moments
in the history of US labor. By late June of 1892, the
labor trouble at Homestead had reached a boiling point. Carnegie vacationed in
Scotland while negotiations with the union broke down. A fence topped with barbed
wire stood between the workers and their jobs. On July 1st, Henry Frick
closed the Homestead plant, and then Frick made
a fateful decision. He contacted the Pinkerton
Detective Agency. In the early morning
darkness of July 6th, 300 Pinkerton guards were
secretly floating on barges down the Monongahela River. They'd been hired
to occupy the plant, and their plan was to slip
ashore at the Homestead landing. GEORGE DEBOLT: My
grandfather, George Debolt, was one of the strikers. And of course, on
July the 6th, he was much more than a striker. He was a defender of his job and
also his family, his nine month pregnant wife, his future
son, their community, and their way of life. NARRATOR: The
Pinkerton boats were spotted passing under a bridge. An angry mob met
them at the dock. Shots were fired. A Homesteader was killed. After 12 hours of
fighting, the Pinkertons were trapped on a burning barge. They begged to surrender
and were led toward jail. GEORGE DEBOLT: They had to walk
a gauntlet of not just steel workers, but their wives, their
children, they were furious. And proceeded to attack
these Pinkertons, and three of the Pinkertons
got killed during this running of the gauntlet. And all of the
Pinkerton detectives were injured in some way. NARRATOR: The state
militia was called in. Before it was over,
10 people had died. Union leaders were rounded up,
including George Debolt, who was charged with
treason and murder. GEORGE DEBOLT: He was
thrown into jail, tried, acquitted by a sympathetic
jury, but blackballed from ever working in the mill. NARRATOR: Other strikers
met the same fate as Debolt. Before the end
of July, the plant reopened. New, unskilled workers
were hired at lower wages to replace former employees. Given no choice,
many former strikers broke ranks with their union,
trying to get their jobs back. Carnegie Steel seized the chance
to break the union completely. Company spies were everywhere. JOSEPH WALL: That was probably
the most dreadful place in America, a place
of terror and fear. NARRATOR: Carnegie
returned to Pittsburgh. He was appalled by the
violence and the deaths. No one knows how much Frick
told him by transatlantic cable, but Carnegie never
trusted Frick again. Carnegie tried to make amends by
providing community facilities. GEORGE DEBOLT: I think
that Andrew Carnegie made the library in Homestead so
magnificent because he felt guilty. He felt guilty as hell
that men were killed and that so many
people were injured. And this was his way of
attempting to maybe make peace with the community. NARRATOR: But the
damage was forever done. The glory Carnegie so enjoyed
in becoming a public figure now turned against him. Cartoons of the day turned
his words of tribute to labor into cruel jokes
as they ridiculed him. KENNETH MILLER: The most
important business failure of his life, and it haunted
him throughout his life, was of course the
events at Homestead. I mean, you can't-- I mean, he was the boss. So I mean, you can't
absolve him of all of the-- all of the blame. NARRATOR: However, the bottom
line was that Carnegie won and labor costs
were cut further. Profits increased dramatically. Carnegie's holdings became mind
boggling when massive iron ore deposits were
discovered in Minnesota. Carnegie leased them. Rail and shipping
lines were needed to get that ore to Pittsburgh. Carnegie controlled them. When armor plating was needed
as the country decided to equip a standing army,
Carnegie, the pacifist, was also a pragmatist. He invested. Carnegie Steel's products were
used in building the greatest landmarks of the time-- the
Brooklyn Bridge, New York skyscrapers, the
Washington Monument. The numbers were incredible. The Carnegie company,
which was supposedly valued at $25 million was
returning yearly profits over $20 million. But all this would pale beside
events in his personal life. LINDA HILLS: A dear friend
of my great grandfather's had lost his wife in childbirth. And that was not uncommon. And, therefore, he
did not want to risk losing his beloved Louise. And so they did
not have children. But she contracted typhoid
fever and was extremely ill. And during this time,
she took a pillow and cradled it and rocked it. And it was like she had a baby. And her doctor said to
my great grandfather that should she
survive this fever, that she must be
allowed to have a child. And so on March 30, 1897,
Carnegie became a father at age 62. Louise named their daughter
Margaret after Andrew's mother. Andrew wanted a special place
for his new family to call home and he found it in the
ruins of Skibo Castle in northern Scotland. Carnegie's renovation
provided unheard of comforts, like central heating. He hired local contractors
to restore the stone walls and add stained glass windows. When he was done, life at Skibo
was like stepping into a fairy tale. BARBARA LAWSON:
Coming to Skibo, there would be a piper on circular
lawn in front of the house. And the castle itself was
extraordinarily beautiful, but very homey. At night, the piper would come
and pipe everyone into dinner. And grandma and grandpa, they
paired up with their guests, and let everyone in
to the dining hall. NARRATOR: A frequent
visitor to Skibo, King Edward VII of England,
once offered to honor Carnegie by making him a knight. Andrew's reply was, why would
I want to be a knight when I'm already the prince of steel? And in fact, entrepreneurs
like Rockefeller and Carnegie had taken on the luster
of American Royalty. But they were
still ruthless men. The 1800s were about to end. Whether they should be
known as robber barons or industrial statesmen,
the empire builders who had shaped the
country's destiny prepared for the battles
of the 20th century. But soon, the prince of
steel would stand alone. He was about to make the most
profound decision of his life. Turn of the century New York
was alive with the possibilities of horseless carriages, mass
production, and a standard of living unprecedented
in history. Carnegie was involved in a
bitter dispute with Henry Frick over buying out Frick's shares. The battle threatened the
stability of the company. As a solution, one of Carnegie's
partners, Charles Schwab, secretly met with
financier JP Morgan and suggested the unthinkable-- selling the Carnegie holdings. When Morgan expressed interest,
Schwab worked up the courage to approach Carnegie. LINDA HILLS: My
great grandfather listened and didn't
say very much and went home and thought
about it that afternoon and that night. And then the next day-- and I think this is just
wonderful-- on just a piece of paper he wrote down
the price he wanted and how he wanted it paid. And he sent it off with
a courier to JP Morgan and it was a done deal. NARRATOR: In January of 1901,
JP Morgan came to the house, shook Carnegie's hand
and said, Mr. Carnegie, I want to congratulate you on
being the world's richest man. The total price for Carnegie
Company and its holdings, $480 million. About $12 and 1/2 billion
in today's economy. Carnegie placed $300 million
in bonds in a New Jersey vault to bankroll his
future endowments. BARBARA LAWSON:
Grandpa's philosophy of giving was that a gift
should be given but shared with the people who were the
benefactors of that gift. And so he would
give the libraries, but he would expect them to come
to the community and the people to give the books. And this way, they would
have more appreciation and take better care of the
gift that he had given them. NARRATOR: Andrew only
wanted to help people who wanted to help themselves. The requests he
most loved to grant were for his beloved libraries. The free public library did
not exist in the 19th century. There were private libraries and
there were society libraries. It was Carnegie's
devotion to this treasure he discovered in childhood
that helped establish the system which exists today. Giving on this scale
had never been done. And Carnegie discovered
that giving away his money was nearly as much
work as making it. A note from his friend Mark
Twain addressed to St. Andrew summed up the problem. It said, "Could you lend
an admirer $1 and a half to buy a hymn book with? God will bless you. I feel it. I know it. PS, Don't send the hymn
book, send the money. I want to make the
selection myself." Perhaps nothing
his money could buy would touch his soul as much
as the gift he bought himself on Christmas Eve 1902. For 45,000 pounds, Andrew
purchased the estate he had been forbidden to visit
outside his boyhood window. He wrote, "My new
title beats all. I am Laird of Pittencrieff,
the most sacred spot to me on earth." The joys of Carnegie's life
centered around Skibo Castle. In his 60s, he took up golf. He had, however, the same
passion for recreation he showed in business. LINDA HILLS: My great
grandfather really enjoyed winning the golf games,
and he was not a particularly gracious loser. And so some of the more
familiar guests at Skibo were tipped off that
perhaps it might behoove them to let him win. NARRATOR: Andrew basked in
the pleasure of his family that came to him
so late in life. Giving away his fortune
began to consume too much of his precious time. So he established
foundations for that task. The grandest of these,
the Carnegie Corporation, he endowed with $125
million in 1911. The one great dream that eluded
Carnegie was global peace. He believed that if he could get
his friend Kaiser Wilhelm, who ruled Germany, to meet with
the other heads of state in Europe and American
leaders, like Teddy Roosevelt, a lasting peace could be found. But the industrial world fueled
by nationalism and expansionism was a more cynical place. His efforts were
ridiculed in the press. Even his philanthropy
had its critics. Such generosity had never
even been attempted before, and it generated skepticism. Just as Carnegie believed
he was close to achieving a meaningful conference of
leaders on the prospects for peace, World War I erupted. It broke his heart. JOSEPH WALL: He was never
the same person after that. He had been remarkably young
in spirit, even though he was-- he was nearly 80 when
the war broke out. But when the war
came, he suddenly became very old and
tired and sick man. NARRATOR: The war
meant leaving Skibo. He and Louise settled in a
house known as Shadow Brook in Massachusetts. On April 22, 1919, in
his last public act, he walked his daughter
down the aisle in marriage. Four months later
on August 11th, Andrew Carnegie
died in his sleep. But Carnegie's death would
not destroy his legacy. His wife Louise, who
inherited $39 million continued their philanthropic
work until her death in 1946. The family kept the summer home
at Skibo until World War II. His daughter, Margaret,
had four children. And today there are 50 direct
descendants of Andrew Carnegie. True to their great
grandfather's beliefs, none of his children
inherited the vast fortunes that were the legacy of
other wealthy industrialists. KENNETH MILLER: Their heritage
is richer than anything that he might have left
the family in dollars. I am absolutely proud to
be part of that heritage. And the fact that-- that the work goes on, that
he had a sense for building institutions that
would survive, that's an extraordinary achievement. I think 20 of the
22 institutions which he founded are
still in existence and still doing good work. NARRATOR: Today, the
Carnegie Corporation is dedicated to helping
the world's children. And it has assets of
over a billion dollars. The institutions, which bear
his name, like Carnegie Mellon University or any of the
3,000 libraries worldwide, foster his belief in education. And performing at Carnegie
Hall remains the ultimate goal for many artists. LINDA HILLS: I would say most
people in the United States in one way or another probably
completely unknown to them have had their lives touched by money
that was earned by my great grandfather. Even children watching
"Sesame Street," the Carnegie Corporation gave-- funded that. And so in ways unknown
and in wonderful ways, he has touched and continues
to touch incredible numbers of lives in a very positive way. NARRATOR: And if
the prince of steel were around today, how
would he assess his kingdom? Would he regret the hardships
endured by his labor force upon whose backs he
built the fortune? Or would Andrew Carnegie
sum up his legacy by saying, as so often he did
in life, "All is well since all grows better." Carnegie's favorite inscription,
which you can see today on some of the
libraries he built was, "Let there be light." That simple phrase was
the guiding principle behind his philanthropy. Carnegie used his money to
create institutions that benefit children today
and will benefit children for generations to come.
