American History Tellers - The Gilded Age | Rise of the Robber Barons | 2

Episode Date: July 29, 2020

In the 1870s and 1880s, businessmen clawed their way to the top of the new industrial economy, accumulating staggering fortunes. Oil tycoon John D. Rockefeller ruthlessly eliminated his rivals one by one, seizing control over the nation’s refineries. Steel magnate Andrew Carnegie revolutionized the industry with his relentless drive to cut costs. And banker J. P. Morgan conquered Wall Street, commanding vast amounts of capital to consolidate corporations.But the concentration of wealth and power had dire consequences for ordinary Americans, and in the summer of 1877 frustrated workers fought back. They blocked freight trains, shut down major rail lines and crippled the nation’s economy.The strike spread like wildfire and sparked deadly violence.Listen ad-free on Wondery+ hereSupport us by supporting our sponsors!See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can binge new seasons of American History Tellers early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Imagine it's July 1877, a sweltering summer day in Pittsburgh. You're an officer in the 6th Division of the State Militia. You've been called to put down a protest at the local Pennsylvania railroad yards. Fifty yards ahead of you, railroad workers have crowded the tracks, blocking the switches so trains can't get out. You're standing shoulder to shoulder with your fellow militiamen,

exchanging tense glances. Your commander steps up. All right, boys, you haveances. Your commander steps up. All right, boys, you have one job. Clear the tracks. You and your fellow officers stay where you are. Did you not hear me? Clear the tracks. Now, let's go. But you and your fellow officers stay where you are. Did you not hear me, men? I said clear the tracks. Enough is enough. It's time to put this strike to an end. You look at the man next to you. There's a glint in his eye that gives you courage. You drop your rifle to the ground.

No, sir, we will do no such thing. I work in the steel mill, but my brother is a railroad worker. He won't get me to clear the tracks. There are women and children in that crowd. You dare question my orders? These men work in dangerous conditions, and now the railroad is cutting their wages, all the while pulling in higher and higher profits. No, it's just not right. The commander shakes his head. I don't care what the circumstances are.

This cannot go on. This city needs its trains up and running, and we have a job to do. The workers will leave once their demands are met. We won't be any part of this. The way Penn treats its workers, I'm telling you, it's reckless, more reckless than any protest. You want to talk about reckless? Stand down, soldier. Don't make me tell you again. But you ignore him and turn around, addressing the other militiamen. Look around, men. These are our brothers and our fathers, our friends, neighbors.

Let's lay down our arms. Men murmur and cheer in assent, then gather around and drop their arms beside the tracks. Then the militiamen turn and head for the switches to join the striking workers. Well, I can see the 6th Division has no spine. I assure you the Philadelphia militia, on their way right now, do. They will not be so friendly. You can count on it.

But you ignore him and walk on with the other men. Still, there's a gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach. With militia coming from far out of town, tensions will escalate. You fear it won't be long until this ends with violence. Have you ever wondered who created that bottle of sriracha that's living in your fridge? Or why nearly every house in America has at least one game of Monopoly? Introducing The Best Idea Yet, a brand new podcast about the surprising origin stories of the products you're obsessed with. Listen to The Best Idea Yet on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts.

From the team behind American History Tellers comes a new book, The Hidden History of the White House. Each chapter will bring you inside the fierce power struggles, intimate moments, and shocking scandals that shaped our nation. From the War of 1812 to Watergate. Available now wherever you get your books. From Wondery, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American History Tellers. Our history, your story. In the summer of 1877, railroad workers in Pittsburgh went on strike, stopping all train traffic throughout the day. When sympathetic local militia refused to take action and laid down their arms, authorities called in soldiers from Philadelphia. Those reinforcements fired into the crowds, killing more than 20 people. The unrest in Pittsburgh was just one flashpoint in a wave of strikes that swept America during the summer of 1877. Tens of thousands of workers across the country rose up, paralyzing the economy and

sparking deadly violence. The Gilded Age brought astounding economic growth, industrial development, and technological innovation to the country. But throughout the era, it was big business tycoons and not the workers who reaped most of the rewards. Lax government regulations gave rise to a rush for profit, and a new industrial economy was increasingly controlled by a few powerful men. Some called them captains of industry. Others called them robains of industry. Others called them

robber barons. Oil magnate John D. Rockefeller, steelmaker Andrew Carnegie, and banker J.P. Morgan ruthlessly took down their rivals to amass staggering fortunes, and their climb to the top would radically transform the lives of millions of working Americans. This is Episode 2, Rise of the Robber Barons. In the decades after the Civil War, the new iron rails crisscrossing the continent spawned a remarkable expansion of the industrial economy. The national railroad grid tripled in mileage, and the government invested unprecedented sums of money in its expansion. The railroad allowed manufacturers to sell their goods to a national market, and it brought the country's rich natural resources, including coal, oil,

and iron, to the factory floor, helping America become a major manufacturing power. Railroads became the nation's biggest business, employing more workers than any other industry and attracting massive foreign and domestic investment. They generated vast concentrations of capital and produced enormous fortunes for tycoons and speculators. Yet despite its investment in the railroad, the government stepped back from control. And in the coming years, lax regulation paved the way for unbridled private growth

and a new class of mega-millionaires. Few of them were more famous than John D. Rockefeller. Rockefeller was born to a family of modest income in rural upstate New York. His mother was a devout Baptist. His father, a traveling salesman who peddled fake miracle cures and a secret bigamist who abandoned his family for months at a time. During these absences, money would be a constant worry as the family waited anxiously for the elder Rockefeller's return. Though he was never rich, he was obsessed with money. He loved flashing wads of cash around town, and he made enough to buy himself fine silk clothes. As a young man, John D. Rockefeller molded himself

against his father's example. He adopted his mother's piety and rigid self-discipline, refusing to drink, smoke, or swear. But he inherited his father's love of money, and he would stop at nothing in his quest to get rich. Rockefeller dropped out of high school to enroll in a business course. He got his first job as an assistant bookkeeper at age 16. Three years later, at 19, using savings and $1,000 he borrowed from his father with interest, he co-founded a company that traded in hay, grain, and meat. Young Rockefeller was cautious in his approach to business, carefully weighing his options and calculating risk. But once he decided on a course of action, he would aggressively see it through. In just the first year of business,

Rockefeller and his partner made half a million dollars, almost $16 million today. When the Civil War broke out, Rockefeller was of prime fighting age, but he paid $300 to hire a substitute to serve in his place, a common practice for those with means. Instead of fighting, he spent the war turning his diligence and business acumen into massive profits. His first break came in western Pennsylvania. There, in 1859, a prospector had struck black gold with the first commercial oil well. The discovery sparked a boom. Rockefeller sensed an opportunity. He opened an oil refinery in Cleveland, a rail hub ideally situated near the Great Lakes in the western Pennsylvania oil fields. Rockefeller would be ruthless in his drive to streamline his oil company and buy out his

rivals. But as he set out to conquer Cleveland, he quickly realized that railroads would be the linchpin to his success. Operating a refinery was cheap, but transporting oil to the refineries and kerosene to the market was expensive. So Rockefeller approached railroad executives and promised to give them huge amounts of his business, 60 carloads of refined oil per day, in exchange for shipping discounts. By persuading the railroads to keep these lower rates secret, he quickly gained a price advantage over his competition. Rockefeller believed these secret discounts were entirely justified, just as a general is justified in hiding military plans from the enemy.

And it worked. As he expanded his market share, his rivals struggled to keep up, and many surrendered their stock to him. In 1870, Rockefeller and his associates reincorporated his business as the Standard Oil Company. But even as the power of Standard Oil grew, other refiners still remained. But Rockefeller despised competition. Instead, he preached cooperation. He urged his rivals to join with Standard Oil and pools to regulate production and fix prices. In 1872, Rockefeller set out to control the Pennsylvania oil industry entirely. He partnered with Tom Scott, who ran the mighty Pennsylvania Railroad, the nation's largest.

Scott's natural charisma was his greatest strength as a businessman. Few could resist his charm offensive, and he put it to work, winning the support from manufacturers and politicians to expand his rail network. In short order, Rockefeller and Scott cobbled together a cartel of refiners and railroads to form the South Improvement Company. They divided up the market, set rates,

and drove independent refineries out of business. As word of the cartel leaked out, oil producers grew angry and boycotted the scheme. The South Improvement Company quickly collapsed, but its failure would prove to be only a minor setback in Rockefeller's quest to organize and dominate the U.S. oil industry. Rockefeller realized that conspiring with other refineries wasn't enough. He needed to think bigger. So he set out not only to organize the oil industry, he sought to own it. Imagine it's early morning in March 1872. You're the owner of a small oil

refinery in Cleveland, and you're slumped over the desk in your office staring at an intimidating stack of papers. You've been up all night looking for ways to cut costs. With Rockefeller's dominance, your dream of making it big seems more out of reach every day. But you keep trying, thinking if you could just figure out the businessman's secret. Come in. You look up from your desk as a man in a crisp suit enters your office. He's a representative for Standard Oil, and it's not the first time he's come knocking. Good morning. I was in the neighborhood, thought I'd stop by. What are you doing here again? The man ignores your question and gazes down at your cluttered desk. I see it might have been a late night. I said, what are you doing here? Well, I've come

to offer you a deal. No, I told you last time, I'm not selling. I'm not giving in to Rockefeller. The man holds up a hand to silence you. No, no, no, let me finish. Our appraisers will take a look at your books, but I'm guessing somewhere in the 400,000 range. And I don't think you're going to get a better offer than that. It'd be wise to take it. Because if you turn us down, we'll just keep undercutting you.

You know, you have a lot of nerve. And that's not all. Mr. Rockefeller is prepared to offer you a seat on the Standard Oil board. At that, your eyes widen. You can't help it. You didn't expect this. The man notices and smirks. A seat on the board. Standard Oil has one mission, and one mission only.

Absolute control of the oil business. There won't be a chance for anyone outside, but we're giving you a chance to come in. You'll turn over your refinery to our appraisers and we'll give you standard oil stock. Think of it more as a partnership than a buyout. You stand up from your desk and walk to the window, watching a pair of workers roll a barrel of crude oil outside. Partnership, you say? Yes, indeed. You can see yourself now, working side by side with Rockefeller. You hate the man, but you'd love to learn from him. Well, tell Rockefeller I think I'm ready to talk. That's a wise decision. As the man leaves your office, your head is swimming

with visions of your future. For years, you've resented Standard Oil, but you don't see any other choice. Plus, this might just be your path to the power you've always hungered for. During a six-week span in early 1872, Standard Oil rapidly swallowed up its competition. Rockefeller bought up 22 of his 26 rivals in what became known as the Cleveland Massacre. Soon, Rockefeller moved beyond Cleveland to eliminate his competitors in Pittsburgh, Philadelphia, and New York. And then, when the Panic of 1873 crippled the U.S. economy, sending thousands of businesses into bankruptcy, Rockefeller thrived, buying out his rivals at fire sale prices. When companies refused, Rockefeller cut his prices below theirs, which he sustained through his lower production and transportation costs.

Rockefeller was deeply religious, and as he built his fortune, he believed he was doing the Lord's work. Years later, he would tell an interviewer, I believe the power to make money is a gift from God. Having been endowed with the gift I possess, I believe it is my duty to make money and steal more money. And so he did. By 1877, Standard Oil controlled 90% of the oil refined in the United States. And to further edge out his competitors, Rockefeller started investing heavily in oil pipelines. But these new business ventures would put him in direct

conflict with Pennsylvania Railroad President Tom Scott, his former partner in the South Improvement Company. Scott was used to charming his enemies into submission, but that strategy fell short with the hard-charging Rockefeller. He warned Rockefeller to let the railroads handle the transport of oil and drop his pipeline scheme, but Rockefeller ignored him, and Scott fired back. He got a shipping company he frequently worked with to enter into the refining business. Rockefeller urged Scott to back down, but Scott refused. Soon, the railroad titan and the oil magnate were at war. Rockefeller was not one to go down easily. He abandoned the Pennsylvania Railroad and diverted his business to Scott's competitors.

Then he shut down his Pittsburgh refineries, which shipped on the Pennsylvania Railroad, and ramped up production in the Cleveland refineries, located beside rival lines. Soon, Scott was hemorrhaging money. To stay afloat, he slashed wages, laid off employees, and increased working hours. In May 1877, Scott imposed a 10% pay cut, followed by another 10% pay cut in June.

Scott's Pennsylvania Railroad wasn't the only railroad to face mounting losses. Rockefeller's attacks came amid a nationwide economic depression. In order to stay afloat, several other railroads alerted their employees that wages would be cut as well. After four years of this crippling depression, workers already resented their poor working conditions. These wage cuts pushed them to the breaking point. On July 15th, the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad announced a 10% pay cut, its second in just eight months. The next day, workers at the B&O station in Martinsburg, West Virginia, went on strike. They uncoupled the engines from the trains and blockaded the tracks,

refusing to back down until the wage cut was rescinded. The West Virginia governor dispatched local militiamen to free the trains, but the sympathetic militia refused to go against their neighbors and friends. So at the governor's request, President Rutherford B. Hayes dispatched federal troops to the scene. Hayes was the leader of the Republican Party, the party of big business, and he had received campaign donations from Tom Scott and other railroad executives. So Hayes took decisive action on behalf of the railroads. It was the first time that federal soldiers had been used to break a strike since Andrew Jackson's presidency. The troops quelled the protesters in Martinsburg, but strikes were rapidly spreading to other cities.

In Baltimore, 11 strikers were killed when militia fired into a crowd. On July 19th, Pennsylvania Railroad employees seized the Pittsburgh station. A local steelworker voiced his support for the striking railworkers, declaring, We're with you. I won't call employers despots. I won't call them tyrants. But the term capitalists is sort of synonymous and will do as well. As in Martinsburg, the local militia in Pittsburgh sided with the workers, so Tom Scott urged the Pennsylvania governor to call in reinforcements from Philadelphia. These new soldiers fired indiscriminately, killing more than 20 civilians,

including women and children who had come to show their support. The crowd's fury only grew. The striking workers forced the troops to retreat into a roundhouse. They tore up rail tracks and torched buildings. Fires blazed through Pittsburgh, destroying dozens of buildings, more than 100 rail engines, and more than 1,200 freight cars. Another 20 residents and five guardsmen died. Hundreds lay wounded in the streets. The violence only ended after the president deployed federal troops to the besieged city. But the strikes continued to spread like wildfire along the

country's major railroad lines, stretching all the way to San Francisco. Tens of thousands of workers walked off the job, paralyzing traffic on two-thirds of the nation's rail tracks and bringing the already limping economy to a standstill. In Chicago and St. Louis, workers from other industries joined in now-general strikes. As the work stoppage grew, it became known as the Great Railroad Strike of 1877. Workers mobilized across industries and were finally bringing their frustrations to the street. But the violent response from government and business was crushing. By August, more than 100 people lay dead and the drive for better wages and working conditions waned. The Great Railroad Strike of 1877 was the first mass strike to engulf the nation, and it had galvanized America's

working class. But its ultimate failure showed the glaring weakness of labor. Powerful corporations had the backing of government forces. Federal courts, the U.S. Army, state militias, and local police had all thrown their weight behind the interests of big business. Workers realized that if they wanted real change, they needed stronger organizations to defend against corporate might. But over the next few years, Rockefeller and others like him consolidated his empire even further. In 1882, he established the nation's first trust. Stockholders of smaller oil companies assigned their stock to the Standard Oil Board of Directors, which then controlled the operations of the former competitors. Under Rockefeller's shrewd leadership, the Standard

Trust soon had a monopoly over nearly the entire global petroleum market. But Rockefeller wasn't the only magnate towering over a booming new industry. A new empire was growing around a miracle metal, one that promised to transform the country's buildings and rail lines and bring a vast fortune to a man who had come from nothing. Richard Bandler revolutionized the world of self-help all thanks to an approach he developed called neuro-linguistic programming. Even though NLP worked for some, its methods have been criticized for being dangerous in the wrong hands. Throw in Richard's dark past as a cocaine addict and murder suspect, and you can't help but wonder what his true intentions were. I'm Saatchi Cole. And I'm Sarah Hagee.

And we're the hosts of Scamfluencers, a weekly podcast from Wondery that takes you along the twists and turns of the most infamous scams of all time, the impact on victims, and what's left once the facade falls away. We recently dove into the story of the godfather of modern mental manipulation, Richard Bandler, whose methods inspired some of the most toxic and criminal self-help movements of the last two decades. Follow Scamfluencers on the Wondery app

or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Scamfluencers and more Exhibit C true crime shows like Morbid and Kill List early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus. Check out Exhibit C in the Wondery app for all your true crime listening. Dracula, the ancient vampire who terrorizes Victorian London. Blood and garlic, bats and

crucifixes. Even if you haven't read the book, you think you know the story. One of the incredible things about Dracula is that not only is it this wonderful snapshot of the 19th century, but it also has so much resonance today. The vampire doesn't cast a reflection in a mirror. So when we look in the mirror, the only thing we see is our own monstrous abilities. From the host and producer of American History Tellers and History Daily comes the new podcast, The Real History of Dracula. We'll reveal how author Bram Stoker raided ancient folklore,

exploited Victorian fears around sex, science, and religion, and how even today we remain enthralled to his strange creatures of the night. You can binge all episodes of The Real History of Dracula exclusively with Wondery+. Join Wondery+, and The Wondery App, Apple Podcasts, or Spotify. During the Gilded Age, steel emerged as a major driving force for the industrial expansion that transformed America. It could bear heavier loads than iron, making it a safer and cheaper building material. Steel also became essential for constructing the infrastructure that big business relied on, from countless rail tracks and factory machinery to soaring skyscrapers and stronger bridges. Until the Gilded Age, steel was scarce in America. In the 1870s, when Cornelius Vanderbilt replaced the old iron tracks of the New York Central

Railroad with stronger steel rails, he had to import his steel from Britain. But in just two decades, the United States would outpace the rest of the world in steel manufacturing, eventually producing more than one-third of the global supply. The man presiding over this dramatic transformation was Andrew Carnegie. Carnegie was born in a tiny stone cottage in Dunfermline, Scotland. His father was a talented weaver, but he fell on hard times when new steam-powered looms put him out of work. Carnegie hated to see his father out of a job and resolved that when he grew up, he would be rich, saying,

It was burnt into my heart then that my father had to beg for work, and then there came the resolve that I would cure that when I got to be a man. In 1848, when Carnegie was 12, his family sold their belongings and borrowed 20 pounds to secure passage to America in search of a better life. After a grueling journey across the Atlantic, the family landed in Allegheny, Pennsylvania, a suburb of Pittsburgh where they joined relatives. Pittsburgh was fast becoming the center of American industry, a smoke-filled city of foundries, factories, and mills.

Carnegie got a job as a bobbin boy at a cotton mill, making $1.20 a week. He took pride in bringing his wages home to his family. The following year, he was hired as a messenger for a local telegraph company, work that brought him in contact with Pittsburgh's leading men, its bankers, merchants, lawyers, factory owners, and railroad managers. He was quickly learning the value of connections, and he memorized their faces and addresses. At each step, the ambitious Carnegie seized every opportunity to advance himself. He taught himself Morse code and was soon promoted to telegraph operator.

In the early 1850s, Carnegie's work at the telegraph office brought him into contact with Tom Scott, the Pennsylvania railroad official who would one day go toe-to-toe with John D. Rockefeller. Scott was a rising star at the company, and he hired Carnegie as his personal assistant. Carnegie received his business education on the job, learning accounting, marketing, and how to cut costs in fuel and labor. He also learned the value of a timely investment. When a sleeping car manufacturer signed an exclusive contract with Pennsylvania Railroad, Scott received a kickback, and he made certain that his protege got in on the deal, too. Carnegie worked his way up the ladder to succeed Scott as superintendent of the Pittsburgh Division of the Railroad. It was 1859,

and Pittsburgh was in the midst of an oil rush. But the nation was also descending into civil war. Carnegie avoided service like Rockefeller by hiring a substitute to take his place and built his fortune during that time, investing in the growing oil industry. When the war ended and the railroad boom began, Carnegie realized that iron would be a promising field for investment. He started a company that constructed iron bridges and soon moved into production, building ironworks. All the while, Carnegie was watching developments in steelmaking technology. He was certain that he could make a fortune in stronger, more durable railroad rails made out of steel. Protective tariffs, along with generous federal and state government subsidies and loans,

helped nurture the nascent steel industry. In 1870, Congress imposed a new tariff on imported steel, and British steel mills lost their competitive advantage. The door was suddenly opened for an American manufacturer to build a domestic steel empire. Two years later, in the summer of 1872, Carnegie traveled to Sheffield, England, where he was dazzled by a new steel refining method. For years, steel had been expensive to produce and could be only made in small quantities, but in England, Henry Bessemer had realized that blasting air through molten iron could burn away impurities to produce reliably strong steel. His steel was produced in large batches on giant converters, a more efficient process that required fewer workers. The Bessemer process promised to revolutionize

the steel industry by allowing manufacturers to produce the stronger metal on a mass scale. Carnegie had found his calling. He later reflected that the secret to success is to put all your eggs in one basket and watch that basket. So Carnegie would devote his energies into making himself the master of American steel manufacturing. He brought the Bessemer process back to Pittsburgh in the fall of 1872, becoming a partner in a new steel mill ideally situated near three rivers and two railroads. He had learned the power of flattery, and he named the plant after a successful railroad executive, J. Edgar Thompson. Carnegie hoped this approach would lure Thompson and other investors into securing contracts for steel rails. His shrewd

tactic worked. Carnegie also brought the lessons he had learned working under Scott at the Pennsylvania Railroad to improve organization, speed, and efficiency at his mill. He became obsessive in his drive to bring down costs. Each time he heard of a new technology or piece of equipment that promised to save money long-term, he spared no time in implementing it. He installed cranes and hoists to make material handling more efficient. He enlisted teams of engineers and chemists to streamline the steelmaking process. To cut fire insurance costs, he tore down wood buildings and replaced them with iron ones. Over the next several years, Carnegie got even more creative with cost savings. He sought to control every stage of the steel production process, from the raw materials to the shipping. He bought coal fields and coke ovens to produce his own fuel. He bought up iron ore

mines in Minnesota's Mesabi Range. And he acquired steamships to carry the ore across the Great Lakes and rail lines to haul it to his Pittsburgh mills. Pioneering the tactic of vertical integration, Carnegie was able to dramatically reduce his costs and produce cheaper steel. By the 1880s, he was the undisputed king of the American steel industry. But steel wasn't created on its own. It required the muscle and sweat of countless workers. And Carnegie's relentless drive for efficiency had a human cost. Imagine it's July 1884.

You're in Carnegie's steel plant in Pittsburgh. It's an inferno in the summer heat. You're in Carnegie Steel Plant in Pittsburgh. It's an inferno in the summer heat. You and a fellow worker are piling up iron billets, and the two of you are dripping with sweat. You can feel the blazing hot floor through your worn-down, wood-soled shoes. Just then, a splatter of molten metal falls from above. Heads up! You push the other man out of the way just in time. Accidents are a constant threat here at the steel mill, and it's only gotten worse. That was a close one.

Before your co-worker can respond, the whistle blows, signaling the end of the day shift. Your manager steps forward. All right, boys, listen up. Starting next week, we're transitioning from three eight-hour shifts a day to two 12-hour shifts. You just finished an eight-hour shift, and you're tired, exhausted, and your co-worker was nearly killed. Enough is enough. You push through the throng to confront your manager. Twelve-hour shifts? That's insane. How do you expect us to do this work 12 hours a day? We can barely make it through as it is. Well, fortunately, it's not up to you. Changeover slowdown production. It's more efficient this way. It's always about efficiency, isn't it? What about safety? If you want to be safe,

you be safe. It's your job to be careful and avoid accidents. You need to focus harder. Focus harder? What about providing us with some real protective gear? We can't afford it. Most of us have to just double up on wool long johns. Your manager's face is growing red with anger, but you press on. Every day, our wives and children see us off to work, not knowing we'll make it home. And now you want us to work even harder on even less sleep. Longer hours will only mean more accidents. That's enough. Look, if you don't like it, you can get out. I can have someone in here tomorrow to replace you. All of you. But you don't move. And after a moment, your manager storms off. You and your

fellow workers share a look. Twelve-hour shifts. Boys, I think it's high time we get organized. Demand better working conditions, shorter hours. None of us wants to go home injured. How many more of us needs to die? You look at the men around you. They're weary to the bone, many of them scarred from years of injuries on the job. You can't help but think that if you don't do something soon, there won't be much left on them. As Carnegie's productivity reached new heights, safety declined. His workers kept the steel furnaces running seven days a week in grueling 12-hour shifts. Injury and death were a constant threat. Furnaces and molds exploded. Men tripped under the strain of the work or lost their eyes from falling metal. Chains broke, spilling ladles of molten metal on the men underneath.

Fast-removing machinery only increased the number of accidents. In the 1880s, 20% of male deaths in Pittsburgh were caused by accidents in the steel mills. The rise of steel also brought a growing number of unskilled workers into the labor force. While iron required a difficult process known as puddling that took years to master, an unskilled immigrant laborer could become a proficient steelworker in just a few weeks. This influx of labor and new innovations allowed Carnegie to cut back on skilled workers and reduce his workforce even further. Then, in the 1880s, Carnegie introduced natural gas as a fuel for his

mills. In one boiler house, a single worker tending a gas flame replaced 90 men who had shoveled 400 tons of coal a day. Carnegie slowly phased out the Bessemer process, too, for an open hearth furnace that improved the quality of his steel while reducing the need for manpower. Workers who resented these changes had little leverage to protest. Their jobs could always be replaced by the steady stream of unskilled immigrant workers pouring in from southern and eastern Europe. So while his workers suffered, Carnegie amassed a fortune worth hundreds of millions of dollars. He was well aware that his rise to the top had a cost, declaring, there are few millionaires, very few indeed, who are clear of the sin of having made beggars.

Carnegie was one of the few of his class to talk openly about wealth inequality, but his strict Scottish Presbyterian upbringing drove him to justify his ruthless pursuit of personal riches. He defended wealth inequality and the exploitation of workers as a necessary price to pay for the greater goal of advancing society as a whole. In 1889, he published an article known as The Gospel of Wealth, in which he justified his staggering fortune by preaching a survival-of-the-fittest philosophy. Carnegie claimed that he had risen from humble beginnings because he possessed special skills that others lacked.

He also argued that wealth could and should be used to benefit the rest of society. He focused on individual generosity rather than structural reform, calling on the rich to give back and declaring that philanthropy was the true antidote for the temporary unequal distribution of wealth. Following his own advice, he would give away vast sums of his own fortune, endowing universities and libraries and supporting scientific research. Then, at the turn of the century, Carnegie would ultimately sell his steel empire to the financial giant of the Gilded Age, making it the largest company in the world. At the helm of that company was a powerful Wall Street banker who arranged countless mergers, buyouts, and takeovers, providing the financial backing for the era. His name was Jupiter

Piermont Morgan, and his cutthroat model for corporate consolidation would help usher in the modern economy. I'm Tristan Redmond, and as a journalist, I've never believed in ghosts. But when I discovered that my wife's great-grandmother was murdered in the house next door to where I grew up, I started wondering about the inexplicable things that happened in my childhood bedroom. When I tried to find out more, I discovered that someone who slept in my room after me, someone I'd never met, was visited by the ghost of a faceless woman. So I started digging into the murder in my wife's family, and I unearthed family secrets nobody could have imagined. Ghost Story won Best Documentary

Podcast at the 2024 Ambies and is a Best True Crime nominee at the British Podcast Awards 2024. Ghost Story is now the first ever Apple Podcast Series Essential. Each month, Apple Podcast editors spotlight one series that has captivated listeners with masterful storytelling, creative excellence, and a unique creative voice and vision. To recognise Ghost Story being chosen as the first series essential, Wondery has made it ad-free for a limited time only on Apple Podcasts. If you haven't listened yet, head over to Apple Podcasts to hear for yourself. In a quiet suburb, a community is shattered by the death of a beloved wife and mother. But this tragic loss of life quickly turns into something

even darker. Her husband had tried to hire a hitman on the dark web to kill her. And she wasn't the only target. Because buried in the depths of the internet is The Kill List, a cache of chilling documents containing names, photos, addresses, and specific instructions for people's murders. This podcast is the true story of how I ended up in a race against time to warn those whose lives were in danger. And it turns out, convincing a total stranger someone wants them dead is not easy.

Follow Kill List on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Kill List and more Exhibit C true crime shows like Morbid early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus. Check out Exhibit C in the Wondery app for all your true crime listening. The towering figures of the Gilded Age, such as Rockefeller and Carnegie, could not have built their empires without mobilizing massive amounts of capital. Industrial expansion was not just a product of oil fields, coal mines, and factory floors. It was a product of Wall Street.

Banks lent huge amounts of money to corporations, helping industries grow and bankers to get rich. And at the time, the most powerful banker of all was J.P. Morgan. Morgan had a hulking appearance that daunted all who met him. He had piercing eyes, a walrus-like mustache, and a chronic skin disorder that turned his bulbous nose a fiery red. His personality was no less arresting. Morgan had an arrogant, domineering manner that struck terror into the hearts of all who crossed his path. Unlike Rockefeller and Carnegie, Morgan's rise was no rags-to-riches story. His father was already a wealthy banker who sent him to finishing school in Switzerland and college in Germany,

where he honed his skills with numbers. He returned to the United States in 1857 and began his career as a clerk at his father's New York firm. Then in 1860, the 23-year-old Morgan struck out on his own and founded J.P. Morgan & Company. As the Civil War raged through those years, Morgan did well for himself. Like Rockefeller and Carnegie, he hired a substitute to serve in the military. And while others served, Morgan profited. In one deal, he financed the purchase of 5,000 army rifles at $3.50 each, then sold them back to the army for $22 apiece. When the rifles turned out to be defective, the scandal got the attention of a congressional committee investigating war profiteering,

but Morgan was eventually cleared of blame. After the war, Morgan sought his fortune in the railroad building frenzy. Railroads required constant investments of capital, which made them prime targets for a shrewd banker like Morgan. In 1869, Morgan seized control of the Albany and Susquehanna Railroad from Jay Gould and Jim Fisk, the schemers who engineered Black Friday during the Grant presidency. Morgan had an intuitive grasp of the larger forces shaping the industrial economy. When overinvestment in railroads triggered the Panic of 1873, Morgan realized that the industry

was dangerously overbuilt. While the Depression crippled the American economy, Morgan, though, emerged from the wreckage with a plan to restructure the railroad industry. He bought troubled smaller lines and consolidated them into larger, more centrally controlled ones. He found a lucrative opportunity with the death of railroad tycoon Cornelius Vanderbilt in 1877. Vanderbilt left most of his stake in the New York Central Railroad to his son William, who then enlisted Morgan to unload the shares. Morgan oversaw the sale of the securities, which at the time was the largest public stock offering ever. He earned himself a hefty $3 million commission and secured a position on the New York Central's Board of Directors. Morgan would replicate this pattern throughout his career. He worked to

elevate himself to positions of influence in various companies, placing associates on their boards of directors to ensure they acted in his interest. He then used his access to acquire privileged information, information that he could leverage for future deals. By having a seat at the table at a wide range of businesses, Morgan gained unique expertise into the inner workings of American industry. He deployed this insider intelligence to oversee mergers and acquisitions and reshape the corporate world as he saw fit. Morgan believed

that unbridled competition led to chaos and waste, and he used his powerful positions to play peacemaker among corporate rivals. In the 1880s, two major East Coast railroad competitors, the New York Central and the Pennsylvania Railroad, were locked in a fierce rate war. Morgan thought the executives were endangering long-term profits for short-term gains. So in 1885, he invited the heads of the warring railroads aboard his luxury yacht for a cruise up the Hudson River. Once aboard, he threatened to block their access to investment capital. By the time the group docked in New Jersey, Morgan had gotten the executives to agree to the end of the rate war. By reorganizing many of America's major railroad companies, Morgan became the most powerful man in the industry. He maneuvered massive amounts of capital to consolidate

companies and build empires. But as someone always interested in new ideas, Morgan was also invested in technological innovation. And few inventors were doing more to transform American lives than Thomas Alva Edison. Thomas Edison had only three months of formal schooling. He was partially deaf, and he credited his hearing trouble with helping him to concentrate. At heart, Edison was more a tinkerer than a scientist, and he would be tireless in his quest to create transformative inventions. He would famously proclaim, Genius is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration.

After starting his career as a traveling telegraph operator, Edison arrived in New York in 1869, poor and in debt. He scored a big break after a friend enlisted him to fix the ticker that indicated the price of gold on Wall Street. Then two years later, in 1871, he moved across the Hudson and set up a workshop in Newark, New Jersey, where he began developing electrical devices. Five years later, in 1876, Edison built his most famous laboratory in Menlo Park, New Jersey, promising

a minor invention every 10 days and a big thing every six months or so. He sought practical, commercial uses for his inventions and fashioned Menlo Park into one of the world's first research and development labs. Edison fostered a raucous atmosphere with nighttime feasts, practical jokes, and sing-alongs around a large organ. The pace at Menlo Park was demanding, but employees enjoyed a sense of freedom and creative control over their projects. The camaraderie and informal atmosphere stood in contrast to the factories that dominated the industrial economy, where workers were treated like cogs in a machine.

In 1877, Edison was catapulted to fame with the debut of the phonograph, the first machine to both record and play back sound. Quickly, the press dubbed Edison the Wizard of Menlo Park. His next big breakthrough was the incandescent light bulb born out of 14 months of teamwork and trial and error. But challenges lay ahead. To make his dream of lighting up city streets a reality, Edison would need capital, and lots of it. And even once he netted himself a prominent investor, the era's most exciting invention nearly ended in failure.

Imagine it's a balmy morning in September 1882. You're an assistant for Thomas Edison, and you're approaching the front door of one of the finest mansions on Madison Avenue. You've been summoned to the home of J.P. Morgan, but you feel like you're about to face the gallows. Good morning. A hairy-looking servant answers the door. You're the man who wired the electricity? Yes, yes, that's me.

The servant raises his eyebrows and ushers you into the house. As you take off your hat and enter, your worst fears are confirmed. You're instantly overwhelmed by the scent of charred wood and burned carpet. Please follow me. The servant escorts you through the dark, wood-paneled hallway, adorned with priceless works of art. As you walk into the library, you take in the wreckage. There's charred debris everywhere. Your stomach lurches.

You're terrified you've lost your boss, his business. Thankfully, the family were at the opera at the time. I hope you realize this desk belonged to Mr. Morgan's grandfather. The oriental rug is one of the finest in his collection, or it was. I don't know what to say, but this has never been done before until a few days ago. I'd only wired a few small wall lamps. Excuse me. You jump, startled at the sound. The big broad-shouldered giant of Wall Street is standing in the doorway, a newspaper Excuse me. So, well? Sir, allow me to offer you my humblest apology.

What are you going to do about it? Mr. Morgan, the trouble is not inherent in the thing itself. It's my own fault. I will personally reinstall everything. I assure you, it will be perfectly safe. How long will it take to fix? I'll start right away. All right. Well, I see that you do. And please know that I hope that the Edison Company appreciates the value of my house as an experimental station. With that, Mr. Morgan turns and leaves you. You breathe a sigh of relief. You expected him to tell you the services of Edison Electric were no longer needed. You're thrilled you haven't lost your boss, his most important investor.

Because if this technology is really going to have an impact, it needs funding and promotion from the likes of him. In 1878, Edison began work on an electric system to distribute light and power to homes and businesses. It was his biggest undertaking yet, so he appealed to private investors. J.P. Morgan decided it was a risk worth taking. With $300,000 capital investment, over $9 million today, the Edison Electric Light Company was born. In 1881, Morgan went to New Jersey to see if Edison could use his lighting technology to illuminate private homes. Edison assured him that an electric lighting system could be installed in Morgan's own house. So the following year, Morgan and his wife moved into a brownstone on Fifth Avenue. After a few setbacks, it became the first home in New York to be outfitted with electric lighting. Edison also convinced New York City officials to build

power stations and run power lines. Pearl Street Central Station opened in the fall of 1882, powering a square mile of lower Manhattan. But the new lighting systems brought only limited change to New York City. Only the rich could afford Edison's electricity. But while the rich flaunted their wealth on Fifth Avenue, the poor lived in crippling squalor. America's city saw feverish growth during the Gilded Age, and with this growth came an increasing divide between progress and the people. Soon, not everyone would accept the status quo. Rising inequality would spark new cries for reform, the seeds of a movement for economic justice. On the next episode of American History Tellers, New York's elite wage vicious wars over opera houses and costume balls, but downtown slums and factories

team with immigrants suffering brutal conditions. Journalists, politicians, and urban reformers take up the cause and join a rising working class to fight back against inequality. From Wondery, this is Episode 2 of The Gilded Age for American History Tellers. If you like American History Tellers, you can binge all episodes early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. And before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey. American History Tellers is hosted, edited, and produced by me, Lindsey Graham for Airship. Audio editing by Molly Bach. Sound design by Derek Behrens. This episode is written by Ellie Stanton, edited by Dorian Marina. Our executive producers are Jenny Lauer Beckman and Marshall Louis,

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