Madison Snodgrass

Madison Snodgrass sat quietly upon the back porch of the family home in North Umberland. He was waiting for news, and feeling ashamed of himself. Behind him and up the stairs lay his father, quite ill with consumption. He was too stubborn to listen to the doctors and move up north to Saranac Lake where they had facilities to take care of that sort of thing. No, Madison thought, he’d rather stay at home and force me to spend all day taking care of him. Madison had been waiting on his father hand and foot for the past six months. That made for six months of constant badgering. Madison had begun to detest the bell he had given his father, in case he needed anything. It rang day and night often merely so his father could harass him about the food he made for them or how he dressed. For Madison, though, that was not the worst of it. Josiah Snodgrass was a good man, by all righteous accounts. He worked hard to provide for his family and expected the same out of them. Josiah felt hard work and diligent study of the bible was the only way to please God. He even felt it was God’s will when he was called to serve the union in the great war between the states., and God had, he felt, accordingly given him a officers position commanding a small regiment in charge of keeping secure the territory north of the Mohawk River following the Hudson River. It was a tour of duty that called Josiah away from his farm and wife, Anna, perhaps only a handful of times, and only once where any shots were fired. One afternoon some farm boys just south of Albany dressed in grey rags and were harassing passing carriages. Josiah fired a shot into the air quickly

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bringing the young “confederates” to pay attention and cease their follies, after which they were sternly scolded and sent home. Because the war did not take Josiah away from his farm for long, his living style was only very slightly affected by the war, and his farm did quite well. Therefore the slow payment of soldiers did not hurt him at all. When he finally received his compensation for the war he sunk it all into railroad stock, specifically those in and around the Adirondack mountains about which he would often say, “ I just know there’s a thousand fortunes in those mountains.” For a handful of years it appeared that Josiah had invested wisely. Many of the railroads he had put his money in had begun construction and some had even produced small dividends. With the confidence allowed him by the minor successes, Josiah borrowed more money to invest. In these prosperous times Josiah and his wife had their first child. They named the boy Madison Hamilton Snodgrass in honor of the two men most instrumental in the creation of the American banking system that would allow a small farmer to eventually provide his family with a fortune and all the status that came with it. Madison remembered the father of his youth fondly. Josiah would sit on the edge of his bed and tell him of the future that would await him in his adult life, a life that would replace the arduous farm work that Madison detested with a life of leisure fueled by machines, machines that would not have been possible without the genius of public credit. Public credit was, after all, the most straightforward way of allowing those with a good idea to fund it to its greatest potential.

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Madison remembered the change, which happened in his fifth year, as if it had been yesterday. His father ’s railroad companies almost entirely went bust shortly after the panic of 1873, when Jay Cooke, the richest man anyone had ever heard of, lost a ton of money in a shady speculation. Those lines that survived were worth just enough, after their sale, to cover the loans that Josiah had taken out with the farm as collateral. The loss of Josiah’s nest egg, coupled with the downturn in output of the crops due to severe drought changed Josiah drastically. He began to detest those men he had idolized, and along with them their namesake, his son. Madison, at only five years old, held no political affiliations, but he longed for the stories his father used to tell of a bright future filled with progress and leisure. Josiah’s disillusionment created in him an even more fanatical devotion to his God as he strove to understand the circumstances surrounding him. The amazing gleam that Madison remembered in his fathers eyes was not seen again until the July 4 t h 1876 birth of their second son, Thomas John Snodgrass. Young Thomas was a robust child with big green eyes and blond hair. In Josiah’s eyes Thomas could do no wrong. He always did his chores on time and rarely complained. “He’s grown up with it all his life,” Madison would say to himself when no one else was around. “It’s not so difficult to take the hard work of a life on the farm when you haven’t heard father talk of all the wondrous things going on in the world and most of all in this wonderful country where freedom and liberty are so valued.” Madison’s penchant for soliloquies was greatly aided by his

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general lack of companionship. Whenever Thomas was not with his father doing some chore or another in the fields or the pasture, he sat quietly reading the bible he kept by him like a devoted puppy. He rarely even spoke to Madison, who he felt was Godless thanks to his fathers often stated views on the subject of Madison’s politics, which as stated earlier barely existed. Thomas’ radical devotion to the bible would eventually do him harm, however. One day he and Josiah went out to the pens to ween the calves from their mothers. Thomas, as usual, went and sat by the fence to read from the good book. Just as he had settled in with a pensive look of concentration on his face one of the cows caught sight of her calve been torn away from her and went into a maternal rage. She stomped and kicked so ferociously that the fence collapse and poor young Thomas went right along with it. He laid in a coma for over a month while doctor upon doctor came and went, but to no avail. The medical bills began to pile up to the point where Josiah was forced to sell off half of the farms hundred and fifty acres to settle up. Unfortunately all their efforts were for naught as Thomas slowly slipped away from them. Anna Snodgrass reacted to Thomas’ death with the same type of maternal rage displayed by the heifer, to the extent of chasing Josiah about the yard with a pitchfork. A week later she left, never to return. The next few years were filled with quiet tension as the two men went about the endless work of a farm. Josiah sunk further into the Bible than ever before, though his temperance was decidedly less strict.

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In 1892 Josiah contracted a terrible case of consumption. The disease only got worse due to his bitterness toward the Adirondack mountains that he felt stole his one chance in the world.

This of course brings us back to Madison

sitting on the porch of the family home feeling guilty. Just as we returned, the door behind him creaked open and Dr. Kettlewell stepped out into the daylight. “Madison, he wishes to see you,” said the doctor. “For what reason,” Madison asked with an exasperated tone. “Now, Madison, indulge him, he’s not got ver y long.” “I’ve been indulging him for much of my life. Well, why should I stop now,” Madison grumbled as he stood up. “That’s the spirit my boy, I suppose.” “Yes, yes, I suppose it is, “Madison mumbled as he ascended the stairs. The early fall sun was beaming through the window at the top making the dust in the air sparkle as Madison turned to enter his fathers room. The contrast between the hall and Josiah’s room was stark, as he had pulled down all the blinds. Just as Madison’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness Josiah began to speak. “For the love of *cough* *cough* the Lord boy, stand up straight,” he said, from his bed. Josiah was a man of forty eight, but his illness made him look much older. “Yes, father,” Madison said, and he did. “Have you been reading the almighty word?” “Yes, I have,” Madison replied, even though he hadn’t.

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“Good, good, Just cuz’ I’m not gonna be around much longer much longer doesn’t mean stray from the ver y word of the Lord.” “Of course not, father,” obliged Madison. “Good, now leave a dying man to his peace and quiet, and his rest.” “Yes, father, sleep well,” Madison answered. He hadn’t felt comfortable around his father in years and was glad for the brevity of the visit. Josiah Snodgrass died later that night in his sleep. The following week was consumed with the wake, funeralu, and organization of Josiah’s possessions. While going through some crates from the barn, Madison came upon an old scrapbook. Its early pages were concerned with the stories of his youth, the planned railroads, innovations in Rail transport, the crash of Cooke and company that started the whole problem, and the subsequent articles about the bankruptcy of the Adirondack lines. Then came a surprise for young Madison. The scrapbook didn’t end there. It continued newspaper articles on railroad innovation straight through to an article from a paper not two months old. The last article was in regard to an exhibit at the Colombian Exposition in Chicago running for most of the year. The exhibit was presented b y the Pullman company who manufactured sleeper cars for the railroads, allowing a most comfortable overnight trip. The exhibit also focused on their methods of manufacture. It appeared that Pullman owned the entirety of its ver y own city, where the workers were taken care of from morning to night by company owned apartments, restaurants, general store, and the like. This new “ideal of industry” as they called it intrigued Madison.

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It was the simplicity of it all that really got to him. It also warmed the cold guilt ridden thoughts about the relationship he had with his father. Perhaps his fathers dreams had stayed with him all these years after all. Madison suddenly knew what he must do. He would sell his fathers herd and head for Chicago. If his father didn’t have the heart to pursue his railroad dreams, Madison would do it for him. The next morning Madison packed up his fathers wagon with clothes, a wheel of cheese, a loaf of bread, some beef jerky and his father ’s scrapbook and set out for nearby Schuylerville to sell his dair y cows. The rumble of the road beneath the wheels of the wagon felt good to Madison. He smiled, He’d been waiting for this for a long time.

Madison pulled into Schuylerville just as the sun was reaching its zenith in the early September sky. It had been nearly a year since Madison had come into town and the buildings shone with a light he’d not remembered. During the spring, summer, and fall, the farm kept him too busy to come into town, and in the winter the ice and snow made the roads nearly impassable. The masses of brick and stone that lined the streets put a lump in Madison’s throat. The things that a group of like minded Americans could do together had such a greater impact upon him than those things that were made b y one man or with the help of a small family. This type of cooperation was what truly made America great.

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Madison’s wide eyed stare must have been a curious site to those who lined the sidewalks up and down the Main Street. To many of them these sidewalks were the drudger y of daily life, but to Madison they were grand palaces, a far cry from his family’s rustic farmhouse. After traversing much of town Madison pulled up to a small general store on the right side of the road. The sign above the door said, “J.D.Fuller ’s.” Madison tied his horses to the post and was about to enter when a well groomed couple drove by in a brand new automobile. The entire street stopped what they were doing in order to stare at the two as they passed. Madison had never actually seen an automobile before, and he was guessing from the looks on the faces of the others on the sidewalks few of them had either. “Someday I will own one of my ver y own,” said Madison, once again, to no one but himself. As the couple rolled slowly out of sight, without any apparent notice of the scene they had created, Madison turned slowly and entered the store. “Madison,” exclaimed the thickly built man behind the counter with a smile bubbling up onto his serious face. “It has been nearly a year since last I saw your face. I am sorry to have heard about your father. You understand wh y I did not attend the funeral, don’t you. Madison nodded, he did understand. What little family Josiah still had held no respect for Jim as he was the product of a scandalous affair. “Few people came, Uncle Jim, he was a difficult man to love.”

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Jim’s smile grew even larger at those words. Madison was not sure if it was because few had shown up to Josiah’s funeral, or because Madison had called him “Uncle.” Josiah had always advised the boys that Jim, being only his half brother, was not to be called “Uncle” Jim. While the idea had never stuck with Madison, Thomas, of course, had listened. “Hard to love he most certainly was, now what can I do for you my dear bo y?” Jim asked. Madison explained the crate and showed Jim the scrapbook, all the while Jim’s face brightened. When Madison confided that he intended to travel to the Chicago World’s Fair to begin making his way in the railroad business, Jim nearly jumped out of his seat. “My boy, that is a fantastic idea,” Jim exclaimed, “the world is changing. Your father knew that, but fear made him hold his head in the sand while life happened around him. He got bitten only once and it made him shy away from all the opportunities that followed. I’m glad you did not inherit those fears, but son that still doesn’t tell me what I can do for you?” “I need to sell father ’s herd to afford the trip.” “Oh,” Jim said as he stepped back with his hand on his chin to assess the situation, “and you want me to see about selling them for you.” Madison, sensing some of his fathers mannerisms, hunched over and mumbled, “well, yes….I suppose.” “Speak up son,” Jim bellowed. “Yes Sir,” Madison said with a bit more energy.

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The abrupt nature of the following laughter that came from Jim Fuller was such that two old ladies waddled out of his establishment wearing expressions that said, “well I never.” “Why Madison,” Jim said barely able to control himself, “I’ll do you one better than that, I’ll buy the whole herd off of you on the spot, how’s that.” It took a moment for the news to sink in, but once it did Madison leapt and danced about the store like a fool. When he was finally able to calm down the two men shook hands over the deal, and Jim handed over an envelope with the first of two agreed upon installments. Madison’s head was held high when he walked out the door to his wagon, with five hundred dollars in his pocket. The feeling was intoxicating, if a bit scar y. Wisely, before he felt the urge to spend much of the money on countless trinkets and baubles he had not known in his youth he marched straight to the railroad station and purchased the next available ticket to Chicago. He was to leave in three days, late evening September 12 t h to arrive at the fair early the next morning. The next three days passed remarkably quickly. Uncle Jim came and got a few of the cows he had purchased each day, as he was able to sell them to customers. This wasn’t a difficult prospect. Despite Josiah’s antisocial traits it was widely known that the hard working man had raised the best Dair y cattle for a fifty mile radius. Jim would stop into the house for a spell on each visit to share with Madison ever ything he

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had heard about the fair. Shop keepers heard quite a bit, too, second only to Tavern owners and most certainly from a higher class of customer. Jim had quite a few customers who had been to the exposition and returned with grand stories of a giant cr ystal cave, an ice railroad that slid along on an indoor track of ice even in the summer, and a giant wheel that took visitors hundreds of feet into the air above the fair grounds. When the day finally came for Madison to catch the train he could hardly contain himself. His Uncle met him at the station, only a few blocks from his store, with a box lunch and his best wishes. When the railcar lunged into motion Madison couldn’t decide whether the butterflies in his stomach were due to his first ride on a train in nearly twenty years or the anticipation of what lay ahead. Either way he, having not slept much in the past two days, fell into a restless sleep. While Madison slept the train sped across the American countr yside at the unprecedented speed of eighty miles per hour. When Madison awoke the train had slowed significantly as they rode through a city that made Schuylerville look like a pitiful camp site. They drove p[ast large suburban houses first, then past smoke belching factories the size of which Madison had never even imagined. The train slowed even more as they began to pass numerous fine brownstone homes, and finally came to rest in the interior of a ver y large building. Madison had made it. He was at the fair. Madison exited the train as quickly as the crowd would allow him to. As he exited the station he was handed a flier. As he wandered blindly out into the

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open air, he perused the pamphlet. It told of the events of the day such as free concerts, meetings, and temporar y exhibits. Further on in the pamphlet were advertisements for many more exhibits and attrations, most notably for Madison was the ice railway. “So it does exist,” he said to himself, but for once he was not alone. A freckled red headed boy with a dusty bowler atop his head turned to face him. “What does,” the red head asked. Surprized by the question, Madison looked up at his surroundings for the first time. The buildings that surrounded him were so big that all of his father ’s land could have easily fit inside of most of them. The sight of these grandiose structures distracted Madison so greatly from the red headed boy’s question that the boy wandered off with a polite, “see ya round.” The Administration building stood in front of Madison with its large domed roof. It like all of the buildings, was stark white, but it was a bit smaller than the rest of the buildings. This made sense, being as its main purpose was to sell tickets. For that exact reason it was Madison’s first stop. He did after all need a ticket. He paid his fifty cent admission, and the cashier rattled off a list of the day’s attractions in a voice that could only have meant those words were now permanently emblazoned on his mind and no longer required any thought. It was entirely lost on Madison, anyway, as he was to anxious to pay an y attention, and wandered past the Administration building into the fairs main thoroughfare. A furtive glance at the map in the pamphlet he had been given told him that the thoroughfare was called the court of honor, and for good reason

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as far as Madison was concerned though he kept this thought inside to avoid any more passers by listening in. Directly in front of him was a series of three large water fountains whose water jets were, according to the pamphlet, pumped high into the air thanks to the wonders of electric power supplied by Mr. Edison’s General Electric. Further down the courtyard, across a basin filled with boats shuffling fair goers around the grounds, was a gigantic statueof a man in robes holding a staff in one hand and a globe crested with an eagle in the other. If it had not been for the conversation of a couple of passers by stating that the statue was, “appropriately only coated in gold,” Madison would have assumed it to be entirely solid. Nevertheless he was quite impressed. Madison spent much of his first day at eh fair taking in the many sights it had to offer. He rode the ice railway at least a dozen times thrilling at the high speed the sled could reach in the frozen tunnel in which it rode. About mid afternoon Madison bought a sandwich from a walking vendor. It was made from ground beef and looked quite good. He put the sandwhich in his pack and got in line for the giant Ferris Wheel. He stood there for a few minutes before someone behind him tapped him on the shoulder. It was the red headed kid from the Administration building. “Are you more accustomed to the place yet? Up for a chat perhaps,” said the boy. Madison nodded somewhat incredulously, but eventually the two broke into a long conversation made possible by the slow nature of the Ferris Wheel’s

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line. Madison learned that the “boy” was nearly his age, and was merely quite bab y faced. His name was Abner Cooper, and his family ran a large farm in Iowa that grew corn and wheat. He too had come to the fair in search of his fortunes. His grandfather had been a barrel maker and there were enough barrels lying around the farm for Abner to make corn whiskey in great amounts, which he sold for the money to get to the fair. He was in search of a future a bit more Godly, however, as selling whiskey mad a great many people turn up their noses at you. He had been at the fair for four days with little luck finding employment in anything that intrigued him. B y the time the two of them finally reached the big wheel they were finishing each others sentences. On the ride in the car, which sat upwords of sixty people, Madison remembered the sandwich in his pack and offered Abner half. Abner respectfully declined. Madison had never tasted anything so good. He was amazeg at what grinding up beef did for its flavor. Abner told him he should try one while it was still warm. The view from the Ferris wheel was equally, if not more impressive tham the sandwich. Madison compared the sight to his map focusing mainly on the golden entranced Transportation building where the wonderful Pullman exhibit was. Despite his excitement Madison promised Abner that he would spend the rest of the evening with him, and then tomorrow, after a good nights rest they would go about there own personal business. The visited a great many exhibits that night. First was the manufacturers building in which numerous motors ran loudly to spin the d ynamos that created the great amount of electricity needed to run all the

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exhibits at the fair. To Madison, who had very little experience with electricity, the electric lamps and fountains were magical and it showed on his face. They’d have stayed in the building for quite a bit longer were it not for the intolerable noise. The noise was so greatly disconcerting that a man grabbed Abner assuming he was someone named Bertrand, but Madison cleared up the misunderstanding and they went about the rest of the evening. The two saw nearly ever y attraction on the midway, and rode the Ferris wheel and ice railroad at least a half a dozen more times each until the lights came on around the fair grounds. Every time Abner objected to an attraction, Madison would offer to pay silencing the objection. As night closed in the two agreed to spend much of their morning separate in order to pursue their intended courses, but they were to meet up on wooded island in the middle of the lagoon at four thirty after they had hopefully found something that would brighten their perspective futures. Madison slept better that night than he had in decades, and he awoke refreshed quickly showered and left the hotel for the Transportation building. Inside the transportation building there were all sorts of rail cars, automobiles and other machines to facilitate movement from one place to another, but only the rail cars interested Madison, and one specific exhibit at that. He searched through the many isles looking for the Pullman exhibit and found it in the center isle. A man was standing in front of a Shiny new Pullman sleeper, complete with feather beds and carved mahogany paneling. Madison stood starring at the

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piece of machiner y, quite entranced. The man who had been talking to a crowd previously now came over to Madison. “Don’t droll on her, my friend,. No matter how beautiful she is.” “I’m sorr y…” Madison mumbled. “Don’t worry about it, don’t worry about it,” the man laughed, “most people do. Its part of the game when you make such fine machiner y.” “It is a beautifu…” “Yes it certainly is, one hundred percent manufactured in the town of Pullman, my boy, not ver y far from where we stand. All the workers are happy in Pullman and there fore the output of their labor is much greater, much greater.” “Well that makes sense,” adison squeezed the sentence in as best he could. “Of course it does, son, of course it does. That is why we call it the ideal of industr y.” Madison’s eyes brightened, this is what he came here for and he wasn’t about to miss his opportunity. He blurted out his purpose with out any thought. “Actually that’s why I am here. I want to work for Pullman, it sounds like a fantastic place.” “You’ve got that right, my friend. So tell me, what kind of experience do you have in the railroad industry,” the man asked. “Well, none,” Madison answered coyly.

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“No experience, boy, then how do you propose that you have anything to offer the folks at Pullman Car Company. After all, we are the top in our field, and no one gets to start at the top.” The man walked away from Madison before he could respond, and Madison walked away heart broken. He went to one of the restaurants and And ordered some whiskey, to warm his spirit and pass the time till he was to meet with Abner. Madison hoped Abner ’s day had gone better than his own, though it was likely it couldn’t have gone worse. When he got to the wooded isle he found Abner waiting for him at the previously agreed upon park bench and barely able to contain himself. Madison felt happ y for Abner had obviously had better luck than he had. Before he even got in front of him, Abner burst into speech. “You’ll never believe it, Madison, never.” “You’ve found a career Abner, that’s fantastic, I am so happy for you,” Madison said tr ying to disguise his own unhappiness for his friend. “Yes, I have found a great opportunity, but not for me my friend, for you” “For me,” Madison said seriously. “Yes I’ve met a man who is starting a company to build rail cars that put Pullman to shame, they will have built in kitchens and all the electrical conveniences that you see at this wonderful exposition. All he needs to get his company going is a five hundred dollar deposit to borrow against, and some hard working people to share it with. So what do you think.”

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Madison was speechless, the offer seemed wonderful, but he only had about two hundred dollars left after the past two days of endless enjoyment. Oh well, I suppose I should at least talk to the man. Abner had arranged for them to meet with Steven at seven thirty at the fisheries building. This was more good news for Madison as the exhibit, with the countless tanks filled with ever y sort of aquatic animal, was one of his favorites. The two men went to dinner before hand and got to the Fisheries building at about quarter after seven. Soon they were greeted by a man in a immaculately clean suit who walked with a cane. “Gentlemen,” the man said and turning to Madison said, “ I am Steven Rothchild. I am looking for my name to become a household word just as the name Pullman has, and I hear you may be able to help.” “ I am ver y interested in working for a rail company sir,” Madison said, “and I will work ever so hard for you.” “That son is not in question, I am a fantastic judge of character and I know an honest hard working face when I see one, and you are it. Sadly however, the business will be finished before it starts if I can not come up with an investor who can put down the five hundred dollars necessar y for certain promotional material. I alas have sunk all my money into what is called research and development. You wouldn’t happen to know where I could find such a person, if you come across such a man do let me know.” “I can help,” Madison said without a moments hesitation.

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“Excellent my friend, excellent, if you will only hand over the capital I shall get our little venture started.” “Well,” Madison said, “I don’t exactly have the money, but I can get it” “Well, now that’s a different story,” Steven said, “How soon can you get it, because opportunity waits for no man my friend, no man.” Madison thought for a moment and answered, “About four days.” “Excellent, then we shall reconvene her in four days, until then my most excellent partner.” The two men nearly skipped out of the building and down to a restaurant to celebrate with dinner and some wine. On the way Madison sent a telegram begging his uncle for the remainder owed to him. The next few days were business as usual for Madison and Abner, with frequent trips to all of their old haunts. Abner was even able to get Madison to join him aboard the mock Battleship Indian. Madison felt uncomfortable around military ships. He never understood why mankind insisted on impeding its progress with wars, but Abner was excited by it. Then the day came and early that morning the money arrived. The two men ran full speed to the fishery building where Steven was waiting for them. They handed over the money to Steven who told them he had to get it in the hands of his creditors as quickly as possible and that he would meet them again at the same place two days hence. The two days passed and the boys went to the fisher y, but Steven was not there. The next few days were tense as Madison was running out of money, and

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patience. Abner apologized for the situation almost daily, but by the end of the week Madison was broke and so was Abner. Neither, consequently, had a place to stay, or any food left. They wandered the grounds of the fair wondering what to do, until Abner came up with a solution. The boys, Abner more readily than Madison, marched solemly down to the docks were they signed up for the United States Navy, and shipped out later that same day.

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