EVER found yourself staring, like a rabbit in the headlights, at the two stone heads on either side of the entrance to Abergavenny Library?
They’re a formidable and fierce looking pair, aren’t they! Yet who are they and what is their purpose? Were they carved in honor of two literary bouncers whose mission in life was to keep the Philistines from Monmouthshire’s Mecca of learning?
Or are they merely the equivalent of Victorian garden gnomes. Stuck on the library for purely ornamental and aesthetic reasons?
They are in fact, as is only fitting considering the great democracy of learning which public libraries ushered in, an aristocrat and a peasant. Or to give them their proper names - William Neville and Andrew Carnegie.
Their story is an interesting one.
The carved head on the right depicts the first Marquess of Abergavenny. Also known as the 5th Earl of Abergavenny, the 1st Earl of Lewes, the 21st Baron Bergavenny, and, last but not least, the ‘Tory bloodhound’.
For the purposes of the story, we’ll refer to him as the town knew him - Lord Abergavenny (pronounced Aber-genny)
William gave the old Nevill Hall manor house its name and lived there for a number of years.
In 1899 he refused the Mayorship of Abergavenny but became the town’s first honorary freeman instead.
He also paid for and presented the first mayoral chain of office to the town. One which is used to this day.
The Chronicle reports that on the 82nd birthday of the Marquess of Abergavenny, the chairman of the evening Mr. W. Boyt made the following speech.
“In proposing his lordship’s health, I cannot refrain from thinking, we may be apt to forget the influence he has exerted, not merely by his innumerable kindness on his estates, but in the greater sphere of the affairs of this empire, and so, in making the history of the world. (hear, hear.)
It is known to many of us, that many years ago he was the intimate friend, associate, and counsellor of probably the greatest leader this country ever had, the great Disraeli. (Applause.)
To no-one did this great man turn for advice and the conference so readily and so freely as the Lord Abergavenny (applause), and during the troublous times immediately preceding the Berlin conference, when all Europe, and it might have been the whole of the civilised world, stood to their arms, and were prepared for war.
Always, and at all junctures, was Lord Abergavenny giving advice and support to our country’s leader. (Applause.)
It was his lordship who escorted Mr. Disraeli through the London streets when he returned bearing that ever-to-be-remembered message, ‘peace with honour.
Let us all than drink with three times three to the most Honourable Marquess of Abergavenny.”
The company then apparently gave itself over to the enjoyment of the weed.
Lord Abergavenny was greatly interested in the welfare of the town and was often described as the spirit of generosity. He helped improve the town’s waterworks, made considerable donations to the workhouse, financed the building of Abergavenny’s cricket ground, bowling green, and pavilion, played a key role in the restoration of Abergavenny’s Charter, and let the Castle and grounds to the Council as a recreation area on generous terms. Something which his ancestors continue to do to this day.
Upon his death in 1915 it was also reported that “It is no exaggeration to say that Abergavenny has lost the best friend it ever had.”
The generous Lord officially opened Abergavenny Library on September 8, September 8, 1906. The Mayor of London, Sir Walter Vaughan was also present. The man responsible for its funding was not. His name was Andrew Carnegie. He’s the stone head on the left and was once known as the richest man in the world.
Unlike Lord Abergavenny, Carnegie wasn’t born with a silver spoon in his mouth. He was born dirt poor to a family who lived in one room of a rundown shack in Dunfermline, Scotland.
Born into a world transformed by the Industrial Revolution, by the time he was 13, Carnegie’s family had two choices, emigrate or starve.
Carnegie’s father William borrowed enough to pay for the boat fare and took his family to the hope of a better life in the brave new world, or as we know it, America.
Arriving in the USA as penniless immigrants, Andrew and his father were employed in a Pittsburgh textile mill.
It was hard graft and Carnegie was only paid one dollar and 20 cents per week but to the young lad with big dreams it was everything.
Carnegie wrote about that period, “It was a hard life. In the winter father and I had to rise and breakfast in the darkness, reach the factory before it was daylight, and, with a short interval for lunch, work till after dark. The hours hung heavily upon me and in the work itself I took no pleasure; but the cloud had a silver lining, as it gave me the feeling that I was doing something for my world--our family. I have made millions since, but none of those millions gave me such happiness as my first week’s earnings. I was now a helper of the family, a breadwinner, and no longer a total charge upon my parents.”
Whilst breaking his back in the day, Carnegie attended school by night. Upon turning 18 he was employed by the Pennsylvania Railroad Company. Within a short time, he became the company’s superintendent.
Using his wages to make investments in oil fields and iron mills, a 30-year-old Carnegie left the railroad industry and began building his own steel empire.
His work ethic and attention to detail were legendary and in three years he had a net worth of $400,000.
This was when things got really interesting.
In December 1868, Carnegie sat down in New York’s St. Nicholas Hotel and wrote a memo to himself. It read.
“Make no effort to increase fortune, but spend the surplus each year for benevolent purposes. Cast aside business forever except for others. Man must have an idol — The amassing of wealth is one of the worst species of idolatry. No idol more debasing than the worship of money. Whatever I engage in I must push inordinately therefor should I be careful to choose that life which will be the most elevating in its character. To continue much longer overwhelmed by business cares and with most of my thoughts wholly upon the way to make more money in the shortest time must degrade me beyond hope of permanent recovery. The man who dies rich dies disgraced. Money can only be the useful drudge of things immeasurably higher than itself.”
Carnegie kept that memo for the rest of his life. It was to be his first principle and guiding light. By the time of his death in 1919, Carnegie had given away $5 billion in today’s money.
He gave to universities, he gave to museums, he gave to initiatives which supported science, the arts, and world peace, and above all, he gave to libraries.
Abergavenny Library is one such library.
In 1907 Carnegie visited Abergavenny to receive the freedom of the borough, and an official ’thank-you’ from the town for his financial aid towards the recently erected free library.
Andrew Carnegie addressed the gathered assembly thus, "The land of knowledge and literature are more valuable than all the dross called gold piled together. I congratulate you on your free library. I congratulate the men behind it who endeavour to make the world a better place. Many think too much about the next world and too little about this. The way to merit Heaven, and I believe to win it, is to make this world more of a Heaven. I need not defend libraries they defend themselves. Wherever I found them, I found the fountains from which healing water always flows."
So there you have it. Next time you pay a visit to Abergavenny Library, or just happen to pass by, give a nod to the stone heads and remember the lesson embodied by their weather-worn features - a little learning goes a long way.
Or as Carnegie himself once said, “The first man gets the oyster, the second man gets the shell.”
Make of that what you will.