Attentive
Bookkeeper
The two made natural allies. Hopkins' quiet demeanor contrasted
nicely with Huntington's bombast. Hopkins was the paper man.
He handled the books while Huntington took care of wheeling
and dealing, a relationship they would later replicate with
the railroad venture. His attention to business matters was
absolute. "I never thought anything finished until Hopkins
had seen it," Huntington said. "He never had anything
to do with trade and never would. He had general supervision
of the books and the papers, contracts, &c. When he said
they were right, I never cared to look at them." Earnestness
and frugality combined with a slight gray beard to earn Hopkins
the nickname "Uncle Mark." But the unthreatening exterior
disguised a resolute mind. Partner Charles Crocker would say,
"When Hopkins wanted to be, he was the stubbornest man
alive."
Early
California Republicans
Politics cemented Hopkins' relationship to Collis Huntington,
Leland Stanford, Charles Crocker, and Crocker's brother Edwin.
Although he began as a Know-Nothing, Hopkins shifted to California's
burgeoning Republican Party, which chartered itself at the Huntington
& Hopkins hardware store in March 1856. They had a difficult
go at first; local Democrats invaded meetings, or accosted them
on the street with shouts of "Black Republican!" All
five future railroaders were in fact abolitionists, as were
many of their Republican peers, but they knew a controversial
platform would not get the party on its feet. So they picked
something more palatable. "We are in favor," read
the California Daily Times, the newspaper printed at
54 K Street, "of Frémont and the Pacific Railroad."
In
on the Ground Floor
When railroad advocate Theodore Judah caught Huntington's ear
in 1860, he insisted that Congress would soon pass a railroad
bill -- and it would do so under the aegis of the incoming president,
Abraham Lincoln. Huntington used this logic to sell the venture
to his business partner: if their small group of associates
got in on the ground floor of a railroad proposal, kindred spirits
in Washington might well reward them construction rights when
the measure passed. All they had to do was invest in the energetic
engineer. Judah would survey his route and take the findings
to Capitol Hill; Huntington and Hopkins would stand to reap
the benefits and control the Central Pacific. Hopkins was cautious,
but convinced. He put $1,500 into the new company and assumed
a place on its board. In June 1861, when the directors gathered
to select their officers, the bookkeeper was, of course, named
treasurer.
Burned
Record Books
Over the years of construction, Hopkins ran the Central Pacific
finances much as he had the store, except now the market was
bigger -- and the stakes higher. He still preferred to recede
into the background, letting his more voluble partners deal
with government, public, press, and workers. He in turn kept
a sharp eye on the books, considering the financial ramifications
of every move, clearing a route for the complex finances of
the massive undertaking. Hopkins could be strict with his partners,
refusing to endorse schemes that expanded Central Pacific holdings
but distracted focus from the main line. He discouraged Huntington's
speculative grabs at Utah's Wasatch coal fields. Similarly,
he disapproved of E. B. Crocker's scheme to buy the Western
Pacific Line linking Sacramento and San Francisco. Crocker hoped
to initiate a railroad empire throughout California, but Hopkins
and his abacus brain could only justify financing the nuts and
bolts of the monumental construction immediately at hand. The
impasse caused a rift among the Associates for weeks. But stalwart
Hopkins could be persuaded by the enthusiasm of his partners;
the company absorbed the Western Pacific in June 1867. Hopkins
advocated deals, legal or otherwise, that made fiscal sense,
and reacted in horror when the Associates made promises beyond
the pale of reason. Often he scrambled to clean up the mess.
In 1872, when the biggest mess of them all -- Crédit
Mobilier -- called Central Pacific deal-making into question,
Hopkins burned the record books.
A
Modest Man
Though the Central Pacific made him very rich, Hopkins continued
to live frugally. He rented a small cottage in San Francisco
until his wife forced him to build a larger home, which he did
not live to see completed. In 1878, true to his temperate nature
and the enterprise that defined him, he died in his sleep aboard
a railroad car.
