United States Steel: A Corporation with a Soul. Arundel Cotter
full. Prices were cut—and wages with them; steel was “dumped” on foreign markets at less than manufacturing cost, and steel makers resorted to every means that offered to divert orders from competitors to themselves. It was case of dog eat dog, and failures, with their unavoidable accompaniment of unemployed labor, were all too frequent.
These were the days when the steel “pools” flourished. These pools were simply attempts on the part of the steel makers—who thoroughly realized that the killing competition just described could benefit no one—to protect themselves in times of stress by binding each other not to sell below a certain price or more than a specified tonnage, and by making it of no avail, from a viewpoint of profit, to do so. There were rail pools and wire pools, shafting pools and plate pools, structural pools, horseshoe pools, and in fact a separate and distinct pool for nearly every steel product made. These pools were merely treaties, but treaties in which no participant trusted the other and which consequently were usually broken by each as soon as the opportunity to get ahead of his fellow pool member presented itself—lest the other should get a similar opportunity first and take advantage of it.
It is doubtful if a single pool agreement, and their number was infinite, was ever honestly kept. Old steel makers chuckle to-day as they relate how each representative of a company taking part in a pool sought to gain an advantage over his competitors while the agreement was yet a-borning. Listening to them one begins to wonder if these were indeed men who bore high and honorable reputations in the business world.
According to the statements of men who themselves took part in pools it was no uncommon thing for a manufacturer to station a salesman outside the building where a conference was being held and, as soon as a price settlement was reached, to stroll casually over to a window and by pre-arranged signal indicate to him the level agreed on, whereupon the salesman would proceed to undercut the price which his employer was even then pledging himself to maintain.
“Every man’s hand was against his neighbor then; we were all Ishmaelites, every one of us,” said John Stevenson, Jr., a veteran who had worked under Carnegie, in his testimony in the Federal suit for the dissolution of the Corporation. Mr. Stevenson then went on to relate the story of a wire pool conference at which a price of $1.50 a keg for nails had been agreed on. After the morning conference he went to the telegraph office to wire his partner and found one of his fellow conferees there. He waited until the other had handed in his message and walked away. While Stevenson was writing his own wire the operator, in mistake, handed him his competitor’s, asking him to decipher a word. And Stevenson discovered that the message was an offer to a large consumer to sell him 10,000 kegs of nails at $1.40! Whereupon he tore up the paper and substituted a bid of his own at the same price and got the order!
Another instance, related by a large consumer, shows how these agreements were evaded. He said that the company from which he purchased his supplies of steel pleaded the force of a pool agreement as an excuse against giving him a discount from the market price. He then suggested that he be appointed agent of the steel company in his town at a commission of a dollar a ton and this solution of the difficulty was agreed to. He was the only consumer of steel in the town and the commission was only a round-about way of giving him the discount asked.
In the fierce and bitter struggle that was the steel trade only the most daring or the most unscrupulous manufacturer could survive, and under the strain for production that it necessitated only the strongest workers could live. No one, unless he has been through a steel plant, can imagine the conditions under which the steel maker works. The visitor, unaccustomed to the heat that is flung from blast furnace or rolling mill as from the gates of hell, must perforce hold his hands before his face at times to mitigate the frying sensation. True, much has been done of recent years to make the lot of the man at the furnace or rolling mill easier, his work less trying on his health. But at the time of which this is written such was not the case. Under the most favorable conditions the steel mill, as a well-known steel maker said once, is far from being a drawing room. Under the conditions that prevailed toward the end of the last century, when men were worked to the breaking point in the mad fight for “tonnage,” it was no wonder that the majority of steel workers collapsed early under the strain and were thrown on the human scrap pile, their vitality sapped and their youth gone.
The one slogan of the industry then was “tonnage.” Everything was sacrificed by the manufacturer to this single end. Machinery, comparatively new, was scrapped to make room for more modern equipment. Waste of this kind was not considered. Production was everything, and nothing was spared to obtain increased output. And it must be admitted that to this attitude on the part of producers, as much perhaps as to her immense natural advantages, the United States owed her rapid rise to the front rank of steel nations.
In the middle of the nineteenth century American steel making was in its infancy. In fact, this is also true of the steel industry of the whole world, for it was about this time that William Kelly in America and Henry Bessemer in England discovered what is known as the Bessemer process, which made the metal available for the numberless commercial uses to which it is now put. As late as the early sixties the idea of using steel for railroad rails was scoffed at. In 1867 there were only three Bessemer plants in this country and open-hearth, the steel of to-day, was unknown. Great Britain supplied the world’s steel. But shortly after the third quarter of the century was passed the United States forged to the lead, and has held it ever since. In the year 1900 the steel production of this country was 10,188,329 tons, Germany coming next with 6,645,869 tons, and Britain third with a production of 4,901,060 tons. In 1913 the United States produced 31,300,874 tons of steel, or more than Britain and Germany combined. In 1917 production was 45,060,607 tons, more than two thirds the world output. To-day the rolling mills of the Pittsburgh district alone turn out more than one third of the world’s steel.
The name of Andrew Carnegie is inextricably bound up with the history of steel in the United States—and the world. “The Iron Master,” the “Steel King”—by these names he was known, and he earned them. For more than a quarter of a century Carnegie was the most important and spectacular figure in the world of steel and his name will not be forgotten so long as there is a rolling mill in Pittsburgh.
Carnegie’s rise from utter obscurity until he became the dominating figure in the leading manufacturing industry of the world reads like a page of fiction. Only the briefest sketch can be given here. Born in Dumferline, Scotland, in 1835, the future Monarch of Steel came to the United States with his father at the age of thirteen and began at the bottom of the ladder, his first job being that of bobbin boy in a cotton mill, for which he received a weekly wage of $1.20. Two years later he became a telegraph messenger and later an operator for the Pennsylvania Railroad.
The youthful Scot’s ability soon attracted the attention of Col. Thomas A. Scott, head of that great railroad system, and he made Carnegie his private secretary, thus giving him his first foothold on the ladder of fortune.
Industrious and saving Carnegie was soon in the investor class and when an opportunity arose to invest in what, it seemed to him, was an attractive business he was able to seize it, purchasing a one-sixth interest in the Iron City Forge Co. and becoming his own man.
One of his partners in the enterprise was Henry Phipps, the playmate of his boyhood and his friend through good fortune and through bad. In every one of his subsequent ventures Phipps had a share, and an important one, that of raising money to carry out Carnegie’s manufacturing plans. In Pittsburgh they say that Phipps’ horse knew every bank in town so often had his master stopped him before them when seeking loans.
Those were the days of iron. Steel was still being made only “by the spoonful.” But one day Carnegie saw in action one of the earlier Bessemer converters, the implements that gave birth to the Age of Steel, and this sight, impressive as it is even to the layman as a mere spectacle, converted him from iron to steel. His keen mind saw immediately the immense possibilities of the new process and he went into the manufacture of steel on a large and growing scale.
And his success was phenomenal. Breaking down all obstacles in his path to fortune he fought his way upward ruthlessly and became a terror to competitors.
In 1901 Carnegie sold out the steel business he had created to the organizers of the United States Steel Corporation for