THE LIFE OF MRS. ANDREW CARNEGIE By BURTON J. HENDRICK and DANIEL HENDERSON ',' "', ... "Or walk with king's'-'-1wr lose (lie common touch . . ." -Rudyard K:l'ling HASTINGS HOUSE Publishers New York 22 COPYRIGHT, 1950, BY HASTINGS HOUSE, PUBUSHERS, INC. All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced without the written permission of the publisher. 436493 .6. (cid:46) (cid:126)(cid:34).(cid:32) (cid:126)(cid:32)(cid:126)I(cid:32)t',.,;.. '." : ... (cid:126)(cid:32)'. • ' 0 \ l CONTENTS Page ix FOREWORD I. A CHILD OF OLD CHELSEA I 2. GIRLHOOD IN THE SEVENTIES 19 3· A TROUBLED CoURTSHIP 47 4· CRISIS 71 5· WEDDING TRIP ABROAD: BONCHURCH AND KILGRASTON 85 6. SUMMERS AT CLUNY CASTLE 109 7· MOTHERHOOD 135 8. THE LADY OF SKIBO 151 9· No.2 EAST NINETY-FIRST STREET 185 10. SHADOWBROOK, 1919 207 II. THE COURAGE TO Go ON 219 12. THE PLEASANTNESS OF SEVENTY 237 13· CARNEGIE CENTENARy-ITS LIVING SYMBOL 259 14· THE OTHER ROOM 279 " ILLUSTRATIONS Louise Whitfield Carnegie Frontispiece FACING PAGE Louise Whitfield at the age of six 34 Fifth Avenue, looking south from 47th Street with the Windsor (cid:0)(cid:0)(cid:0)(cid:0)(cid:0)(cid:0)(cid:0) (cid:0)(cid:0) Louise Whitfield just before her marriage 50 The Carnegies on their honeymoon, Isle of Wight, 1887 51 Mr. and Mrs. King and the Carnegies at Cluny about 1889 130 A coaching party at Cluny 131 Skibo Castle, 1901, showing the new wing built by the Carnegies 146 Mrs. Carnegie with her daughter Margaret, 1904 147 On the terrace at Skibo about 1910 178 No.2 East Ninety-first Street 179 Mrs. Carnegie's sitting-room 194 Mr. and Mrs. Carnegie in New York about 1909 195 Louise Whitfield Carnegie and her four grandchildren, 1932 242 Skibo in June 243 V1t This story of Louise Whitfield Carnegie and the times in which she lived began in her sitting room at No.2 East Ninety. first Street, New York, on a sunny winter morning in 1943. Mother was kept from her usual busy morning routine by a slight cold, but was well on the way to recovery. Sitting before the fire dressed in her lavender wool frock, she was happily crocheting a blanket for her newest great-grandchild. "I am hav· ing a holiday this morning," she said. In this mood she enjoyed talking about her early days as a girl in New York and, when it was suggested, readily agreed that these recollections should be jotted down. "Tales of a Grand- mother," she laughingly called them. Several pleasant mornings were spent in this way. Then her cold disappeared and she was again in the full swing of her active life. Her own reminiscences were never resumed. But so many diaries and letters were found among her papers that the advice of Burton J. Hendrick, who knew her well and had written the biography of her husband, Andrew Carnegie, was sought. Im- pressed with Mrs. Carnegie's individuality and many-sidedness, and with her background on two related continents, he was zx FOREWORD glad to continue her life story. He was in mid-passage with the work when his death occurred in March, 1949. He spared himself in no way in the preparation of this story of my mother, and I am grateful to him for his patient research and for the skill he dedicated to writing these informal memoirs. Not long before he died he told me that when the book was finished it would be like parting with an old friend. Fortunately there was available to carryon the biography- with the same understanding spirit-Daniel Henderson, well known for his work as a poet, and for informal biographies of persons who in their times had made some impress on life. As long-time Secretary of the Authors Club of New York, Mr. Henderson knew Mr. Hendrick; they had much in common, including a deep interest in the Carnegie family. In taking up the work, Mr. Henderson was especially guided by a remark made by a woman friend about my mother after her marriage: " ... To be the wife of a man who is not only rich in this world's goods, but whom God endowed with a powerful brain, a restless and untiring energy, and a sympathetic heart-why, that is a sphere of life wherein most would fail." His search led him to agree with Mr. Hendrick's conclusion, that Louise Whitfield Carnegie did not fail; simply, graciously, high- mindedly-her work controlled by fine executive ability-she succeeded. It is an intimate story you will read in the following pages, because any true picture of my mother, Louise Whitfield Car- negie, must show her as the center of her family. In both the land of her birth and during her summers in Scotland she was the true homemaker, and her human relationships-whether as x FOREWORD daughter, wife, mother, grandmother, or friend-came first with her always. The book has been written for her grandchildren and great- grandchildren, for her large circle of friends and, of course, for any reader wishing to know what it meant to be the wife of Andrew Carnegie. She shared to the utmost his ideals and pur- poses, yet lived a life of individuality and independence, and never ceased to make their home a place of warmth and kind- ness where spiritual rather than material values were put first. Xt · . / =' Ou CkiU ff5 CkelJea Louise Whitfield Carnegie was born three days after James Buchanan became President of the United States; her life from March 7,1857, to June 24,1946, covered a span of almost ninety years. It was a time of progressive movements and expanding horizons, and in her quiet, womanly way she had a part in them. She saw the beginning and the triumph of the crusade to give women the vote and grant them freedom to engage in almost every class of endeavor. Her growing interest in world affairs coincided with advance in travel and communications. Concerned with human welfare and international relations, as her life drew to a close she (cid:0)(cid:0)(cid:0)(cid:0)(cid:0)(cid:0)(cid:0)(cid:0) pated with joy the meeting of the fifty nations at San Francisco to form the charter for the United Nations Conference. This convention and its prospects seemed to her to seal the ideal of her husband for a harmonious union of all nations. But now for the child that was mother to the woman: It seems fitting that Louise Whitfield, one of whose (cid:0)(cid:0)(cid:0)(cid:0)(cid:0)(cid:0) nant traits was a love of children, should have been born in New York City's Chelsea, within a few hundred feet of the spot where Clement Moore wrote his merry little poem: 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a creature was stirring-not even a mouse; ... 1