Letters that if seen would cause others pain or might be misunderstood were instantly destroyed. Questions put to him that it would be indiscreet to answer were apparently not heard.
An important paper was never thrust loosely into his pocket, but was placed in an envelope and his name and address distinctly written upon it; the same care was given to any package that he carried. His reason for so doing was that if, after having taken this precaution, he lost either paper or package, it would be at once returned to him.
His quick and energetic manner often amused his guests, and when a friend was with him in 1885, he said, “It seemed like living on the top of a ‘bus.” On Sunday evening, in reply to the question as to whether or no he would be obliged to leave the next morning, this guest said: “I shall go to town with you Mr. Field. At what hour do you breakfast?” The answer surprised him: “At half-past seven o’clock sharp.” The reply was: “I am ready now.” It was then past eleven.
These extracts are taken from two of Mr. Smalley’s letters sent from London to the New York Tribune:
“Those in England who regret the great American’s death on the grounds of private affection are many, and among them some of the best and most prominent Englishmen now living....
“Mr. Cyrus Field was at one time almost as well known in London as in New York. The tributes now paid him show that he was not forgotten in the later years of his life, and that such misfortunes as befell him did not shake his hold on his English friendships. Of these he had a considerable number among the most eminent men in England. Mr. Gladstone was one, Mr. Bright and the Duke of Argyll were two others. These relations lasted for many years. They lasted in Mr. Bright’s case till his death, and there was between him and Mr. Field something which might be called affection. The great orator spoke of the great American in terms which he did not bestow lavishly, and never bestowed carelessly. His respect for Mr. Field’s public work was sufficiently shown in the splendid eulogy he passed upon him. To be called by such a man as Mr. Bright the Columbus of the nineteenth century is renown enough for any man. The epithet is imperishable. It is, as Thackeray said of a similar tribute to Fielding in Gibbon, like having your name written on the dome of St. Peter’s. The world knows it, and the world remembers. I heard Mr. Bright use the phrase, and he adorned and emphasized it in his noblest tones. He had, indeed, a deep regard for great service done to the public, and for the doer of it, and he did not stint his acknowledgments. He was great enough to be willing to acknowledge greatness in others. Mr. Cyrus Field, for his part, returned the good-will shown him with fulness. He took a great pleasure in such friendships as these I have named. To secure Mr. Bright as a speaker at one of his dinners was a delight to him; and Mr. Bright made at least one of his most admirable speeches on such an occasion.... Even those who thought Mr. Cyrus Field somewhat masterful in business matters could not overcome their liking for the man. I have in mind one or two men, famous in telegraphy, who resented very strongly Mr. Field’s handling of certain matters, and said strong things about it. I do not know whether he was right or whether they were right, nor does it matter. The point is that these very men remained attached to him, and were among his friends to the last in England. The secret of his power of winning over men might be difficult to define. Whatever it was, he possessed it in no ordinary degree. He had an affectionate and persuasive manner. No doubt, I think, ever crossed his mind that his aim, whatever it might be, was a right one. This conviction, arising in his own breast, he was able to impart to others. That is not an explanation of the mystery, it is only another way of stating it.
“He seemed to me never to forget a friend, whether in prosperity or adversity. If, as his adversaries sometimes asserted after their defeat, he was hard in business matters, that is only what must be said of all successful men of business. It is a condition of success. He none the less had fine and generous impulses, and, unlike some others, acted on them. A good impulse unacted on seldom seems to be of any particular use to anybody—least of all to him who controls it. There was in Mr. Field none of that cynicism which led Talleyrand to say you must suspect your first impulse, because it is generally a good one. He was not cynical, whatever else he was.
“He made himself liked, or rather he was liked whether he tried to be or not. He was genial, serviceable: liked to do a kind thing, and to give pleasure. His sterner and more efficient traits of character are known to everybody; on them there is no need to dwell. Every message that flashes through the Atlantic cables is his eulogy. His virtues are written in water in a new sense; and the memory of his indomitable courage; of his just sense of the right means to the right end; of his enthusiasm, and of his power of generating enthusiasm in others; of his fortitude; of his wise generalship; of his large views, and of much else, will endure.”
The next extract is taken from the report of the Century Club for 1892. It was written by Judge Howland, the secretary of the Century:
“The name of Cyrus W. Field is worthy of association with those of Fulton, Stephenson, Morse, and Ericsson as benefactors to mankind. Inheriting from a vigorous ancestry a capacity, energy, and perseverance that would brook no obstacles—characteristic of other members of his family as well—he strode from poverty to wealth, through various vicissitudes, but with unstained integrity. Engaged in gigantic enterprises, he stood on the brink of financial ruin in promoting them; endured failure on the verge of success, despair on the heels of hope, ridicule swift after praise, long unbroken; wearying suspense, varying with exaltation and depression, until after thirteen years of doubt and trial and tireless labor his triumph came, and with it fame and the honors of two continents. The Atlantic cable is a monument to his memory that shall endure while time shall last, but as the promoter of the elevated railroad in New York, at a time when its feasibility was problematical, success uncertain, and capital was timid, he is entitled no less to the grateful memory of our people.