._ ; J gzOk ' : ^^[:^gx^»"K\ ; ^;-~-.^T : ^ gj 
 
 
LIBRARY OF THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS 
 
 AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN 
 
 IN MEMORY OF 
 
 STEWART S. HOWE 
 
 JOURNALISM CLASS OF 1928 
 
 STEWART S. HOWE FOUNDATION 
 
 B 
 M1313r 
 
 I.H.S. 
 

 ^ ry. 
 
 
NETTIE FOWLER McCORMICK 
 
 By 
 
 STELLA VIRGINIA RODERICK 
 
 RICHARD R. SMITH PUBLISHER, INC. 
 
 Rindge, New Hampshire 
 1956 
 
Copyright, 1956, by 
 
 Richard R. Smith Publisher, Inc. 
 
 Topside, West Rindge, New Hampshire 
 
 Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 56-1 1748 
 
 All rights reserved. No part of this 
 book may be reproduced in any form 
 without permission of the publisher. 
 
 Set up, printed and bound in the 
 
 United States of America by 
 
 The Colonial Press Inc. 
 
3 
 
 1 \ 
 
 )/U 
 
 A good life shall be fragrant for a thousand years 
 
 — Old Chinese proverb, sent 
 to Mrs. McCormick on her 
 eightieth birthday 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2012 with funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://archive.org/details/nettiefowlermcOrode 
 
PREFACE 
 
 I 
 
 T was Mrs. McCormick's practice to keep all papers that came 
 to her — letters of every type from the humblest appeal to the most 
 important business letters and the notes of the great who were her 
 friends; also a wide and interesting range of printed matter. In- 
 cluded were advertisements of several decades, numberless clip- 
 pings made by her or on her order, pamphlets of all kinds, and the 
 literature of institutions by the hundreds. Many letters represent- 
 ing her chief interests were filed. Packages tied with tape or 
 ribbon, kept in special places, held personal letters of her early 
 days. There were papers in all kinds of arrangement or none. Held 
 apart, where no one knew of them, were her journals, in twelve 
 volumes, which covered intermittently the years from 1850 to 
 1896; and the journal of her cousin Ermina Merick (1 851 -i860). 
 There was treasure in a little locked trunk — letters of her ances- 
 tors and elder relatives, of her father, mother, and brother. Most 
 prized of all was a precious packet of her husband's love letters 
 to her. Her own writings include a large number of copies or 
 drafts in her hand and memoranda innumerable on scraps of 
 paper. 
 
 It is from her vast collection of papers that this account of 
 Nettie Fowler McCormick's life was principally drawn, in the 
 long process of organizing and studying them. They have been 
 supplemented, however, by more than two hundred interviews 
 with those who knew her in various relations, and the written 
 recollections of two hundred more; by her letters collected from 
 many recipients; by church and school records. Her sons Cyrus 
 H. and Harold F. McCormick added extensively from their own 
 files. They, and their sister, Mrs. Blaine, talked informally about 
 their mother. Mrs. McCormick's niece, Kate Fowler Merle-Smith 
 (Mrs. Van Santvoord), made available the results of extensive 
 research in the history of the Fowler family. She and Wilton 
 
VI PREFACE 
 
 Lloyd-Smith, husband of Mrs. McCormick's great-niece (Marjorie 
 Fleming Lloyd-Smith), each secured from Mrs. McCormick's own 
 lips, late in life, her recollections of her early days and her relatives. 
 The files of the McCormick Historical Association (now the 
 McCormick Collection of the State Historical Society, Madison, 
 Wisconsin) yielded rich material, particularly on Mrs. McCor- 
 mick's relation to the reaper business. 
 
 Thanks are due to those who kindly shared their memories and 
 their letters; to several who read chapters in the course of prepara- 
 tion bearing on fields in which they worked: Dr. John R. Mott, 
 Dr. Robert E. Speer, Mrs. A. C. Zenos, Dr. George L. Robinson, 
 Dr. Landon Carter Haynes, and Mr. Forest D. Siefkin, vice presi- 
 dent and general counsel of the International Harvester Company, 
 who also kindly made the Company's law library available. The 
 author is deeply indebted to the late Dr. Herbert A. Kellar, co- 
 ordinator of the McCormick Collection, and Mrs. Kellar for 
 guidance in using the McCormick Collection and for critical and 
 constructive reading of the manuscript; to Mr. Fowler McCormick, 
 Mrs. Merle-Smith, and Mrs. Lloyd-Smith for reading and helpful 
 comment, and to others who helped in special ways. 
 
 To her associates in research and related work, the author owes 
 far more than can be briefly conveyed: to Miss Portia Cheal, 
 whose persistent research and wide range of information averted 
 many inaccuracies and whose fine critical judgment has been a 
 constant contribution; to Miss Elizabeth Bostater, nurse-compan- 
 ion, whose close acquaintance with Mrs. McCormick in later years 
 heightened the value of her able help in research and criticism. 
 
 Naturally, none of those to whom thanks are offered bears any 
 responsibility for the faults of the following pages. These exist in 
 spite of, not because of, those who have helped. 
 
 S.V.R. 
 
INTRODUCTION 
 
 Ok 
 
 RUSH STREET, in Chicago, a short block from the 
 roar of North Michigan Avenue, stood until recently a large 
 brownstone mansion. Massive, with high mansard roof and man- 
 sard cupola, set in grounds stretching to three streets, the house 
 was for the later years of its existence a serene and dignified sur- 
 vival of a past age. 
 
 But it had rich meaning for most of its long years in terms of 
 life. In architecture, decoration, furnishings, this house was an ex- 
 pression of the place in the economic and social order, the taste and 
 personal qualities of Cyrus Hall McCormick, inventor of the 
 reaper, and of his wife Nettie Fowler McCormick, who built it in 
 the late seventies. For somewhat less than five years 135 (later 
 675) Rush Street was the busy scene of linked interests of husband 
 and wife in business, philanthropy, religion. For nearly forty more 
 it was the center of activities of its widowed mistress — the center 
 of a series of widening circles. 
 
 In the inner circle it was a home for the McCormick family of 
 five children — two out of seven having lived their brief lives be- 
 fore this house was built; a happy playground for the swarming 
 young McCormick kin and their mates for whom the mysteries of 
 its second floor, connected all the way round through closets and 
 bathrooms, had magic charm. It was a resort for counsel and help 
 of a large clan of their elders, coming in search of ready sympathy, 
 good talk, material aid. Its reception and living rooms, rich in 
 satinwood, ebony, rosewood, its wide hall and beautiful stairway, 
 were a fine setting for gatherings of Chicago's social elect or an 
 impressive background for religious and philanthropic meetings. 
 Its more retired rooms were the scene of business conferences over 
 which this woman presided, directing a great business unofficially. 
 Through its doors, as the years passed, streamed college presidents 
 and professors, theological students, ministers, representatives of 
 
 vii 
 
Vlll INTRODUCTION 
 
 every Chicago good cause, of scores of national causes, and — for 
 the outermost circle of all had a world radius — of great inter- 
 national missionary movements. 
 
 It was with reason that Mrs. McCormick's children called their 
 mother's home a half-way house between the Orient and the Occi- 
 dent. 
 
 In the different relations centering here Nettie (named Nancy) 
 Fowler McCormick is revealed. Her house, though she ranged 
 from it far and often, gave unity to her manifold interests; it gave 
 the tone of her life. For she was not a public character in the sense 
 of those who choose a career or are the devoted leaders of causes 
 — such as Frances E. Willard, Anna Howard Shaw, Elizabeth Cady 
 Stanton, Alice Freeman Palmer and others whose lives crossed the 
 dates of her own. Yet, leading the private life of a wife and mother, 
 without official position, she was a pioneer business woman. She 
 had a definite, active part in the development of a major American 
 business springing from a great American invention; the story of 
 that development is incomplete without her. She was not only the 
 wife but the business adviser, almost the partner, of her husband 
 in the expanding growth of the McCormick Harvesting Machine 
 Company. She was not only the mother but the directing power 
 of the young president of the company, Cyrus H. McCormick, 
 after his father's death in 1884. In that son's word she was at first 
 the virtual president. And for years she was the counselor of her 
 three sons in the business that eventually became a chief compo- 
 nent of the International Harvester Company. In this aspect of her 
 life there are involved, in George Herbert Palmer's term, "the 
 rights of history." 
 
 Besides — and this was still more distinctively her life — she was 
 a vital factor in the development of important movements in her 
 long day. Instead of the life of ease and social pleasure which her 
 circumstances would have permitted, she chose the unselfish way 
 of stewardship and service, and made of that choice a life task. The 
 history of education in certain definite fields would have been dif- 
 ferent without her. Certain religious world movements deeply felt 
 her influence as a giver of money, ideas, counsel, spiritual guard- 
 ianship. She helped to mold her generation or, rather, the genera- 
 tion to follow hers — for the greater part of her full-time work as a 
 Christian philanthropist centered on the world's youth. 
 
INTRODUCTION IX 
 
 And there was, in addition, something remarkable in this wom- 
 an's personality, to be preserved: a rare balance of brilliant mind 
 and ardent heart, tempered to human interest by bewildering but 
 fascinating contradictions; and above all, an extraordinary power 
 to touch the lives of others. 
 

 CONTENTS 
 
 Preface 
 
 
 V 
 
 Introduction 
 
 
 vii 
 
 Part I. St. Lawrence River Girl 
 
 
 i Ancestors and Influences 
 
 
 3 
 
 2 The Orphan 
 
 
 l l 
 
 3 Away at School 
 
 
 27 
 
 4 Courtship 
 
 
 4 1 
 
 Part II. Helpmeet 
 
 
 
 5 Honeymoon and Housekeeping 
 
 
 55 
 
 6 In and Out of Chicago 
 
 
 70 
 
 7 Sojourn in New York 
 
 
 83 
 
 8 Citizens of the New Chicago 
 
 
 96 
 
 9 The North Side — Home 
 
 
 114 
 
 Part III. At the Helm 
 
 
 
 io Head of the Family 
 
 
 *35 
 
 ii "Working His Works" 
 
 
 l 51 
 
 12 The Circle Widens 
 
 
 173 
 
 1 3 The Busy Nineties 
 
 
 178 
 
 14 Family of Two 
 
 
 192 
 
 15 Mother of the Seminary 
 
 
 201 
 
 Part IV. The Old Order Passes 
 
 
 16 The Old Order Passes 
 
 
 219 
 
 Part V. The Outstretched Hand 
 
 
 17 Light Centers in the Mountains 
 
 
 239 
 
 18 Upholding Missionary Hands 
 
 
 260 
 
 19 Serving the World's Youth 
 
 
 281 
 
 Part VI. Climax 
 
 
 
 20 Birthday Party 
 
 
 297 
 
 2 1 House-in-the-Woods 
 
 
 300 
 
 Note on Sources 
 
 
 316 
 
 Index 
 
 
 }IQ 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 These illustrations are found following page 162 
 
 Nancy (Nettie) Fowler at nearly fifteen 
 
 Maria Esselstyn Fowler and Eldridge M. Fowler — Mrs. 
 McCormick's grandmother and brother 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. McCormick shortly after marriage 1858 
 
 Mrs. McCormick 1861 
 
 Nettie Fowler McCormick 1867 
 
 Mrs. McCormick, Cyrus and Mary Virginia 1865 
 "The little boys" Harold and Stanley 1879 
 
 Mrs. McCormick at fifty 
 
 The Rush Street House Chicago 
 
 The bonnet was a feature of Mrs. McCormick's dress for years 
 
 Mrs. McCormick with her daughter, Anita McCormick 
 Blaine, and her son, Cyrus H. McCormick 
 
 Mrs. McCormick at seventy 
 
 Mrs. McCormick at House-in-the-Woods Lake Forest 1919 
 
 Childhood composition by Nancy (Nettie) Fowler 26 
 
 Genealogical Chart 3 1 7 
 
T I 
 
 ST. LAWRENCE RIVER GIRL 
 
Ckapfer 1 
 
 ANCESTORS 
 AND INFLUENCES 
 
 i-%1 ETTIE FOWLER McCORMICK was born on February 8, 
 1835 in St. Lawrence River country. 
 
 When her pioneering kinfolk went there, that part of Jefferson 
 County, New York, was deep forest with few settlements. Men 
 made clearings for their homes, burned the stumps, sold the ashes. 
 They cut the forests throughout the Great Lakes country, shipped 
 timber and ashes by lake and river to Montreal, Quebec, England. 
 Shipping developed, not only on the lake and the great river but 
 on the tributary streams: the Black River, the Chaumont, even 
 little Perch River. 
 
 Each of the villages that formed the background of her youth 
 lay on the St. Lawrence or one of the lesser rivers that feed it. 
 Brownville, her birthplace, once held rosy hopes of commercial 
 prominence through its location on the Black River. Depauville, 
 the tiny village of her little girlhood, sent its logs to the St. Law- 
 rence by way of the Chaumont, then a stream with an impressive 
 cataract. Clayton, where she grew to young womanhood, thrust 
 itself into the St. Lawrence among the Thousand Islands, and long 
 before they became a popular summer resort it was the site of 
 extensive lumbering and shipping and shipbuilding operations — 
 operations in which relatives of hers were a directing force. 
 Throughout her life the "noble" St. Lawrence, as she often called 
 it, was a precious memory. Repeatedly she referred to it — a broad 
 silver ribbon of beauty in the background of her mind, part of all 
 that was loveliest and most interesting in her youth. 
 
 The earliest appearance of Nancy Maria Fowler by name in her 
 family's papers is in a letter written by her mother, Clarissa Fowler, 
 
4 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 to her own mother, Nancy Spicer Davis, on July 13, 1835. "Little 
 Nancy M.," she wrote, "grows very finely, is a very good child. 
 You would be pleased to see her, I think." 
 
 Little Nancy, the good child (who was to be called Nettie most 
 of her life), was then a trifle over Hvq months old. The family was 
 in Depauville now, ten miles to the north of Nancy's birthplace. 
 Back in a Brownville burying ground Clarissa and Melzar Fowler 
 had left their first-born, Anson, his brief life ended nineteen days 
 after it began. But along with the infant Nancy they had brought 
 to Depauville her two-year-old brother Eldridge. Here the children 
 were fondly welcomed by their Fowler grandparents, Anson and 
 Maria. 
 
 Pioneering westward these two had settled about 1820 in Catfish 
 Falls (the early name of Depauville), then hardly more than a 
 clearing in the forest where several hills tumble together. Shortly 
 after they came Anson, hacking away a bit of the wilderness to 
 build a house with the fallen logs, had suffered an injury to his 
 head. Thereafter his power to work lessened and responsibility 
 rested heavily on the shoulders of his eldest son, Melzar, not yet 
 twenty. By 1823 (Melzar wrote to an Eastern relative) they had 
 built a house and store room under one roof, a "framed potash" 
 (that is, an ashery) and a barn and had commenced building a stone 
 store. This property lay on the northern edge of the village that 
 was to be, under a steep hill that held an Indian burying ground. 
 
 The combined business there carried on was described by 
 Melzar's daughter, Nettie Fowler McCormick, many years later: 
 
 "They carried dry goods, and they would cut the dress goods in 
 lengths for the farmers' wives, and the muslin was cut in lengths 
 for sheets. 
 
 "They had experienced men, and in winter they carried goods 
 to the country in sleighs, and took in exchange all the wood ashes 
 that the family would sell. There was a fixed price per bushel for 
 the wood ashes. . . . When a sleigh full of ashes came, they were 
 put in vats, on which warm water was poured, and there in casks 
 was distilled a wonderful lye, and that lye was collected and stood 
 until it hardened, and was then turned out, and the product was a 
 pearl, and every pearl had its price. These would be called pots 
 and pearls. As mercantile articles they were listed in the news- 
 
ANCESTORS AND INFLUENCES 5 
 
 papers. That was my father's business. He bought dry goods in 
 New York, and sold them to the people of that country. He was 
 a merchant also in hay, cheese, butter, etc." 
 
 She might have mentioned, too, the timbering and rafting enter- 
 prises that her father added to his occupations — enterprises that 
 took him from Lake St. Clair on the west down the St. Lawrence 
 to Quebec on the east. 
 
 Probably it was Anson Fowler who stayed most in the store, 
 selling (to pick at random from an invoice of 1826) dictionaries, 
 grammars, and spellers; green, yellow, red elan, sarsenet and rat- 
 tinet by the yard; red cambric, velvet, watch seals, pink silk, sus- 
 penders, combs, spectacles, spoons, ink powder, snuff, indigo and 
 copperas for dyes. 
 
 In the late eighteen twenties Melzar Fowler, perhaps under im- 
 pulsion of both romance and ambition, resolved on expansion. 
 Keeping in close touch with the "home situation" at Depauville, 
 he set up a second store and later an ashery at Brownville, bring- 
 ing his young brother John into the work there. He had high 
 hopes of Brownville, though he was shrewd enough to write: 
 "Notwithstanding my favorable views I calculate to get hold of 
 no property except such as will readily sell without loss." 
 
 This settlement, older than Depauville, was named in honor of 
 its founder Jacob Brown, who had given up teaching in the East 
 to pioneer as land agent for a French company in the Black River 
 wilderness and had chosen this spot for a settlement. During the 
 War of 1 8 1 2 Jacob Brown, now General Brown, chief in command 
 of the American forces in that area, had his headquarters in 
 Brownville in his own colonial stone mansion which, with its fine 
 setting in a deep lawn, is still Brownville's chief glory. 
 
 Riding the ten miles from Depauville, Melzar Fowler must have 
 passed General Brown's mansion on his way down the long slope 
 of Main Street to the old stone tavern or the river, or to his own 
 stone store. He would have glimpsed in the near-by streets four or 
 five other stone houses and a stone church that still give the village 
 a superior air. Not far along the river road stood in his time a row 
 of stone houses, barracks-like; one of these, once rented by Silas 
 Fish Spicer, may have been the house in which Clarissa Spicer paid 
 at least one of her long visits from Oneida County to her brother 
 
6 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 Silas. At any rate, somewhere Melzar met the lovely visitor, 
 courted and won her. And when he was ready to set up a business 
 in Brownville he was also ready to establish a home. 
 
 Clarissa Spicer's family on both sides had a Connecticut back- 
 ground. Her father was Silas Draper Spicer, her mother was 
 Nancy Fish. 
 
 Of the Fish family little is known. John Fish, an ancestor of 
 Nancy Fish, was in 1679 unanimously voted schoolmaster for 
 Stonington, Connecticut, far to the east on Long Island Sound, to 
 instruct children — "such as shall be inclined." Several of Nancy 
 Fish Spicer's generation appear to have settled in central New 
 York. Among them was a brother whose daughter, Laura Fish, 
 went with her husband, Dr. Gerrit Judd, as an early missionary to 
 Hawaii — the Sandwich Islands in their day. Dr. Judd not only 
 ministered to the people's health but became practically the power 
 behind the throne there. He was Secretary of State for Foreign 
 Affairs and at a critical time saved the Hawaiian monarchy from 
 foreign domination. His wife, a woman of rare character and abili- 
 ties, also contributed much to Hawaii's welfare. Two grandsons 
 of theirs, George Robert Carter and Lawrence McCully Judd, 
 were governors of Hawaii. Nancy Fish Spicer herself in her later 
 years (Mrs. Elijah Davis then) is glimpsed in a little packet of 
 old letters — a woman tenderly interested in the varying fortunes 
 of her large family, deeply religious, accepting the difficulties of 
 her lot with fortitude. 
 
 Her first husband, Silas Draper Spicer, was born in North 
 Groton, Connecticut where Peter Spicer, probable founder of 
 the family in America, held his first grant of land. Tradition says 
 that he came from Virginia and that his parentage was English. 
 Indeed, family tradition, fortified by reasonable assumption, 
 leaps a gap in the Spicer genealogy and finds its ancestors in the 
 Spicers who are of record in England, with numerous mayors and 
 other dignitaries in the various lines. And in the American genera- 
 tions many individuals apparently deserved the couplet: 
 
 If aught that's good or great could save 
 Spicer had never seen the grave. 
 
 It was the first Silas Spicer, Nettie Fowler's great grandfather, 
 who started the family westward. A farmer and wheelwright, in 
 
ANCESTORS AND INFLUENCES 7 
 
 1796 he moved from Connecticut to a region in the hilly center of 
 New York State and became a prosperous landowner. His eldest 
 son, Silas Draper Spicer, emigrated with his father, bringing from 
 Connecticut his wife and two little sons. 
 
 This Silas, Nettie's grandfather, died in 1 8 1 3 at Unadilla Forks. 
 The epitaph on his gravestone in the beautiful cemetery there tells 
 the startling story for later generations to read that he "shot him- 
 self instantly dead, October 20, 181 3." How and why remain 
 untold in any known record or tradition. His widow's words in 
 her quaint diary, carefully preserved by her descendants, that "the 
 20 of October, eleven years ago, was a day of great trials and deep 
 sorrows," is the one comment, poignant but unrevealing. For many 
 years his granddaughter, Nettie Fowler McCormick, had a sum- 
 mer home a few miles away from Unadilla Forks; but no letter, no 
 family memory records her knowledge of the sad legend on this 
 ancient stone. Perhaps she knew and chose not to speak. 
 
 Before Silas Draper Spicer's death, his eldest son, Silas Fish 
 Spicer, had moved north into Jefferson County where he plied his 
 joined pioneer trades of tanner and shoemaker. And when she was 
 about nineteen his sister Clarissa followed him northward. She was 
 born December 2, 1805 in the "town" of Brookfleld in what is now 
 Madison County, New York, the eighth child of her parents, 
 whose total was eleven. Nothing is known of her early life — pos- 
 sibly because her family records, held by her daughter, were lost 
 in the Chicago Fire. She was not yet eight years old when her fa- 
 ther died and there is nothing in surviving letters to suggest family 
 prosperity. But there is clear indication that this was a family 
 closely knit in affection and interest. 
 
 Clarissa went north before her mother's marriage to Elijah 
 Davis, of Sauquoit near Utica, but apparently counted her moth- 
 er's home hers. In an interval between her northern sojourns she 
 lived for some time in Utica. Here, though her mother and step- 
 father were Methodists, Clarissa joined the First Presbyterian 
 Church and a remarkable Bible class associated with its Sunday 
 school. Both Sunday school and Bible class had unusual influence 
 and vitality and far more than local fame. 
 
 In Brown ville in 1825 and indirectly in Utica Clarissa may have 
 been influenced by the outstanding revivalist of that day, Charles 
 Grandison Finney, who conducted soul-searching meetings in 
 
8 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 these and other places in the state of New York. However that 
 may be, the Utica connections clearly deepened her religious expe- 
 rience. Of the Bible class she says, "Great reason have I to Praise 
 the Lord that such an institution was ever formed." Her New 
 Year resolutions, "framed at the request of Mr. King, superintend- 
 ent of the Bible classes in Utica, on commencing the New Year 
 1827," reveal her deep piety and — in number 7 — a realism that not 
 all framers of resolutions exhibit. Her daughter preserved them: 
 
 " 1 I will by the assistance of God try to seek him with all my 
 heart 
 
 "2 I will to keep constantly in mind that my chief bisness of 
 life is to prepare my soul for eternity 
 
 "3 I will not speak evil of any one 
 
 "4 I will do to others as I would have others do unto me & keep 
 in mind the sin of liars 
 
 "5 I will strive at all times to bring doing good to my fellow 
 mortals looking unto the Lord 
 
 "6 I will every day once or more go in secret to ask the blessing 
 of God 
 
 "7 I will at least once in each week look over these resolutions 
 & strive to profit by them & may the Lord help me to keep them" 
 
 Though presently she was to join Melzar Fowler in the Meth- 
 odist Church, Clarissa had a Presbyterian connection in Brown- 
 ville — a share in a Bible class that commanded her zealous interest. 
 
 A little sheaf of letters exchanged between Melzar Fowler and 
 Clarissa Spicer and treasured by their daughter, tells the story of a 
 mutual affection. 
 
 Clarissa was responsible for opening the correspondence. The 
 two young people were only a few miles apart — Melzar in 
 Depauville, Clarissa in Brownville — but those miles were hard to 
 travel then and their meetings were not as frequent as either 
 wished. So Clarissa proposed letters — "not out of any coquettish 
 motive," she comments, "neither because I felt competent to do 
 justice in answering your letters" — and Melzar, though plainly not 
 quite sure of the point, complied. "At the moment you spoke of 
 my commencing written correspondence," he wrote, "I queried 
 what was the desired object but although you only answered that 
 
ANCESTORS AND INFLUENCES 9 
 
 you would be glad to have me write I on a moment's reflection 
 decided that you through your affection wished to learn my wel- 
 fare &c — This perfectly agrees with my feelings and though the 
 intervals between my visits may seem less to me because they are 
 at my calculation yet many a time should I have esteemed it a great 
 privilege to have read your communication." 
 
 "Affection" is the strongest word used in these "love letters," 
 but love letters they are. Melzar writes: Clarissa is "the person who 
 I anticipate will assist in happifying my life and whose life it will 
 be my greatest desire and highest pleasure to happify." Clarissa, in 
 turn: "I feel as for me it is not in my power to add any thing to the 
 happiness of any one but should I be placed where I should enjoy 
 your society more intimately it shall be the study of my life to 
 make you happy in so doing I shall add to my own." 
 
 Melzar had to make to Clarissa the immemorial explanation of 
 man to woman — business prevents, and he was clever about it. "I 
 conclude," he wrote, "that it is your pleasure that I attend to my 
 Busyness unless it appears that my presents with you will be profit- 
 able. With those views I shall endeavor to suppress my inclinations 
 for enjoying your society." 
 
 The religious strain is strong through the letters of both, 
 Melzar's reflections running rather to exposition, Clarissa's to per- 
 sonal devoutness with a marked humility and even a melancholy 
 tinge. "Our Village bells have again told the departure of an- 
 other year," she wrote on New Year's Day, 1829; "on seeing the 
 busy multitudes around me I am led to reflect with what different 
 feelings our fellow mortals welcome the anniversary — some 
 with smiling faces & hearts light with joyous anticipation eyes 
 sparkling with impatience rush forward to join the giddy dance — 
 again I see those whose countenances are sad with grief & whose 
 hearts are sunk in bitterness of thought & why! because Death is in 
 our land that cruel spoiler of human happiness what an immense 
 number of human beings have been summoned to Eternity during 
 the past year. ... I hope I have an interest in your prayers that 
 I may be prepared if I am called to go hence before the close of 
 the new born year." 
 
 On April 12, 1829 at the home of Silas Fish Spicer Clarissa and 
 Melzar were married — a dark-eyed bridegroom and a beautiful 
 blue-eyed bride, tall, slender, graceful. 
 
10 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 About all that is known of their early housekeeping arrange- 
 ments in Brownville is revealed in deeds, a lease, insurance papers. 
 Probably it began in some of the living rooms over the stone store 
 facing Main Street. Touching letters written by Melzar Fowler 
 tell simply of the birth and death of their first-born son Anson. 
 The young mother wrote, "Since the death of my little Anson 
 every worldly thing looks hardly worth possessing." 
 
 By the spring of 1832 the Fowlers appear to have lived in a 
 rented house, and it was probably here that Eldridge and Nancy 
 Fowler were born. Unfortunately Melzar's lease gives no location; 
 but there are indications that the house was on Basin Street, which 
 runs parallel to the Black River. 
 
 Despite his youth — he was not yet twenty-seven when he went 
 to Brownville — Melzar Fowler was an outstanding citizen of the 
 little village. He was a member of the building committee respon- 
 sible for putting up in 1832 the Methodist Church, which still 
 stands at the top of Main Street. Old subscription lists show his 
 $50 contribution heading the roll and prove his activity as a col- 
 lector. A stray village election ticket reveals him as candidate for 
 "Inspector of Weights and Measures." One who knew him wrote 
 of him as "a man of few words, quiet in his manners, just & Honor- 
 able in all his dealings with men . . . one of the leading men of 
 B. Ville. . . ." 
 
 But early in 1835 Melzar, finding that Brownville had not af- 
 forded "the advantages anticipated," sold that store, keeping the 
 ashery, and returned to Depauville. Business prospects there were 
 brightening. Melzar admitted, however, that he would have been 
 happy to sell both places and emigrate to the head of Lake Ontario. 
 
 The household in Depauville was a busy one. Clarissa Fowler 
 wrote, "We have a large family of men to do for." The men in the 
 immediate family were Anson and Melzar, for the second son, 
 John, had gone to the village of French Creek as Clayton was 
 often called. To these perhaps were added a clerk or two and pos- 
 sibly the men who scouted for ashes. And there was the ten-year- 
 old youngest son of the family, Richard, as well as the two little 
 children for the two women to tend. Jane Fowler, the only living 
 daughter, had married Eldridge G. Merick of Clayton, who was 
 to be a leading influence in Nancy Fowler's life. 
 
ANCESTORS AND INFLUENCES I I 
 
 Even in 1835 no doubt much of the description of Maria 
 Fowler's early pioneering days that a granddaughter of hers wrote 
 long afterward still applied to these Fowler women: 
 
 "She made her own starch from potatoes, her soda from the 
 ashes as well as her soap. The woolen dresses for winter wear, as 
 well as the coats and pants were all of her spinning, coloring and 
 weaving. And then for summer she hetcheled and spun the flax, 
 and colored the yarn, and wove checked linens for herself and 
 children. . . . Candles, too, she must make or spend the long 
 winter evenings with only the light from the great burning logs 
 in the fireplace." 
 
 Both Melzar and Clarissa were important additions to the godly 
 element in Depauville. Clarissa taught a class of little girls in the 
 Methodist Sunday school. Melzar, in his daughter's words, was 
 "a leader in the cause of Sunday schools and of the church." Tra- 
 ditions have survived that illustrate the Fowler men's characteris- 
 tics. One dates from the time when they were building the first 
 barn on the place. The neighbors, as was the friendly practice of 
 those days, were helping. But the Fowlers violated a custom — 
 though they served plenty of food, there was no liquor. So in 
 pique or in mischief, the volunteer assistants put in certain pieces 
 upside down. Reflection on the fine qualities of the Fowlers and 
 repentance overtook them at night, and before the next dawn they 
 had confessed and planned correction. 
 
 These Fowlers had for their first American ancestor "William 
 Fowler, the Magistrate," who emigrated from England in 1637 and 
 became one of the early settlers of Milford in the colony of New 
 Haven. His son John moved farther east along Long Island Sound 
 to Guilford, and Guilford remained the family residence through 
 the six generations between "the Magistrate" and Nancy Fowler. 
 It was her grandfather Anson who, leaving Connecticut for New 
 York State, pushed on to its far borders. 
 
 His wife's line, according to Esselstyn family tradition, goes 
 back to ancestors of noble rank in Holland. However that may be, 
 the first Esselstyn in America, Marten Cornelise Yesselsteyn, had 
 no title. He came from Holland about 1660 and became one of the 
 first settlers of Schenectady. Thence the family moved south to 
 the vicinity of Kingston, thence to Claverack in what became Col- 
 
12 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 umbia County where the Esselstyns leased Van Rensselaer land. 
 Here the family established itself, acquiring broad acres, large 
 numbers, and substantial standing. 
 
 Eldest of the fourth generation of Esselstyns in this country was 
 Major Richard Esselstyn, one of the early supporters of the Con- 
 tinental Congress and a soldier of the Revolution. At Claverack he 
 owned a large farm worked by slaves who received their freedom 
 under a manumission act passed by New York State after his 
 death, or perhaps were freed earlier by his word. He married twice 
 and had eleven children. The youngest child, Maria, a daughter of 
 Maria Van Alstyne Esselstyn, was left an orphan in infancy 
 and nursed by a slave who, though she claimed to be an African 
 princess, refused freedom. In 1859 a cousin of Nancy Fowler, 
 visiting at Claverack, found the ancestral home "hardly more than 
 a wreck of what it had been"; but a substantial house today con- 
 tinues the Esselstyn tradition and doubtless holds some of the orig- 
 inal structure. 
 
 As a child little Maria Esselstyn lived with a half sister, Magda- 
 lena, wife of John Nash, in Great Barrington, Massachusetts — a 
 sister so much older that the little Maria called her "Aunt Nash." 
 Let her granddaughter, Maria Merick Lyon, describe Maria Essel- 
 styn's early training. She "attended an Episcopal School where I 
 fancy little was taught beyond the 'three R's' but great pains was 
 taken with the manners and proper ways of sitting and walking. 
 Among other things they often had to wear a collar stuck full 
 of pins to make them stand straight and hold up their heads. 
 Grandma was very straight until a few years before she died. The 
 principal accomplishments were fine darning, mending, lace work, 
 embroidery, painting on satin and velvet. Grandma excelled in 
 every kind of needle-work. ... It was probably her sister who 
 taught her to spin wool and flax and also to weave." And it was 
 this same grandmother who taught Nettie Fowler to spin and to 
 sew. 
 
 Where Maria Esselstyn and Anson Fowler met, courted, mar- 
 ried no record discloses. They were married in 1802 when Maria 
 was eighteen and Anson thirty-three. Their early housekeeping 
 was in the town of Edinburgh, Saratoga County, New York, 
 where Anson kept a store and where in 1803 their first child, 
 
ANCESTORS AND INFLUENCES I 3 
 
 Melzar, was born. A letter of 1800 that shows the young Maria 
 with her brother at a place close to Edinburgh suggests that it was 
 then and there that she met Anson. 
 
 Their next home was the town of Galway not far from Sara- 
 toga Springs — already by 1 805 an elegant watering place — and on 
 one of the main arteries of early nineteenth century travel. Here, 
 according to the granddaughter's account, Maria Fowler "was 
 for some time mistress of a country tavern on the main road from 
 New England through New York, and entertained great numbers 
 of people who were migrating to Western New York, then the 
 far west. President Monroe and his wife (in the course of a tour 
 of the Eastern and Northern States) traveled in their own car- 
 riage from Washington to Saratoga, spent a night at her house, 
 and I can imagine were most hospitably entertained, and enjoyed 
 much the cooking which they greatly praised, and no doubt very 
 justly, for grandma was a most excellent cook and I can imagine 
 did her best for her exalted guests." 
 
 Two of Maria's brothers were responsible for the Fowlers' own 
 move to "the far west" — Jefferson County. Shortly after 1800 
 these two, Richard Morris Esselstyn and John Brodhead Esselstyn, 
 penetrated to the margin of the St. Lawrence River near where it 
 flows from its source in Lake Ontario — a region of scenic beauty 
 and of strategic importance in war and commerce. At the site of 
 the present village of Cape Vincent the Esselstyn brothers joined 
 the few settlers who had begun to clear the wilderness, to build 
 ferries, a fort, an inn; and they settled themselves as lumbermen 
 and storekeepers. 
 
 Neither of the brothers had come direct to this spot, and Rich- 
 ard had acted in exploring another part of the county under direc- 
 tion of James Donatius LeRay, whose part in settling Jefferson 
 County deserves mention. LeRay, whose father had in France be- 
 friended Benjamin Franklin and John Adams and the infant Ameri- 
 can republic, had become a landowner on a large scale at various 
 points in the north country; he sold land to French exiles seeking 
 security and opportunity at the time of the French Revolution and 
 later to Bonapartists driven out when Napoleon fell. Chief of these 
 was Joseph Bonaparte himself, who built a summer home on the 
 edge of Jefferson County at Natural Bridge and maintained a col- 
 
14 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 orful splendor in these wilds with his fine plate and glass and ele- 
 gant coaches. 
 
 Cape Vincent, named for James LeRay's son, held much of 
 glamour through the French residents there whose homes Nettie 
 Fowler must often have seen. The most romantic was the so-called 
 "Cup and Saucer House" — from the shape of the house and 
 cupola — which tradition held was built for Napoleon to occupy 
 when his loyal followers should have rescued him from exile on 
 Elba. 
 
 The Esselstyn brothers at Cape Vincent were highly self- 
 respecting citizens, proud of their heritage, loyal to the clan. It was 
 natural that they should urge their sister Maria and her husband to 
 join them in this opening country. When they came, the families 
 — at Depauville and on "the Cape" — maintained as much intimacy 
 as the miles between permitted. And as the Esselstyns replenished 
 the earth mightily, by the time Melzar Fowler returned to Depau- 
 ville Cape Vincent afforded plenty of cousinly relatives for his 
 young family. 
 
 Nearly a year after the date of Clarissa Fowler's letter quoted 
 earlier, she again wrote to her mother about "Nancy M." — a 
 thumbnail picture of that babyhood. "Little Nancy M.," wrote 
 Clarissa, "is a great run away and talks a great many things. 
 Eldridge M. is growing finely talks plain and has learned his 
 letters." 
 
 In the interval between the first and second letters Clarissa had 
 lost her husband and her children their father. "They are indeed a 
 great comfort to me," she continues, "but I am often called to 
 painful reflections when I look on them as fatherless children but 
 I have ... so many blessings still left me that I think it my indis- 
 pensable duty to submit with cheerfulness and strive to render 
 myself useful and those around me happy. ... I sometimes even 
 now feel to say it is God Let him do as seemeth good in his sight." 
 
 Melzar Fowler died as the result of a tragic accident in August 
 of 1855, when his son was two years old and his daughter seven 
 months; when he himself was only thirty- two and his wife three 
 years younger. He was fatally injured by the kick of his own bad- 
 tempered horse which, as he approached it in a strange stall, failed 
 to recognize its master. 
 
ANCESTORS AND INFLUENCES 1 5 
 
 Melzar was about to build a new house and was employing a 
 Watertown builder to help. On an August day he was to make an 
 early start on his fourteen-mile drive to Watertown to consult this 
 man. The day before had been a fast day and he had eaten noth- 
 ing. Unwilling to let him go without breakfast his mother rose and 
 prepared food for him. She watched him ride off down the slope, 
 across the bridge over the Chaumont, on up the steep hill beyond. 
 There on its summit he paused and presently she saw him turn his 
 horse and drive briskly back. "I could not go," he said, "without 
 prayers." 
 
 So the family had its usual Bible reading and prayer and Melzar 
 set forth again. He stopped at Failing's Hotel across the river from 
 Watertown long enough to put up his horse, transacted his busi- 
 ness in the village and returned to the hotel. 
 
 Let his daughter finish the story: 
 
 "The hostler came to father and said, 'I am feeding your horse, 
 Mr. Fowler, and I don't like his actions.' Father went out, and said, 
 "I think I can manage him." As soon as my father went up to his 
 head, he brought his hind foot forward, and kicked my father, in- 
 juring his stomach. 
 
 "Mother got the word immediately about my father being in- 
 jured, and she took me — a baby seven months old — grandmother 
 going along, and went to Watertown. Everyone said that when I 
 saw the tears on every face, I acted as if I knew something sad had 
 happened. 
 
 "My father's last words — he died within three days — were 'Into 
 thy hands, oh, Lord, I commend my spirit.' " 
 
 "Dear father," wrote Melzar Fowler's daughter many years 
 later, "he died young — very young, but so well had he done his 
 life's work that Melzar Fowler was known in the whole county 
 as a man of good judgment, of influence and he had the name of 
 always standing by the right." And at another time: "My father 
 was a leader in the cause of Sunday schools, and in the church, and 
 he had a chamber in his home for the minister, and for the circuit 
 rider. My father did not speak often in public — was not eloquent. 
 He was practical and stood for all good things in organized society 
 — in the Sunday school and the church; he supported the Bible 
 Society." 
 
1 6 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 This reputation given him by his daughter who never knew him 
 is sustained by church records and by tributes gleaned from the 
 letters of relatives and friends which that daughter treasured. 
 There is something reassuring about the persistence of such a repu- 
 tation as Melzar Fowler's. Not a prominent man, more than a hun- 
 dred years dead, still "his works do follow him." 
 
THE ORPHAN 
 
 pit^ 
 
 i 
 
 HE next seven years of Nancy Fowler's life were spent with 
 her mother and brother at Depauville — a normally happy child- 
 hood, except for the shadow on Clarissa of her husband's death and 
 after a while the deepening shadow of her own frailness. Coura- 
 geously she carried on Melzar's work. Left with a small estate, she 
 fulfilled her obligations as an administrator and as guardian of her 
 children. She carried out her husband's plans for the house as he 
 had made them. "It had a large living room and a parlor," wrote 
 her daughter, "a spacious house for those times." It still stands — 
 a pleasant little white house on the north edge of Depauville at the 
 foot of a steep hill. 
 
 Clarissa became a business woman in a day when this marked 
 her as a person of unusual resource and initiative. With the advice 
 and unflagging aid of her husband's brother-in-law, Eldridge G. 
 Merick of Clayton, she continued the store-and-ashery business 
 and by 1837 she took in a partner, one Helon Norton. 
 
 In the late thirties the little Fowlers lost the daily companionship 
 of their Fowler grandparents. As Anson Fowler's health declined 
 it was thought best for them to live by themselves. They took a 
 cottage in Clayton where their son John Fowler and their daugh- 
 ter, Jane Merick, were already established with their growing fam- 
 ilies. But little Nancy saw her four grandparents (allowing for one 
 being a "step" grandfather) together in the little house at Depau- 
 ville. Three times Nancy Spicer Davis and her second husband 
 made a three-day trip by cutter at the time of deep snow from 
 their home in Sauquoit to Jefferson County — to visit Silas Fish 
 Spicer with his many "little noisy jabbering children" and Clarissa, 
 with her small son and daughter. "Little E.M. and N.M.," Clarissa 
 
 17 
 
1 8 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 wrote when "N.M." was two, "speak often of Grandpa and 
 Grandma Davis with a great deal of joy." 
 
 Nancy Davis, however, died in April, 1839 when her namesake 
 was only four, too young to form a lasting memory. The heritage 
 she left is expressed in the record of her death on the books of the 
 Methodist Church to which she belonged: "Uniform in Piety, 
 Ardent in Zeal. Had unshaken confidence in promises of God." 
 And her son Silas wrote to his sister Clarissa, "Few have been 
 blessed with such a mother as ours was." 
 
 Of Nancy's early childhood — the years in Depauville — only a 
 few memories were recorded. In reminiscent mood late in her life, 
 she recalled her mother's holding and rocking her when she had a 
 headache; a time when her mother took her from the church to 
 the schoolhouse (very near in those days) and punished her — 
 she didn't say how — for some misbehavior in meeting ("I revere 
 her memory for it, because I know that she tried to do right by 
 her naughty child"); and the occasion on which Clarissa, returning 
 from a little absence, brought to each of her children "a beautiful 
 brown glazed earthenware cup" and on the instant the little girl 
 ran to the well to fill hers, stumbled, fell, broke it. Curiously, this 
 had been embedded in the child's Puritan conscience as a naughti- 
 ness rather than an infant grief. 
 
 The earliest way to school was stamped on her memory — 
 "George Austin [the hired man] on horseback, and mother 
 putting Eldridge up behind him. Eldridge was to hold on to 
 George Austin, and I was to ride in front next to the horse's mane, 
 and in this way went to school every morning." The road took 
 them through a bare half mile of that hilly country — down one 
 slope, across the busy river and up the steep pull to the school- 
 house. 
 
 It was her older cousin Maria Merick who recalled the activities 
 of the little house in Depauville — the brick oven where pies, cakes 
 and puddings were baked, the big fireplace with its strong iron 
 crane on which the kettles were suspended. "There were never 
 such well-cooked meats," she wrote, "as those hung up before the 
 big wood fire." And she had a clear memory not only of her 
 grandmother but of Nancy's mother. "Grandmother and Aunt 
 Clarissa were wonderful women, true and noble, bright and happy, 
 making their home a most attractive visiting place for children and 
 
THE ORPHAN 1 9 
 
 young people. Some of the happiest days of my child life were 
 spent in their simple humble home." 
 
 On the child Nancy's mind were impressed the last festivities 
 her mother planned. For her seventh birthday Clarissa invited the 
 cousins from Clayton and other playmates, "and we had nice 
 things to eat." In August of that same year, when Eldridge's birth- 
 day came Clarissa Fowler was ill, but "she had some village boys at 
 the house — They went into the field next to our house, and got 
 ears of corn which we roasted. It was a party with nice things to 
 eat. . . . Mother . . . liked us to have rational pleasures." 
 
 Nancy kept a clear picture of how her mother looked in the last 
 summer of her life. "Mother was wearing lavender in summer 
 time, and made a lavender shirred bonnet, held in shape by rattans, 
 which I remember very well, and which she made for herself." 
 
 But the deepest impression on the little girl's mind, naturally, 
 was that of the final scene in these seven years — her mother's 
 death. It is a repeated reference in her school compositions and in 
 one, "A visit to my father's and mother's grave," she told the story 
 in detail. She wrote about it to her brother in a spirit of shared 
 observance on the sad anniversary. In her journals (the earliest be- 
 ginning just before she was fifteen) for several years each Novem- 
 ber fourth was marked as a drear but sacred time of sharpened re- 
 membrance, the gloom of the season deepening her depression. 
 And more than once through the long years of her life she de- 
 scribed the scene. 
 
 Clarissa Fowler was long in failing health, probably with con- 
 sumption. ("I remember Dr. Bates burning a piece of paper in a 
 glass cup, placing it on my mother's back hoping the irritation 
 would help her.") As she grew worse Eldridge was sent to his 
 grandmother's home in Clayton and Nancy to her uncle Silas Spic- 
 er's household a few miles away in the tiny hamlet of Perch River. 
 
 Clarissa sank rapidly and one evening Helon Norton went in 
 haste for Nancy, though for some reason — perhaps the greater 
 distance — her brother was not recalled. She was brought home, 
 taken upstairs to bed, but carried down in the night to the living 
 room where Clarissa's bed had been put, to receive her mother's last 
 tender message. "I was carried a weeping child to her bedside," she 
 wrote in her diary after twelve years had passed, "& when racked 
 with pain, the thought of which fills me with anguish, and seem- 
 
20 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 ingly unconscious of the presence of any one else she, seeing my 
 grief & hearing my sobs — turned to me and said, Don't cry my 
 daughter, meet me in heaven. Oh what words! They shall live in 
 my memory forever — a beacon light to heaven." Clarissa was to 
 linger a few hours longer, but in the early morning she was gone — 
 "her pure spirit was freed from its mortal coil and borne by angels 
 who, unperceived, had mixed with the throng waiting to carry it 
 home." 
 
 The year of Clarissa Fowler's death was 1842. About eighty 
 years later the woman who had been her little daughter brought 
 from her memory a touching picture of the funeral, still fresh and 
 vivid under all the heaped-up years — a picture in spoken words so 
 like the record in the young girl's diary that the two accounts 
 blend. 
 
 "It was a bleak November day, and light snow was on the 
 ground, when mother's funeral took place, and as the church was 
 not far off — across the bridge — it was arranged that Brother and 
 I should walk behind the coffin — two little figures sadly following 
 the earthly remains of all that was dear to them. 
 
 "I remember the funeral, and I recall that they sang, 'Sister, thou 
 wast mild and lovely, gentle as the morning breeze.' They also 
 sang, 'Why should we start, and fear to die, or shake at death's 
 alarm? 'tis but the voice that Jesus sends, to call us to His arms.' 
 It was sung to the tune of China. 
 
 "The funeral was very large — for every body loved her who 
 had gone from earth forever. . . . They placed the coffin after 
 the sermon was over out doors so that all might look for the last 
 time on features in life so radiant with kindness to all — many felt 
 they had lost their adviser, their friend, & one to whom they were 
 wont to tell all their tales of sorrow or woe. They bore her to the 
 grave yard which was about two miles from the village slowly & 
 sadly." 
 
 The short journey from her mother's grave at Corbin's Corners 
 near Depauville to her grandmother's home at Clayton, seven 
 miles away, opened the second chapter in Nancy Fowler's life. 
 Now she was an orphan, her father lost to her before she knew 
 him, her beloved mother gone. "Dear old Grandpa put his hands 
 on our heads [she recalled that "cold, dreary night" years later], 
 & with quivering lips gave us a welcome — and Grandma who 
 
THE ORPHAN 2 1 
 
 brought us home, tried to make us cheerful, tried to have us eat 
 something which she had fixed nice for our supper, but oh, when 
 the time came to go to bed, not to bid mother good night — to sleep 
 so far from her, to feel that never again would she have us kneel 
 down, one at each side of her, as she sat in her chair & with our 
 hands in hers teach us to say 'Our Father,' never again with a voice 
 sweeter to us than any other music say 'Good night' — oh it "was 
 the first taste of the bitter cup which every orphan drinks!" 
 
 But it was not to a childhood of greatly changed circumstances 
 that her mother's death brought her. From a simple comfortable 
 home in one village she went to a simple comfortable home in an- 
 other; from one atmosphere of love to another already familiar to 
 her. And for this she was grateful, repeatedly checking her grief 
 for her orphanhood with appreciation of so much affection and 
 kindness. "God in a particular manner 'tempered the wind to the 
 shorn lambs,' " she wrote as a young girl, "when he opened the 
 hearts of dear friends to take in two children. We have never 
 known want — and unkindness has ever been a stranger" 
 
 The home that Grandmother Fowler opened to Nancy and 
 Eldridge was a pleasant little two-story cottage around the corner 
 from the larger homes of their uncle John Fowler and their 
 uncle-in-law Eldridge G. Merick — all so close to the broad St. 
 Lawrence that its waters and the masts of ships met the children's 
 eyes every time they went from one relative's house to another's. 
 The two children had an intimate place in all three households and 
 for the first time enjoyed the daily companionship of cousins not 
 far from their own ages — Maria, Ermina, and Melzar Merick, 
 Caroline, Delia, and Milo Fowler. Nancy was almost an adopted 
 daughter in Eldridge Merick's home and he made himself responsi- 
 ble for her support, giving her besides warm love and wise guid- 
 ance. But it was Maria Fowler who took the place of her mother. 
 
 By all accounts Maria Fowler was a woman of rare nobility of 
 character, strong, pious, wise, self-sacrificing, courageous, and 
 warm-hearted, capable of giving the children tender loving care 
 without a grandmother's spoiling. Everybody in the related fam- 
 ilies honored and loved her. And Nancy's journals abound in ten- 
 der references to her dear grandmother who "has ever thrown 
 round me a mother's protection, and bound my bleeding heart 
 with a mother's affection." There may have been a special bond 
 
2 2 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 between her and her grandmother in that Maria Fowler too had 
 grown up in orphanhood. 
 
 Another new factor in Nancy's molding was the St. Lawrence 
 River itself. As a little girl she must often have seen it; now she 
 lived on its shores. We had better glance at Clayton and the river 
 before we look more closely into her grandmother's house and 
 Nancy's life there. 
 
 Built on a promontory thrust into the St. Lawrence, Clayton 
 barely escaped being an island. Only a stretch of seven or eight 
 hundred feet of land at the top of the town between two bays 
 make it a peninsula. "Made land" has since widened the town on 
 both sides, but without changing the plan of streets that was laid 
 out before Nancy Fowler's time. The main street ran along the 
 river front as it does today. Nearly at one end was the steamboat 
 landing for lake-and-river boats. Next to it was the office of 
 Merick, Fowler, and Esselstyn, where Nancy's two uncles and a 
 cousin carried on their business. At the other end was their ship- 
 yard where were built with one or two exceptions all the steam- 
 boats forming the line of boats on Lake Ontario and the St. 
 Lawrence River on the American side. Now the city hall stands 
 on the site of the shipyard, but in earlier days the bows of ships in 
 building extended over the street near the Mericks' house. 
 
 It was a colorful waterfront then with rafting in French Creek 
 Bay and shipbuilding not far away and the beauty of river traffic, 
 sailing vessels as well as sidewheelers, always in sight in the summer. 
 
 All of this color and activity appealed keenly to Nancy Fowler. 
 The river was the constant foreground of her growing years. She 
 rowed on it, fished in it; she traveled on the family boats in and 
 out of the lovely islands, up and down those winding shores; she 
 watched the work of shipbuilding and of making timber into rafts; 
 she listened to old tales about the St. Lawrence, reveled in its 
 beauty of water and shore line and sunrise and sunset. In the spring 
 she looked for the first break in the ice that foretold returning 
 life to the river and release of the winter-bound village. "As I was 
 passing down the street toward the Post Office," she wrote one 
 April first, "I thought I saw an open place in the limpid waters of 
 the St. Lawrence. In my inmost soul I cried 'J°v' Joy!' ' 
 
 In that little house a few blocks from the "noble river," the din- 
 
THE ORPHAN 23 
 
 ing room appeared to be the gathering place. There are glimpses 
 of the invalid grandfather reading before morning prayers, of 
 grandmother sewing at her stand pulled into the middle of the 
 room, of a little dark-eyed girl with a composition started on her 
 slate, sitting on a lounge beside the teacher-boarder who might 
 give her a helpful word. Brother Eldridge appears more dimly, for 
 he was not to stay there as long as his sister. Richard Fowler, 
 the children's youngest uncle, seventeen when they came to the 
 little house, was in the group for the first five years except when 
 school took him away for a while. One Hannah, so shy she could 
 hardly lift her eyes, helped with the work and was "almost a sis- 
 ter" to Nancy. 
 
 There was plenty of work to do in this little house that held the 
 afflicted grandfather and often a boarder, and Nancy did her 
 share. She learned to cook and sew and spin and keep a house in 
 order. Her aunt Jane Merick was later to carry on her instruction, 
 and by the time she was a young girl she could confidently men- 
 tion in her journal such accomplishments as making pumpkin pies, 
 preserving peaches and even preparing turkey dinners. 
 
 After a few years brother and sister were separated for a time. 
 Eldridge was sent to Perch River, to be trained in the general 
 store of Hugh Smith, whose wife was a Spicer cousin. Mr. Smith, 
 upright but narrow, believed in hard work and no play, and young 
 Eldridge during that part of his boyhood did not live in the free 
 pleasant atmosphere that his sister and Clayton cousins enjoyed. 
 
 For her, aside from the joys of the river, there were horseback 
 riding, "happy trips into the woods" for trillium and sweet William 
 and jack-in-the-pulpit, visits to the Spicer cousins who overran the 
 stone house at Perch River and shared with her such varied enjoy- 
 ments as making dams in the brooks, fishing, and family prayer 
 around the great fireplace. Early morning walks — about half an 
 hour after sunrise — became a lovely habit which brought to the 
 pages of her journal charming descriptions of the exquisite morn- 
 ing scenes so characteristic of the St. Lawrence country. She 
 wrote as if to preserve all this blue and gold and opalescence and 
 flame for her own enjoyment. 
 
 Nancy took her place early in the Methodist Sunday school and 
 church which her people had helped to found. A4aria Fowler was 
 
24 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 a pillar of the little church, all the elder Fowlers were active mem- 
 bers and even Eldridge Merick, though a "liberal Universalist,' , 
 became a trustee. 
 
 The records of the church do not show the date of Nancy's 
 joining either as probationer or full member, but she is noted in 
 1854 as a "long time member." She sang in the choir, played the 
 melodeon in church and attended those old Methodist institutions, 
 quarterly meeting, love feast, and class meeting. By the time she 
 was seventeen she was teaching a Sabbath school class of five little 
 boys, two of whom wept when she was to leave them. 
 
 With the Fowler and Merick cousins, and part of the time her 
 brother, Nancy's education went on smoothly. Not content with 
 the school that had been set up in Clayton a few years before, 
 Eldridge Merick had taken the initiative in organizing a select 
 school. On his own land near his home he built the "yellow school- 
 house" — a one-room building, painted yellow, where his children 
 and those of cooperative neighbors had the best teachers that the 
 region afforded. 
 
 At least six teachers — three women and three men — presided 
 over Nancy's instruction. She dismissed the first, kindly unnamed, 
 in a few lines of a school composition: "She was an 'Old Maid'' 
 there that makes it all out that comprehends the whole. And when 
 she fixed those cold gray eyes and that furrowed forehead for a 
 storm every schollar quailed beneath her gaze." 
 
 Then came two younger women, each in succession a boarder 
 in Maria Fowler's home, each truly "dear teacher," beloved and 
 admired — Mary Taggart ("our Mary") and Cordelia Ingerson. 
 Mary and Delia shared happily in the life of the cottage, paid visits 
 after they left Clayton, and held pleasant memories of "the little 
 girl with an inquiring mind." "I felt," wrote Mary Taggart, "that 
 if that inquiring mind was rightly directed it would become strong 
 & possess knowledge with understanding." 
 
 Three men followed. There is an amusing flicker of schoolgirl 
 rivalry in the journal entries about the third, John Felt. It appears 
 that he was attracted by Harriet Angel — whom indeed he later 
 married — and that Harriet charged Nancy (aged fifteen) with try- 
 ing to win him from her. "When I fish," writes Nancy, "I fish for 
 fish not for minnows. No the dear she may have him for all my 
 objections." 
 
THE ORPHAN 25 
 
 Maria Fowler saw to it that her charges applied themselves. 
 "Grandma made Eldridge and me study our lessons in the morn- 
 ing. We studied by candle light. That was something to remember. 
 We got up early, and we enjoyed it. In winter Nathan would come 
 over very early from Aunt Jane's house to make our fires." 
 
 On her last day at the yellow schoolhouse the fifteen-year-old 
 Nancy in pensive mood told her journal: 
 
 "Last day of our school. . . . Our examination yesterday. . . . 
 I have daily crossed the threshold of its door for years — a happy 
 joyous child. There I read my first composition under the guid- 
 ance of my dear instructress. I look back with pleasure upon my 
 early years. And my later years are also fraught with much I love 
 to remember." 
 
 A packet of those compositions that she drafted on her slate and 
 read in school or at the "Clayton Literary Association" survives — 
 a packet holding well over a hundred signed by her (signed vari- 
 ously Annette, Nett, Nancie, Nancy, Nettie). The earliest date is 
 1845, though some of the undated compositions w T ere probably 
 written earlier and the others run almost through her school life. 
 Within the limits of the yellow schoolhouse period there are such 
 titles as "The Glory and Shame of Clayton," "Uncertainty of 
 Life," "Good Behaviour," "A Ramble in the Forest," "Autobiog- 
 raphy of a Candle," "Gentleness," "The Little Buisy Bee," "Deal 
 gently with the Stranger's Heart," "Woman the Noblest gift of 
 Heaven," "The Glory of Alan Passe th Away," "Impressions on 
 Seeing a frightened mouse." 
 
 Vigorous and original in manner, the compositions are highly 
 moral and religious on the pattern of the devout Methodism of the 
 young writer's time. The small girl in retrospective mood even re- 
 flects on her giddiness at the age of five. A sense of the swift pas- 
 sage of life, the nearness of death, though characteristic of her day 
 was heightened no doubt by her own loss. Patriotic feeling and 
 fervent admiration of Washington are repeated notes. (". . . who 
 would fight 7 years 9 months 1 day and not say 'Oh I am tired of 
 fighting I let them have America' I dare say if it had been anybody 
 but Washington, they would have given it up . . .") Intemper- 
 ance ("Oh drunkness . . . thou are the thing from whence evry 
 evil flows") received heavy condemnation. Love and enjoyment 
 
l6 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 of nature are often shown, with special attention to cataracts — so 
 characteristic of the countryside she knew. And though the 
 child's compositions in general are intensely serious a pleasant sense 
 of humor sometimes glints through. 
 
 
 s 
 
 J^^l^ M&aL/- fc*> um/Am< */ Ufa 
 ^u^ffid^ a>^cl W~ f*^ L^i^^^^lCf 
 
 +juLs\* til *tZC* 4Mm~ c\^i^ci^ HS^^c 
 
AWAY AT SCHOOL 
 
 I 
 
 N THE summer after her fifteenth birthday Nancy began her 
 schooling away from home. It was to take her for a year each to 
 three different schools — two Methodist and coeducational, one a 
 famous girls' seminary — with two intervals of a year at home. 
 
 The first school was Falley Seminary at Fulton, New York 
 where Nancy was sent in the company of her brother and three 
 Clayton cousins, Ermina and Melzar Merick and Carrie Fowler. 
 Eager though she always was for schooling Nancy dreaded the 
 parting — " . . . tomorrow's sunset finds me in a land of stran- 
 gers," she wrote in her earliest journal. "I have never been from 
 home before any length of time — and childish tears gushed thick 
 and fast from my unwilling eyes." 
 
 Like most summer journeys from Clayton (then still untouched 
 by a railroad), the trip to Fulton began on the St. Lawrence. "This 
 morn at five the Steamer Ontario left Clayton dock fast in the dis- 
 tance — bearing us away. Several of our acquaintance parted with 
 us at the wharf notwithstanding the early hour. White handker- 
 chiefs fluttering in the wind & the many responses from the dock 
 made me think truly that I was leaving home." Nine hours on the 
 river and Lake Ontario brought them to the port of Oswego, 
 whence the trip continued a few miles inland by the "cars" to 
 Fulton and ended at a house where the girls were to board until 
 the new Seminary building was ready. 
 
 These three were known — admiringly — as the "Clayton trio." 
 Seen in a daguerreotype of the period, they were three amiable 
 young ladies, each with a high collar of white lace or embroidery, 
 each with her hair parted in the middle and covering her ears. 
 Nancy's, without wave or puffs, is a lovely frame for her sweet 
 
 27 
 
2 8 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 face with its direct eyes, delicate nose, softly firm lips, and smooth 
 brow. She wears a dark silk with pointed bodice and lace mitts. 
 
 The school at Fulton, born in a Presbyterian church sixteen 
 years before, was now Methodist — under the care of the Black 
 River Conference. It had an honorable history, a good standing, 
 and in this year of 1 850-1 851 more than two hundred students. El- 
 dridge Merick was on the Board of Visitors. There was an ade- 
 quate faculty and a careful set of regulations which Eldridge 
 Fowler thought "rather strict." Church attendance was required 
 and students were forbidden on the Sabbath to "go abroad into 
 the fields or frequent the village." They were forbidden to visit 
 taverns and groceries, or to be absent from their rooms over night 
 without permission. Visits of gentlemen to lady students were of 
 course supervised. 
 
 In her diary Nancy has little to say about actual school work, 
 except for the gratifying item that her standing (read out with all 
 the others in chapel) was 496 for one term out of a possible 500, 
 and for another 494. But an old catalogue shows that the Seminary 
 offered its students a chance not only at the classics, French and 
 such stand-bys as Algebra, Willard's Universal History, Astron- 
 omy, Evidences of Christianity (Paley's of course), but also 
 Meteorology and, if you please, "Book Keeping." School began on 
 August first and ran in three terms through June. The tuition de- 
 pended on what the pupil took. "Higher English, Mathematics, 
 Ancient and Modern Languages," was $6.50. Instruction in music 
 mounted to $12. "Oil Painting, Tufted Embroidery, Satin Work, 
 and Pellis Work" (a mystery, but possibly a kind of taxidermy) 
 were accomplishments to be introduced a little later. 
 
 In the fall term the trio had to "mount a long hill three or four 
 times daily," to reach the Seminary; but on returning from vaca- 
 tion on December 4 they moved into the new hall. It was a hand- 
 some four-story brick structure with pillars, cupola, and bell, lo- 
 cated on an elevation facing the Public Square and commanding 
 "a delightful and extensive view of the surrounding country." The 
 Clayton trio had the thrill of being the first diners in the new hall. 
 Here the charges were $1.50 a week for board and room, "stove, 
 table, washstand, chairs, and the washing of eight pieces." "Ladies" 
 paid twenty-five cents a week for the carrying of wood to their 
 
AWAY AT SCHOOL 29 
 
 rooms during the cold season. Total charges for the year were 
 estimated by the Seminary at about $150. 
 
 A neatly kept account book of "N. M. Fowler" records not her 
 regular school costs, but her incidentals — such items as bonnet 
 lining, .18; collection for sick girl, .13; ride to camp meeting, .25; 
 maple sugar, .10; missionary, .06 and another time .25; going to 
 Oswego, .50. 
 
 Evidently Nancy shone at once in the field of writing. One of 
 the editors of Clayton's Lily of the Valley, she soon appears as a 
 co-editor of Falley's Offering and when the Offering was suc- 
 ceeded by the Sheaf and the Eclectic Sheaf, "N. M. Fowler" con- 
 tinued to edit or serve on a publishing committee. Among her con- 
 tributions were "Womans Sphere!!," "Sunrise," "Bygone days," 
 "Earthly glory passeth away," and "Gethsemane." The last is the 
 leading contribution in an eleven-page script copy of the Sheaf 
 that was read on an important occasion; but let her journal tell it: 
 
 "March 7 [1850] This evening the Rev Mr Raymond from 
 Syracuse lectured before the Peithologian Society of the Sem. Be- 
 fore this Society a paper, edited weekly by the Parthenian Soc, is 
 read. The gentlemen of the first mentioned Soc. were anxious that 
 another No. of the 'Sheaf should be edited and read before them 
 on the evening of the lecture. Julia and myself were appointed the 
 editresses — accordingly this eve we read our paper before a 
 crowded house and many were the bright glances turned on us. I 
 was not frightened. The lecture was very good indeed. My com- 
 pany home " 
 
 The blank is hers — typical of her distrust of a journal when the 
 subject was too intimate. Her journal flickers with half references 
 to "moonlight" and "that evening!" and "important letters." But 
 at least once in the Falley period she boldly mentions a name: 
 
 "Albert accompanies Carrie and myself to the Sem. I cannot say 
 / love, but when I look upon the noble form of A a feeling rises in 
 my heart which I fain would, but cannot suppress — and I am 
 obliged to admire. But really Nettef is your ability to withstand all 
 such temptations suddenly failed you? 
 
 "But mayhap, yes, in all probability, the morrow will banish 
 every thought of girlish fancy " 
 
 At any rate "A" vanished with little more attention. Nancy 
 
30 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 thought on seeing him later that he wasn't as "pretty" as he used to 
 be. 
 
 Her outside activities were extensive and apparently delightful. 
 The rules did not interfere with walks in good company along the 
 "foaming Oswego," boating "upon a quiet little lake which sleeps 
 nestled in the forest, a mile from town," chestnutting, sleigh rides, 
 long drives, horseback expeditions with return by moonlight, 
 happy times with visiting relatives, and two pleasant stays with 
 family friends at Oswego. On the more serious side Nancy attended 
 a meeting on the Fugitive Slave Law when feeling against it ran 
 high. She went to temperance meetings, Methodist class meetings 
 and church, and lectures. And throughout it is clear that she was 
 popular with her schoolmates, girl and boy. 
 
 A few weeks after her return from Falley Nancy herself became 
 a teacher — in the same yellow schoolhouse where she had been a 
 pupil. "This morning," she wrote on August 20, "I commenced 
 my school. Teaching is something I have, from childhood, loved 
 to think of. I always loved children and to preside over a body of 
 youth and 'to go to Italy' was once the ambition of my life. I think 
 the children seemed pleased with me." 
 
 She refers to this first teaching experience only twice more — 
 once to say that she dismissed school so that she could entertain a 
 visitor from Fulton and once to record, "My scholars have been 
 unusually noisy." From the account of her sociable comings and 
 goings, by river and road, one deduces that her first teaching ex- 
 perience did not last many months. 
 
 That December Nancy's grandfather died. She was one of those 
 who watched beside him in his last moments. Writing the news to 
 her Uncle Richard, she said: 
 
 "You remember R — when you parted with us you said, 'Let 
 me kiss my father for the last time.' Yes — you did — for this after- 
 noon at two o'clock he breathed his last. . . . For four days he 
 has lain insensible. But now he has gone to his reward! To occupy 
 that 'mansion' which the Lord 'went to prepare' for the faithful." 
 
 The accustomed life in Maria Fowler's "cottage home" was 
 ending. Her helper Hannah had married and left, her son Richard 
 had gone pioneering to Michigan. When Nancy was invited to 
 spend the summer of 1852 in Sandusky, Ohio, with prospect of a 
 year at Troy Female Seminary to follow, Grandmother Fowler 
 
AWAY AT SCHOOL 3 I 
 
 was ready to give up her house and move in with the Mericks. 
 "She says she cannot think of staying when Nancie is gone." 
 
 The trip to Sandusky took Nancy into new scenes and experi- 
 ences. Her Uncle Merick had become interested in the building of 
 a railroad from Sandusky to Newark, Ohio, tapping a wheat re- 
 gion and connecting with his shipping interests. His eldest daughter, 
 Maria — now Mrs. Isaac Lyon — was living in Sandusky. Most of 
 the family visited her during the summer, but Nancy and Melzar 
 were elected to stay for weeks. 
 
 In an account of the trip written to her brother Nancy pictures 
 the usual manner of approaching Niagara Falls in May 1852. 
 
 At Lewiston "there were about fifteen 4-horse stages waiting 
 for passengers for the Falls. The old railway is abandoned. It was 
 very cold indeed. Arrived at the Falls at 1 1 a.m. So cold we did not 
 go to the Falls. After dinner took cars for Buffalo where we staid 
 over night." 
 
 In Sandusky Nancy was delighted with her cousin's "beautiful 
 residence," the blooming gardens and the fine Ohio strawberries. 
 One day they went to Newark on Uncle Merick's railroad and 
 Nettie marveled at the conveniences of the country seat of an ac- 
 quaintance, "He has tubes carrying water up stairs. His bath room 
 can be furnished with cold or hot water by simply turning a fau- 
 cet." 
 
 But the crowning experience was a dinner in Sandusky at a 
 "splendid place here owned by Mrs. Follett." "A more sumptuous 
 dinner I never sat down to [writes Nancy] — first course was soup 
 — asparagus soup. This was removed. Then came meats and vege- 
 tables of every variety — a quantity of catsup, jelly, etc. Next came 
 cold ham and lettuce. That was taken off and pie was served — 
 lemon and cocoanut — very delicious. Next came ice cream. This 
 was all removed and fruit brought on — consisting of oranges, 
 prunes, figs, apples, raisins, etc." She adds, "So after tasting a little 
 of each a good appetite must have been satisfied." 
 
 Back in Clayton Ermina and Nettie prepared for their second 
 dip into higher education — this time at one of the foremost schools 
 of the day for young ladies. The journal, revived from a summer's 
 sleep, records in September: "Again we grasp the warm hand of 
 dear friends in sad parting, for Mina and I are to become school 
 girls again — Very soon we shall be within the walls of Troy Fern. 
 
32 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 Sem., subject to its 'rule and discipline.' " Maria Merick had been 
 a pupil there and the new scholars, accompanied by Mrs. Merick, 
 were cordially welcomed. Nancy was enrolled as "Nancy M. V. 
 Fowler," though where the V. came from no one remains to say. 
 Perhaps she decided occasionally to be Van Esselstyn to the extent 
 of an initial. Throughout her life, indeed, she signed her name 
 variously for reasons unknown — Nancy, Annette or Nettie, the 
 name most used in the long years of her adult life. 
 
 Founded by the able and picturesque Emma Willard, Troy Fe- 
 male Seminary was housed in an "immensely large building, some- 
 times termed 'the prison,' " which stood almost in the center of the 
 "very pretty town" of Troy. Though it was now conducted by 
 her son John Willard and his wife Sarah, Mrs. Emma Willard, re- 
 tired, still had her home on the campus — a figure of authority and 
 distinction. On their first day she invited Mrs. Merick to bring in 
 her "daughters" for tea. Here she presided as always with courtly 
 kindness in an "ample silk gown and graceful white turban." 
 
 Nancy's studies, at least in the first term, were Universal Geog- 
 raphy, using the text book written by Woodbridge and Willard; 
 Universal History, taught in connection with Mrs. Willard's chart, 
 the "Temple of Time," wherein groups of pillars, each pillar repre- 
 senting a century, made history vivid; Natural Theology — Paley's; 
 French; Music, with composition exercises once a week and some- 
 thing called "lecture," which seems to correspond to modern 
 "assembly," twice a week. There must have been other subjects 
 too in other terms, for Nancy wrote to her brother at the close of 
 the year: "We are . . . in the middle of examination. Our history 
 comes Monday and Botany Tuesday — I fear and tremble — if I 
 do well I will tell you, if I do not, I will say nothing about it and 
 don't say anything to me about it." And in a request manuscript of 
 1 9 14 about the Seminary, she said: "Miss Hastings had most beau- 
 tiful ways of teaching hydraulics and hydrostatics." 
 
 Modesty alone, it appears, could have caused her concern about 
 the examination, for she was a brilliant student. Letters to her 
 brother show her conscientiousness as well as her deep religious 
 feeling, her quick sympathy: 
 
 "I have to regret each night that the day spent has not found me 
 farther advanced up Science hill. I like school — but even here one 
 
AWAY AT SCHOOL 33 
 
 may slip through and get a diploma without deserving it — that is 
 not the way I should do — I would earn it or not take it." 
 
 "Am trying still to live a Christian amid all the temptations of a 
 boarding school. I make many crooked paths but my strength is 
 in my Saviour. . . . My dear brother, death is around us — very 
 near us, and let us be reconciled to God — for what will all the 
 world be to us in death. . . . 
 
 "It has been very, very cold here today. Just as I had finished 
 that sentence the bell commenced ringing for fire. Oh my heart 
 bleeds for those who are turned out of house and home this sting- 
 ing cold night. While Mina and I are sitting cozily round our little 
 stove while the fire burns brightly, we forget that our fellow crea- 
 tures are suffering with cold. And do not all of us shut our hearts 
 to the suffering of the poor and distressed around us. Oh it is a 
 dreadful thing to suffer from cold, want and hunger." 
 
 A few more letters of the young student to aunt and grand- 
 mother, more unstudied than those to her brother, give glimpses of 
 her everyday life: Nancy, stronger than Ermina, does the morning 
 work in their little room. Each has served her turn at baking "with 
 great credit," Nancy wrote (of herself), "to those who have had 
 the care of my early education in that department." They revel in 
 boxes sent from home containing cakes, morning dresses, aprons, 
 pinking, apples, and cherished daguerreotypes. "We do not take 
 dancing lessons, and have said nothing to our pastor about it." If 
 this included even the dancing in the dormitory of which the 
 founder warmly approved, then indeed was the Methodism of 
 Nancy and Ermina a sturdy plant. 
 
 The same little account book that she used at Falley served also 
 at Troy for one term. Some of the items are: a bonnet, $3.50; one 
 pair of shoes, $2.75; another $1.50; a daguerreotype, $3.00; a pres- 
 ent for Grandma, 50 cents; while a Miss Thompson and a Mrs. 
 Jones each got a gift, costing 25 cents and 12 54 cents. 
 
 Toward the close of the year Mr. Willard invited the "ladies of 
 the Seminary" to visit his mother — "accordingly at 8 x / 2 we repaired 
 to the house of Madam Emma. . . . Mattie Burton and myself sang 
 a duett. . . . Several others also were sung which helped to en- 
 liven the party. . . . 'Mrs. Emma' entertained her guests with 
 the ease & ability of a woman many years her junior. I think her to 
 
34 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 be a truly noble woman — a pioneer in the cause of female educa- 
 tion — by her own exertions she has attained the eminence upon 
 which she stands. May I be like her in some respects however I 
 should not wish to imitate her — for 'tis said that she is very 
 egotistical — but if any one has a right to indulge vanity 'tis her." 
 
 Nettie — more often Nettie now than Nancy — spent the next 
 year in Clayton while her cousin Ermina went back to Troy. "I 
 know it was not the best for both E. and self to leave Aunt at the 
 same time," she wrote to Eldridge in the fall of 1853. "Although 
 they all said I must go, and Mina thought she could hardly go 
 without me, I think I shall be as happy at home this winter trying 
 to make those around me happy as at school." Eldridge had gone 
 that fall to the rough lumbering regions near Lake St. Clair where 
 eastern Michigan meets Canada, working for his youngest uncle, 
 Richard Fowler. During the summer Nettie and her grandmother 
 had visited there and a friendship with an associate of her Uncle 
 Richard was continued by correspondence. It was to give Nettie 
 a thrilling problem later on. 
 
 Her winter occupations at Clayton included the usual social 
 interests of a young lady at home and some measure of housework 
 — not heavy probably, for Mrs. Merick always had a helper, but 
 this was a hospitable home and every one took a hand. "Every 
 lesson in the domestic art is 'worth gold — yea more," Nettie wrote. 
 
 One of her letters shows her a bit self-conscious, though eager 
 not to be, with friends who had not been away at school. "The 
 girls," she wrote, "all seem very much pleased to see me and are 
 really quite friendly. Indeed, they have no reason for any other 
 than friendly treatment to me because I have ever shown them 
 kindness and attention, when at home, and have even gone out of 
 my way sometimes, so they might not judge me haughty or im- 
 portant." 
 
 She must have succeeded, for the letters reveal her in easy as- 
 sociation with numerous young people of Clayton and the neigh- 
 boring villages. She tells her brother faithfully the news of mar- 
 riages and deaths and parties and who was "paying his distresses" 
 to whom. She sang at a school exhibition, went to an occasional 
 party, exchanged visits with friends and relatives along the river 
 or in Watertown, attended church regularly, and reported enjoy- 
 ment of a series of Sunday evening lectures on "Ecclesiastical His- 
 
AWAY AT SCHOOL 35 
 
 tory." Lectures appeared to interest her more than dances. Telling 
 Eldridge of a ride and ball from which a group of their young 
 Clayton friends returned about 2 ^ clock a.xM. (the italics are hers) 
 she adds: "Oh, brother, what is there in such amusements to satisfy 
 the cravings of the immortal mind. I prefer to take a book and 
 peruse — or attend to those duties by which home is made happy. 
 Oh how insignificant will these vanities appear when age dims the 
 eye and whitens the jetty locks of youth." 
 
 For the last year of her schooling, 1 854-1 855, Nettie Fowler 
 went to the Genesee Wesleyan Seminary at Lima, in western New 
 York. She had sought by letter the advice of a friend of her par- 
 ents, John Dempster, a mighty man in Methodism, then connected 
 with the Methodist General Biblical Institute at Concord, New 
 Hampshire. Addressing the nineteen-year-old girl as "my dear 
 Sister Fowler," Dr. Dempster answered her inquiry about "the 
 most eligable institution for the closing year of your studies." He 
 named the Genesee Wesleyan, another Methodist institution, pre- 
 ferring it to "many fine female schools in New England and else- 
 where" because it had "both departments" (coeducation, in short), 
 and in such he believed "a better education is generally obtained." 
 
 Even the great Dr. Dempster's word was not accepted without 
 further consideration. Mrs. Merick and Melzar, accompanying 
 Nettie by boat to Rochester, took her in a hack to inspect the rec- 
 ommended seminaries of that city. Later they drove down the 
 plank road to Lima and "so charming a country I never passed 
 through," wrote Nettie. 
 
 "Aunt seemed more favorably impressed with this school than 
 with any which we visited, & after dinner, which by the way was 
 the best I ever took in a boarding school, made arrangements for 
 me to stay." 
 
 The beauty of setting of this school appealed strongly to Nettie. 
 "V\ riting to her brother shortly after her arrival she said: "Now I 
 sit me down in my uncarpeted cheerless room, No 6 L, 4th Hall, 
 Genesee Wesleyan Seminary. . . . Before me is spread one of the 
 most beautiful landscapes I ever beheld. The Seminary and college 
 buildings are situated upon a high hill; and this circumstance taken 
 in connection with my elevation from the ground renders the view 
 from my window very commanding. The country around here is 
 beautiful — smooth fields, springing with verdure, venerable woods, 
 
36 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 just beginning to assume their autumnal tints, while far away in the 
 distance, are the blue hills of Canada." She enjoyed this autumnal 
 beauty, too, as her habitual early morning walks revealed it. One 
 day she wrote: "I chose the path over the gully, through a long 
 row of locusts, to the open woods. The path was thickly strewn 
 with leaves of almost every hue, and still they fell, though not a 
 breath stirred them, still, silently as angels wings they cleft the air." 
 
 On the same campus with the Seminary stood Genesee College, 
 also coeducational though men predominated. And in their senior 
 year the Seminary students had their classes in the college. Senior 
 work was evidently what Nettie Fowler took, for she counted it 
 her good fortune to have the college professors as teachers. She 
 liked the school — liked it even better than Troy Female Seminary 
 — and it is a fair guess that she enjoyed having a mixed faculty 
 again, as at Falley, and the interesting association with both men 
 and women students. 
 
 The old Record of Studies (whereon her name appears as Nettie 
 M.V. Fowler, no longer Nancy) reveals that she studied French, 
 Rhetoric, Logic, Natural Philosophy and — actually — Electricity, 
 while her journal adds Chemistry, Music, and Oil Painting. This 
 was her first venture into painting and she had her own considered 
 reasons for taking it. "I have taken painting and have made some 
 proficiency in that beautiful art," she wrote after a few months' 
 study. "I deem the fine arts as excellent aids in the development of, 
 or rather in the cultivation of those finer feelings which character- 
 ize the truly refined — Not less are they helpful as means of cul- 
 tivating the moral part of our nature. . . ." 
 
 For the first time she was away at school alone and she chose to 
 room alone in order to study better. Knowing this would prob- 
 ably be her last year of "scholastic life," she resolved to "improve 
 it well." And there is evidence in the self -revelations of her journal 
 that she succeeded, not only in her studies but in the development 
 of her mind and the enrichment of her personality. 
 
 She had to struggle against the effect of a year's interval in con- 
 centrated study. "I must rise very early & get my Logic lesson — oh 
 I want so much to have perfect lessons, but do not feel like taking 
 the requisite pains, unless I whip up my forgetful spirits." 
 
 Yet for all her self-blame she was confident of her powers. 
 Though she had six weeks' work to do to catch up with her classes 
 
AWAY AT SCHOOL 37 
 
 (having entered late because Melzar had been ill) she said, "But 
 that I can do in one," and when a test in Chemistry (the subject she 
 found most difficult) was given to the college but not to the semi- 
 nary classes she was sure she could have passed it. She was no 
 doubt right, for 40 "merits" being the maximum she achieved a 
 standing for the first term of 37. 
 
 That fall Nettie was shocked to learn that her Uncle Merick's 
 extensive business had failed. The rapid growth of the railways had 
 been a blow to shipbuilding in the East. Clayton was proving to be 
 rather too far out of the main currents of trade anyway. New 
 enterprises into which Mr. Merick had entered farther west had 
 suffered severe reverses: a mill had burned, a small railroad venture 
 had collapsed, his flour consignees in New York had failed. In an- 
 nouncing his failure Ermina Merick wrote: "The stroke they say 
 will be felt from one end of the Lakes to the other." She went on 
 to tell of the economies the family was practicing. "In reference 
 to getting you a new hat, I don't know what Mother will decide 
 to do." 
 
 Nettie wrote home a letter filled with sympathy for her uncle; 
 she offered to end her school days with the first term and added 
 that she needed no new dresses and "of course" would wear her 
 blue hat again. Her journal further reflected her warmth of heart 
 and her developing powers. After the first wave of sympathy she 
 writes, "The next instant I felt so strong — so resolute I thought 
 nothing too great for me to undertake — I never felt so much like 
 a woman in all my life." 
 
 Her offer to quit school was not accepted though her brother 
 was allowed to help with her tuition. It was perhaps a point, so far 
 as Nettie's budget was concerned, that the annual charges were 
 only a little over $200 at Lima as against $350 at Troy. 
 
 To spare expense when the term closed "poor Nette" remained 
 at the Seminary. But she had a pleasant time, visiting with the few 
 others who stayed and the faculty, in walks and leisurely study, 
 and — though she did not approve of more than a "very little fiction 
 occasionally" — in devouring Ivanhoe! 
 
 After the family situation was somewhat adjusted, Melzar Me- 
 rick came to Genesee Wesleyan too for the second and third terms. 
 Cousin Delia Fowler came with him and shared Nettie's room. 
 
 The life the girls lived in the Seminary hall was simple and 
 
38 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 strict. They were required to "furnish their own lights, pails, 
 wash-bowls, towels and mirrors." The pails must be filled at night 
 as a precaution against fire. For a fresh drink they went down 
 from that fourth floor to a well. The lights were, luxuriously, oil 
 lamps supplemented by candles. 
 
 There were careful rules to be observed at mealtime: quiet as- 
 sembly, silence until "the religious services of the table" were per- 
 formed and — a thing Nettie Fowler didn't like — no one was to 
 retire until the table was duly dismissed. Two long tables extended 
 the length of the dining room, young ladies sitting on one side and 
 young gentlemen opposite with faculty interspersed. Food and 
 dishes were brought from the kitchen by the "wash women" in a 
 little car which ran on a track between the tables. 
 
 In the spring term Nettie and Delia lived in a boarding place 
 away from the Seminary and Melzar Merick could come in to see 
 his cousins often, "a privilege which was denied us at the Sem.," 
 commented Nettie, adding "although our board is not any better 
 here than there. We do not find any fault — for I suppose the kind 
 of food we eat makes but little difference provided it be whole- 
 some. We are confined to 'Ham' principally." (In later years she 
 would hardly have considered that "Ham principally" met the re- 
 quirements of wholesomeness.) 
 
 On the religious side, in addition to chapel and church, there 
 was a missionary society in which Miss Fowler was prominent. It 
 was a joint society of young people from Seminary and College, 
 evidently designed to combine those two great activities of all 
 missionary societies — study and money raising. Miss Fowler was a 
 member of the "Board of Managers," one of the two "essayists" of 
 her year and at different times librarian, collector, and secretary. 
 Nettie Fowler must have been among Genesee Wesleyan's bright- 
 est missionary lights: she was one of three students for whom the 
 school group appropriated money to make them life members of 
 the "parent society." 
 
 Many friendships marked this year at Lima as had been true at 
 Falley and at Troy. A friendship formed with Helen Hard was to 
 last throughout the two women's lives. Nettie's first impressions 
 were favorable but cautious: "Miss Hard, a new acquaintance & 
 myself hired a horse & carriage & drove around the country. We 
 
AWAY AT SCHOOL 39 
 
 had a fine ride beside being quite independent. I took tea with her 
 — my impression is that she is a lovely girl — but I have only a short 
 acquaintance as yet & first appearances are sometimes deceiving. 
 We are in three classes together." But a year and a half later Nettie's 
 journal was recording her rapturous hopes of a visit from this 
 friend whom she loved — "oh, so much." Always her words of ap- 
 preciation for special friends were warm, springing from a great 
 capacity for love together with an aptitude for enthusiastic ex- 
 pression. 
 
 There were men friends too — appearing in a "memorable" scien- 
 tific exploring tour in that spring term, a certain jaunt by moon- 
 light, an episode connected with crossing a plank, and some special 
 farewells. Though Nettie did not trust her journal with names, her 
 letters sometimes illuminate. Even over the years her confidences 
 shall be kept — though for the matter of that they were all pretty 
 much in terms of ecstatic memories of glamorous moments and 
 nobody really expecting much to happen for years, if ever. 
 
 But during that year at Lima a proposal came to her — the flower- 
 ing of her summer visit to the wooded region of St. Clair. This was 
 not, to be sure, her first proposal, but one of a type always flatter- 
 ing to a very young lady — the avowal of a somewhat older man 
 already at work in the world. The incident holds special interest 
 because it brought out her attitude at twenty toward marriage. 
 After postponing reply to the question from the timber lands until 
 she should be free of school, she finally asked her brother's advice, 
 submitting for his approval a copy of her proposed reply. "I have 
 always put those things far in the future," she wrote, "and I am not 
 now in any hurry. Still I think a young lady may wait too long and 
 ... let the right one pass by. I am yet, however, to be convinced 
 that the right one has arrived." 
 
 Before her brother made satisfactory reply she wrote that she 
 had her "mind about made up on the point. ... I want no one 
 whose avowed object is — 'improving their own condition.' " Her 
 brother's comment was downright: "A person who has loved so 
 many young ladies must have a very large hart. . . . However if 
 you think anything of him lets know it, and done with it I shall 
 then know better how to talk." A few more weeks of delay and 
 then her "letter of non-acceptance" (in the rejected one's phrase) 
 
40 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 went out. It was received with disappointment but with a convic- 
 tion that her conclusions had emanated "from a kind and true 
 heart." 
 
 Genesee Wesleyan Seminary carried on about eight years past 
 its centennial, was devoted to other uses for a time, closed, reopened 
 as Genesee Junior College, and in 1951 closed again. Long ago the 
 men's college answered a call to Syracuse and became Syracuse 
 University and the girls inherited its old College Hall with classic 
 pillars which, gleaming high on its hill, for many years caught the 
 eye of approaching pupils. Here Miss Fowler attended chapel and 
 classes. In the Seminary building her room can not be precisely 
 identified, but one may look from the fourth floor hall window 
 upon the same lovely view that enraptured her. In this hall, too, 
 was the room of the "Ladies' Literary" to which she belonged, 
 though thirteen years later no less a person than Frances E. Wil- 
 lard, preceptress at the Seminary, changed its name to the "In- 
 gelow." 
 
 Apparently Nettie Fowler's course of study did not lead to a 
 diploma. Though she had taken advanced studies, she was not one 
 of the group that in June, 1855 stood in modestly long white muslin 
 gowns on the chapel platform and one by one read their essays and 
 accepted their sheepskins. She doesn't explain. Perhaps she deliber- 
 ately chose subjects she wished to take, regardless of diploma, or 
 perhaps she had expected to be in school longer. But here her 
 formal education ended. 
 
 Long afterward, looking back to Genesee Wesleyan, the former 
 Miss Fowler called it "a fine school." 
 
OlaaptEer 4 
 COURTSHIP 
 
 I 
 
 N HER twenty-second year the pattern of Nettie Fowler's life 
 suddenly changed. She went to Chicago, to that wooing and mar- 
 riage which made a fairy-tale transformation in the destiny of the 
 young girl from a St. Lawrence River village. 
 
 She spent the year after her return from Lima at home — in the 
 usual activities of her Clayton circle with occasional visits to 
 friends and relatives in near-by villages. She revisited Falley Sem- 
 inary. She spent time sewing in the company of her beloved grand- 
 mother. She wrote with fair faithfulness during this period in her 
 journal, devoting considerable attention to self-examination. And 
 she reveled in the beauty of the St. Lawrence River scene, espe- 
 cially in spring. 
 
 Once she confided to her journal a pleasant conceit: "I would I 
 could seal up a chamber of my soul so full of gladness, for the 
 *dark days' — when every gushing fountain seems dried up. I could 
 open it and feast upon the luxury so much out of its season. We 
 gather fruits in their season and 'hermetically' seal them for Winter 
 — when opened they come out fresh as when plucked. Why could 
 we not operate in a similar manner with emotions of joy and 
 mirth?" 
 
 The most notable social event of the twelve months was a trip 
 to Montreal in November 1855 — a cold and dreary trip at that 
 season unwillingly undertaken by Nettie and Ermina on an errand 
 for Mrs. Merick. They stayed with friends of the Mericks and were 
 guests at a concert by Ole Bull. The next day the famous violinist 
 was invited to their host's for dinner. Nettie was deeply thrilled 
 and admiring. Ole Bull talked to her of music, cautioning her 
 against "music falsely so called" and praising the music of the old 
 masters. Before he left, he wrote for her "a little harmony," sign- 
 
 41 
 
42 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 ing it. She carefully preserved the souvenir of this memorable meet- 
 ing. 
 
 "A trip to Montreal costs only the time/' Nettie wrote, meaning 
 a trip on the family's steamers. There was reason for considering 
 such matters. For Mr. Merick's business affairs had not recovered. 
 By the summer of 1856 he was on the point of changing his base to 
 Detroit. He was much from home and during that spring and sum- 
 mer his wife and daughter Ermina spent time with relatives in De- 
 troit and Chicago. Eager to do something to help in the family de- 
 pression, Nettie had again become a teacher in the "yellow school- 
 house," attending to household duties as well, and in the summer 
 her health broke. Coming home on a visit, the eldest Merick daugh- 
 ter, Maria — Mrs. Isaac Lyon, now of Chicago — found Nettie sick 
 from "hooping cough and overwork," took her to Rochester where 
 she bought dresses for her, then to a water cure at Elmira, New 
 York. Here Mrs. Lyon, Nettie Fowler, and Ermina Merick all 
 entered as patients. Thanks to Nettie's journal we have a picture of 
 the life they led there, a life typical of the popular water cure of 
 the time. 
 
 "Today we have been initiated. Rise at five — a cold pour — walk 
 up a high hill — breakfast Graham pudding potatoes, milk, brown 
 bread & butter. At nine we go through all the gymnastic exercises 
 in the Bowling Alley — at 10 oclock — a half bath. After which we 
 may sleep — or roll in the alley or do anything we please till dinner, 
 at 12. This repast is very plain — one kind of meat & two vege- 
 tables, bread & for dessert some kind of farinaceous pudding. Amuse 
 ourselves until l / 2 past 3. Exercise then baths again — sleep till supper 
 if we choose. Today the weather induces sleep if nothing else 
 would. Tea is very plain — cracked wheat milk, brown bread, one 
 kind of plain cake After tea the patients assemble in the parlor & 
 devote themselves to sociability. Music & the Doctor encourages 
 Dancing &c — baths at S l / 2 — retire at 9. Thus the day ends." 
 
 Under this treatment, Nettie was the first to recover. Leaving 
 in early August, after visiting a Lima school friend, she returned 
 to Clayton to pack and presently accompanied Mrs. Lyon to the 
 West. The plan was that Nettie should superintend the care of her 
 cousin's two children while Mrs. Lyon continued her pursuit of 
 health. But in it, too, was the thought of relieving Mr. Merick of 
 responsibility for Nettie. 
 
COURTSHIP 43 
 
 The journey probably began as usual in a family-built steamboat, 
 swinging out from the dock off Clayton's main street, threading 
 the islands upstream, calling at Cape Vincent just before the river 
 widened into the lake. Thence the well known trip, no doubt much 
 as Nettie described it four years before when she went to San- 
 dusky, ending in a train ride from Toledo or Detroit to Chicago. 
 
 How she must have savored it all with her eagerness for ex- 
 perience and knowledge! One wishes she had left some word of 
 her impressions of the young prairie city. Thus far in her life she 
 had known perhaps a dozen or so New York and Canadian towns 
 and villages: Montreal and perhaps Quebec; Troy and Rochester, 
 in New York; Sandusky and Newark, in Ohio; just possibly New 
 York City. Chicago of 1856 must have presented many sharp dif- 
 ferences from these other towns and cities. 
 
 By that time it had a population of about 90,000 and was grow- 
 ing with the astounding swiftness that had marked its development 
 since the early thirties. Nettie must have seen marble palaces as well 
 as brick buildings and many wooden structures. She would have 
 been aware, in parts of the city, of wooden sidewalks that for ten 
 years were to send the pedestrian clambering up and down as the 
 street levels were adjusted. There were flatness and prairie and 
 mud in place of Nettie's native hills, noisy vital energy in place of 
 village quiet. The opening of the Illinois and Michigan Canal, only 
 eight years before, that put Chicago on the waterway from New 
 Orleans to Buffalo had given its waterfront — of lake and river — a 
 colorful variety of vessels, of traffic, of sailors that must have had 
 special interest for a girl reared on another shore line. 
 
 Whether she liked or disliked Chicago Nettie probably found 
 life pleasant in her cousin's North Side home near the river on Pine 
 Street — as the present North Michigan Avenue was then named. 
 Maria had lived there long enough to have friends and other Clay- 
 ton cousins had made acquaintances in Maria's circle. Besides, the 
 Lyons attended the neighboring North Presbyterian Church and 
 before long Nettie Fowler lent her sweet contralto voice to its 
 choir. Just when she joined this church, changing from Methodist 
 to Presbyterian, is not known. The Chicago Fire consumed that 
 information in the North Church membership roll. But the Metho- 
 dist Church record at Clayton shows opposite her name, in "Re- 
 vised List, May 1857," this entry: "Removed without letter." And 
 
44 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 there is evidence that as a young married woman she belonged to 
 the North Presbyterian Church in Chicago. Was it a cousin or a 
 suitor or a husband who influenced her to make the change? 
 
 Living so near the river as it flowed toward the Lake (this was 
 long before Chicago highhandedly reversed the current), she must 
 often have seen the McCormick reaper factory — impressive build- 
 ings of brick lying along the river only a short walk from her door. 
 It would have been strange if she had not heard the story of inven- 
 tion back of that flourishing factory and of the man who was re- 
 sponsible for it. Perhaps she wondered about him — all the more 
 because he was, amazingly, still a bachelor in his late forties. What 
 she might have read about him at that time, if there had been a 
 Who's Who in 1856, would have been about this: 
 
 McCORMICK, Cyrus Hall, inventor and mfr., b. Rockbridge 
 Co., Va., Feb. 15, 1809; s. Robert and Mary Ann (Hall) McC; 
 educated at home and in "field school"; invented reaper, 1831; 
 successful in public trials 183 1 and 1832; patented reaper, 1834; 
 received council medal at World's Fair, London, 1851. Invented 
 also hillside plow, self-sharpening horizontal plow and improved 
 grain cradle. Established reaper manufactory in Chicago, in 1847; 
 pres't. His reaper won the highest awards of the international 
 expositions in London in 1851 and at Paris in 1855. Unmarried. 
 Presbyterian (O.S.). Home: Chicago. Office: C. H. McCormick 
 Reaper Works, Chicago. 
 
 If she had heard those items, she would have heard more — some- 
 thing of the man himself — over six feet tall, dark, strong, vigorous, 
 handsome, a driving force in business, a power in conservative 
 church circles. But she would not have seen Mr. McCormick. For 
 he spent little time in Chicago. His two brothers, William and 
 Leander, ran the business under their elder brother's direction by 
 letter, while he attended to patents, lawsuits, and numerous other 
 interests in Washington and New York, with occasional short 
 visits home. 
 
 But early in the summer of 1857 Mr. McCormick came to Chi- 
 cago, for the first time in nearly two years, and remained for a 
 number of weeks. And it is not too much to assume that the unusual 
 
COURTSHIP 45 
 
 length of his stay was a direct result of meeting the girl from Clay- 
 ton. 
 
 This meeting, one gathers, all but failed to occur. Nettie Fowler 
 had been in Chicago from August 1856 till June 1857 — fall, winter, 
 spring — before fate signaled. No doubt her days were agreeably 
 filled with household duties, social life, the choir, and musical 
 events: she attended Henry Ahner's afternoon concerts, heard the 
 pianist Thalberg and probably others. And her enjoyment as she 
 wrote of it to Helen Hard was rapturous. Besides there were suitors 
 to claim the attention of the lovely girl from the East. But all this 
 was to end — she was to return to Clayton in June, whether to re- 
 main or with plans for return does not appear. The day for de- 
 parture was set. 
 
 But the day had to be changed because the intended escort, at 
 the last moment, failed. And so she stayed to attend a certain party. 
 And so Cyrus Hall McCormick came to the party and met her. 
 
 Thus run the brief recollections of that cousin with whom she 
 lived. 
 
 As for the party itself, the story depends on the recollection by 
 the oldest son, Cyrus H. McCormick, of various accounts given 
 him. One day, according to the story, as the brothers Cyrus and 
 Leander were riding on horseback across the new Rush Street 
 bridge, Cyrus noticed a beautiful young woman passing them: a 
 tall, dark-haired, fair, rosy girl, moving with singular swift, free 
 grace. Attracted he asked his brother Leander about her. Leander 
 said she was a stranger (for in that time strangers in the neighbor- 
 hood were discernible), but that his wife Henrietta would know. 
 Henrietta did know. The girl from the East had been living for 
 some time in the Lyon household; she was Mrs. Lyon's cousin, 
 Nettie Fowler; and a meeting could be arranged if "C.H." de- 
 sired it. "C.H." did so desire. The Lyons and Nettie Fowler were 
 asked to a tea at the Leander McCormicks' in a parlor that (if 
 Mrs. Leander McCormick still had the furnishings that she proudly 
 described ten years before) was vivid with a flowered red and 
 green carpet and cushioned mahogany chairs. Here, it appears, Mr. 
 McCormick made full use of his opportunities. Impetuous, forceful, 
 not to say dominating, he took possession of Miss Fowler, seated 
 her with him on a sofa and completely ignored the claims of other 
 
46 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 guests. But after all the party was probably arranged for his benefit. 
 
 There are other stories about the first meeting: that Cyrus Mc- 
 Cormick saw Nettie Fowler in a doorway and announced in- 
 stantly that there was the girl he would marry; that he passed the 
 Lyons' house when Nettie was outside about some task and 
 stopped to speak to her; that he was attracted first by hearing her 
 sing in the North Church choir. 
 
 But the only contemporaneous reference to the first meeting is 
 in a letter of Mr. McCormick to Nettie Fowler — his first. He told 
 her that he had heard much favorable report of her on his return 
 to Chicago, and he went on: "On my first acquaintance with you 
 I was satisfied that your merits had not been overestimated. . . . 
 The more I have seen & known of you since, the more deeply I 
 have been impressed by your merits & charms, until I became a 
 captive at your feet." 
 
 This letter is one of a little package of Mr. McCormick's letters 
 that his wife treasured throughout life — "a package I always re- 
 garded," she wrote two months after his death, "as the most pre- 
 cious material thing I possessed. . . . They are the honest, manly 
 and ardent expression of his devoted love for me. They glow with 
 fervent fires of a manly love. They are love-letters." 
 
 Her own letters are not present, nor does she ever refer to them; 
 but Mr. McCormick quotes from them liberally. 
 
 In his first letter, July 23, 1857 it is clear that he has already pro- 
 posed. Before the date of the second, September 5, the momentous 
 question facing Nettie Fowler had been carried home for the ad- 
 vice of her beloved grandmother, her uncle, and others. On Aug- 
 ust first Nettie, no doubt well chaperoned and accompanied by her 
 little cousin, Jeannie Lyon, arrived at Clayton. Not long after, 
 Isaac Lyon came on, bringing his young son. And in the last of the 
 four weeks Nettie spent at home, visiting, riding, boating, Mr. Mc- 
 Cormick arrived. No account of the visit remains — one can only 
 guess at the cordial reception given the Chicago man in the pleasant 
 Clayton home. Mr. Merick unfortunately was absent on business 
 during this important visit. A plan was made for him to meet the 
 Chicago-bound group at Cape Vincent on the return trip. But 
 owing to trouble with the railroad engine he arrived at the Cape 
 just fivt minutes after the lake boat had sailed with Nettie, Mr. 
 Lyon, and the two children. Mr. McCormick, however, waited 
 
COURTSHIP 47 
 
 after "having the pain" to part with Nettie on the boat and spent 
 the evening with Mr. Merick, who was of course acting as father. 
 
 Mr. Merick's report in a letter to Nettie was on the whole favor- 
 able. He admitted that, as she had anticipated, his first impression 
 was not without reservations, but he had found himself well in- 
 clined by Mr. McCormick's personal appearance, his fund of in- 
 formation, his strong common sense. He gathered the impression 
 that Mr. McCormick would strive to make his wife happy. Seeking 
 to give a candid opinion, he referred to Mr. McCormick's comment 
 on himself as "not a ladies' man," cited as other objections his age 
 and the possibility that socially he might not be up to her "ideas of 
 what Nettie's husband should be," urged her to be certain in her 
 own heart that she would love him even if his "yellow dust" should 
 fail. Definitely he left the choice with her, delicately urging her 
 to come to a decision. 
 
 Mr. McCormick himself, writing to Nettie after he had gone 
 back to New York, reported that Mr. Merick "seemed favorably 
 inclined toward the consummation of the affair between us in 
 marriage," and went on to "ask", "beg", "pray" her to marry him 
 in October. But despite his eagerness he assured her "I feel dearest 
 Nettie, that you will understand and appreciate my position in this 
 matter, which is, in short, that, loving you most dearly as I do, and 
 have done since my first acquaintance with you, — regarding you 
 then, and since, as possessing peculiar and rare charms and personal 
 attraction: if it were possible to love you an hundredfold more than 
 I do I could in no case desire your hand without your heart." 
 
 By the end of August Nettie was again with her cousin in Chi- 
 cago, and Mr. McCormick was there in October. "The many 
 pleasant rides which were planned," wrote Maria Lyon, "gave them 
 opportunities for better acquaintance." And whenever parted a 
 correspondence went on between them. 
 
 He continued to press his suit ardently, not hesitating to relate 
 his sufferings from suspense and uncertainty. He wrote: "Oh, 
 sweet Nettie, how could you say to me, as you did, 'be not disap- 
 pointed'! As well might it be said to one safely conducted through 
 the severest storm, on Erie, by a guardian angel, 'be not disappointed 
 if on reaching the head of the cataract I should leave you to your 
 fate!'" He pointed out the inconsistency between her admission 
 that perhaps she loved him as much as she could without "years of 
 
48 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 companionship" and her plea for "the test of time", and Jubilated 
 to his brother that her letter was a "virtual acceptance!" Finally 
 she admitted that she hesitated, in spite of her interest, because of 
 a certain trait of his character which she feared would cause both 
 great unhappiness — a want of proper appreciation of the opinions 
 of others, a "self-confidence that brooks no denial — a resolute de- 
 termination to overcome every obstacle — a hardness and blindness 
 of purpose that will not quit." 
 
 All of which Mr. McCormick met with complete self-confi- 
 dence. Without fully admitting the charge he did grant that he 
 might exhibit a strong will in his dealings with "gentlemen" in 
 business; but as to her he asserted: "I do not think there is a man in 
 the world who would strive more to please you than I should do — 
 no one whose disposition and manner would be more under your 
 control and influence than would mine as your husband." 
 
 The protestation if not the argument of this letter of November 
 26, 1857 evidently won the day. For on December 7 Mr. Lyon sent 
 a dispatch: "Expect favorable answer this week I wrote today." 
 The happy lover wrote at once that the dispatch had produced "a 
 calm and heavenly sensation . . . whilst contemplating with tears 
 of pleasure and gratitude the priceless prize I felt I had won, I yet 
 felt that the blessing was from God." He subscribed himself "Yours 
 most devotedly till death." The religious note was in harmony 
 with earlier expressions in his letters. "Our religious sympathies 
 seem perfectly mutual," he wrote. And Nettie, writing her friend 
 Helen Hard about her engagement, said, "If any one thing has 
 ever occupied my mind and engaged my petitions at the throne of 
 grace, it is the thing which is now to be counted among the events 
 which will probably occur." 
 
 Whether the wedding should be in Clayton or in Chicago was a 
 difficult question to decide. The Clayton people were eager to have 
 it there; but the failure of Grandmother Fowler's health and of Mr. 
 Merick's business counted. Nettie apparently felt the weight of 
 these considerations and gently suggested that a visit after the wed- 
 ding might be the best course. In the tender warmth of her feeling 
 for the dear grandmother she even offered to give up "every plan 
 I have" if she were needed. But eagerness to go on with her plan 
 runs strongly beneath the offer. Maria Fowler herself, though 
 
COURTSHIP 49 
 
 grieved, was reconciled and advised that Mr. McCormick's con- 
 venience be consulted. 
 
 There was a question, too, about the date; but this was on Mr. 
 McCormick's side. The Manny case — a suit brought by Mr. 
 McCormick against a rival reaper maker for infringement of pat- 
 ents — which had long been pending, threatened to interfere. But 
 after several dizzying adjustments of the wedding date the suit 
 was postponed and January 26 was finally set. 
 
 Unfortunately we can see the wedding preparations only 
 through the eyes of the bridegroom-elect rather than those of the 
 bride-to-be. Nettie stayed on at the Lyons' and there made herself 
 ready. Mr. Merick, distressed because he could not do for her as he 
 would, asked her to have Mr. Lyon take care of her needs and let 
 him settle later, sending only a trifle — all he could spare. And her 
 brother diverted from the business he and Melzar Merick were in 
 money to help with Nettie's wedding. 
 
 Meantime Mr. McCormick entered heartily into McCormick 
 family preparations to welcome the bride and, in particular, for the 
 reception to be given in William McCormick's house at the bride- 
 groom's expense. In the same letter that bore back to Chicago Mr. 
 Lyon's good news, Mr. McCormick wrote, "And I suppose you & 
 L.J. will between you now at least get a good carriage." He was 
 pleased at reports of the Lyons' plans, "It would seem from what 
 you have said that they mean to have a considerable company, and 
 I expect they will — I suggested when there that we should come 
 out before the people of Chicago &c." Later, when the reception 
 was under discussion, he worried about the small size of William's 
 house — though as a matter of fact it was a new house, on Rush 
 Street, and according to the reporter took care of ^.Yt hundred 
 guests during the evening. "If done," he wrote, "it will take at least 
 $500 to provide the repast. ... It must be a splendid affair, if at 
 all! ... A very large invitation should be given, if beyond a 
 limited circle of friends — and which probably should be so, to be 
 sociable, and make acquaintances." 
 
 By mid-January the bridegroom-to-be was giving meticulous 
 directions about the provision of white silk vests for "the gentle- 
 men," and about the care of his own clothes. His instructions on 
 this latter point illustrate his characteristic regard for appearance; 
 
50 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 he might be absorbed in business, but not to the extent of being 
 unaware of fashions for men. "My clothes . . . should be pressed, 
 so as to be clear of all wrinkles, and shirts washed, or done up 
 anew, well stiffened (more than any of yours — they are not now 
 quite enough) but not glazed in the ironing." According to a tenta- 
 tive plan his clothes were to be sent in a trunk to the Tremont 
 House, where presumably he would spend the brief interval be- 
 tween his arrival and the wedding day. By this time, all being in 
 train, his mind was free from anxiety and he could write in lighter 
 mood, "I presume I must expect to come in for my share of petti- 
 coat government, now." 
 
 Of "Miss F.'s" corresponding plans we learn from Mr. McCor- 
 mick that "Mr. L. writes that much talk and calculation upon the 
 wedding — and great suitableness expressed &c." It is a tradition 
 that Nettie Fowler made a point of having a wedding gown strictly 
 in accordance with her means, declining her betrothed's offer to 
 provide a richer one. But though Mr. McCormick's wedding coat 
 was carefully kept, labeled in his wife's hand "Father's wedding 
 coat," there is no trace of her wedding gown — perhaps because a 
 simple dress had no future in a prosperous woman's wardrobe and 
 so, packed away, was lost in the Chicago Fire. She did accept the 
 groom's eager offering — as Christmas and wedding gift — of dia- 
 monds — necklace, brooch, bracelet, ring. As for the rest of her 
 trousseau, her cousin Ermina Merick wrote, "Nette is very con- 
 siderate in her purchases for her bridal outfit, does not desire much 
 at present and will only have a few dresses." 
 
 The wedding took place at the Lyons' home with the Reverend 
 Dr. Nathan L. Rice, pastor of the North Presbyterian Church and 
 a close friend of Mr. McCormick, performing the ceremony. To 
 the diary of Ermina Merick we are indebted for the only manu- 
 script account discovered (her cousin Nettie having disappointingly 
 left blank pages between August 6, 1857 and June 22, 1858): 
 
 "26 Tuesday — Nettie was married this morning at 12V2 oclock 
 I was bridesmaid, Eldridge Groomsman. 
 
 "Maria had everything prepared in the best possible manner. 
 Refreshments &c just suitable for such an occasion. Mr. McC. 
 looked his best, and the bride also, although the services tended to 
 move Nettie to tears which gave her a pensive look. 
 
 "Received calls from 1 to 3 p.m — 
 
COURTSHIP 5 1 
 
 Evening. Mrs. W. S. McCormick gave a very large and elegant 
 party. Table very beautiful. I might give the full description but 
 will not as I intend to keep the comments of the editor." 
 
 Alas, the only "comments of the editor" available fail to answer 
 the questions that a modern society reporter would include as 
 simple routine. A paragraph in the Chicago Weekly Press of Jan- 
 uary 30, 1858 reads: 
 
 MARRIED 
 
 On Tuesday, Jan. 26th, at the residence of I. L. Lyon, Esq., 
 No. 17 Pine Street, by Rev. Dr. Rice, Cyrus H. McCormick, to 
 Miss Nettie Fowler, all of this city. 
 
 About the evening reception there is more, but not enough. The 
 same paper, on January 27, recorded: 
 
 One of the most pleasant and hospitable residences in the 
 North Division was thrown open last evening, and despite 
 the unfavorable weather . . . the guests gathered and filled the 
 apartments to overflowing. They came and seemed scarcely to 
 add to the number, they went and were little missed, as carriage 
 after carriage deposited its freight of fair women and brave 
 men to take their places. Within, all was gaiety and the sound of 
 music, and the murmur of conversation, and the merry 
 laugh. . . . 
 
 There was, according to the memory of the small boy of the house 
 — William G. McCormick — a charming feature known as the 
 promenade, wherein all the company, in couples, marched to and 
 fro and round and round. 
 
 The party was the largest, and one of the most brilliant of the 
 season, and will be marked and memorable in festive annals. . . . 
 
 Our lady readers will be on tip-toe to learn of the bride, and 
 how she was dressed, and who was there and how they were 
 dressed, and who was the belle of the evening, — who besides 
 the beautiful bride was the observed of observers. We suppose 
 all who were there have informed those in the immediate vicinity, 
 who were in this respect less favored, that the bride wore a white 
 
52 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 silk dress with an overdress of tulle, that those who heard of the 
 rich trousseau looked to see diamonds and saw nothing of orna- 
 ment to add to, without increasing, the simplest and therefore the 
 highest of adornment of beauty, a simple wreath and bouquet of 
 white flowers. 
 
 Of the wedding gifts, and diamonds we have small need to 
 speak. To wings fleeter than ever vouchsafed to local items — 
 (will the ladies, dear angels, forgive us if we say it) — have been 
 given the report of the generous richness of the trousseau, and 
 we have no mind to spoil by anticipating, the telling of the 
 same, for any of our fair readers. . . . 
 
 Though the report of a "rich" trousseau does not agree with tra- 
 dition and probability, perhaps the reporter was merely prophetic, 
 referring to the fine clothes that the proud bridegroom was soon to 
 shower on his young bride. 
 
PART II 
 
 HELPMEET 
 
CJiapter 5 
 
 HONEYMOON 
 AND HOUSEKEEPING 
 
 rip 
 .Li 
 
 HE honeymoon was only about twelve days long. But it 
 included attendance at a second wedding and a trip in double bridal 
 party to Nettie's home in Clayton — the visit that Nettie had prom- 
 ised her failing grandmother. Her cousin Ermina's diary gives the 
 outline: The party, including at least Miss Merick and perhaps 
 Eldridge Fowler, traveled by rail via Detroit and Buffalo to the 
 little town of Jordan, New York. Here they spent "Nettie's first 
 Sabbath since her marriage," attending church in the morning, 
 reading and singing in the afternoon, driving — whether by car- 
 riage or stage — three miles to Elbridge that evening. Here on the 
 following day, again at the polite hour of "12 }4," Eldridge Fowler 
 and Mary Louise Skinner were married. 
 
 This was the first meeting of Nettie and Mary Louise, though 
 at the instance of Eldridge the two girls had corresponded a little. 
 Mary Skinner had written to Nettie one of those careful letters 
 that to many a modern girl would seem like a passage composed 
 in a dead language. ". . . It is a bond of union among strangers 
 even, to know they have learned the same lessons, have communed 
 with the same spirits, are familiar with the same authors' minds, 
 have the same great end in view. . . . The fife of the faithful 
 teacher ... is one which is crowned with bays to which but few 
 of earth's honors are kindred. ... I felt that our acquaintance 
 continued when I knew that we had been sister teachers. But still 
 more than this, I have heard of you as a Christian. With what earn- 
 est yearnings does the heart move out to find its sister spirits made 
 pure in the same fountain." 
 
 At the time of his marriage Eldridge was selling ships' stores 
 in Detroit in partnership with his cousin Melzar Merick — not a 
 
 55 
 
$6 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 very prosperous business, though later he was to acquire great 
 wealth. 
 
 From Elbridge the double honeymoon party, now eight in all, 
 proceeded by pleasant stages to Clayton. "Conveyances were 
 ready at Chaumont to take us home/' Ermina Merick wrote in her 
 diary. "Found plenty of snow. The brides enjoyed a sleigh ride — 
 The merry bells added much to render the occasion a happy one." 
 There was "such a dinner as would suit an epicure" at Clayton, 
 and on the next day a goodly assemblage of relatives where no 
 doubt the impressive elder bridegroom was not only welcomed 
 but well studied. He reported to his brother William that he "had 
 a pleasant slayride at Clayton, New York, and a very pleasant time 
 during the rounds to this city etc." 
 
 "This city" was Washington to which the McCormicks and 
 Ermina Merick had come after a fascinating weekend in New York. 
 Miss Merick was along because she had accepted Mr. McCormick's 
 invitation to stay for some weeks with his bride. She was "a very 
 sweet dispositioned lady," Mr. McCormick wrote, and he was 
 generous enough to put up with the presence of a third person in 
 order to give Nettie company during his busy hours. The three 
 arrived at six in the morning of February 9, the day after the bride's 
 twenty-third birthday, at the end of a twelve-hour trip in which 
 they had "changed cars about half a dozen times." "Mr. McCor- 
 mick went out to business," Ermina continued. "Nettie & I took a 
 quiet sleep — breakfasted in our room." Then, refreshed, the two 
 young women set out, with what thrilled excitement can be im- 
 agined, to open their Washington oyster. They began with the 
 Capitol and reached a high point that very first night when with 
 Mr. McCormick they attended President Buchanan's levee in the 
 White House, forming part of the colorful line presented to the 
 bachelor President and his niece, the beautiful Harriet Lane, "lady 
 of the White House" during her uncle's administration. 
 
 Miss Lane, Ermina wrote, was "plainly attired in a half mourn- 
 ing silk with a simple necklace of pearls." Her brother had died 
 and the tone of administration entertainments had been softened to 
 a lower key. This "half mourning silk" of course spread over hoops. 
 But what did the bride wear? Ermina Merick, alas, does not say. 
 Mr. McCormick, eager to adorn his lovely young wife, may have 
 availed himself of a Saturday afternoon in New York to enrich 
 
HONEYMOON AND HOUSEKEEPING 57 
 
 her simple wardrobe; and there were his wedding gifts of diamond 
 necklace, brooches, and ring for adornment. 
 
 The post-honeymoon life began at Brown's Hotel (later known 
 as the Metropolitan), where the McCormicks awaited the outcome 
 of the Manny case and also of a suit for the extension of Mr. Mc- 
 Cormick's 1845 patent. On the very next day after arrival Nettie 
 and Ermina were in the Supreme Court Chamber attending the 
 first hearing on the Manny case — the opening arguments by one of 
 Mr. McCormick's attorneys, Edward N. Dickerson of New York. 
 The suit, brought by Mr. McCormick, was for alleged infringe- 
 ments of details of his patents of 1845 and 1847 by the John H. 
 Manny machines. It had already run a long course and now at the 
 climax — appeal to the United States Supreme Court — Mr. Manny 
 was dead and the suit was against his associates and heirs. 
 
 It was a famous case with control of the entire industry prac- 
 tically at stake. The Manny side had a formidable battery of law- 
 yers — George Harding of Philadelphia, Peter H. Watson of Wash- 
 ington, Edwin M. Stanton, destined to be Secretary of War. An- 
 other name is of interest. When the United States District Court 
 was to hear the case at Springfield, Abraham Lincoln was chosen 
 by Manny's counsel as an addition to their battery of legal talent. 
 He was retained even when the case was moved to Cincinnati, but 
 his colleagues maneuvered him into the background and did not 
 permit him, though he was well prepared, to speak. Mr. McCor- 
 mick's chief attorneys were Edward N. Dickerson of New York 
 and Reverdy Johnson of Maryland. 
 
 With all this, and more, the young Mrs. McCormick was famil- 
 iar. Now she was present at the final scene in the Supreme Court 
 Chamber. This was a room in the basement of the Capitol, directly 
 under the Senate Chamber which in less than three years the 
 Supreme Court was to take over. Here, presumably in the seats 
 reserved for spectators, the two young women sat, well able to 
 see and hear all and no doubt very visible. Though no one tells 
 us what they wore, it seems probable that the bride was radiant in 
 honeymoon finery. Hoops and bonnets were of course in the pic- 
 ture. 
 
 The two sat faithfully through the arguments on Manny's side 
 on the two days following the opening for Mr. McCormick and 
 on February 1 7 through the closing argument by Dickerson. They 
 
58 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 were present when some weeks later the Supreme Court's opinion 
 was handed down — an opinion adverse to Mr. McCormick. 
 
 How early Mr. McCormick made the pleasing discovery that 
 his charming young wife was actually capable of entering into his 
 business counsels, one can only surmise. Certainly he couldn't have 
 expected to find an associate in the reaper business when he mar- 
 ried a girl twenty-six years his junior, whose business experience 
 was limited to a little care of her small inherited property and 
 whose business background was not even agriculture but ships. 
 And this in a day and age when women were not supposed to 
 understand business anyhow. But there are at least slight indica- 
 tions in this Washington period of what was to come. "Mr. 
 McCormick," wrote the diarist, "has been discussing the Reaper 
 question. Nettie & self have spent the time in sewing." A sugges- 
 tion there of the long years in which Mr. McCormick was to dis- 
 cuss all of his questions with his wife and seek her opinion. Letters 
 written to Mrs. McCormick by her husband in the early years of 
 their marriage mingle tender, loving concern for her health and 
 happiness with information about business — lawsuits and reaper 
 improvements with the obvious confidence that she will under- 
 stand all. 
 
 Meantime the two young cousins, sometimes under his escort, 
 oftener not, were most industrious sightseers with time out for 
 Nettie's music lessons. They took walks endlessly. They went to 
 "Mr. Corchoran's picture gallery"; to the Daguerrian gallery 
 where Nettie got a "fair picture"; to Mr. Phelps' gallery where 
 they saw Harriet Hosmer's statue of Beatrice Cenci. They at- 
 tended lectures at the Smithsonian — one by Edward Everett on 
 "Charity," and here one evening they heard Mr. Root sing "The 
 Winter Wind." 1 
 
 The cousins shopped in Baltimore, visited the Navy Yard, went 
 to Mount Vernon where "everything about the place gave evi- 
 dences of decay." Repeatedly they sat for hours in Congress, hear- 
 ing heated arguments over the Lecompton constitution for Kansas. 
 All three were well known at Dr. Phineas Gurley's church, the 
 New York Avenue Presbyterian, and the young women, at least, 
 
 Presumably George F. Root, singing Henry Russell's "Wind of the Winter 
 Night." 
 
HONEYMOON AND HOUSEKEEPING 59 
 
 went to the Union Prayer Meetings that were sweeping the coun- 
 try in a revival. 
 
 There was purely social life too in this gay Washington not yet 
 fully aware of deepening shadows. Mr. McCormick had many 
 friends in Washington and no doubt took pride in exhibiting his 
 lovely young wife. At a party given by Miss Saunders, a step- 
 daughter of Postmaster General Aaron V. Brown, "Nettie 
 dressed in white satin." They were guests at a party given by Mrs. 
 Floyd, wife of the Secretary of War. They called on Lord and 
 Lady Napier at the British Embassy. Judge Merrick, justice of the 
 Circuit Court of the District of Columbia, and Mrs. Merrick were 
 calling acquaintances and continued to be friends. Mr. Edmund 
 Burke, former Commissioner of Patents, Attorney General Jere- 
 miah Black, Jacob Thompson, Secretary of the Navy, were on 
 their calling list. Sometimes they drove; occasionally Nettie drove 
 with Mrs. Joseph Holt, wife of the Commissioner of Patents. The 
 young women spent much time with a friend, Mattie Ready, who 
 later was to marry John Hunt Morgan, dashing Confederate 
 raider. 
 
 Evidently there were pleasant relations with the President and 
 his niece. "Miss Lane/' said Ermina Merick, referring to one of 
 her reception days, "is of the Anglo-Saxon beauty, she looked very 
 pretty in her plain velvet basque and black silk. In her hair noth- 
 ing but simple ornaments of jet. She is exceedingly affable in her 
 manners and pleasant to all." It was on this occasion that "the Pres- 
 ident greeted us very cordially — was very jocose in his remarks. 
 Gave Nette some good advice, told her to govern her husband 
 well." A year or two later President Buchanan was to tell Mr. 
 McCormick that his wife had always been one of his favorites — 
 "Very good from the president!" wrote the pleased husband. 
 
 Some of the friendships lasted, notable among them that with 
 Sara A. Pryor, who was to become a successful writer after she 
 was seventy. Her husband, Roger A. Pryor, congressman before 
 the Civil War, Confederate general, and in later years judge, was a 
 friendly acquaintance of Mr. McCormick from earlier days. Years 
 later Mrs. Pryor wrote to Mrs. McCormick — "the dearest friend 
 I ever had": "It does not seem so long a time since I sat behind you 
 in church, marked your beautiful face in the white bonnet trimmed 
 
60 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 with thistles, and listened to my husband's information that you 
 were the bride of his friend Cyrus McCormick! Well — the face 
 changes but the heart never changes! " 
 
 In that first spring Mrs. McCormick was seriously ill. Ermina 
 Merick took tender care of her for weeks and Mr. McCormick 
 watched her anxiously. Finally late in June, when Mr. McCormick 
 had to leave Washington on business, a health tour began for the 
 convalescent. At Baltimore the couple parted for the first time 
 since their marriage; and Miss Merick and Richard Fowler, young- 
 est uncle of the cousins, went on with their charge to the Hygeia 
 House, a vast hotel at Old Point Comfort, Virginia. And here 
 began an itinerary that gave a panoramic view of summer resorts 
 of the period, then in their heyday. 
 
 The cousins and their escort spent nearly a month at Old Point 
 Comfort. They drove, gathered sea moss, went sightseeing, rested; 
 took sea baths in bathing houses and once venturesomely enjoyed 
 a "half bath" right out in the ocean with shoes and stockings off 
 and the ladies' petticoats tucked up. A great frolic. Events were 
 kind to them: one day, while cannon fired, they saw the steamer 
 Jamestown pass carrying the body of President Monroe to be re- 
 interred at Richmond in commemoration of the centennial of his 
 birth. (Did they recall hearing their Grandmother Fowler tell of 
 entertaining him at her inn? ) There was a brilliant dance to which 
 passengers from an excursion boat in port added glamour, the 
 French minister, Count de Sartiges, opening the ball with Miss 
 Harriet Lane. 
 
 But all this was as nothing compared with the bride's delight 
 in her husband's letters and his visit. "After looking anxiously," 
 she wrote, "and after having felt how severe the pang of disap- 
 pointment for four or five mornings, I was much the happiest crea- 
 ture imaginable by the gift of a good, plump letter superscribed 
 by a well-known hand — sealed with the initials 'C H McC — I 
 flew to my room, and with a palpitating heart — & eyes filling with 
 tears I could not repress and read my first letter from my hus- 
 band." The letter, carefully kept through the years, must have 
 been satisfying. The husband apologizes a little for writing a prac- 
 tical letter. "In writing my first letter to my dear wife, you may 
 possibly expect something like an effort to write one that will read 
 
HONEYMOON AND HOUSEKEEPING 6 1 
 
 well, or be a creditable specimen to be seen by a friend; but when 
 you shall think of the variety of pressing demands upon me here, 
 together with my practical method of treating and disposing of 
 matters & things in general, I feel that you will not be much dis- 
 appointed when I request you to excuse me at present for aiming 
 at nothing more than to communicate to you very briefly and in- 
 formally such thoughts or things as may be considered directly 
 interesting to you." Among these ''thoughts or things" were details 
 concerning the lawsuit that had brought him to Chicago, concern- 
 ing his church attendance (he wrote on a Sunday), news of family 
 and friends. But above all came his concern for her health, coupled 
 with an uneasy sense that he really ought to be with her. 
 
 Before July was half over Mr. McCormick came for a visit. 
 "His voice awoke me from sleep, after dreaming all night of him 
 
 oh how pleasant to wake & find my brightest dreams so fully 
 
 realized." They had two or three happy days together, counting 
 on Ermina and Richard to "forgive their exclusiveness," before 
 Mr. McCormick preceded his wife back to Washington. 
 
 The broiling midsummer month that they spent in the capital, 
 while Mr. McCormick worked over legal details, was memorable, 
 according to Ermina Merick's diary, for two outstanding events: 
 the completion of the laying of the "Atlantic Telegraph" August 
 4 — and the use of steam on canal boats celebrated in Rochester 
 and Buffalo and by New York State generally. 
 
 On August 17 the cable transmitted the first message, Queen 
 Victoria speaking to the President. But the McCormicks and 
 Ermina Merick missed the "Great Atlantic Cable celebration" on 
 September i because they were just leaving Saratoga Springs, 
 though on the next day in New York they "had some glimpses of 
 the great excitement." (Unfortunately the cable ceased working 
 on September 4.) 
 
 In Saratoga they had done the usual things. They stayed at 
 luxurious Congress Hall and drank the waters. They walked each 
 morning in the park — "and the deer met us in our path." Prob- 
 ably Nettie McCormick knew from family reminiscences about 
 her mother's visit to Saratoga Springs nearly thirty years before 
 and imagined the loved figure in these same walks where she her- 
 self now strolled. But it was not until long years afterward that 
 
6l NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 she found among a relative's papers her aunt Jane Merick's 
 account of the ambitious driving trip that included Saratoga. She 
 took a copy and added it to her special treasures. 
 
 It tells how Anson and Maria Fowler, their daughter Jane, and 
 their daughter-in-law Clarissa drove all the way from Jefferson 
 County to their Fowler and Esselstyn kinf oik in eastern New York 
 and central Connecticut. They stopped off here and there with 
 relatives and friends or at an inn. Clarissa and Jane, apparently 
 alone, spent more than two weeks at Saratoga Springs in a board- 
 ing house not far from Congress Hall — "from our window we have 
 a fair prospect of Congress Spring and the company as they pass 
 to and from the Spring ..." They drank the waters diligently, 
 took long walks, saw the sights, went to church, and observed with 
 pain the worldliness of the visitors, including their over-great devo- 
 tion to such diversions as nine-pins. 
 
 From New York Mr. McCormick conducted Nettie and Ermina 
 to his sister Caroline Shields in Juniata County, Pennsylvania, 
 where he left them while he went on to Chicago. After a few days' 
 visit Mr. Shields, a country minister in Mexico, Pennsylvania es- 
 corted the young women on the difficult journey to Alum Springs 
 in Mr. McCormick's native county, Rockbridge, Virginia. The last 
 five miles were by coach — a continual ascent in lovely autumn 
 scenery. At the springs they lived in a brick cottage of the hotel 
 set in a circular valley surrounded by mountains. They had a 
 room with a fireplace and chairs of old-fashioned splint. Almost 
 the only guests in this resort, as the season was over, they were 
 "under no restriction of conventionalities." 
 
 But there was a shadow over the young women's holiday — the 
 failing health of their grandmother, Maria Fowler, in Clayton. 
 Letters brought them word of her and "our aged Grandmother, as 
 she is near her final home is made the subject of prayer." Finally 
 the two returned to Washington and thence to Clayton. In suitable 
 company they took the steamer from New York to Albany and 
 reached Cape Vincent by train. "Only sixteen miles more to go," 
 wrote Miss Merick on October 24, "but cold weather prevents go- 
 ing tonight," and the next day in spite of buffalo robes they 
 "nearly perished with cold" on their stage ride. 
 
 They found Maria Fowler thin and pale, but peaceful in con- 
 templation of her approaching death. "She cannot bear to have 
 
HONEYMOON AND HOUSEKEEPING 63 
 
 Nettie out of her sight for a moment." Eldridge Fowler and Cyrus 
 McCormick joined Nettie at Clayton, and Grandmother Fowler 
 took comfort in the few days with her beloved children and in the 
 assurance that their marriages were good. She had been happy 
 when the two had "chosen Christians for companions"; now she 
 had "the bright anticipation of a reunion above." 
 
 Nettie left with her husband, then as always driven by the 
 gadfly of business. She was not to see her grandmother again, for 
 Maria Fowler died on January 4, 1859. 
 
 By early December, 1858 the McCormicks had changed the 
 doubtful comforts of Brown's Hotel in Washington for a fur- 
 nished house. Known as the Maynard House, it stood on a corner 
 of Lafayette Square, "which is one of the handsomest parks in this 
 or any city, nearly opposite the President's ... & this afternoon," 
 the young wife wrote on December 8, "we took up our abode in 
 our new home — our first home, and this evening we partook of 
 food for the first time from our own table, and for the first time 
 sat round our own fireside. May the fervent prayer which arose 
 from grateful hearts as we brought the day to a close by offering 
 our evening sacrifice, be realized by us a thousandfold. . . . The 
 laying of the corner stone of a Home is not a matter for lightness 
 or thoughtlessness The structure requires care & watchfulness, if 
 symmetry & beauty enter into its elements. . . . Time is the 
 builder & we furnish him the materials. Oh that in ours he may use 
 Love & Truth as the chief building material . . ." 
 
 Her family evidently watched with pride and confidence the 
 young bride's elevation to the place of mistress of a city house. 
 Her brother felt sure that her early experience in Clayton would 
 sustain her. His wife somewhat romantically visioned her as a 
 chatelaine — "with your bundle of keys tied to your apron-string 
 consulting your china and sweetmeat closets, with all the impor- 
 tance due to your new estate and presume you preside over your 
 new and elegant tea-set with becoming dignity ..." Her aunt, 
 Jane Merick, sent congratulations — "to every lady who possesses 
 a sensitive mind there is a joy in one's own home that can not be 
 expressed — " and gave her religious instruction in a wife's duties. 
 
 All during the month Mrs. McCormick sorrowed over her 
 grandmother's approaching death, recalling the love Maria Fowler 
 had showered on the orphan children, meditating on her fine 
 
64 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 Christian character, picturing the final visit at her bedside. On the 
 night of January 7 after Mrs. McCormick had retired her husband 
 came in with the sad words, "Nettie, your Grandma is no more." 
 In the rush of her grief Nettie was grateful for "a strong arm to 
 lean upon — a tender, sympathizing heart to feel with me in my 
 sorrow weep when I weep — " 
 
 By February Ermina Merick was again with the McCormicks, 
 this time accompanied by her brother Melzar. And the round of 
 calls, sightseeing, visiting art galleries and the Capitol began again. 
 Interesting names dot the record. Mr. and Mrs. Stephen A. Doug- 
 las called. They heard Fanny Kemble read Hamlet. There was 
 opera too — Marietta Piccolomini (the Italian singer with charming 
 personality and indifferent voice so long forgotten) in Don Pas- 
 quale. There was the funeral of Postmaster General Aaron V. 
 Brown in the East Room of the Executive Mansion. There were 
 parties, including the President's levee and the brilliant entertain- 
 ment given at Willard's Hotel to Lord Napier, the British Am- 
 bassador, and Lady Napier. The McCormick group stayed until 
 the late hour of two o'clock, and Miss Merick's account indicates 
 that they were impressed: 
 
 "The large dining hall was festooned with the American and 
 English flags. The stars and stripes with the red cross of England 
 being entwined together. On the wall opposite the Napier arms 
 were beautifully traced on a very large scale the two knights that 
 were supporters being the size of life. Over the two flags was a 
 large device very handsomely executed containing the shields of 
 Great Britain and the United States happily blended together, with 
 the rose, shamrock, and thistle on the former, and ornamented 
 with the Indian Cornstalk and leaves for the latter. 
 
 "The whole scene was a very brilliant one, there was a large 
 collection of beautiful women and superb and costly toilets, a large 
 number of distinguished persons. . . . The table was said to be 
 complete in every respect. Immediately in front of Lady N. stood 
 a pyramid of confectionery six feet high with appropriate devices, 
 ornamented at the top with the figure of Britannia; and another 
 similar ornament in a different part of the table, emblematical of 
 the United States. 
 
 "There were fourteen hundred persons present." 
 
 And then there was Nettie's first party. On the 25th of Febru- 
 
HONEYMOON AND HOUSEKEEPING 6$ 
 
 ary Ermina wrote: "This morning Nettie decided upon giving a 
 party. Have been very busy most of the day in writing." She spent 
 the next day too in writing invitations, and Nettie went out dis- 
 tributing them as custom required. "The etiquette of Washington 
 is so very different from that in any other city one feels almost 
 bewildered. This is Nettie's first experiment in party giving and 
 we find there are many things to be learned." The party was on 
 March first and all that we know of it, except for a little packet 
 of regrets, is in Ermina Merick's paragraph: 
 
 "Quite early we had everything in readiness. About four P.M. 
 Lord Napier called, giving Lady Napier's regret. We had a very 
 agreeable call from him, he seems very social in his feelings. About 
 half past nine the guests commenced to assemble. We had a band of 
 seven who discoursed operatic music which added very much to 
 the evening's entertainment. The table was also very fine. We had 
 just enough here to give ample room for each one to move about 
 at their pleasure. All seemed to enjoy themselves, and it is pro- 
 nounced a decided success. Nettie 's first party" 
 
 But what was on that "table"? And what did the hostess wear? 
 The diarist exasperatingly says not a word. In the absence of defi- 
 nite information one visualizes Mrs. McCormick as Healy painted 
 her in 1861: in a heavy ivory satin over spreading hoops. 
 
 It says something about Nettie McCormick that in the atmos- 
 phere of the fifties she gave a party only two and a half months be- 
 fore her first child was born. Something of independence of mind, 
 even allowing for the disguising aid of hoops, and certainly some- 
 thing of vitality and health. The child born in the Maynard House 
 early in the morning of May 16 was a son — "a nice looking baby 
 and very large." He was named Cyrus for his father and Rice for 
 Dr. Nathan Rice, his parents' friend who married them. (When he 
 was about thirteen or fourteen he was to drop the Rice and take his 
 father's name in full.) "Mr. McCormick," wrote Miss Merick, who 
 was in charge of the household, "is delighted with his heir, whom 
 he gives the title of 'Young Reaper? " 
 
 In the latter part of July Mr. McCormick took his wife and his 
 baby son to Walnut Grove, his old home in Rockbridge County, 
 Virginia, for their first visit. Years later Mrs. McCormick recalled 
 it in writing to a Virginia friend: "The day after arriving there 
 being Sunday," she said, "together we attended Mt. Carmel 
 
66 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 Church, and the incidents of that day, I can never forget. Its value 
 was in the impression on a young mind made by things I had heard 
 so much about.'' Her husband was a charter member of Mt. 
 Carmel — one of thirty-eight persons who came from neighboring 
 churches to organize Mt. Carmel Presbyterian Meeting House on 
 the road north of Steele's Tavern. At the time of that visit all of 
 Mr. McCormick's brothers and sisters had left the Valley of Vir- 
 ginia and both of his parents were dead; but there were McCor- 
 mick relatives in the neighborhood and many old friends. Mrs. 
 McCormick must have seen with rapt interest all the special places 
 of her husband's history — the fine old brick house, the blacksmith 
 shop where his invention was born, the field near Steele's Tav- 
 ern where the reaper was first tested, Old Providence Church and 
 graveyard where his parents were buried, New Providence 
 Church where he had led the singing — all vivid to her, no doubt, 
 from Mr. McCormick's descriptions. 
 
 A week after Cyrus the second was born Mr. McCormick left 
 for Indianapolis, feeling perfectly safe in trusting his wife to the 
 helpful care of Miss Merick and the young mother's brother. 
 
 Mr. McCormick's business in Indianapolis was to take action 
 that years later would result in giving that young wife the loving 
 title, "Mother of the Seminary." He went to the General Assembly 
 of the Presbyterian Church with a proposal to establish in Chicago 
 a school for the training of prospective ministers throughout the 
 great new Northwest in Old School Presbyterian doctrines. "Just 
 show him a cause and see how he fights," his wife once said. And 
 this, he believed, was a means of furthering the causes he cher- 
 ished — orthodox Presbyterian doctrine in general and in particular 
 the adherence of his church to a principle of no interference in 
 "politics," above all in the burning question of slavery. His pro- 
 posal was to endow, with $100,000 for four professorships, a sem- 
 inary already nominally existing, on condition of its transfer to 
 Chicago and from control of seven synods (which were growing 
 stronger in anti-slavery attitudes) to that of the General Assembly. 
 An important detail of his plan was that the professors should be 
 preachers, who would occupy Chicago pulpits, and contributors 
 to the Presbyterian religious press. In this way the Seminary would 
 spread the doctrines that were his "cause" throughout this great 
 
HONEYMOON AND HOUSEKEEPING 6j 
 
 opening region which he believed would determine the fate of the 
 Union. 
 
 The school that he sought to re-found had come into being after 
 the manner of frontier schools of that time. In the wilderness along 
 the Ohio River at Hanover, Indiana a pioneer Presbyterian minis- 
 ter, John Finley Crowe, had opened a grammar school with six 
 pupils in a log cabin. Out of this beginning and heroic effort 
 evolved both Hanover College and the Indiana Theological Semi- 
 nary. When at the end of ten gallant hard years funds were offered 
 to the Seminary if it would move to New Albany, Indiana, it ac- 
 cepted. And the name became the New Albany Theological Semi- 
 nary. The early period there was smooth enough, but presently the 
 sectional strife of the times began to tell: a rival seminary was set 
 up at Danville, Kentucky and again a removal was broached. The 
 school had meantime received bequests and $75,000 was offered 
 for location in Hyde Park, south of Chicago. This failed to go 
 through, but the effort to find a new home for the now all but 
 abandoned seminary continued. Decision was to be made at the 
 Assembly: Chicago or Indianapolis? 
 
 Into the balance Mr. McCormick cast a determining weight: his 
 conditional offer of $100,000 endowment. The debate was spirited, 
 but the offer won. So Mr. McCormick took back to his little fam- 
 ily a new responsibility. 
 
 How sharply all the incidents of this new absorption of her hus- 
 band's were impressed on Nettie McCormick's mind is shown by 
 the phrasing of a letter to her sons announcing a gift to this Semi- 
 nary fifty years later. ". . . And now, therefore, in commemora- 
 tion of the year 1859, and the scenes themselves, which I recall so 
 vividly, when your father was warmly enthusiastic over establish- 
 ing the Seminary in Chicago . . ." 
 
 Early in September of 1859 the McCormicks came back to 
 Chicago. They spent some weeks in the Richmond House, a well- 
 appointed hotel, opened only in 1857 on the northwest corner of 
 Michigan Avenue and South Water Street. Their "pleasant parlor" 
 overlooked Michigan Avenue and the Lake — its shoreline much 
 farther in then than now. 
 
 Shortly after their arrival Mrs. McCormick attended the United 
 States Fair, an annual event since 1851 held under the auspices of 
 
68 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 the National Agricultural Society. The "fair grounds" fronting 
 the Lake were on open land along Cottage Grove Avenue in the 
 southern part of Chicago. In the only reference to the Fair found 
 among Mrs. McCormick's papers, she says: 
 
 "There were beautiful & fleet horses of all colors & descriptions, 
 cattle that would have inclined almost any one to the pursuit of 
 farming & raising stock &c, machinery that would challenge the 
 admiration of the most skillful inventor for ingenuity of design & 
 beauty of action; implements of labor in every department of toil; 
 a gallery of fine art, painting, photographs, the most beautiful 
 specimens of writing from various commercial colleges &c. 
 
 "A beautiful Floral Hall, decorated with a Fountain, Flora's 
 Grotto &c, very beautiful, &c. The last day I stayed to witness a 
 trial of speed between twelve or fourteen horses." 
 
 She does not refer to her husband's machinery, but no doubt she 
 kept admiring eyes on his combined reaper and mower, which was 
 on exhibition though not competing. Perhaps this was the first of 
 the many exhibitions she attended in various cities where Mr. 
 McCormick's interests were involved. 
 
 Of course the McCormicks were presently in close and inter- 
 ested touch with the young Presbyterian Theological Seminary of 
 the North- West (as the General Assembly had christened it). 
 Classes began in September with fourteen students in a former 
 hotel building a little south of the present-day Loop. The four pro- 
 fessors were all at their posts. Dr. Nathan L. Rice was the 
 McCormicks' pastor and close friend — a man of rare ability and of 
 opinions in this troubled period that were congenial to Mr. 
 McCormick. Dr. Willis L. Lord's views were not congenial and in 
 the late sixties he and Mr. McCormick were to have a resounding 
 clash. The gentle Dr. LeRoy J. Halsey was to go through literal 
 fire and figurative flood with the Seminary and to die in harness 
 after thirty-seven years of faithful service. A detailed, careful His- 
 tory of the Seminary (to which this narrative is much indebted) is 
 his permanent memorial. Dr. William M. Scott lived next door to 
 the house that the McCormicks were soon to occupy on Dearborn 
 Street — a little distance above Chicago Avenue. 
 
 All four were inaugurated in the North Presbyterian Church 
 on two successive days in late October of 1859 and the McCor- 
 
HONEYMOON AND HOUSEKEEPING 69 
 
 micks were present. "These addresses were fine, and a real treat, 
 I assure you," Mrs. McCormick wrote. Mr. McCormick's photo- 
 graph was included with those of the professors in a thin volume 
 that contained the four addresses. And a chair was named for him, 
 "The Cyrus H. McCormick Professorship of Theology." 
 
'Uti&pfei* 6 
 
 IN AND OUT 
 OF CHICAGO 
 
 I 
 
 HE McCormicks' first Chicago house at 230 Dearborn 
 Street stood in a pleasant tree-lined row of red brick houses — in 
 one of those agreeable areas that sometimes won for the Chicago 
 of this period the name of "The Garden City." It was a single 
 house of three stories and basement with a high stoop and a railing 
 up to the front door. It had front and back parlors, a library, a 
 basement dining room, and five bedrooms. As for the furnishings 
 Miss Merick wrote that the parlor was in green and gold "and a 
 perfect correspondence throughout," and Mrs. McCormick: "No 
 pains have been spared to make it complete in everything which 
 contributes to the happiness of home. My dear husband's taste in 
 furnishings is superior to that of any gentleman I ever saw. A har- 
 mony runs through every room. Not his alone; we were always 
 united in our judgment of articles. He commends my taste also." 
 
 "Housekeeping goes well," she wrote early in i860. "I do want 
 to learn to be a good housekeeper & I intend to be one. My hus- 
 band & I agree exactly in this matter. He thinks there is nothing so 
 beautiful as a well regulated family." 
 
 The heart of the new home was of course the baby Cyrus, 
 nearly seven months old when they moved in. His mother did not 
 mention him in her journal (which has long gaps) until he had 
 cut his first two teeth. But from then on she sang the praises and 
 exploited the achievements of her plump, cherubic son. 
 
 On his first Christmas — a Sunday — the child in christening dress 
 and blue sash was baptized Cyrus Rice by his parents' friend Dr. 
 Rice in the North Presbyterian Church. This was in the second 
 building, a drab colored frame structure, where the baby's mother 
 
 70 
 
IN AND OUT OF CHICAGO 7 1 
 
 had sung before her marriage. Inside, the walls were papered with 
 faded blue in panels, and back of the pulpit was a perspective col- 
 onnade with paper tiling and paper columns. "The service was a 
 very solemn one. . . ." the mother wrote. "Cyrus behaved like a 
 man. His father took him in his arms to the altar; while the service 
 was going on he looked about on the congregation patting his little 
 hand on his father's arm. When the water was sprinkled on his 
 head & face he remained perfectly still, not a muscle moved save 
 he looked into the Dr.'s face as much as to say, 'What does that 
 mean?'" 
 
 Prosperity was evidenced by the size of the household — at least 
 a cook, a nurse, and a coachman to accompany a carriage with two 
 horses. 
 
 Through the reminiscent eyes of a neighbor it was possible to 
 get a glimpse — nearly seventy-five years later — of the life that 
 went on in the house. The neighbor was Cecilia DeWolf, a girl of 
 twelve then, whose parents lived next door but one to the McCor- 
 micks. On hot summer nights, Cecilia DeWolf Erskine recalled, 
 Mrs. McCormick would often sit on the DeWolf steps, talking 
 with the child's mother. Sometimes after Cecilia was supposed to 
 be in bed, she would creep downstairs in her nightgown and 
 listen in suppressed admiration to their conversation — in those 
 stirring days of i860. Perhaps among other things they talked 
 about the exciting nomination in May of Abraham Lincoln — inter- 
 esting, no doubt, but not thrilling, to the McCormicks. 
 
 It was Cecilia's pleasure to sit in a darkened bedroom beside the 
 crib of baby Cyrus and watch his big brown eyes open as he 
 wakened. And it was her proud privilege to take this future head 
 of the International Harvester Company for an airing. One day 
 she wheeled his carriage to the east past the grove of trees on Rush 
 Street where the McCormick family mansion was to stand to the 
 door of Isaac N. Arnold — a pleasant house in a great garden along 
 what is now North Michigan Avenue. The Arnolds were away, 
 but the friendly cook was there, and "Telie" landed her passen- 
 ger at the kitchen basement steps. Over-estimating her strength, 
 she lifted the heavy baby and started down, tripped, fell — and 
 baby and Telie, scared and bumped, both wept. The cook washed 
 their faces and applied brown paper plasters. Then, feeling all was 
 
72 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 over, Telie took little Cyrus home and told the sad story. Where- 
 upon the young mother, finding the damage slight, kissed baby and 
 Telie and spoke kindly about "next time." 
 
 This little girl, grown old, had other recollections: of Sunday 
 night supper where Mr. McCormick, whom she feared, demanded 
 if she would have "apple-sass," and of driving with Mrs. McCor- 
 mick to the studio of G. P. A. Healy on Lake Street when she sat 
 for her portrait. She recalled how eagerly Mrs. McCormick and 
 the artist, who had come from France to Chicago to improve his 
 fortunes, talked together. The painting that resulted — one of the 
 few Healy portraits of Chicagoans to survive the Fire — is a large 
 canvas showing Mrs. McCormick's figure at nearly full length, 
 in a heavy ivory satin over hoops, with deep straight decolletage. 
 Her hair is smoothly parted in the middle and her bearing dignified 
 and gracious. The characteristic of her mouth — the sweet, firm 
 lips tucked in at the corners — is clear. But her loveliness is not so 
 marked as in the portrait made by Cabanel in Paris a few years 
 later. 
 
 Her life must have been patterned much like that of other intel- 
 ligent young wives and mothers with the addition, even thus early, 
 of an unusual absorption in all of her husband's affairs. She had her 
 household, her child, her church. She had the interests of her 
 own relatives and of her husband's many relatives. She had a grow- 
 ing circle of acquaintances and friends. Evidently Mr. McCor- 
 mick's thought of entering heartily into Chicago society was car- 
 ried out. For as early as February 2, i860 the newcomers to Dear- 
 born Street had a party. In a period when there was comparatively 
 little opportunity for public entertainment, giving people pleasure 
 by entertaining them at home was a responsibility to be taken seri- 
 ously. The McCormicks so took it, and with satisfaction. "It was a 
 success," the hostess wrote. "The company, the supper, the music 
 did credit to any parlor or any place. The elite and the talented of 
 Chicago were among our guests, and the entertainment was, we 
 think, a fine one A friend said the finest table he ever saw in Chi- 
 cago. We have every reason to be delighted." 
 
 The part of Mr. McCormick's concerns that had to do with 
 patents took him during many months to and from Washington on 
 a sort of grand scale commuting. And sometimes his wife was with 
 him. During much of 1861 Eldridge and Mary Fowler, with their 
 
IN AND OUT OF CHICAGO 73 
 
 little son Melzar, lived — whether the McCormicks were present 
 or absent — in the house on Dearborn Street. Eldridge, not yet 
 established in business, was looking after some matters for Mr. 
 McCormick. Mary Fowler had in her care not only the house but 
 for a time young Cyrus; but presently his parents took him to live 
 with them at Brown's Hotel in Washington. From this base Mr. 
 McCormick pressed in vain for renewal of his 1847 patent. 
 
 A long Washington interval in 1861 covered the inauguration 
 of President Lincoln. In her journal Mrs. McCormick mentioned 
 the current belief that the event would not take place, and only 
 years afterward wrote that she had attended — "a sleety, raw cold 
 day it was, that 4th of March." 
 
 One hopes retroactively that she was in a carriage, for it was 
 only two months later that her second baby was born. Mary 
 Fowler had begun to worry as early as February about the long 
 tiresome journey that lay between sister Nettie and home. But 
 Mrs. McCormick's vitality was equal to the strain of the two-night 
 trip, and in May her daughter, Mary Virginia, arrived. Mr. 
 McCormick, who had been on a flying visit home, appears to have 
 left a few hours before the event. His letters show his constant 
 tender concern for the "fond & dear wife of his bosom" and their 
 ''beautiful, sweet little dependents, given by God." 
 
 As for Mr. McCormick's Chicago affairs they were as always 
 varied, his conduct of them was as always vigorous; and his wife, 
 then and thereafter, was involved in them. These included in the 
 early sixties the re-creation of a theological seminary, publishing 
 activities, and church interests. All, of course, in addition to the 
 direction of the growing reaper business in its good brick building 
 on the Chicago River near the Rush Street bridge. 
 
 His publishing activities were both secular and religious. When 
 Dr. Rice came to the North Church, he brought with him at Mr. 
 McCormick's expense the Presbyterian Expositor to fight for the 
 principles of Old School Presbyterianism and conservative De- 
 mocracy. In these institutions — the Democratic party and the 
 Presbyterian Church — Mr. McCormick believed as bulwarks of the 
 nation. But after the manner of propaganda papers the Expositor 
 was a heavy expense, and it was discontinued within two years. 
 
 During i860 Mr. McCormick bought both the Chicago Herald 
 and the Chicago Daily Times, which then represented different 
 
74 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 Democratic factions, and combined them as the Daily Chicago 
 Times. His purpose was to use this agency to advocate a compro- 
 mise course in the sharp controversies of these prewar days. But 
 within a year he had sold it to Wilbur F. Storey and two months 
 earlier had announced that he had turned over his interests to his 
 brother-in-law, Eldridge M. Fowler. 
 
 Southerner by birth, Northerner by adoption, Mr. McCor- 
 mick's course in these days was difficult and he did not escape 
 epithets inspired by the hot enmities of the time. His biographer, 
 Mr. William T. Hutchinson, defines his attitude: "As a Jefferso- 
 nian he was anti-slavery in principle, but he held that the Constitu- 
 tion sanctioned human bondage and that the Union should not be 
 endangered by agitating the issue of immediate emancipation." * 
 He believed that the uncompromising attitude of the Abolitionists 
 was unwise and that without it a program of gradual emancipation 
 would have been carried out by the South. He did not, however, 
 "champion slavery except in the sense that he believed immediate 
 emancipation by federal action without compensation would be 
 an invasion of States' rights and individual rights, and a remedy 
 worse than the disease." 2 Considering secession unconstitutional 
 and wrong, he held that the people, North and South, would speak 
 for union if allowed to speak, though it might be union at the cost 
 of continuing slavery in the South. 
 
 With these ideas strongly in mind, Mr. McCormick devoted his 
 energies to propaganda for peace conferences. These efforts he 
 continued even after the beginning of the War and his own forth- 
 right declaration of allegiance to the United States. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick's journals of the period reveal the agonized 
 interest with which she followed the course of events. She was 
 torn with grief over the war between brothers, stressing the horror 
 of it, deeply moved by her country's division and by the loss of 
 its high place in the world. "I have always had a pride of feeling," 
 she wrote, "when thinking of our country — great & glorious in- 
 deed a short time ago, but now mortification has taken its place 
 
 1 William T. Hutchinson, Cyrus Hall McCormick, Vol. II (New York, D. 
 Appleton-Century Company, 1935), pp. 38 and 39. Copyright, 1935, D. Appleton- 
 Century Company, Inc. and reprinted by permission of Appleton-Century-Crofts, 
 Inc. 
 
 3 Ibid. 
 
IN AND OUT OF CHICAGO 75 
 
 terror has followed upon tranquillity. . . . Oh God spare our 
 country." 
 
 Though naturally Mrs. McCormick identified herself with the 
 North, her anguished concern was for the nation as a whole. 
 With her husband, she disapproved of secession (on February 22, 
 1 86 1 she wrote of movements in Washington streets of troops 
 "bearing the Stars & Stripes — now so much in jeopardy and al- 
 ready disowned & dishonored by eight states"), but she did not 
 comment on the issues of the war, scarcely mentioning slavery. 
 "We have been both a covetous & a spendthrift nation," she wrote, 
 "and God is punishing us." 
 
 Of her husband's "errand-of-peace" she wrote late in 1864: "He 
 meets with encouragement from many prominent gentlemen, but 
 all are too fainthearted to stand for a settlement of our difficulties." 
 
 Mrs. McCormick was Northern, of a family every line of which 
 was no doubt committed to the Northern point of view. Her 
 Spicer kinfolk included Abolitionists who were organizers of the 
 underground railway. The Merick household, which helped mold 
 her youth, was clearly Whig. She had married a stout Democrat, 
 born and reared in the South, who while loyal to the Government 
 was trying energetically to stop the war. The young wife, only 
 thirty when the war ended, had adopted her husband's interests 
 wholeheartedly, and it is fairly evident that his views influenced 
 her. Besides, loyalty to him together with her own marked capac- 
 ity for sympathy would have kept her on a quiet course harmoni- 
 ous with his. 
 
 Meantime, regardless of any ideas of either, the reaper was 
 steadily at work on the Union side releasing men particularly of 
 the prairie states from the production of food to the waging of 
 war. 
 
 With probably the same general motive that inspired his publish- 
 ing and peace activities, Mr. McCormick entered politics in i860. 
 In the early winter he ran for the Democratic nomination for 
 mayor. He lost, but his successful opponent was defeated in the 
 election by the Republican candidate, "Long John" Wentworth. 
 Airs. McCormick believed that the people wanted her husband but 
 that the "politicians . . . spoiled it all" "However we, personally 
 congratulate ourselves," she added, "on our escape from a great 
 bore." 
 
J 6 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 The offices of governor, congressman, senator, vice president, 
 and ambassador, each in turn were to have some appeal for Mr. 
 McCormick. He never held elective office, however, though he 
 shared actively in Democratic party work — with money as well as 
 time. His wife did not favor his political ambitions, rather unflat- 
 teringly taking the view that his money was what counted most 
 with the politicians. 
 
 There were vacation intervals — one year Mr. and Mrs. McCor- 
 mick spent a time in the early autumn at that "busy mart of fash- 
 ion," as Mary Fowler called it, Newport. "I . . . almost envied 
 you a stroll upon the breezy cliffs of Newport, and a walk by the 
 'sounding sea.' " The next summer included a stay at Avon Springs, 
 New York, known to both, since there in his bachelor days Mr. 
 McCormick had drunk the waters and Nettie Fowler had more 
 than once visited this town while she was in school at near-by 
 Lima. Both had at least slight sentimental associations with the 
 place. 
 
 Through a strange set of circumstances it is possible to get a 
 fair impression of the dress and ornaments worn by Mrs. McCor- 
 mick in the early sixties. To the testimony supplied by a few 
 photographs may be added that brought out in Mr. McCormick's 
 "lost baggage case." 
 
 It happened that in March, 1862 Mr. and Mrs. McCormick, Miss 
 Merick, two servants, and the two children on their way from 
 Washington to Chicago spent a few days in Philadelphia. When 
 they went to the Pennsylvania Central Railroad station to com- 
 plete their journey, Mr. McCormick, seeing to tickets and checks 
 after the party's nine trunks had been loaded on board, learned 
 of $8.70 excess baggage charges. Considering this an unwarranted 
 overcharge, Mr. McCormick said so and closed the altercation by 
 ordering the nine trunks off the train. Unhappily, the station offi- 
 cials pronounced it too late; unhappily for every one concerned; 
 since, with what seemed a malicious operation of coincidence, the 
 station at Chicago was struck by lightning and burned before the 
 trunks could be removed. 
 
 After the war Mr. McCormick brought suit, and with charac- 
 teristic persistency fought the case through court after court, now 
 winning, now losing. Final settlement, in his favor, came after 
 
IN AND OUT OF CHICAGO 77 
 
 his death in 1884; and the amount of the award, $18,000, was less 
 than the amount he had spent in those years on counsel fees. 
 
 In at least one of the several hearings a full list is published of 
 Mrs. McCormick's gowns, accessories, and jewels. More than 
 forty separate dresses, wraps, waists, mantles, bonnets, and head- 
 dresses were described briefly by their owner, who was able — also 
 characteristically — to produce many of the bills to back her 
 claims. Looking down that list one gains charming impressions of 
 Mr. McCormick's young wife in the clothing and ornaments he 
 had bought to adorn her beauty. With her dark hair and eyes, her 
 clear rosy complexion, her slender tallness, she must have been 
 lovely in a rich, pearl-colored silk, with a deep flounce and white 
 silk fringe, or in a fine grenadine in "small bouquet pattern,'' 
 with green accents; and striking in a black and crimson plaid silk, 
 worn with crimson and black chenille net headdress. No one color 
 prevailed in this wardrobe: there were black silk and velvet, brown 
 Irish poplin, white Swiss muslin, a blue and a purple organdy, a 
 stone-colored grenadine, a white nainsook "breakfast dress," with 
 French embroidery. An evening dress pattern destined never to 
 be made up, was of white Chene silk, with a wreath of roses and 
 fine thread lace. Perhaps with it Nettie McCormick would have 
 carried her pearl fan, "inlaid with silver, richly carved." 
 
 Among the bonnets and headdresses that fed the flames were a 
 green dress bonnet, a white velvet with ostrich feather and lace, 
 headdresses of green silk velvet, of crimson velvet, and black. The 
 laces mentioned forecast the taste and interest of one who was to 
 become a connoisseur of laces. In wraps, there were a black velvet 
 cloak, a black silk mantilla "with bertha of Guipure lace," and 
 shawls of Brussels black thread, of fabrics from Tibet and from 
 India. 
 
 The list of lost jewelry included the bridegroom's wedding pres- 
 ents, already mentioned, and other pieces. An Etruscan necklace 
 set with carbuncles and pearls was restored to Mrs. McCormick in 
 a trunk that escaped the fire. 
 
 To those who knew Mrs. McCormick only after her husband's 
 death, this colorful inventory must be hard to credit. For a pro- 
 tracted period she wore heavy crape, in the manner of the eighties, 
 never returning to colors more conspicuous than mauve and gray. 
 
78 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 And the jewelry she wore was limited to perhaps a fine ring and a 
 pin. 
 
 She was soon to have a chance to replenish her fire-reduced 
 wardrobe at fashion headquarters abroad. For in the summer of 
 1862 the McCormicks went to England and the Continent. 
 
 The motive for the trip was promotion of the reaper business 
 abroad and, in particular, exhibition of the reaper at the Inter- 
 national Exhibition of Arts and Manufactures in London. In de- 
 ciding to go Mr. McCormick was no doubt influenced too by 
 disheartenment over the war situation. 
 
 With whatever mingling of motives and emotions, the family 
 sailed for Liverpool on the S. S. Scotia July 16, 1862, about two 
 months after Leander McCormick and his family and other 
 representatives of the firm had sailed with the same general pur- 
 pose. Besides the two little children and a servant, Mr. and Mrs. 
 McCormick took along his eldest niece, sixteen-year-old Mary Car- 
 oline Adams. Miss Adams had been snatched from a young ladies' 
 seminary in Chicago to prepare on short notice for the thrilling 
 experience of a six months' trip abroad as "company" for her 
 young aunt. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick's relatives shared with interest in her prepara- 
 tions for her first trip abroad. Her aunt Jane Merick gave her anx- 
 ious advice to wear "double gowns" on the cold crossing, and 
 Ermina Merick added pink and blue hoods and sacks for little Mary 
 and a remedy for seasickness for the adults — brandy and water, 
 carbonate of soda, and tartaric acid. 
 
 The party, thus prepared, spent ten days on the Scotia, a fine 
 new ship, provided with every comfort. But despite Miss Merick's 
 efforts, Mrs. McCormick was "more or less seasick & miserable all 
 the way over," and looked forward eagerly to landing. 
 
 Arriving in London on a Saturday night, the party went to 
 Fenton's Hotel in St. James' Street — a short street between Picca- 
 dilly and Pall Mall. 
 
 The next day Mr. McCormick got breakfast over early and gave 
 his wife her first glimpse of London from a cab that carried them 
 across the river to the Tabernacle to hear the preaching of Charles 
 H. Spurgeon, then at the height of his powers. Mrs. McCormick 
 described that experience: 
 
IN AND OUT OF CHICAGO 79 
 
 "When we arrived at the place I saw a vast crowd of persons 
 waiting at the doors as though there was no admittance. At home 
 every body went into the church as fast as they came. Now the 
 doors open & what a crush. We got into the current, the only 
 chance of getting in at all, and now the surging toward the doors 
 becomes fearful. ... I thought I should be crushed to death & 
 only but for Mr. McC's strong arm I think I should have been 
 hurt — after getting inside the rush for seats is fearful. We got a 
 seat in the gallery — and what a scene met my eyes. I was so over- 
 whelmed that tears would come in spite of me — here was a vast 
 edifice, lofty & broad — filled to overflowing with immortal beings. 
 This vast assemblage, the errand on which they came, the full 
 chorus of praise as it were from this sea of human beings, the sol- 
 emn & unusually impressive voice of the minister all combined 
 to make the scene indellible on my memory. . . . There are two 
 galleries running all round the building of light & airy architec- 
 ture & the stand where Air. Spurgeon preaches — for it is not a 
 pulpit — is on the first gallery & here he speaks, without notes; and 
 upon his words his audience hang seemingly enchanted. This ser- 
 mon impressed me, though at first I was somewhat disappointed in 
 him. The style was earnest, quite appealing to & enlisting the feel- 
 ings, though addressed to the reason. His eloquence at times was 
 quite equal to his fame." 
 
 It was a good start for Mrs. McCormick on a long course of 
 sightseeing — in art galleries, museums, and at scenes of historical 
 interest. Her husband's business interests, taking him in haste from 
 city to city, left him little time for such pursuits even if he had 
 been so inclined. Naturally the children were sightseers too. The 
 earliest recollection of his mother that her eldest son could sum- 
 mon in the 1930's was that of being taken home to her, all wet and 
 dripping from an accidental immersion in a fishpond in the great 
 Crystal Palace on Sydenham Hill. 
 
 It was in the Crystal Palace that the Exposition was held — a 
 great structure of metal and glass extending over twenty-four 
 acres of ground in South Kensington. The McCormick exhibit was 
 a de luxe specimen of self-rake reaper, its platform covered with 
 "planished copper," its beautifully grained ash woodwork polished 
 and decorated. Mounted on a low platform against the prescribed 
 
80 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 maroon background, it must have been a brave sight. One readily 
 imagines Mrs. McCormick's pride in it as she led the future head 
 of the company by his small hand to inspect it. 
 
 When the time came for bestowal of awards, the McCormick 
 reaper received a medal. Other awards in generous number came 
 to the machines that had been prepared for other exhibitions and 
 for field trials during this season and the next — in England and 
 Scotland and in half a dozen European states. Mrs. McCormick 
 kept in close touch with her husband's activities; he told her what 
 was going on and when absent sent her commissions to write, to 
 telegraph, to talk with agents, to dispatch wanted machine parts by 
 courier. In this period Mr. McCormick was working intensively 
 (his wife wrote in her journal), on "an important improvement 
 for tangled grain — lengthening the divider and extending the rake 
 head to reach the straggling grain," and there were many field 
 tests. Mrs. McCormick accompanied him on some of his trips to 
 put the reaper into competitions. Once, wishing to see the reaper 
 in a critical test in rye, she took young Cyrus and drove out to the 
 field, but finding there were "few, if any ladies present" she re- 
 mained in her carriage. 
 
 In the fall of 1862 she was with Mr. McCormick in Scotland on 
 a combination business and sightseeing trip that in a late year of 
 her life she referred to as a "honeymoon" — the honeymoon that 
 business had prevented in 1858. And for that matter, business made 
 this a "honeymoon" of brief intervals, for Mr. McCormick was 
 busy here and there concerning the reaper. Meantime his wife, 
 sometimes with Mrs. Leander McCormick, went sightseeing in 
 Edinburgh, the Trossachs, Stirling, Melrose ("Melrose!" she 
 wrote), Ayr, and other places. 
 
 Back in London, they managed some degree of family life in the 
 hotel on St. James' Street. At the close of 1862 Mrs. McCormick 
 summed up the year's progress of her two children: "Cyrus has 
 progressed rapidly — in intelligence in health & strength & sweet- 
 ness & in obedience. Mary is talking everything & is a great strong 
 girl running every where, climbing up on all the chairs & trying 
 to do everything any body else does — a great mimic — obedient 
 too, with one of the clearest perceptions of right & wrong. . . . 
 Affectionate too, she cartt hold out against reproof but almost in- 
 stantly yields & puts up her sweet mouth for the kiss & reconcilia- 
 
IN AND OUT OF CHICAGO 8 1 
 
 tion. . . . Her tone & gesture when she reproves Cyrus with such 
 mock gravity, with uplifted ringer & assumed authority she says 
 'Tywah, oh Tywah!' or, 'why, Tywah' are all interesting to 
 those whose gift she is. . . ." 
 
 When it became clear that the McCormicks' stay was to 
 last far beyond the intended six months, young Mary Adams was 
 sent to a finishing school in Geneva. Her aunt returned from 
 Brighton (where she and the children had enjoyed the sea air for 
 several weeks) to fit her for school and afterward, with her hus- 
 band, visited Geneva to make sure of Mary's instruction in French, 
 dancing, piano. It was an experience that gave the young lady 
 considerable edge on her Chicago friends when, complete with 
 tioops, she returned to the Mid- West. Few Chicago girls at that 
 dme beside Julia Newberry and her sister and Mary Adams were 
 'finished" in the European way. In these two glorious years Mary 
 \dams enjoyed not only school in Switzerland, but happy times 
 n London and Paris, with the young aunt whose society in itself 
 was thrilling. Among other memories she handed down to her 
 children a picture of herself hanging over the stairs at the Ameri- 
 :an Ministry in London with a daughter of Charles Francis Adams 
 when parties were being given. The figure of the Empress Eugenie 
 nade much of the magic of Paris — especially to this young girl 
 whose hair was the same Titian red as Eugenie's. She recalled the 
 *age for dyeing hair to that shade, and how in one shop they 
 offered to make Nettie McCormick's dark locks as bright as her 
 liece's. 
 
 The trip to Geneva gave Mrs. McCormick her first glimpse of 
 Switzerland and she eagerly prolonged it a little after Mr. McCor- 
 nick left — but not as long as she wished, for business controlled 
 ier too. She joined her husband at other points and he escorted her 
 :o Travemiinde on the north coast of Germany, where she spent 
 i month in "this quiet nook of creation," taking the baths and 
 3uilding up strength for the coming of another child in the fall. 
 When she felt it was safe, she undertook an itinerary that included 
 Berlin, Heidelberg, Frankfurt am Main, Dresden. She reassured 
 ler husband, who had returned to Scotland on business, that she 
 was exercising care, avoiding fatigue as she visited galleries, muse- 
 jms, castles, palaces. No doubt she was careful; but she was also 
 determined, and this was something she longed to do. Perhaps not 
 
82 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 many women in her situation, with two little children along, even 
 with the aid of a faithful maid would, for instance, have got off a 
 train at half past three in the morning in order to visit Heidelberg 
 Castle. 
 
 But all was well. On October 26 of that year another McCor- 
 mick son, Robert Fowler, was born. He began his brief life in a 
 hotel in Upper Norwood a few days apparently after his parents' 
 arrival from Tunbridge Wells. That winter the family continued 
 to live in the Upper Norwood hotel. They were evidently com- 
 fortable, for Eldridge Fowler wrote: 
 
 "We see that you are pleasantly located (as pleasantly as you 
 can be away from home), and quite as much by yourself, as 
 though you were in your own house and not boarding; that you 
 are living almost a country life, and are yet in the midst of a multi- 
 tude; it is good for you and the children that you can breathe the 
 fresh air. ..." 
 
 In June of 1864 Mr. McCormick came back to run for Congress 
 against "Long John" Wentworth. He intended to return to Eng- 
 land late in July, but his political situation and his business held 
 him in the United States. His wife and family, however, remained 
 in London until early in November, living in a house in St. John's 
 Wood, near Regent's Park. There Mrs. McCormick led an agree- 
 able life, with the three children. "I am delighted to find," wrote a 
 friend of her St. Lawrence days, "you are a lady that can look 
 after yourself so well in your husband's absence." 
 
I L/Jaapfer 7 
 SOJOURN IN NEW YORK 
 
 I 
 
 T IS late in 1864 now, and the scene is New York City, still a 
 city of houses, with skyline so low that six stories are sensational. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick, coming home unseasonably in mid-November 
 from England, could hardly have known as she looked at the fa- 
 miliar outlines that this was to be her home for the next seven 
 years. Even her husband, hurrying on from Chicago to join her 
 and the three children in the Fifth Avenue Hotel, probably would 
 have scouted the thought. 
 
 But, still counting Chicago their residence, they nevertheless 
 stayed in New York. Mr. McCormick's candidacy for Congress 
 having, not unexpectedly, failed, no political obligation drew him 
 back. He had just signed a new contract with his brothers. His 
 patent matters were more easily handled from New York, where 
 his lawyers lived, than from Chicago, and the many enterprises — 
 mines and railroads and land companies — in which he was now 
 investing his surplus profits centered there too. Perhaps there were 
 additional reasons in the unsatisfactory state of his favorite phi- 
 lanthropy, the Seminary of the North-West, and in consideration 
 of the sharper criticism likely to be directed against him in his 
 Chicago home than in New York for the breadth of his views on 
 the war. "Chicago, while a great city, and with a great future be- 
 fore it," he wrote, "has lost much of its interest for me by means 
 of the radical rule there." 
 
 The dark summer of 1864 was past, with its depressing defeats 
 for the North, the growing insistence on peace, the heightened 
 unpopularity of President Lincoln. Horace Greeley, agreeing with 
 those Republicans who had wished to call a new convention at 
 Cincinnati to name another candidate, had announced that Lincoln 
 was beaten. But Northern victories on land and sea had changed 
 
 83 
 
84 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 all that. The war clearly was not a failure, as the Chicago conven- 
 tion of Democrats had proclaimed it, and McClellan had carried 
 only 21 electoral votes against Lincoln's 212. Mr. McCormick, 
 however, did not yet foresee a Northern victory as the way to 
 union and continued his efforts for peace through negotiation de- 
 signed to restore union, with slavery if necessary. Just before his 
 wife's return from Europe he wrote a long letter, published in 
 both Chicago and Washington, which urged that the Democratic 
 party call a national convention to find ways of ending the war. 
 
 The family's residential range was lower Fifth Avenue. At first 
 they lived in the Fifth Avenue Hotel, at Twenty-third Street, one 
 of New York's exceptional six story buildings then only a few 
 years old. They occupied a comfortable suite on the second floor — 
 chosen perhaps to avoid stairs, for the hotel had not yet achieved 
 the elevator that was presently to make it a pioneer. 
 
 But it was an error, Mrs. McCormick was to say later, to live 
 there, for she held hotel life responsible for her children's illness. 
 Scarlet fever struck at all three during the first winter and little 
 Robert died before he had finished his fifteenth month. His 
 mother, writing of him a month later, said: "He was as compan- 
 ionable as a child two or three years old — neither in looks or acts 
 was he infantile. Every one remarked that he was a child of un- 
 usual promise. . . . Thus you will see how fair a flower has with- 
 ered in our garden — or I ought to say has been transplanted to a 
 more genial soil." A box containing a few dried flowers, a bit of 
 the lining of his rosewood casket, a fragment of the white velvet 
 trimming of his burial dress, and yellowed clippings of tender verse 
 about beloved babes, remained among the mother's treasures 
 throughout the years of her long life. And the entry in her journal 
 on the day of his death — for no eyes but her own — preserved a 
 record of anguish. 
 
 The family was still in the hotel when at last the war ended, 
 still there fifteen days later when the long, solemn procession fol- 
 lowing President Lincoln's body passed through the streets. But 
 their available correspondence and her journal are silent on these 
 days. 
 
 From the Fifth Avenue Hotel the McCormicks moved into a 
 rented house on the Avenue. But presently they bought (for some 
 $80,000) a house at No. 40 Fifth Avenue just north of the Church 
 
SOJOURN IN NEW YORK 85 
 
 of the Ascension, added several thousands for part of the furnish- 
 ings, brought some things on from Chicago, supplied others; and 
 late in 1866 the family moved in. It was a fine four-story house, 
 the first floor including a dining room with a sunny bay window, 
 where the children recited their Latin lessons to a tutor. Fragmen- 
 tary memories and gleanings from papers reveal paintings, marbles, 
 bronzes, and — choice treasure — a marble bust of Mrs. McCormick 
 by Erastus Dow Palmer which had been shown at the Artists' 
 Fund Exhibition. These survived to grace the Chicago mansion. So 
 did a large library of richly bound books, selected with expert aid. 
 
 This house was in a charming residential region. Houses had 
 gardens. There were trees; there was space. Cyrus the second al- 
 ways remembered peacocks in grounds between Fifth and Sixth 
 Avenues on Fourteenth Street. As Mrs. McCormick saw it, the 
 house was in "a central position of the city, which we think is an 
 advantage, though the tide of living seems to set in the direction 
 of the northern part of the city." But there were as yet no elevated 
 roads to carry the population far northward. Columbia College 
 was on Madison Avenue at Forty-ninth Street, Grand Central Sta- 
 tion was a little way in the future, the Croton Reservoir stood 
 where much later the Public Library was to stand behind its lions. 
 And St. Patrick's Cathedral was a site and a cornerstone. Traffic 
 was beginning to crowd the streets — not very well paved nor very 
 clean streets; but it was horse-drawn traffic, whether of carriages 
 or of street cars. Trees lined avenues as well as cross streets. 
 Under the lavish spending program of the corrupt Tweed regime 
 Broadway was widened and carried northward from Central Park 
 along the line of the old Bloomingdale Road. And Manhattan stood 
 alone, united to Brooklyn and New Jersey by nothing more defi- 
 nite than ferry lines. 
 
 There were again three children in the McCormick family when 
 it moved into its Fifth Avenue home. For a second daughter had 
 been born at Manchester, Vermont that past summer — hastening 
 into life, it appeared, in order to arrive on July 4, though her fa- 
 ther had not yet reached Manchester and her mother had only two 
 days before moved nurse, governess, children, and baggage from 
 the Equinox House to a private home. 
 
 There had been much writing back and forth between husband 
 and wife as to the proper place for the family to go when summer 
 
86 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 heat should begin. Mr. McCormick had favored this village in the 
 Green Mountains, and his wife was enthusiastic about the air — "as 
 pure as any I ever breathed" — and the beauty of village and 
 mountains — "all nature is clothed in the intensest green I ever 
 saw." The children, Cyrus and Mary, were very happy there. 
 
 Two days after the baby came, Mrs. McCormick wrote to her 
 husband: "Baby was born day before yesterday, & I have been per- 
 fectly well ever since. . . . Baby is so fine & healthy, & really 
 pretty. She sleeps & eats well." The new arrival was to remain 
 "Baby," or tentatively "Nettie," until after her parents' return 
 from their second trip abroad. On shipboard Mrs. McCormick met 
 and admired an Anita and adopted for her baby this name so 
 closely related to her own. To Anita she added the name of the 
 Empress Eugenie. Anita herself, however, dropped the Eugenie 
 while still in her girlhood. 
 
 It was a busy life that Mrs. McCormick was leading now — as 
 mother of three children, mistress of a large house, director of 
 governesses, tutors, maids, sharer in the activities of a man who 
 was a human dynamo. She had many social responsibilities too and 
 played her part in church and philanthropy. 
 
 Well known people from various parts of the country came and 
 went through the hospitable doors of No. 40 — visitors from out- 
 side of New York such as Dr. James McCosh, president of the 
 College of New Jersey at Princeton, Dr. Benjamin Mosby Smith, 
 from the faculty of Union Theological Seminary in Richmond, 
 Virginia, clergymen of note like Dr. William S. Plumer of South 
 Carolina, and many others. Stately Dr. Plumer, with his flowing 
 white beard and hair and his slouch hat, and young Mrs. McCor- 
 mick, with her rosy cheeks, made an impressive couple as they rode 
 horseback in Central Park. One of Dr. Smith's two little daughters 
 who accompanied him to New York remembered always this 
 "sweet, beautiful home." She wrote: "The most distinct memory 
 I have ... is of the children's room where you took us and let us 
 get acquainted with your little ones. It amuses me to think how 
 astonished I was at hearing your son Cyrus speak French to the 
 butler. ... I had seldom, if ever, heard a foreign language spoken 
 and that a child could speak French with such every-day ease filled 
 me with wonder." 
 
 Among the New Yorkers who came to the house were Samuel 
 
SOJOURN IN NEW YORK 87 
 
 J. Tilden, later to be governor of New York and almost President 
 when he was the Democratic candidate opposing Hayes, Cyrus 
 Field, promoter of the first Atlantic cable, James Gordon Bennett, 
 founder and publisher of the New York Herald, and S. L. M. Bar- 
 low, eminent lawyer, ardent Democrat, enthusiastic bibliophile. 
 Not least among the callers was Horace Greeley, editor of the 
 New York Tribune. Mr. Greeley sometimes came, informally, to 
 breakfast — came, Mrs. McCormick recalled, to obtain peace and 
 quiet away from the turmoil of his own home, where Mrs. Greeley 
 and her maids were all too often in an uproar of dissension. As 
 Cyrus the second remembered it, he would appear at about half 
 past eight, the new Tribune under his arm, exchange greetings with 
 the boy, and retire to the library to scan the paper. "Just tell your 
 father and mother I'm here," he would direct. "But they need not 
 hurry — I'll stay for breakfast." Cyrus would promptly carry the 
 word upstairs and presently his parents would descend. 
 
 Many of the McCormicks' close personal friends in New York 
 were among a large group of Southerners who had settled in the 
 North before the war or had come to New York at its close to re- 
 pair their estate. Among the latter were General and Mrs. Pryor, 
 whom they had known in Washington. In the difficult sixties, after 
 Appomattox, General Pryor was seeking a legal foothold and con- 
 tending against the prejudice felt in New York toward a former 
 Confederate general, and his brilliant family was living on courage 
 and resourcefulness in Brooklyn. The friendship, only interrupted 
 by the separations of wartime, was gradually resumed and con- 
 tinued as the Pryor sons and daughters worked out their interesting 
 destinies. Even after General Pryor had become an honored judge 
 and Mrs. Pryor a recognized author, a succession of difficult and 
 tragic situations in the lives of the Pryor children made the help- 
 ful friendship of Nettie McCormick doubly precious. 
 
 Nearer at hand were the Algernon Sydney Sullivans, just around 
 the corner in West Eleventh Street. Mr. Sullivan was a prominent 
 attorney of the highest standing in legal circles for ability and in- 
 tegrity and a truly public-spirited citizen. Between Mrs. Sullivan 
 and Mrs. McCormick, as between Mrs. McCormick and Mrs. 
 Pryor, a close friendship grew, to last through the years until they 
 were noted, when they appeared in public, as two "beautiful old 
 ladies." Both were charming, gracious, gentle but spirited. Mrs. 
 
88 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 McCormick's marriage to a Southerner supplied a bond with Mary- 
 Mildred Sullivan, a Virginian married to a Northerner, and con- 
 genial interests bound them together. 
 
 Mrs. Sullivan was the leader in a movement to raise money for 
 the desperate needs of the women and children of the South. A 
 number of well known women joined her in forming the "New 
 York Ladies' Southern Relief Society," and in this number Mrs. 
 McCormick was naturally included. It was a philanthropy that 
 called for a certain amount of moral courage in the bitterness of 
 war and early postwar days. 
 
 There was a Sullivan son, George, of about young Cyrus's age, 
 and the little boys soon were comrades. They and the other lads of 
 that neighborhood played busily around that block on lower Fifth 
 Avenue, specializing in the digging of large deep holes for resi- 
 dential purposes in the Sullivans' back yard. The McCormick back 
 yard, it appeared, was paved and perhaps psychologically less avail- 
 able. 
 
 Another benevolence in which Mrs. McCormick worked with 
 Mrs. Sullivan was the Nursery and Child's Hospital, perhaps her 
 first active participation in the practical problems of an institution. 
 This hospital had been founded in 1854 to care for the children of 
 wet nurses and take daily charge of infants whose mothers worked 
 away from home. Gradually it had become a foundling home and 
 a lying-in hospital, with some state aid. Mrs. McCormick and Mrs. 
 Sullivan were both energetic members of the board of managers. 
 At one time Mrs. McCormick and two others constituted a 
 "finance committee" to discover an enormous leakage and cor- 
 rect abuses — a trust executed with such vigor that the directress in 
 praising the zealous committee nevertheless suggested that econ- 
 omy was being overdone! One year, Mrs. Sullivan remembered, 
 the two friends went together to the annual ball given for the 
 cause. 
 
 On Sundays the McCormick family joined the worshippers in 
 "The Presbyterian Church on Fifth Avenue at Nineteenth Street," 
 as it was cumbersomely called until shortened to the Fifth Avenue 
 Presbyterian Church. Pew 51 was their church home for at least 
 several years while their membership remained in the North 
 Church, Chicago. Naturally they found the church congenial, for 
 their friend Dr. Nathan Rice had come to this parish when, to 
 
SOJOURN IN NEW YORK 89 
 
 their grief, he left the faculty of the Seminary. After he resigned 
 in 1867, the pulpit was occupied by Dr. John Hall, to whose entire 
 family the McCormicks became deeply attached. 
 
 Mr. McCormick's home was also his office, the focus of the 
 many interests that held him in the East. And if his home was his 
 office, so increasingly Mr. McCormick's wife was his assistant. Her 
 handwriting appears frequently in his papers of the sixties, some- 
 times as a copyist, sometimes as the responsible correspondent in 
 his affairs. In his library and ' 'business room" at No. 40 space was 
 allowed in the shelves for boxes to hold papers, and Mrs. McCor- 
 mick did the filing, often mounting a stepladder for the purpose. In 
 addition to copying letters by hand — "a free, practical easy hand — 
 businesslike in all respects" — she sometimes made letter-press 
 copies. And lest the present generation may not know the mean- 
 ing of that term, let it be informed that letters were written in a 
 special ink, the pages were then applied to a dampened tissue paper 
 sheet and the whole was pressed in a heavy piece of clamping ma- 
 chinery not easy to operate. Young Cyrus had a turn at it some- 
 times; and one year a nephew of Mr. McCormick, acting as his 
 secretary, aided. 
 
 As for Mrs. McCormick's share in her husband's counsels, all 
 who knew her testify that it was constant, pertinent, required. In 
 a letter of 1873 he wrote to her what was obviously true both be- 
 fore and after: "I feel the want of your counsel too in matters of 
 importance requiring my attention, &c." 
 
 It was business that took Mr. McCormick abroad in 1867 — the 
 advancement of the reaper in Europe and in particular its presenta- 
 tion at the Universal Exposition to be held in Paris that year. This 
 was an ambitious undertaking of the Emperor Napoleon III, de- 
 signed no doubt to bolster his weakening prestige and to divert 
 attention from the menacing European situation. Mr. McCormick 
 hesitated about entering his machines, but finally decided to try. 
 As usual, he wished his wife to accompany him. But the three little 
 children, the youngest only a baby, were a problem: should she 
 leave them, take them along, or stay at home with them? The final 
 decision was made at almost the last moment. The children were 
 entrusted to Mr. and Mrs. Luther Wright of Oswego, New York, 
 friends of Nettie McCormick and of her Uncle Merick's family 
 for many years. They offered a comfortable home, large grounds, 
 
90 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 fresh vegetables, "a cow for baby's nourishment," and Mrs. Mc- 
 Cormick surrendered to this "glowing picture of juvenile felicity." 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. McCormick sailed on Saturday, the fifteenth of 
 June. From on board the St. Laurent Mrs. McCormick wrote to 
 Ermina: "I could not see my way clear to leave the children or to 
 bring them until Friday. I preferred to remain at home with them, 
 but this Mr. McC. would not listen to. As it is, I shall not remain 
 from home long." (A few years later she was to say, "When I am 
 once away from home I have no power to come back when I wish 
 to.") She was content with her decision, however — "Now that I 
 am here and they are so happily situated in a healthy locality and 
 lack nothing I am satisfied it was the wisest to leave them." But the 
 farewells had been hard. "Dear baby, I kissed her so many times 
 good bye, but she only looked at me in astonishment. I was glad 
 to get a last wave of your handkerchief as you & Cyrus & Mary 
 sat in the carriage as the ship left the wharf." 
 
 At the end of two weeks the McCormicks were established in 
 the Grand Hotel near the new opera house in Paris. No doubt 
 they soon made their way to the Champ de Mars to view the acres 
 of Exposition display. A vast building had been erected in the cen- 
 ter of the great space, fronting on the left bank of the Seine, to 
 house the varied exhibits — everything conceivable in the way of 
 fine arts, industrial apparatus and processes, agricultural aids, fur- 
 niture, food, clothing, plants — in short, the world of 1867 in ten 
 groups with ninety-five classes. 
 
 Mr. McCormick was entering both mower and reaper in the 
 field contests connected with the exhibitions. The first mower 
 contest — inconclusive because of bad weather — was over before 
 the McCormicks arrived. The second, in midsummer, gave Mr. 
 McCormick third place. Reaper contests, to take place in grain, 
 had to await the harvest. 
 
 Meantime, the McCormicks attended a spectacular distribution 
 of prizes on July 1 by the Emperor Napoleon, accompanied by the 
 Empress Eugenie, at which the first Sultan of Turkey ever to leave 
 his shores and the Prince of Wales were guests. Fifty thousand 
 people, Mrs. McCormick wrote, filled a vast hall, colors rioted, 
 bells rang, drums beat. And finally the imperial party walked 
 around the building, the Empress in white satin, radiant with dia- 
 
SOJOURN IN NEW YORK 9 1 
 
 monds, gracious — "every inch an Empress," Mrs. McCormick 
 thought. 
 
 Another activity, in the interval before the reaper contests, was 
 to make the acquaintance of "M. Tisserand, M. Chevalier, and 
 other Frenchmen influential in the Great Exposition, the former 
 being the governor of the Emperor's entire landed estates and the 
 latter the great French political economist." 
 
 Mr. McCormick probably cultivated acquaintance with others 
 of importance too — hoping at least to offset the prejudice which 
 he thought might rest upon him as an American, in view of Presi- 
 dent Johnson's attitude toward the Emperor's Mexican adventure. 
 Seeking to make sure of the right judges was a routine part of the 
 preparation for such contests and not a practice of any one con- 
 testant. However, no judge, friendly or otherwise, could have 
 altered the difference in time between the first and second ma- 
 chines when on July 27 reapers were tried in tangled wheat. Mr. 
 McCormick's took less than half the time required by Wood's to 
 finish the course. Three days later it won easily in oats on the Em- 
 peror's farm at Vincennes, and purchase of the winning machine 
 on the field by M. Tisserand capped the climax. 
 
 Then came Mr. McCormick's hour of special triumph. The Em- 
 peror invited him to exhibit the reaper in his presence on the royal 
 farm at Chalons-sur-Marne. Naturally he accepted and enjoyed 
 (in his own words) "the honor of a pleasant interview with his 
 majesty on the fields for % of an hour." After carefully examining 
 the mechanical construction and practical working of the machine 
 in cutting a heavy crop of oats, the Emperor expressed his appreci- 
 ation, thanked the inventor, and ordered more machines for use on 
 his various farms. Moreover, Mr. McCormick received a clear in- 
 timation that he would be made a Chevalier of the Legion of 
 Honor and be accorded the highest honors of the exhibition. No 
 wonder that just after the thrilling event he telegraphed to his wife 
 in Paris, "All goes well," and presently sent back to the home 
 press an exuberant cable of extravagant length. 
 
 With such honors in prospect, there was nothing to do but wait 
 when it became known that the ceremonies would not take place 
 before the first of the year. So much for Mrs. McCormick's belief 
 that she would not be long away from her children. 
 
Q2 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 Meantime she received reassuring messages about them. Ermina 
 Merick, who spent some time at Oswego, and Mary Fowler, who 
 visited them, both reported. The Wrights did too — Mr. and Mrs. 
 Wright and their eighteen-year-old daughter Alice — and the nurse, 
 Jane. With the aid of these letters it must have been easy for the 
 mother to visualize her active trio. "Cyrus and Mary have each 
 a little bed for flowers. Mr. Wright has bought a spade and wheel- 
 barrow for Cyrus which is just the thing for him. Every evening 
 each of the children take their little glass and go out to get some 
 fresh milk right from the cow. Mary says she drinks six glasses 
 and it is so good. I am sure they will grow and be very healthy 
 here. . . . The baby is just as good as possible. . . . She has a 
 little high chair and sits with Jane at the table. . . . Baby has two 
 teeth nearly through. Yesterday when Jane was walking with her 
 she met several cows. Nettie [the baby's unofficial name] says 
 'Bow-wow' very loud and raising her hands with so much delight 
 that the children could but laugh." Another letter pictured baby 
 as "just as round and plump as can be, her little fat legs can hardly 
 support her, but she manages to push a chair around considerably, 
 and I think she will be walking when you see her again." 
 
 That time was not to come for several months, after the awaited 
 honors and awards had been conferred. By an imperial decree, on 
 January 4, 1868, Mr. McCormick received the rank of Chevalier 
 in the Order of the Legion of Honor, as "the inventor of the reap- 
 ing machine." The little red rosette, symbol of this honor, was to 
 appear faithfully in his buttonhole ever after. 
 
 On the following day the ceremonies of award were held in the 
 Tuileries. At half past one with due pomp the various commission- 
 ers and members of the international jury were ushered into the 
 Salle des Marechaux, where along both sides the objets d'art in- 
 tended for exhibitors in agriculture and horticulture awaited dis- 
 tribution. Presently, with still more ceremony, the Emperor 
 entered, accompanied by the Prince Imperial, a lad of eleven, hon- 
 orary president of the Exposition. These two were preceded by 
 high officers of the crown and other officials and followed by all 
 the ministers. 
 
 When all were ranged in place, the Emperor read a brief address 
 and then awarded the medals, first to the winners of the eleven 
 Grand Prizes. "Three of the eleven were awarded to the Emperors 
 
SOJOURN IN NEW YORK 93 
 
 of Russia, Austria, and France for benefits conferred upon agricul- 
 ture, amelioration of the condition of laborers, &c." Mr. McCor- 
 mick's medal and the prize of 10,000 francs were conferred upon 
 him as a "benefactor of mankind" and as a "skillful mechanician." 
 Though his rival Walter A. Wood also received a grand prize, it 
 was as "constructor of agricultural machines," a description which 
 did not heavily cloud Mr. McCormick's satisfaction in having been 
 acclaimed by France as "the inventor of the reaper." 
 
 Because Mrs. McCormick was ill, she and Mr. McCormick had 
 to be presented separately at Court. On January 8 she saw her hus- 
 band off to the Grand Ball, pronouncing him very handsome 
 in his court costume, which was decked with gold lace, gilt but- 
 tons, a dress sword. He escorted three women friends, one of whom 
 was presented with him. "The ball was a grand affair," wrote the 
 absent wife. "The Empress & Emperor passed before the Ladies & 
 Gentlemen whom the different foreign ministers wished to present 
 to their Majesties. . . . Then all repaired to the ball rooms, where 
 the Emperor & Empress sat in chairs of state upon a raised dais 
 called 'The Throne/ while the ball went on. The first officers of 
 the Government and the Army led the ball. The glitter of dia- 
 monds, the flash of uniforms, the light of bright eyes, the tones of 
 music seraphic, all combined to give pleasure to every sense." 
 
 When on January 22 Mrs. McCormick finally made her own 
 deep bow, the experience apparently lacked thrill. "Well, the ball 
 is over," she wrote. "The presentation to their Majesties the Em- 
 peror & Empress was simple. About 25 Americans of whom I 
 was one, & some English & Turks stood in a line around the salon 
 while the Minister Dix (Gen'l) presented. I was disappointed — it 
 was hot & crowded — a great pain came to my breast." 
 
 The bad effects of Mrs. McCormick's illness were heightened 
 by her yearning to be with her children and the disappointment of 
 repeated postponements. Eventually, however, all was done and 
 some time in March the family reached New York. With their 
 three children, all greatly grown, restored to them, they were 
 again in their Fifth Avenue home. 
 
 Here in 1870 a third daughter came to the McCormick house- 
 hold — a winsome baby with wide-open blue eyes, whom they 
 named Alice. But her stay was only eight months long. "I hear 
 this morning," Mrs. Sullivan wrote, "your little angel was but a 
 
94 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 loan from the Heavenly Father, & that with wings unspotted by 
 her short sojourn here, she has flown from the arms of her Mother 
 to the Bosom of her Saviour." Separated from the other children, 
 a few months later, Mrs. McCormick wrote to them: "I see dear 
 little children on the street sometimes just the age dear Alice would 
 have been, and I observe their cunning ways with a sad interest." 
 
 Though the McCormicks had been happy to leave hotel for 
 home life, the Fifth Avenue Hotel remained their resource — for 
 important parties, such as a grand dinner for Junius S. Morgan, 
 and as their home when transition was made from house to 
 vacation place and back again. 
 
 It was in the last year of the sixties that the McCormicks first 
 chose Richfield Springs as a vacation resort and found there the 
 most satisfactory of watering places. They went again in 1870 and 
 1 87 1, and in the latter year Mr. McCormick bought six acres of 
 undeveloped land on a hill at the edge of the village, looking to- 
 ward building there a country home. He was to build later but, 
 because of the interruption caused by the Chicago Fire, not until 
 the early eighties. In intervening years, however, the family spent 
 parts of several seasons in the village, and Mr. McCormick de- 
 veloped the property with great zest. 
 
 The strong sulphur water was the special inducement. Baths in 
 these waters had been recommended to Mr. McCormick as a cure 
 for his eczema and rheumatism, and apparently he found them 
 more efficacious than the other springs he visited. The place had 
 additional charms. Set in beautiful hill and lake country on the 
 great Western Turnpike connecting Albany and Buffalo, the little 
 town was a delightful resort. In a shady part at its center stood the 
 Spring House and baths — "a terrible smelling bath-house with high 
 narrow iron tubs," as Harold McCormick remembered it — while 
 across the street another large hotel shared the fashionable patron- 
 age of the place. The powerful odor of sulphur water made itself 
 known near the park, and Indian legends about this astonishing 
 liquid heightened the interest. 
 
 That first year the railroad was still fifteen miles away, and the 
 journey was made by means of a stage coach — "a grand affair 
 drawn by four horses," as young Cyrus accurately recalled it, 
 "having great leather springs forward and backward so that the 
 coach literally swung on the springs. . . . When this coach would 
 
SOJOURN IN NEW YORK 95 
 
 arrive at the Spring House with the cracking of whips it was a 
 daily sensation." 
 
 For their first season the McCormicks rented rooms in a house a 
 few doors from the Spring House, where no doubt they boarded. 
 In other seasons before their home was built they sometimes stayed 
 at the Spring House, but Mrs. McCormick deplored the effect of 
 hotel life on the children and didn't care much for it herself — 
 "same people, same inane dancing at night, same inane company 
 on piazzas." 
 
 Often they lived in a rented house, particularly the Bryan house, 
 a commodious red brick facing a lovely line of the hills. Under the 
 creeping myrtle of its grounds Cyrus and Mary buried a pet kitten 
 killed by falling down the stair well from the third story. Here 
 Mr. McCormick played croquet with his children and played it so 
 well that they had to become expert too. And thence the children 
 went boating on the lake below the village, or the whole family 
 shared in the driving in smart turnouts that was the fashionable 
 feature of the afternoon — an informal parade of victorias, landaus, 
 phaetons that started at the Spring House and swept around the 
 near-by lake or on to Cooperstown and larger Lake Otsego. 
 
diapfer 8 
 
 CITIZENS OF 
 
 THE NEW CHICAGO 
 
 V>/CTOBER 8, 1 87 1— a day never to be forgotten! 
 
 Mr. McCormick had been in Chicago on business for more than 
 a month. Mrs. McCormick, with the three children, was on the 
 point of returning to New York from Richfield Springs, lingering 
 there to enjoy the wine of that autumn air, the glorious autumn 
 pageant — "the beautiful landscape stretched out before our eyes — 
 the hills on each side of us, and the village below, all arrayed in 
 gorgeous crimson and gold." 
 
 Into that paradise came crashing the dreadful news of the Chi- 
 cago Fire. From the recollections of Cyrus the second, who was 
 twelve in 1871, and from a very few written sources the story 
 emerges, though not without uncertainties. But that the word of 
 calamity came to the family in Richfield Springs by way of the 
 village telegrapher is clear. The story is that Mrs. McCormick un- 
 dertook to send her husband a telegram and that the telegrapher, 
 either in person or through the excited young Cyrus, rushed back 
 the news that no message could be received in Chicago, the city 
 was burning. 
 
 Whether the message Mrs. McCormick tried to send was her 
 reply to her husband's request for her to come or some earlier 
 thought of hers is not clear. But his word to her, found among her 
 papers after long years, was: "All well be quiet could you all come 
 here answer." 
 
 At any rate, Mrs. McCormick hastily rearranged her plans and 
 started for Chicago not later, it appears, than Tuesday October 
 tenth. She entrusted the two little girls to relatives in Detroit, tak- 
 ing Cyrus on with her into the wrecked city. 
 
 The train was stopped on the South Side, and they were met by 
 
 96 
 
CITIZENS OF THE NEW CHICAGO 97 
 
 a representative of Mr. McCormick with a carriage to convey them 
 to St. Caroline's Court Hotel on the West Side. Whatever their 
 route, they probably drove close enough to the burned area to 
 see desolation— smoking debris, charred skeletons of buildings, 
 towering piles of burning wheat and of coal, stifling smoke and 
 dust everywhere— and already men picking their way among the 
 ruins on their way to rebuild Chicago. 
 
 When they met Mr. McCormick, weary and haggard, in a partly 
 burned coat, he received them (his wife wrote later) "with a spirit 
 unbroken and a courage unspent." No doubt he told them of the 
 long hours of Chicago's terror through which he had lived: of 
 the outbreak of the fire in the O'Learys' barn in DeKoven Street; 
 of its mad sweep on the wings of a southwest gale through a sec- 
 tion of the West Side, its many frame buildings tinder-dry in a 
 terrible drought; leaping the river, as no one believed it could do; 
 roaring on in great sheets of flame across the business district, 
 where substantial marble and brick buildings went down with 
 flimsy veneer and wood; again leaping the river to consume the 
 North Side and drive thousands suffocating to the lake margin 
 and beyond. 
 
 Of Mr. McCormick's own experience almost no account re- 
 mains, only a few brief references and a few words of his wife. 
 Years later she told how, driven from his hotel by the oncoming 
 flames, he hurried to the home of his brother Leander, urged the 
 family out, and then became a "fugitive to the West Side." By this 
 time the factory, nearer the river, must have gone. Of just where 
 and how he spent the rest of that terrible day and all the time until 
 the fire stopped its ferocious attacks there is no record. 
 
 As Cyrus Junior recalled the events, the family passed the first 
 night after Mrs. McCormick's arrival on mattresses spread on the 
 floor in that West Side hotel, because all the rooms were filled. He 
 remembered standing in line at the Third Presbyterian Church, a 
 few blocks away, to ask for bread and blankets. By this time the 
 resources of the unburned West Side had been supplemented by 
 provisions from all over the country, rolling in by trainloads. Many 
 of rich and poor alike were on relief. But shortly Mrs. McCor- 
 mick was one of those who plunged into organizing aid for the 
 destitute, listening to applications for clothes and bedding, and 
 cooperating in the distribution of supplies. Before long the Chi- 
 
98 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 cago Relief and Aid Society was coordinating all the separate ef- 
 forts. 
 
 The McCormicks were again residents of Chicago. Returning to 
 it in its darkest hour, they stayed, sharing the faith in Chicago's 
 future which turned the calamity into a blessing. Like so many 
 others, they resolved to rebuild. 
 
 On October 12 a temporary factory office was set up at 71 
 Ashland Avenue. That same day a circular went out to the farmers 
 who were in debt to the company, announcing that "we intend 
 to put everything in operation again as fast as Men and Money 
 can do it." There is a strong, clear family tradition that it was Mrs. 
 McCormick who promptly said the decisive word as to rebuilding. 
 Assuming that she reached Chicago no later than the morning of 
 the 1 2 th, there was time for Mr. McCormick to consult her before 
 deciding. He supported the tradition by implication in the draft of 
 an address written in 1873 by saying that his wife was with him 
 two days after he telegraphed for her, when he "at once deter- 
 mined to proceed with rebuilding." According to the story handed 
 down, Mr. and Mrs. McCormick drove together to the smoking 
 ruins, where others of the company were gathered. The question 
 was asked, "Shall we start the small engine for repairs or the big 
 engine for manufacturing?" Mrs. McCormick answered by giving 
 the order direct to start the big engine, then appealed to her hus- 
 band, "Mr. McCormick, isn't that correct?" and won his confirma- 
 tion. 
 
 The work of salvage and rebuilding began with great vigor. 
 Records were found intact in an iron vault. Some machinery was 
 secured, piece by piece; a temporary two-story building to accom- 
 modate both office and works was rushed up on the ruins of the 
 former factory as fast as materials could be secured, and early in 
 1872 the business of manufacturing reapers was under way. Mrs. 
 McCormick visited the office — "a comfortable large room — built 
 of rather rough boards whitewashed or painted — warmed by two 
 stoves. The plain unpainted pine desks were arranged in order and 
 the different office clerks all busily at work — as if there had been 
 no great fire to exile them all for 4 mos." She rejoiced in "the 
 cheerful buzz of the machine shop" on the ground floor. 
 
 But the question of rebuilding — a real factory on another site — 
 was not yet settled. And on Mrs. McCormick's vigorous and telling 
 
CITIZENS OF THE NEW CHICAGO 99 
 
 part in the final decisions that brought into being the large factory 
 on Blue Island Avenue there is clear contemporaneous evidence in 
 one of her journals. But there is no mention of the various motives 
 involved. In the family tradition, Mr. McCormick had reflected 
 that they had enough to live on and it might be well for him to re- 
 tire, but his wife had felt strongly that the welfare of her children, 
 especially of her son, would be best served by having a family busi- 
 ness as background and incentive. 
 
 An account written by Emma Dryer for Cyrus H. McCormick 
 in 192 1 names still other considerations. Miss Dryer, a religious 
 worker at the time of the Fire associated with Dwight L. Moody's 
 work, was close to Mrs. McCormick and no doubt was recording 
 memories of Mrs. McCormick's reminiscences. "The question was 
 before them," she wrote, "whether to return to New York or to 
 remain in Chicago. She said they prayed and fully discussed the 
 subject. One morning as he [Mr. McCormick] went away, he said, 
 'Nettie, I have come to my conclusion. You will outlive me, & have 
 the children to care for. You must decide it.' 
 
 "She said she considered the Providential leadings. . . . Their 
 Church relations were pleasant here, and your father's plans for 
 his long hoped for Theological Seminary were here. ... So she 
 told your father when he came home; and they moved to Fulton 
 Str. . . ." 
 
 Long before the Fire steps had been taken toward moving the 
 factory to a new site. The buildings on the river had been too small 
 since the mid-sixties and investment in more land there was too 
 costly to contemplate. Expansion of manufacturing into the prairie 
 side of Chicago was under way. For some time the McCormicks 
 had been negotiating for land on the south branch of the river. 
 Now, after the Fire, negotiations began again. The desired site was 
 the property of Samuel J. Walker in Canalport, about six miles 
 from the city's center. There were many difficulties before the 
 deal was closed, and Mrs. McCormick shared in many meetings 
 involving the McCormick brothers, Mr. Walker, and Mr. Jewett, 
 the McCormicks' lawyer. 
 
 On June 26, 1872 she wrote: "This PM I took Mr. Chapman & 
 Mary & Anna with Anita down to the much talked of property on 
 the River for which negotiations have so long been pending — 8 
 months — I think — for the proposed new Reaper works. I saw 
 
IOO NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 the land for the first time — But was well acquainted with it from 
 frequent consultation with its locality on the map. It is about 2 
 miles from Madison St. on a branch of the South Branch of Chi- 
 cago River and at present planted with cabbages. 'What a loss of 
 labor & cabbages/ I said to Mr. Chapman, 'if we should go on 
 building there in July — which I most fervently hope we will do.' 
 To this point I have turned my best arguments — and used my 
 strongest powers of persuasion for many months — and to the ac- 
 complishment of this end I have uniformly urged my husband to 
 close the tedious negotiations with Walker by purchasing the prop- 
 erty and getting the undertaking of building started." 
 
 Two days later she describes the situation that made closing the 
 difficult Walker deal so urgent: "Situation in our Reaper business 
 today is that our works, built upon the ruins, are now being pushed 
 to their utmost to turn out Reapers & mowers — working day & 
 night — and that we are shipping 60 daily — that agents from all 
 points south, west, & north are asking for larger supplies of ma- 
 chines than can be granted them. Harvest never so promising — 
 demand for machines never so great. We could sell twice as 
 many as we have or can supply. Harvest now progressing in Ten- 
 nessee & Ky." 
 
 Her entry on June 29 shows her powerful influence in her hus- 
 band's business as no other testimony could do: "I constantly urge 
 Mr. McC. to miss no opportunity to go forward with the new 
 factory this year — not to wait until next year to make the deci- 
 sion whether to build or not — make it now — decide now to have 
 the factory ready for turning out Reapers for the next harvest 
 — build this summer & be ready for work in the jail. I have faith 
 that this could be done — that the building could be ready to receive 
 machinery by November if we go at it immediately . . . . This I 
 have urged upon my husband for months. I believe he will do it. 
 He has told me lately that I have been 'urging him on with whip & 
 spur,' and that he 'makes the decision now to go on with the trade 
 principally under my influence* — to use his own words." 
 
 When, presently, the transaction was completed, the troubles 
 were not at an end. The place was remote and transportation facil- 
 ities for materials and men were not well developed. Mr. Walker's 
 contract called for the provision of a shuttle line connecting with 
 the railroad and a deepening of the water course, and Mr. Walker 
 
CITIZENS OF THE NEW CHICAGO IOI 
 
 did not at once make good on these points. When at last the build- 
 ings were under way, there were other difficulties, including an 
 epidemic of influenza among horses — a first-class catastrophe in 
 that day with which the McCormicks dealt by importing oxen! 
 After the four buildings were up, the problems of getting mechan- 
 ics and office force to the remote spot at seven o'clock in the morn- 
 ing had to be handled. The hampering mud of the prairie, the dis- 
 tance from the farthest bus line were dealt with by the erection of 
 a boarding house and forty cottages. And on February i, 1873, 
 steam was turned on, the new factory was open, and Chicago had 
 made another thrust westward. 
 
 But we are getting ahead of the personal side of the story. Not 
 content to live long in a hotel, especially one that was rather dismal 
 in spite of marble and art glass splendors, Mrs. McCormick soon 
 began to hunt a furnished house. The only residence owned by her 
 husband at the time of the Fire that they had any thought of oc- 
 cupying, was the attractive Burch house on Michigan Avenue near 
 Madison Street. It had burned, with part of the furnishings from 
 the Dearborn Street house which had been placed there. So had 
 the rest of those furnishings, variously stored. Nearly all of the 
 houses owned by the McCormick brothers had gone too. The 
 North Side, flattened and blackened, had nothing to offer. The 
 South Side did not appeal. So the McCormicks found a home on 
 the West Side — and a West Side church home, too, the Third Pres- 
 byterian. For Mr. McCormick could not tolerate the preaching of 
 Professor David Swing at Fourth Presbyterian Church (the name 
 under which North Church and Westminster had united) . 
 
 The furnished house that Mrs. McCormick chose was on a cor- 
 ner of Fulton and Sheldon Streets, and to this the family removed 
 at the end of April, 1872. It was a large frame house unhappily not 
 far from the tracks of the Chicago and North Western Railway. 
 What with the persistent dust in the city from the clearing away 
 of debris and the smoke and cinders from the railway, life at Shel- 
 don Street was a battle with dirt. But the house was set in spacious 
 grounds. 
 
 Upon this scene entered, on May 5, 1872, the third son of Cyrus 
 Hall and Nettie Fowler McCormick— Harold Fowler. Not that 
 he was named Harold at once, however. Arthur was considered 
 and Eldridge was at least suggested, and his mother leaned so 
 
102 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 strongly to Theodore that for a time the baby was thus called. 
 But the name Harold held, selected after scanning lists of names. 
 Fowler, of course, was for his mother's family. The child, a lovely 
 baby, was sound and well, the mother likewise and extremely busy. 
 "Ah, what a busy woman you are and will ever be I expect," 
 wrote Mrs. Sullivan. "I had apprehended Mr. McCormick's absence 
 would throw a burden upon your shoulders, yet I know you take 
 great pleasure in the knowledge that you are really a helpmeet to 
 him." 
 
 Helpmeet was indeed the key word of her relation to her hus- 
 band's busy life. All of his interests were quite unaffectedly "our" 
 interests, in their correspondence and in their shared activities. 
 These were, first in order of time, building; not only the factory, 
 but his real estate investments. After the Fire, Mrs. McCormick 
 took the lead in overseeing the erection of several buildings, in- 
 cluding the McCormick and Reaper blocks, as well as stores and 
 residences. "With all this responsibility on our hands," she wrote, 
 referring to the problem of the factory, "we have to meet the 
 difficulties connected with vast building undertakings. We have 
 building going on simultaneously at seven different points amount- 
 ing to several hundred thousand dollars. . . . The stone for the 
 McCormick Building does not seem to have been decided upon — 
 none of it cut & all work stopped in consequence — and Mr. Mc- 
 Cormick gone to Baltimore. What is to be done?" 
 
 Mr. McCormick had gone to the Democratic National Con- 
 vention at Baltimore, which adopted the Liberal Republican plat- 
 form and its candidate, Horace Greeley, in whose campaign Mr. 
 McCormick was to take active part. From Baltimore he went to 
 New York to help notify Greeley, thence to Richfield Springs for 
 a needed water cure. Incidentally, he himself just missed being 
 elevated at the convention from national committeeman to chair- 
 man of the national committee. 
 
 Though Mr. McCormick kept in touch with all his varied con- 
 cerns, it fell to his wife to carry out his wishes, adding much initia- 
 tive of her own. Working with the well-known architect John M. 
 Van Osdel and with the McCormicks' own agents, she checked 
 building material, pushing its delivery, consulting with stonecut- 
 ters, herself studying Amherst, Elyria, Columbia stone to find a 
 
CITIZENS OF THE NEW CHICAGO 103 
 
 kind free from iron as her husband desired. Combining as she did 
 architectural taste, sound business judgment, shrewdness, and an 
 endless capacity for detail, she was well fitted to supervise this 
 work. 
 
 No wonder she wrote after a crowded day: ''Tonight I am so 
 tired — children's lessons to see to for the tutor tomorrow — Baby 
 to nurse — buildings to look after — architects to see — some letters 
 to write. Well after all this is done the flesh is indeed weary." 
 
 The first months of 1873 saw the beginning of a new interest, 
 primarily Mr. McCormick's perhaps, but for long years his wife's. 
 It was a publishing venture: the Ulterior, destined to become one of 
 the most widely known of denominational magazines, with an edi- 
 tor of outstanding personality. Mr. McCormick had bought stock 
 in the Western Presbyterian Publishing Company when a plan was 
 formed to revive the gasping Northwestern Presbyterian as the 
 Interior. He was, however, much disappointed in the paper. It ap- 
 peared to him to be New School and radical, whereas he was Old 
 School and conservative. The plant — all but its debts — went in the 
 Fire, and afterward Mr. McCormick's friends urged him persist- 
 ently to buy it as an instrument for promoting the Seminary and 
 the causes of reunion of Presbyterians North and South. Finally 
 he yielded. 
 
 At that moment, early in 1873, Dr. Francis L. Patton, destined 
 for years of prominence at Princeton, was editor and William C. 
 Gray, who after the Fire had left an Ohio connection to try to 
 save the publication, was business manager. When long afterward 
 Mr. Gray told the story of his early difficulties, Mrs. McCormick 
 appeared in the role of at least assistant angel. In that difficult time, 
 he had found the going hard, and failure loomed. He was advised 
 to call on Mrs. McCormick in her husband's absence. A maid ad- 
 mitted him, ushered him into the drawing room, and presently a 
 young lady appeared. "I beg pardon," Dr. Gray said, "I desired to 
 see Mrs. McCormick." The young lady said she was Mrs. McCor- 
 mick, asked his mission, and listened attentively. At the conclusion 
 of his talk she assured him that Mr. McCormick already knew of 
 his work and that it would not be allowed to fail. Presently by 
 investing $15,000 in the paper, Mr. McCormick became its sole 
 owner. By mid-January 1873 it began to appear with "Cyrus H. 
 
104 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 McCormick, Publisher" on the masthead — weekly, in enormous 
 pages of fine type, without emphasis or variety, strange to modern 
 eyes. 
 
 The relation developed happily in two ways: Under Mr. Gray's 
 management and before long his editing, the Interior became that 
 rara avis, a religious journal that was self-supporting. Publisher 
 and editor saw eye to eye on many subjects and easily agreed on 
 a program: No party politics, impartiality as to Old and New 
 Schools, promotion of the interests of the Seminary, and reunion 
 of the Northern and Southern Presbyterian churches. Shortly be- 
 fore Mr. McCormick's death, Dr. Gray bought a half interest in 
 the paper with the understanding that the inventor's name should 
 always appear on the masthead. Mrs. McCormick took a hand 
 from time to time in editing the Interior, even before Mr. McCor- 
 mick's death. She asked her son Cyrus to send descriptive letters 
 from abroad, which she would "have published in the Interior" 
 and occasionally extended a similar invitation to others. Once she 
 wrote a charming letter of apology to Dr. Gray for having in his 
 absence overruled his assistant by including in the paper a sermon 
 delivered at the General Assembly. But her long relation to the 
 paper includes no instance of interference beyond a reasonable 
 point. 
 
 Many others came to that Sheldon Street house with religious 
 interests to promote. The full stream of college presidents and 
 missionaries had not yet started. But there were men from the 
 Union Theological Seminary in Virginia, Southern as well as Chi- 
 cago clergymen, and always men from the faculty of the Presby- 
 terian Theological Seminary of the North- West. 
 
 Mr. McCormick and his dearest philanthropy were on better 
 terms now. But there had been a long period of strain. While the 
 McCormicks were still abroad the Seminary had moved into a 
 home of its own. Even before Mr. McCormick had offered 
 endowment twenty-five acres had been given to it on a sparsely 
 settled section of the North Side. With much effort some fifteen 
 thousand dollars had been collected, and by February 1864 the 
 Seminary had moved into its Central Hall — later called Ewing. 
 It was a three-story brick building — ivas? It still is, serving use- 
 fully after ninety years. 
 
 But the sixties were troubled years for the Seminary, with the 
 
CITIZENS OF THE NEW CHICAGO 1 05 
 
 troubles of the times. Here as well as elsewhere, the issues of the 
 war and slavery made high tensions. Mr. McCormick was unalter- 
 ably opposed to the intrusion of this "political" issue into his be- 
 loved church. A majority of the Board of Directors had agreed. 
 But in the middle sixties — after the war yet in a time of great emo- 
 tional strain — the control of the Seminary had gradually changed. 
 The "Radicals" — extremists in anti-slavery sentiments — had gained 
 power. Mr. McCormick was eager to have Dr. Rice, who had re- 
 signed in 1 861 to take a New York pastorate, return to his former 
 chair in the Seminary. With that in mind he attended the General 
 Assembly of 1866. Dr. Rice was put in nomination but not elected, 
 and the paper Mr. McCormick prepared to set forth his views did 
 not reach the floor. Mrs. McCormick wrote to him sympatheti- 
 cally while he was there: "I feel so sorry for you my dear husband, 
 who have done so much, & struggled so long almost alone, against 
 the fanatical tide, & given your money freely for the dissemination 
 of moderate opinion, to see it all going to the support of your 
 enemies, & your efforts almost abortive." 
 
 Mr. McCormick accepted as the occupant of the chair called by 
 his name a man who belonged to the "Radicals" — accepted him in 
 preference to a worse evil. The professor died within the year and 
 the worse evil threatened. A movement to transfer to Mr. McCor- 
 mick's chair Dr. Willis G. Lord, outspoken abolitionist, brought 
 on a bitter struggle. The transfer was actually made; Dr. Lord 
 against Mr. McCormick's strong opposition was put in the chair 
 endowed by and named for Mr. McCormick. And when a man of 
 the same way of thinking was put in Dr. Lord's place and Mr. 
 McCormick was asked to pay the fourth instalment of his prom- 
 ised endowment, he refused. A rapid-fire, vitriolic correspond- 
 ence followed. Though the issue in a sense turned on the abstract 
 question of whether the donor of money to an institution has a 
 right to dictate its policies, this was submerged emotionally in the 
 sharp concrete issue of North-South sympathies. Well, the emo- 
 tion and the period passed. In 1870 Dr. Lord resigned to accept 
 another post, and a promising young man, an able conservative, 
 came to take his place. This was Dr. Patton, already referred to, 
 whom the Seminary was to lose within a few years to Princeton. 
 He came in 187 1, the year of the great Fire. 
 
 Though that devastation, sweeping close to the Seminary, left 
 
106 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 its building unscathed — an escape that Mr. McCormick as well as 
 others regarded as providential — the Fire was nevertheless a seri- 
 ous setback. And hard on the heels of the Fire came the panic of 
 1873. To be sure, on the very day of the Fire by a curious chance 
 Mr. McCormick wrote a $45,000 check for the endowment of his 
 chair, thus giving nearly twice the amount of the instalment from 
 which, the year before, the Assembly had formally released him. 
 And in 1875 a second building — the chapel — was erected, Mr. 
 McCormick aiding with a contribution. Yet the way was difficult, 
 disheartening. In 1880 a somewhat desperate action was taken: the 
 faculty was asked to resign, their resignations to take effect a 
 year later. It was a painful chapter. All resigned. But Dr. LeRoy J. 
 Halsey, a member of the first faculty, was presently appointed 
 professor emeritus with a lessened program. 
 
 Reorganization proceeded slowly. But by 1883 four new pro- 
 fessors were installed, all from pastorates: Thomas H. Skinner, 
 Willis G. Craig, David C. Marquis, and Herrick Johnson, who 
 continued as pastor of Fourth Presbyterian Church in Chicago. 
 For this new faculty Mr. McCormick provided, in large part, four 
 new residences — four dignified, commodious houses of pressed 
 brick and stone. Dr. Skinner took an immediate interest in the 
 campus, which when he came was weedy and overgrown, en- 
 closed by a dilapidated rail fence. He had it put in order, supplying 
 the funds from his own pocketbook, which happened to be fatter 
 than most clerical purses, and in addition took the initiative in 
 equipping the buildings with water and gas. About this time, too, 
 the neighborhood was greatly changed by a change in the invest- 
 ment of endowment funds. Instead of putting these funds into 
 securities, the Seminary cautiously used them in the erection of 
 houses for rent near the Seminary. In the course of a few years an 
 unattractive neighborhood consisting of a few casual houses and 
 many cabbage patches had been transformed into rows of neat red 
 brick houses. 
 
 Still another interest that was brought to the hospitable door 
 of the Sheldon Street House, welcomed by both Mr. and Mrs. 
 McCormick, was the work centering about that "square block of 
 sanctity," Dwight L. Moody. 
 
 In the sixties, from New York, Mr. McCormick had shared in 
 the building of Chicago's first Young Men's Christian Association 
 
CITIZENS OF THE NEW CHICAGO IO7 
 
 building on Mr. Moody's plea. It had burned. To the succeeding 
 building, which went in the great Fire of 1871, Mr. McCormick 
 contributed and later continued to stand by Mr. Moody "in his 
 great undertakings." In the "Bible Work" that Mr. Moody started 
 in 1873 the McCormicks took a deep interest. 
 
 About to go to England on a preaching mission, Mr. Moody had 
 entrusted leadership in the new undertaking to Emma Dryer — a 
 former normal school teacher, now the teacher of a large Bible 
 class in Mr. Moody's church. It was to Mrs. McCormick that 
 Emma Dryer introduced the new work. On her first visit to 62 
 North Sheldon Street Mrs. McCormick took a heart-warming in- 
 terest in the plans for cottage prayer meetings, Sunday schools, 
 visiting the sick and prisoners, and other ministry. She promised 
 aid and from that time on Miss Dryer's work, and Miss Dryer, 
 were on Mrs. McCormick's heart. 
 
 Meantime, throughout the years Mr. Moody was a welcome 
 guest. There were long talks in Mr. McCormick's study, and the 
 household was enthusiastically aware of this buoyant, vital person- 
 ality as Mr. Moody came and went. Mr. Moody and Mr. McCor- 
 mick, in Mrs. McCormick's opinion, had points of similarity and 
 were always good friends. She had vivid memories, too, of the 
 great Chicago meetings of the winter of 1876-77, in a tabernacle 
 erected for the purpose on Monroe Street between Franklin and 
 Market. "Mr. McCormick was much interested in the services," 
 she wrote, "and wished his family to attend them, and to that end 
 he would direct, the night before, that the breakfast should be 
 served at 7 o'clock, so that all might get to the meeting by 8, 
 and it was a pleasant incident in the family life that the breakfast 
 was served by gas light. Then with his wife and three elder chil- 
 dren in the carriage, he would start before it was fully light. He 
 would find seats near the platform, where he could enjoy every 
 word of the earnest and moving service of song and praise and 
 sermon. A vast concourse of people assembled at these meetings. 
 Sometimes Mr. McCormick would send his carriage to bring Mr. 
 Moody home. There was a very strong sympathy between these 
 two men of indomitable will, and whenever they were in the same 
 city, they were sure to meet, and there was always strong feeling 
 of mutual respect and admiration. They liked each other, and 
 understood each other well" 
 
108 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 Among Mrs. McCormick's own interests in this period was one 
 that was to figure large throughout her life — so large that it must 
 have a bit of space for its beginnings. This was the Woman's Pres- 
 byterian Board of Missions of the Northwest. 
 
 Several vain efforts had been made to form Chicago women into 
 an auxiliary to Eastern women's foreign missionary societies. But 
 when the suggestion came, from an official of the American Board 
 of Commissioners of Foreign Missions, which included Congrega- 
 tionalists and New School Presbyterians, that these women or- 
 ganize an independent society for the West, the response was 
 unanimous. Perhaps it was the independent spirit of the new city, 
 the new region, that spoke. At any rate, on October 27, 1868 
 fourteen Presbyterian and fourteen Congregational women formed 
 "The Woman's Board of Missions of the Interior." For two years 
 they worked together happily. Then the Old School and the New 
 School divisions of the Presbyterian Church reunited and many 
 changes followed. 
 
 At a meeting held in May 1870 at the usual place, the parlors of 
 the Second Presbyterian Church, the Presbyterian women an- 
 nounced their withdrawal to form a separate board. There were 
 tears at the ending of a harmonious work fellowship, but there 
 were also understanding and sympathy. In the end it was the Con- 
 gregational women who withdrew, leaving the familiar meeting 
 place to the Presbyterians. In the same rooms on December 17 of 
 that year the Woman's Presbyterian Board of Missions of the 
 Northwest was organized, and in the same year Philadelphia and 
 New York Presbyterian women organized similarly. 
 
 At the time of the Fire this little Chicago organization of 
 women was not a year old. When the flames died down, its accus- 
 tomed meeting place was ashy ruin. So were the homes of many 
 of its members and the business places of many members' hus- 
 bands. As for its "particular object" — "to send the gospel to 
 women and children in heathen and foreign lands," a less devoted 
 group might have dismissed this as, at the moment, fantastic. Not 
 so this Board. Undaunted, they made their Friday morning way, 
 some of them over debris, to homes of officers fortunate enough 
 to have homes, and carried on their work. 
 
 This Board of the Northwest encountered the same obstacles 
 that beset other early phases of women's work for women. Auxil- 
 
CITIZENS OF THE NEW CHICAGO IO9 
 
 iaries could not be organized without the leaders' actually speaking 
 in public, and to the more conservative Presbyterian ministers this 
 was unrighteous. Mrs. William Blair, telling of "The Beginnings," 
 recalls that Mrs. Rhea, the Board's first Field Secretary, was be- 
 sought by a clergyman cousin at least "never to speak before a 
 mixed audience." But the Northwest Board pioneers apparently 
 steered their course skilfully. Their policy was, "many small gifts, 
 from self-denial, that we might never decrease our husbands' con- 
 tributions to the church, and — very small expenses." The two first 
 secretaries, Mrs. G. H. Laflin and Mrs. Blair, sent out hundreds of 
 hand-copied circulars, and the work began steadily to grow. 
 
 It was this organization that Mrs. McCormick entered, early and 
 with zeal. Whether or not she was a charter member, joining in 
 1870 as an absent Chicagoan, is not known, but she was the second 
 treasurer, serving thus one year and thereafter for thirty-four years 
 as vice-president and as honorary vice-president until the women's 
 boards were united with the General Assembly's Board of Foreign 
 Missions of the Presbyterian Church, U.S.A. Though she was 
 never an active suffragist, this connection in that day shows her 
 by no means conservative in regard to woman's place in the world. 
 She would always have held warmly that woman's place was in 
 the home, but she would have held too that a capable woman 
 might have several other places as well. At least so her own prac- 
 tice proclaimed. 
 
 The treasurer's books, it is supposed, were kept by her own 
 hand. This was the way these women did things — and for that 
 matter there wasn't much else they could do in pre-secretary and 
 pre-typewriter days. In the report for 1872-73 the treasurer's well- 
 arranged presentation shows that during the year the Board had 
 taken in, from auxiliaries in eleven states, $9,323.58, and had on 
 hand a balance of seven cents. 
 
 After the post-Fire period of meeting in parlors, some of the 
 Board husbands told the women that if they expected their work 
 to be permanent, they should have a headquarters and a paid 
 worker or two. The women accepted the advice, and fortunately 
 one of the Board husbands — Cyrus Hall McCormick — provided 
 two rooms. The first meeting was held in headquarters on August 
 29, 1873, and until his death in 1884 Mr. McCormick gave the 
 Board its rooms rent free. 
 
110 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 They were in the McCormick Block at Dearborn and Randolph 
 Streets, and as it happened the entrance was labeled No. 48. For 
 twenty-seven years the Board remained in its first home, which 
 became widely known as Room 48 — not only headquarters for 
 this Board but also a place for ministers' meetings and other reli- 
 gious business. When in 1 900 it left the McCormick Block, which 
 had passed into other hands, it took its room name with it. At 
 three different addresses before the Board was merged with the 
 other five women's boards of the Presbyterian Church, it had 
 painted its number on the door regardless of floor sequences. 
 
 "Room 48" was also for years the heading of a page in the 
 Interior, given to the Board without charge by Mr. McCormick, 
 no doubt on the strength of his wife's interest. 
 
 The work of the Board steadily grew in grace and in power. 
 And no wonder, since from the first its leaders were among the 
 finest women of Chicago — women of social standing and distinc- 
 tion and of personal initiative. Chicagoans with historical memo- 
 ries will recall some of the names — the first president, Mrs. R. W. 
 Patterson, the beautiful wife of the pastor of Second Presbyterian 
 Church; Mrs. A. H. Hoge, able, devoted president from 1872 to 
 1885; her daughter, Mrs. Henry Forsyth, who herself became presi- 
 dent later; Mrs. John V. Farwell, first treasurer — like Mrs. McCor- 
 mick, the wife of a successful Chicago business man; Mrs. Albert 
 Keep, wise, active, keen; Mrs. William Blair, gracious, distin- 
 guished; and many others. 
 
 To these, the Friday morning meetings were a high point of the 
 week. A story is told of a woman visitor to Chicago who, hearing 
 in some church service the announcement of a meeting at Room 
 48, neglected to note the address. But on Friday she took a car to- 
 ward the Loop, asking the conductor if he knew where Room 48 
 was. "No ma'am," he answered, "I don't; but I notice that every 
 Friday morning a lot of ladies get off my car at Wabash Avenue 
 and Randolph and walk west, so I guess if you follow them you'll 
 find it." She did. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick was among those who went regularly, at least 
 in the early years. Then and thereafter her home was open to any 
 of the more than seven hundred missionaries who were sent out, 
 and her gifts to and through the Board were on a steadily rising 
 scale. 
 
CITIZENS OF THE NEW CHICAGO III 
 
 Despite all the pressure of their interests the McCormicks took 
 occasional periods of recreation. They returned to Avon Springs 
 in 1873, but while Mrs. McCormick and the children stayed there, 
 Mr. McCormick, always in search of more helpful waters, tried 
 Massena Springs too. 
 
 It was just after this that Mrs. McCormick and the children had 
 the joy of spending more than two weeks in the house at 40 Fifth 
 Avenue. "Our great pleasure at entering our beautiful home," she 
 wrote to her husband in Chicago, "I can scarcely describe to you. 
 The gas light lent a pleasing effect to the elegance of the apart- 
 ments and we roved from room to room, filled with delight. . . . 
 We sit at our dining table and seem in a palace with our lofty ceil- 
 ings & frescoes &c." Then suddenly, the house had to be prepared 
 for a tenant and they moved to the Everett House. But Mrs. 
 McCormick wrote to her husband: "It required a real effort to get 
 to the point of giving up our beautiful home, filled with every lux- 
 ury that one can desire, but I know we are needed in Chicago. 
 Nothing but duty could move me from what is really a home for 
 us and the children, the only one we have — but then you cannot 
 be here & we will not be separated." 
 
 This nostalgic interval was unexpectedly prolonged for about 
 twelve weeks. With much dentistry for the children (she was de- 
 voted to their New York dentist), the care of baby Harold, enter- 
 taining relatives, working in the storerooms at 40 Fifth Avenue, 
 arranging disposal of her husband's old clothes and buying needed 
 new things including shirts and stocks for Mr. McCormick — she 
 was busy and clearly told her suffering husband so. As the stay 
 lengthened, she even put the children in school or under tutors — 
 a detail that alarmed Mr. McCormick. Though he did not demand 
 her return and sympathized with her in her cares, he pointed out 
 what could be done in Chicago. She wrote him the reassuring word 
 that she was as anxious to come as he was to have her. 
 
 The next year the McCormicks spent some time at a health 
 resort of a different type. Mr. McCormick had been ill. For his 
 convalescence he went to Waukesha, Wisconsin, while Mrs. McCor- 
 mick, to recover from the strain of attending on him, took the chil- 
 dren to Bedford Springs, Pennsylvania. Thence they moved 
 to "Our Home on the Hillside," or Dr. James C. Jackson's Health 
 
112 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 Resort at Dansville, New York. There after a time the two 
 Cyruses were persuaded to join the others. 
 
 It was a strange place, "Our Home on the Hillside," set among 
 the hills of the Finger Lakes region of New York. Mrs. McCor- 
 mick described it fully in a letter to Cyrus in September of 1874: 
 
 "I have had it in my wishes for many months to have my family 
 adopt the methods of living that are practical in Hygienic Institu- 
 tions. . . . 
 
 "I find here a place where every arrangement is made from a 
 health point of view. You retire between eight and nine, rise at six, 
 have such a bath as the doctor directs or none if he thinks best, 
 walk, breakfast at eight, prayers in the parlor (not compulsory). 
 At eleven you have whatever treatment is in your prescription, 
 rest until two, write or do what you choose, at three dinner, after 
 which ride, walk, read, do what you choose. 
 
 "The meals are novel. Everything is placed on the table before 
 the doors are open, for breakfast graham porridge, oatmeal por- 
 ridge, baked or stewed fruits, such as apples, prunes, berries, all 
 most carefully cooked, a kind of graham bread called gems, 
 ground rusk. No meat is on the table but you can have it if you 
 ask, also you can have tea and coffee. 
 
 "For dinner an abundance of vegetables, beans, peas, tomatoes, 
 potatoes, graham pudding, rusk, fruits of the season, and meat if 
 you want. This is the last meal of the day. No salt in anything, or 
 pepper. 
 
 "Dr. Jackson, a man of sixty years of age, is the great moving 
 spirit of the place. He lectures in the chapel. He moves around 
 among the inmates, encourages, advises, visits them, is on the field 
 of action at 5 o'clock, eats only one meal a day and that is break- 
 fast. He preached a beautiful sermon yesterday, Sunday, on the 
 power of the Holy Spirit. 
 
 "The patients He upon little cots all over the grounds in the 
 shade of the trees. . . . Many wear a wet turban on the head. 
 . . . Mary enters heartily into the methods here, and feels she is 
 so much better without any food after the mid-day meal. We all 
 feel so. Will you not try it? . . . Harold is happy on this hillside, 
 walking and swinging in the hammock. " 
 
 When Mr. McCormick arrived, the provision that the guests 
 
CITIZENS OF THE NEW CHICAGO II3 
 
 might have meat if they wished, came into use. He scorned the 
 vegetarian diet, and the baskets that carried meals to the McCor- 
 micks' cottage contained his usual quota of meat. Evidently the 
 family approved this regime, for a few years later they repeated 
 their visit. 
 
THE NORTH SIDE 
 —HOME 
 
 F 
 
 HE McCormicks' residence on the West Side in Chicago had 
 been only an interlude, inspired by the Fire. Mr. McCormick had 
 owned a lot on Rush Street on the near North Side since the fifties 
 and held steadily to his favorable opinion of this section, despite 
 the marble fronts and other signs of popularity of the South Side. 
 Now that Chicago had rebuilt, with typical speed and energy, the 
 family was ready to build a home on that lot. In the spring of 1875 
 they moved from Sheldon Street to one of the new houses that 
 had sprung up on Superior Street, just off Pine Street (now 
 North Michigan Avenue), conveniently near to the scene of com- 
 ing building activities. A little to the north rose the Water Tower, 
 survivor of the Fire. On the east the Lake pressed far closer than in 
 later years. Less than a block to the west stood the new building 
 of the Fourth Presbyterian Church, to which the McCormicks 
 were presently to return. The house was a high basement brick, 
 with the stairs rising straight from the entrance, parlor and sitting 
 room on the right, a basement dining room. For the first time since 
 her return to Chicago, Mrs. McCormick was, in her own words, 
 to "commence housekeeping." She sent to New York for some of 
 her possessions, but in the main the house had to be furnished. 
 
 The family was complete now. At Sheldon Street, the fall 
 before, another son had been born — the second of the "little boys," 
 as for years their mother called Harold and Stanley. The five 
 children were in an interesting variety of stages — Cyrus nearly 
 sixteen, Mary Virginia fourteen, Anita nine, Harold three, and the 
 baby a few months old. Mrs. McCormick's occupation as a mother 
 of young children was at about maximum point, and perhaps it is 
 time to stop and ask what kind of mother she was. That she was a 
 
 114 
 
THE NORTH SIDE HOME 115 
 
 loving and devoted mother and considered the care of her chil- 
 dren's health, education — mental, moral, spiritual — and their hap- 
 piness a chief part of her life work is abundantly clear. But her 
 problems as a mother of young children were greatly complicated 
 by her status as her husband's right-hand helper. Not that the fa- 
 ther was ever other than fond and devoted; but manlike he could 
 more readily entrust them to others when business pressed. 
 
 Always loving, solicitous, adoring, the truth is that as an unoffi- 
 cial assistant, almost partner, in her husband's extensive affairs, 
 Mrs. McCormick had less than enough time to be a continuously 
 personally attentive mother; but she made every effort to surround 
 her children with the best influences and to keep in close touch 
 with them. An interesting indication that she succeeded is the fact 
 that one of her sons, looking back down the years, had no memory 
 of the frequent absences that his mother's correspondence plainly 
 shows. 
 
 In their early years, all of the children were under the care of 
 tutors and governesses. But their mother made a point of knowing 
 the details of their books and studies. Nurses, governesses, tutors 
 were carefully chosen. And some of these choices were very for- 
 tunate. In particular the whole family gained through the employ- 
 ment of Harriot M. Hammond, sister of Mrs. McCormick's great 
 friend Mary Mildred Sullivan. A teacher, a woman of high culture 
 and of rare personal qualities, refined perhaps by her own continu- 
 ous physical suffering, Miss Hammond was an ideal guide for 
 the two little boys, a substitute mother ever and again for them and 
 for both daughters. 
 
 In accordance with the practice of their day, Mr. and Mrs. 
 McCormick brought up their children, especially the two elder 
 ones, rather strictly. Obedience was exacted. There were a good 
 many prohibitions. Sunday, if not exactly blue, was certainly a 
 serious day. This was no particular hardship, however, for the 
 children looked upon church and Sunday school as part of the pat- 
 tern of life. All the standard virtues were inculcated and youthful 
 misbehavior won the standard punishment. Harold believed that 
 he held the family record on slipper spankings at his mother's hand. 
 Modern views of discipline did not arrive in time to benefit him. 
 
 Often, flitting from one occupation to another, Mrs. McCor- 
 mick would gather a child into her arms for a short period of read- 
 
Il6 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 ing aloud — the book only too often, according to Harold, being 
 the Bible. 
 
 After the early period of tutors and governesses, all of the 
 children were sent to private schools, with occasional tutoring in- 
 tervals; but only the elder daughter was away from home at 
 boarding school for any considerable time. She and Cyrus were 
 the only ones who ever went to public school and Mary's attend- 
 ance was brief. Cyrus attended the Brown grammar school in 
 Chicago, and in 1874 entered the Central High School — then the 
 only full-course high school in the city. From the Superior Street 
 house Cyrus and Mary walked daily the more than two miles that 
 lay between it and the school on Monroe Street near Halsted. 
 
 Separated from his mother at the beginning of his second high 
 school year, Cyrus wrote in detail about his studies — a heavily 
 classical course — and his standing, which was high. His mother 
 wished to see it even higher and he ended as valedictorian of his 
 class. He had pointed comments to make on the school system in 
 that second year. For instance: "Would you believe it! The Chi- 
 cago Board of Education passed a resolution a few days ago pro- 
 hibiting the reading of the Bible and the Lord's Prayer in the 
 Public & High Schools. I never heard of such a thing. We don't 
 read the Bible or repeat the Prayer in school now. All we do is 
 sing two or 3 songs." However, he was enthusiastic over the scho- 
 lastic training that the high school gave him. His letters of that 
 period reflect a quaint combination of school and household cares, 
 for his mother had delegated to him the task of overseeing the can- 
 ning of fruit for the winter. 
 
 That summer of 1875 Mrs. McCormick accompanied her hus- 
 band on her second Southern trip. Searching as always for healing 
 springs, Mr. McCormick had tried Hot Springs, Arkansas early in 
 the season; in the company of his niece, Amanda Shields, and his 
 daughter Mary Virginia. Though Mary found this "lawless place" 
 pretty unsatisfactory, Mr. AdcCormick was apparently content 
 with parboiling himself industriously, playing croquet, and chat- 
 ting with his friend Joseph Medill. 
 
 Later the family visited the famous mountain resort at Hot 
 Springs, Virginia. Here young Cyrus left them to return to Chi- 
 cago for school, but the others crossed the mountains to White 
 Sulphur Springs, West Virginia. In this old summer capital of the 
 
THE NORTH SIDE HOME I 1 7 
 
 South, a place of white pillars and gracious charm, Mr. McCor- 
 mick took the baths and played his favorite game, croquet; while 
 Mrs. McCormick among other activities joined a group that Gen- 
 eral Robert D. Lilley conducted to the top of Kate's Mountain. 
 From this resort the family (all but Cyrus) traveled to that spot 
 where Ermina Merick and Nettie McCormick had rested in the 
 first summer of Nettie's marriage — Rockbridge Alum Springs. 
 
 Here in 1875 as in 1858 Mrs. McCormick was an out-of -season 
 guest. "The gay people have all flown," she wrote to Cyrus — 
 "The invalids have left for the same reason that they came — for 
 their health — the music has departed from these sylvan groves as 
 well as from the music stand. The light has faded from the sky as 
 well as from these cottage doors and porches; in short, the gloom 
 of an autumnal rain storm is hovering over us, and it seems unwise 
 to remain here. I wish to leave today." She couldn't though, for 
 "Papa wishes to get a contract . . . studied out here in retire- 
 
 ment." 
 
 After nearly two weeks of Alum Springs came a shorter visit 
 to Lexington, where "the former friends of your papa have evinced 
 a lively regard for their old neighbor, and have flocked to see 
 him . . ." The visitors included professors at the two institutions 
 that share a plateau campus there — Washington and Lee Uni- 
 versity, at which only a few days before Mr. McCormick had 
 endowed a chair, and Virginia Military Institute. General George 
 Washington Custis Lee, who had succeeded his revered father, 
 General Robert E. Lee, as president of the college, was among the 
 callers. So was Judge John W. Brockenbrough, for many years 
 rector of the Board of Trustees of the University. General Francis 
 Henney Smith, head of the Virginia Military Institute, conducted 
 them over class rooms and barracks, where Mrs. McCormick — 
 always observant and destined to equip many a boy's lodgings — 
 noted the exact contents of each room. "I thought it coarse and 
 hard," she commented to Cyrus, "but the happy look of the boys 
 contradicted the thought." 
 
 There was thrilling reminiscence, too. ". . . While driving out 
 of the village past the different farms your papa exclaimed, 'There 
 is the very field where the first public exhibition of my reaping 
 machine took place.' Lo! What a mighty fruitage that effort has 
 borne; and how that low sound has filled the whole earth." 
 
Il8 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 Whether in New York, Chicago, or Europe in the remaining 
 years of the seventies, through all the McCormicks' affairs ran the 
 absorbing care of building and furnishing their home. When Mrs. 
 McCormick corresponded with an architect early in 1874 she said 
 that thus far she had been "the principal mover in the project." 
 What she was thinking of then was a two-story house with base- 
 ment and mansard roof, to cost preferably not more than $65,000 
 or $75,000. The house that the family entered late in 1879 had 
 three stories, with basement and mansard roof and tower, and had 
 cost about $175,000. Mrs. McCormick's eager plan to "commence 
 next month" and to have a house by the end of a year was halted 
 by Mr. McCormick's "pressure of business." 
 
 By the fall of 1876, however, the work was under way with 
 Cudell and Blumenthal, Chicago architects, in charge. Lake 
 Superior red sandstone was chosen as the material, plans were dis- 
 cussed, re-discussed, finally agreed upon for a house in the style 
 of the late Renaissance. Foundations began to be sunk, walls to 
 rise. For decisions on all the endless details from sewer pipes and 
 air ducts to Oriental rugs, antique tapestries, books, and paintings, 
 the responsibility was shared. Husband and wife pored together 
 over plans, joined in interviewing architects, builders, decorators, 
 experts of various other kinds, and when separated corresponded 
 in great detail about their findings. Concerning these and other 
 matters Mr. McCormick exclaimed in comment on a letter of hers, 
 "Are our troubles about these things not severe!" It was Mr. 
 McCormick who worked over the inside design, redoing it to 
 secure larger spacing. He was responsible, too, for the broad 
 stairway, figuring out relation of tread and riser with exact mathe- 
 matical precision to give greater ease than the plan provided. He 
 achieved a stairway that swept up with a magnificent disregard 
 of space consumed — a stairway of unusual beauty. 
 
 To Mrs. McCormick fell the heavier end of responsibility for 
 overseeing the work — a task for which she was eminently fitted 
 in force of character, tact, an almost appalling thoroughness, and 
 her characteristic zest for detail. Every once in a while there is a 
 casual disclosure of her decisive force in the negotiations. "It was 
 a tough struggle," she wrote to Cyrus Junior, "to get papa to relin- 
 quish Pottier & Stimus but he has done it — and has come to Herter 
 
THE NORTH SIDE — HOME II9 
 
 just as I believed — and to the advantage of our house in workman- 
 ship, price & taste? 
 
 When the absorbing question was interior decoration and fur- 
 nishings, the McCormicks spent long periods in New York in con- 
 sultations. Eventually decision fell on a variety of woodwork in 
 the different rooms — mahogany, rosewood, satinwood, ebonized 
 wood inlaid with tin, and a corresponding range of furniture, 
 hangings, wall coverings. But much time was to pass before the 
 house became home. 
 
 Meantime, in the years preceding completion of the house there 
 was an urgent problem to be solved for Cyrus Junior — solved by 
 his mother. 
 
 Naturally young Cyrus wished to go to college and his mother 
 was enthusiastically for the project — possibly its originator. As 
 early as 1873 she corresponded with an officer of the College of 
 New Jersey — at Princeton — about the best age to enter. The 
 choice was an obvious one, for this school was an outstanding 
 Presbyterian institution and its president, Dr. James W. McCosh, 
 only a few years from Scotland, was an outstanding Presbyterian 
 whom the McCormicks knew — a tall, handsome, broad shouldered 
 "man of granite," a scholar and teacher of high order and of views 
 more liberal than those of some of the McCormicks' favorites. 
 Shortly after Cyrus was graduated from high school in 1877 plans 
 were made, his room was engaged — all seemed clear. But in that 
 summer he showed only too well his fitness for his father's busi- 
 ness. At his mother's suggestion the boy had made his first trip 
 abroad, crossing in the company of eminent ministers, particularly 
 Dr. Francis L. Patton of the Seminary, who were bound for a Pan- 
 Presbyterian gathering in Scotland. His father took the oppor- 
 tunity to entrust him with business errands, including an interview 
 with the elder Morgan — Junius S. — which the youth executed to 
 his parents' great satisfaction. On all sides he won approval. It be- 
 came evident to Mr. McCormick, beyond his highest hopes, that 
 Cyrus could — and therefore should — relieve him of heavy burdens. 
 
 On September 10, the second day before college was to open, 
 Mr. McCormick "brought up all manner of objections to his go- 
 ing, and placed every obstacle in the way." The debate (Mrs. 
 McCormick records) continued the next day with Mr. McCor- 
 
120 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 mick claiming that Cyrus had enough education to do business — 
 more than his father had — that college would "effeminate" him, 
 that "it was not the proper thing for Cyrus to live the ease of 
 college life while he did the work &c." Mrs. McCormick argued in 
 reply that Cyrus would make a far better business man and a more 
 effective citizen if he had a mind disciplined by college study and 
 that the business would not suffer by a further delay in Cyrus's 
 entering it. 
 
 Though her husband had not given in, Mrs. McCormick told 
 Cyrus to have his trunk packed anyhow. It did not move. There 
 was more debate, both sides holding fast. By the 17th Mrs. McCor- 
 mick was "willing to yield the sentiment of diplomas & degrees" 
 but not "the question of more education." Presently the two de- 
 cided that each should write a letter to President McCosh setting 
 forth his or her views. This matter was in hand when "who should 
 come in but Dr. McCosh himself. We read our letters to him 
 mine first whereupon he presented in clear & forcible language the 
 very arguments which I had used. . . ." 
 
 He ended by proposing to take Cyrus to Princeton with him 
 the next day. "All this seemed irresistible to my husband," Mrs. 
 McCormick told her journal, "and what did not seem to him con- 
 clusive in my reasoning he yielded to Dr. McCosh & said, 'Very 
 well — he may go.' " 
 
 The next morning Dr. McCosh came back with a plan for a spe- 
 cial course, and evidently a shortened one, for the young man's 
 mother said, "I was delighted at the prospect, and felt quite ready 
 to yield the question of 4 years." Though she does not say so ex- 
 plicitly it was probably she who first proposed, in harmony with 
 her yielding "the sentiment of diplomas and degrees," a shortened 
 course. This was the recollection in later years of her son Cyrus. 
 
 The outcome was an arrangement whereby Cyrus, well ahead 
 of the entrance requirements, carried a heavy special course and 
 won a special diploma in 1879 which ranked him with that class. 
 His father as well as his mother took pride in the youth's success. 
 
 A trip abroad in 1878, involving the whole family, marked a 
 turning point in Mrs. McCormick's life, bringing a sharp increase 
 in her responsibilities. It was primarily a business trip to exhibit 
 the reaper at the Paris Exhibition of 1878 and to solve troublesome 
 problems in the foreign reaper business. At first Cyrus Junior was 
 
THE NORTH SIDE HOME 121 
 
 scheduled to go alone. But his father sniffed the smoke of battle 
 and felt drawn toward going. 
 
 As he neared decision, he made it known that he desired his 
 wife's company, but wished to leave the younger children at home. 
 Unwilling to accept this arrangement Mrs. McCormick went 
 through a distressing period of uncertainty and struggle. Some of 
 her turmoil is shown in her letters to Cyrus at Princeton. She had 
 shrunk in the first place from sending Cyrus "like a lamb among 
 wolves to that most dangerous and gilded pathway to destruc- 
 tion!" Then, on the question of leaving the younger children: 
 ". . . here is my great trouble — papa wants Anita, Harold and 
 Baby left behind. If I had a mother or a sister to leave them with 
 I would do so — but how could I go off and feel easy in leaving 
 them in a haphazard way in this country. 
 
 "I do ask for light on this difficult subject — and I know I shall 
 be guided in the right way. ... I believe it will end in all going 
 in July — but don't know." 
 
 It did end much as she expected. The family all crossed, but in 
 instalments — young Cyrus first, charged with business instructions; 
 then Mrs. McCormick with all the other children, and finally Mr. 
 McCormick. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick, who was moved to go partly on physicians' 
 orders, went at once to the Continent with her elder daughter, 
 now called Virginia, on a health quest. The children, meantime, 
 with the beloved family friend and teacher, Harriot Hammond, 
 were established at Ramsgate, England, in a house high on chalk 
 cliffs above the sea. 
 
 In spite of concern over the reaper problems and what husband 
 and son were doing about them, Mrs. McCormick appears to have 
 had an enjoyable vacation. Her physician had advised her to 
 change her habits and have "less mental care," and she tried to 
 obey. Swinging around through Switzerland and the Tyrol, she 
 settled for a time at St. Moritz in the Engadine, and wrote to 
 Cyrus about their "air cure": 
 
 "Virginia and I walk on the mountain sides a great deal and on 
 the gentler slopes — no croquet. 
 
 "In fine weather I never experienced such a sensation of light- 
 ness — no trouble to walk for a few miles — so bracing is this cool 
 dry air." 
 
I 2 2 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 At that distance, with that perspective, she had a clear view on 
 the business problems at home and their unfortunate effects on the 
 family's life. She wrote to her husband late in August: 
 
 "I confess I know not what is best for me. Let the physician de- 
 cide that. I am willing to abide by whatever you and he together 
 say should be done. One thing I know, the life we lead at home 
 such as last winter & other winters is not good for either you, or 
 the children's welfare — (not necessarily physical) or my welfare 
 in which I include my physical and mental well being. 
 
 "The habits of business, always, and at all times & in all places, 
 leaves little room for any family life, such as I see it in well regu- 
 lated families; or for good sleeping, or eating in quiet — or with any 
 regularity as to the family having any regard for meeting each 
 other at any regular times around the family board." 
 
 She was referring to the arrangement whereby all the foreign 
 business was carried by Mr. McCormick himself rather than by the 
 firm, his home thus being to that considerable extent his office. 
 This was a rare instance, so far as her correspondence shows, of 
 protest against the intrusion of business into her home province; 
 it was purposeful, and in large part as a result of her persuasions 
 the plan was changed. After their return home the foreign business 
 was a concern of the firm. 
 
 While mother and daughter were enjoying the Swiss mountain 
 air, Cyrus and his father were going about together. Before the fa- 
 ther's arrival the son had exhibited the binder in Holland, though 
 without winning first place, and had got ready for the trials to be 
 held at Bristol by the Royal Agricultural Society. His father ac- 
 companied him there and the two had the joy of seeing the binder 
 win the gold medal. 
 
 Early in August they learned from Paris that it had been "offi- 
 cially announced privately that Father had the Grand Prize — the 
 only one in department of reaping, mowing and binding ma- 
 chines." But it was soon known that the distribution of Exposition 
 prizes was postponed until October 21 — a delay that as Mr. 
 McCormick said "knocked everything into a cocked hat." To- 
 gether they traveled to Paris, visited the Exposition and saw a 
 number of people, and on the advice of Mr. McCormick's physi- 
 cian went on to Aix-la-Chapelle, where the warm sulphur baths 
 and billiards interspersed with work occupied them pleasantly. 
 
THE NORTH SIDE — HOME I 23 
 
 Later the four met in Paris, while the younger children still lin- 
 gered at Ramsgate. 
 
 As the time approached for Cyrus to return to Princeton, his 
 father revived the thought of a dual business and study program 
 for him instead of Princeton. Cyrus raised the alarm in a letter to 
 his mother and in the outcome her arguments again prevailed. The 
 young man though delayed left in time to catch up with his classes. 
 Meantime, his parents settled down to await the great days of late 
 October, bringing over the rest of the family to join them in the 
 Hotel du Jar din across from the Garden of the Tuileries. 
 
 On the evening of October 20 at the residence of the Minister 
 of Agriculture Mr. McCormick, since 1867 a chevalier of the 
 Legion of Honor, received his promotion to the rank of officer. 
 The next day he was part of the brilliant procession that filed into 
 the Palace of Industry for the ceremonies of awarding the Exhibi- 
 tion prizes. But let Mrs. McCormick tell it, as she did to Cyrus 
 Junior: 
 
 "I take a moment in the lull between the grand ceremonies of 
 the morning and the grand fireworks tonight to tell you some- 
 thing about the distribution of prizes at the Palace of Industry at 
 1 2 o'clock today. 
 
 "After a season of some preparation we were all in the building 
 at 1 2 o'clock punctually, papa being honored with an invitation to 
 join the cortege. The vast building was filled to its utmost and the 
 costumes were brilliant — while uniforms and orders of all kinds 
 shone with dazzling splendor. The Prince of Wales & the 
 Marshall led the cortege — and all that music, & the trappings of 
 Royalty & the eclat of an assemblage of genius — of talent in every 
 walk of life — in letters, in arts, in science, and in the industries 
 could lend was present on this occasion. After Addresses by the 
 President Marshall & by the Minister of Agriculture the presidents 
 of the groups and the Commissions of the several countries re- 
 ceived the medals in baskets to hand to the exhibitors. Mr. McC. 
 sent papa his grand Prix — a beautiful gold medal. . . ." ("Mr. 
 McC." was the American Commissioner to the Paris Exposition — 
 himself a McCormick, a distant cousin of the inventor. He was 
 Richard Cunningham McCormick, who at one time in his career 
 had been Territorial Governor of Arizona.) 
 
 Mrs. McCormick and her two daughters, but not her husband, 
 
124 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 attended the grand fete at Versailles that night. "There were 
 25,000 invitations/ ' wrote Mrs. McCormick. "It was a grand col- 
 lection of all the nations of the earth. But the crowd was so great 
 that locomotion was utterly arrested — It became a thing impos- 
 sible. The mass of human beings was something appalling as they 
 attempted to pass through doors from one room to another. 
 Women fainted — & cried. Men were dripping with perspiration 
 & red with exertion. It became a well-dressed mob. A thousand 
 times I was sorry I went." 
 
 Then came calamity. The very next day Mr. McCormick devel- 
 oped a carbuncle on the back of his neck so severe that he had to 
 have it deeply lanced (an experience that he bravely endured with- 
 out an anesthetic). It was a time of severe strain to Mrs. McCor- 
 mick. Her husband was in the care of a physician whom she 
 considered "the best on the Continent" — Dr. C. E. Brown- 
 Sequard; but his life was in danger and though there were nursing 
 attendants, she had much to do with actual care and her strength 
 was diminished by confinement to the hotel suite. 
 
 When the worst was over she was harassed with concern over 
 the interruption in the children's schooling. They were all at 
 rather loose ends. Virginia helped her mother about the invalid 
 and helped him with his work when work became possible. Anita, 
 developing a sense of responsibility for her little brothers, used to 
 take them into the Garden of the Tuileries, and when a dismal 
 Christmas threatened, persuaded her mother to let her shop for the 
 children — a rapturous experience, buying French toys to her 
 heart's content and keeping Santa Claus illusions alive in the little 
 boys. 
 
 Mr. McCormick's nerves, unstrung by pain and distress over his 
 inability to attend to business, made the employment of tutors 
 difficult. Finally, however, Mrs. McCormick was able to provide 
 French tutors for the little boys and a history master at discreet 
 hours for Virginia and Anita. In Anita's interest she made a still 
 more drastic move. Though she was eager to give her daughter 
 French in the best way, she was not willing to turn her over to a 
 French school and she would not even consider subjecting her to 
 the Catholic influence of a convent. She found in Neuilly a 
 French pension school conducted by an Englishwoman, and the 
 girl went there for the first time in a sense on her own. Though 
 
THE NORTH SIDE — HOME I 25 
 
 she felt a shock of aloneness in this alien-speaking place of stran- 
 gers, Anita soon liked it all — the teachers, their dog, long walks in 
 the fields, the big loaf of bread on a table from which slices were 
 cut. Then there were the week-end trips to Paris and the family, 
 in a horse car, presumably in the care of the conductor, and the 
 sense of deliciousness as she stood out on the front platform and 
 traveled through magical Paris. It was a good solution and her 
 mother was content with it. 
 
 Meantime the responsibility for business decisions rested on 
 Mrs. McCormick's shoulders far more heavily than before. In the 
 long, slow weeks of convalescence Mr. McCormick was able, in 
 spite of weakness, to think about his pressing problems, but could 
 not focus his thoughts in decisions. 
 
 Day after day, with only occasional short walks for air even 
 after the invalid was able to be out, they spent in their apartment, 
 consulting with solicitors, poring over correspondence, Mrs. 
 McCormick and Virginia writing endlessly. Resolutely, Mr. 
 McCormick labored over his papers, sitting with a band running 
 from the back of the armchair around his forehead as a support. 
 But it was for his wife to help him to the deciding words. 
 
 The problems were serious — two of them, in particular. One 
 was what the family referred to as the Waite-Burnell case. Mr. 
 McCormick's representative in England, Otis S. Gage, had with- 
 out his consent placed the business of selling in the hands of the 
 firm of Waite, Burnell & Company. Mr. McCormick refused to 
 accept the contract, dismissed Gage, and Waite-Burnell declined 
 to accept the refusal. Gage threatened suit if Mr. McCormick 
 should cross into England. There was a difficult matter of commis- 
 sions to adjust, and Judah P. Benjamin, once member of the Cabi- 
 net in the Confederacy and now a leading lawyer in England, was 
 called in to aid. "It is one of the most intricate quarrels," Mrs. 
 McCormick wrote to her son, explaining those legal complica- 
 tions clearly. 
 
 ". . . Our solicitors," she said, "have insisted that unless we 
 firmly stood to requiring in the new agreement, W. B. & Co. not 
 to pay the improper commission of 30 shillings to Gage, we 
 would certainly have a lawsuit with Gage, and the only way to 
 lift ourselves out of the entanglement with G. was to do it through 
 the contract with W. B. & Co. This is Mr. Benjamin's opinion and 
 
126 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 he has a clear head and the best of judgment, and with the solicitors 
 I have stood firmly and resisted all settlements with W. B. which 
 did not include this point, and I do believe I shall prevail in the 
 end. Papa would have given in to W. B. & Co. and risked the suit 
 had not his solicitors and I kept him back. Mr. Rawlins in our par- 
 lor said, 'Mrs. McC. sees the point and I hope she will insist upon 
 it, for we shall.' " 
 
 All this was tied up with the long-standing difficulties between 
 Cyrus and Leander McCormick. There had been clashes between 
 these two brothers throughout their association in business. Even 
 William, who had died in 1865, had sometimes joined with the 
 younger in objections to their older brother's course. They had 
 felt the weight of his dominance and had on occasions thought 
 they had responsibilities on the one hand and rewards on the other 
 in unfair relation to his. There was trouble whenever a contract 
 under which Cyrus and Leander worked was about to end. 
 
 The co-partnership which had existed between them was due to 
 expire August 1, 1879. And the rumbles of trouble were loud and 
 frequent. At issue was the adjustment of the foreign business, 
 which thus far was the province of Cyrus rather than of the firm. 
 Believing that the foreign sales increased values at home, the elder 
 wished the firm to pay more than the mere cost of production for 
 machines sold abroad; but Leander objected. There was a constant 
 question whether Leander, in charge of manufacturing, would 
 produce in sufficient quantities to match the contracts. 
 
 Stronger than any of this was the pull between the two over the 
 place in the business of the eldest son in each family. Leander was 
 dissatisfied with the small share held by his son Robert Hall. The 
 son was dissatisfied. Cyrus Junior meantime, having finished his 
 college course, was ready to enter the hereditary business fully 
 and his father was determined to give him a responsible place. 
 Moreover, he preferred to have his nephew out altogether. Loyal 
 employees in Chicago faithfully relayed the news of the activities 
 of Leander and son to the McCormicks in Paris, even to the 
 threats of the two that they might establish a factory of their own. 
 The possibility of either side's selling out to the other was agi- 
 tated, but neither v/ould accept the other's offer. 
 
 No wonder that, with all this going on, Mrs. McCormick should 
 
THE NORTH SIDE — HOME I 27 
 
 "feel that our irons are burning in Chicago" and should be eager 
 to get off soon. 
 
 The Burnell matter dragged. The contract was pending, was 
 written but not signed, Gage was making difficulties, one person 
 after another was blocking the wheels. But there were pleasures. 
 As spring advanced Mrs. McCormick wrote: "We are taking more 
 open air. I just take papa out and V. and we walk in the pleasant 
 garden opposite," and again, "I am going to take papa now, and 
 go across the street and walk in that lovely walk — the high ram- 
 part I mean — skirting the east end of the garden of the Tuileries — 
 overlooking the Place de la Concorde. It is so pretty there — not 
 that a leaf is yet to be seen — but it is day there and so quiet — and 
 these two things together with the bright moving panorama before 
 the eyes, the world passing through the Place de la Concorde — 
 makes it very enjoyable. How thankful I am for dry weather — 
 after such a winter of Paris rain." 
 
 Meantime there was another interest, shopping for fine things 
 to decorate the mansion that was then being pushed toward com- 
 pletion in Chicago. They went — father, mother, and now and 
 again the children — to Marcotte, the chosen decorator, to buy car- 
 pets, brocades, furniture, vases, and above all the old tapestries for 
 the dining room which was to be perhaps the chief glory of the 
 house. 
 
 Occasionally after Mr. McCormick's nerves were steady enough 
 to bear their absence, Mrs. McCormick took Virginia on brief 
 flights to see pictures or museums or historic spots or the acting 
 of Sarah Bernhardt, or sent her with other company to concerts 
 and opera and a "superb mass at Notre Dame led by Gounod him- 
 self." 
 
 Early in April, preparations began for the crossing to England 
 and the return home. Urgent, anxious messages kept coming from 
 the Chicago office; only considerations of Mr. McCormick's lack 
 of strength and the long-drawn-out Gage-Burnell matter held 
 them. Finally, late in the month, the threat of suit in England was 
 lifted, and after a stiff effort Mrs. McCormick got her family off 
 and into London. There personal conferences began in which Airs. 
 McCormick was obviously a principal. "Papa is very dependent 
 now on the will of another. He expects and looks for me to make 
 
128 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 the decisions and then execute them. . . . Fie cannot walk well 
 and shows more feebleness in that than in anything else. ... He 
 cannot now be looked to for any independent action. In the next 
 three months important decisions in the business have to be made 
 and I look to you for help." 
 
 As a matter of fact, Mr. McCormick made a far better recovery 
 than these words suggest, but this was the burden that his wife 
 carried during the winter and early spring. 
 
 Finally the contract was signed and in mid-May the McCor- 
 micks embarked for home. At the steamer Mr. McCormick re- 
 ceived notice of an honor which he said touched him more deeply 
 than any previous honor of his life — his unanimous election as a 
 correspondent of the Acadernie des Sciences de I'lnstitut de 
 France in "recognition of the fact that he had done more than any 
 other living man for the cause of agriculture in the world." 
 
 Though Mr. McCormick had regained a measure of health he 
 had come home weakened. He was not again able to carry the full 
 load of his responsibilities and interests. For one thing, he gave up 
 his political cares, though even in the year of his return there was 
 a thought of his running for the national vice presidency — a 
 thought to which his wife was strongly opposed. She wrote to 
 him: 
 
 "My dear husband 
 
 "From Cyrus I learn simply that you start to Cincinnati tonight, 
 and that some people are unwise enough to try to induce you to 
 place yourself prominently at Cincinnati. I regret this, because I 
 feel that you have too good a position as benefactor of your race 
 to risk anything whatever in other fields. 
 
 "I regret that this whisper in your ear has had any influence 
 over you. You know men, and you know they want your money 
 and will give you nothing. You have an enviable position, and I 
 ask you to be content with that." 
 
 The summer and autumn months of 1879 were crowded with 
 business and unsettled as well. In Chicago the affairs of the broth- 
 ers were in negotiation. In New York purchases were to be com- 
 pleted for the new house, and the sale of the Fifth Avenue home 
 was in process. Consequently Mr. and Mrs. McCormick traveled 
 to and from Chicago and New York. 
 
THE NORTH SIDE — HOME I2Q 
 
 For Mrs. McCormick there was a sad personal interruption. In 
 early November Eldridge and Mary Fowler's only son, Melzar, 
 twenty years old, died after a brief illness in a New Jersey school. 
 On getting the word Mrs. McCormick and Cyrus went at once 
 from New York to the stricken parents. Mary Fowler had arrived 
 from her home at Bay City, Michigan only three hours before her 
 son's death; Eldridge, away from home, not until afterward. To 
 both Mrs. McCormick's swift, sympathetic response was a deep 
 comfort. Brother and sister were always as close as the circum- 
 stances of their lives permitted, and Mrs. McCormick had adopted 
 Mary Fowler as a sister. To Eldridge the loss of his son was not 
 only a profound grief but a keen disappointment. For the young 
 man was sharing in his father's business interests, lumber and 
 timberlands, and the father looked forward to the developing 
 association. 
 
 Back in New York, Mrs. McCormick plunged again into her 
 husband's business. Through the wise efforts of a mediator, the 
 trouble between the McCormick brothers was adjusted and a new 
 arrangement was made almost on schedule date. "C.H. and LJ. 
 McCormick" was replaced by a stock company, the McCormick 
 Harvesting Machine Company. Leander and Robert Hall McCor- 
 mick were to own a quarter of the stock, Cyrus McCormick three 
 quarters. 
 
 The elder brother was president, the other vice president and 
 superintendent of the manufacturing department on a five-year 
 contract. Though each of the brothers wished his son to be secre- 
 tary, at the tactful suggestion of young Cyrus a third person was 
 chosen. Cyrus reflected that meantime he could learn more of the 
 business. Hall became assistant superintendent. 
 
 Late in November the great house on Rush Street was near 
 enough to completion to warrant sending the three younger chil- 
 dren home to it from New York. At least they arrived when only 
 one upstairs room was dry enough to sleep in, when masons and 
 plaster and the dust from fitting parquetry floors prevailed. No 
 doubt the children loved it as part of the thrill of belonging in this 
 impressive mansion and gave the place an exhaustive inspection. 
 One of them recalled excitement over the marvel of a telephone 
 in a little closet of its own. The elder daughter remained in a 
 boarding school in New York. But in mid-December Mr. and Mrs. 
 
130 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 McCormick returned — a homecoming that represented the climax 
 of a long effort. Though not all details were finished, the family 
 was established at home. As they had been absent for weeks, one 
 imagines them making a grand tour of the rooms, the master of 
 the new mansion probably in a wheel chair, the children joining 
 the inspecting party. At any rate if they made the rounds, this is 
 what they saw, all fresh from the hands of the decorators: 
 
 The great west doorway, at the top of the stone steps, opened 
 on a large hall of subtly varied proportions, widening almost to 
 reception room width. Rooms opened hospitably on either side 
 through sliding doors. A fireplace, gleaming with brass, closed the 
 far end. The fine stairs mounted to the left. The hall woodwork 
 was oak with frescoed panels, background for bronze statuary. 
 
 All the principal rooms connected — a pleasant provision for easy 
 hospitality. At the left of the hall the reception room opened into 
 the drawing room, the maple and gilt woodwork and furnishings 
 of the first, with its salmon pink hangings embroidered in blue, 
 blending with the satinwood, rosewood, and soft-toned tapestry of 
 the larger room. In these two rooms hung the three Cabanel por- 
 traits — Mr. and Mrs. McCormick, painted in 1867, and Virginia in 
 1878. Cabinets held many European gleanings of glass and porce- 
 lain, of which the most prized was the Sevres vase bestowed on 
 Mr. McCormick at the 1878 Exposition. 
 
 On the other side of the hall were ranged Mr. McCormick's 
 "private room" — his office, fitted carefully for his comfort; the 
 library, housing in a setting of ebony with gleaming tin inlay the 
 luxuriously bound books chosen in New York and London; and 
 the great dining room. Here mahogany formed the background 
 for a wainscoting with decorated frieze on gold ground and for 
 the panels of antique tapestry, while in the ceiling various emblems 
 of Mr. McCormick's career — a reaper, sheaves of grain, the Cross 
 of the Legion of Honor, were blended; and his coat-of-arms ap- 
 peared over the fireplace. A schoolroom and the butler's pantry 
 completed the first floor. 
 
 All the rooms on the second floor connected, cunningly, 
 through a series of bathrooms and closets and dressing rooms. 
 Here, as below, there was a carefully arranged variety in finish and 
 decoration in woods and fabrics. 
 
 The feature of the third floor was the great ballroom in its 
 
THE NORTH SIDE HOME I 3 I 
 
 center, fitted with a well equipped stage — the scene of the musicale 
 that was to be given in May, 1880 in honor of the eldest son's 
 majority, when Chicago society inspected the new mansion from 
 top to bottom. 
 
 Another house was among the special interests of the last years 
 of Mr. McCormick's life — the country house on the land at Rich- 
 field Springs which he had owned since 1871 — owned and cher- 
 ished. For though there had been much question whether after the 
 return to Chicago he would carry out his original intention of 
 building, he never ceased to be ardently interested in the improve- 
 ment of the grounds. He spent much time and money on plantings 
 and particularly on his precious arbor-vitae hedge. He made an 
 orchard flourish on land redeemed from wild growth and gophers. 
 When at last he decided to build — to have the comfort of a home 
 near those springs and in that air — Mrs. McCormick as in the Rush 
 Street house took much responsibility with architects, contractors, 
 plumbers, decorators, and decisions. The house was finished in 1881 
 and the name Clayton Lodge, in honor of its mistress' childhood 
 home, was carved in stone over the main entrance. Approached by 
 a driveway for which young Cyrus hauled rough stones, the house 
 still stands, battered but gallant on the windswept brow of a hill, 
 commanding a beautiful view of hills and lakes through vistas of 
 trees that Mrs. McCormick devotedly tended. 
 
 Mr. McCormick was to enjoy some pleasant days there — sit- 
 ting and reading with his wife on the broad piazza looking out 
 over lake and hills; or playing croquet with his eldest son or his 
 daughters; zestfully superintending the care of those extensive 
 grounds; driving down to the village for a chat with friends or on 
 Sundays to the red brick Presbyterian Church, where in these later 
 years his wheel chair was rolled to the head of the aisle and stood 
 next the family pew; and regularly seeking relief for his ills in the 
 sulphur waters of the springs. It was for the same afflicting rea- 
 sons that he went twice, even in the eighties, to western springs — 
 Eureka Springs, Arkansas in 1882 and Hot Springs, Arkansas the 
 following year. None of his family was with him at Eureka 
 Springs and he found it "unattractive and lonely." At Hot Springs 
 wife, children, nieces joined him at various times in seeking benefit 
 from the water. 
 
 Though neither this nor any other treatment restored his health, 
 
132 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 he did not come by any means to the point of retirement. His work 
 was more difficult for him and he did less of it, entrusting more 
 responsibility to his wife and son, but he carried on. 
 
 His final illness was of no more than two weeks' duration, and 
 after the first sinking on April 30, 1884 he rallied more than once. 
 Only on the nth of May was the illness considered hopeless. On 
 that morning — for the last time perfectly conscious — he took leave 
 of his family. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick and her son Cyrus, in the Memoir that they 
 prepared the following year, told of those moments: "Taking the 
 hand of each of his children, he murmured, 'Dear one,' — then 
 looking at all of them, he said, 'My dear children, my sweet chil- 
 dren.' Finally taking the hand of his wife, he said fervently, 
 'Dearest of all — and dearest to all.' 
 
 "One of those near him said, 'Do you wish anything?' With 
 great eagerness he replied, 'I want nothing now but heaven — 
 heaven before.' " Then, in reply to a suggestion from his wife, 
 while his family knelt beside him, he led the last religious service as 
 the head of his family, commending himself and his dear ones to 
 God. The prayer was followed by a hymn — his favorite hymn, 
 "O Thou, in whose presence my soul takes delight" — in which the 
 dying man joined with clear, strong voice. As the hymn ended he 
 sang again the last line of the second verse, changing "Or alone in 
 the wilderness rove" to "Or alone in the wilderness rest!" 
 
 On the morning of May 1 3 in a still gray, misty dawn he died. 
 
Till 
 
 AT THE HELM 
 
Ckapfer 10 
 HEAD OF THE FAMILY 
 
 M 
 
 RS. McCORMICK was not of those who lock up their 
 grief. Without thrusting it upon others, she apparently found com- 
 fort in speaking of the family's great loss and in reminiscence of 
 her husband's looks and ways. In accordance with the custom of 
 the day, she went into the deepest mourning — heavy crape dresses, 
 crape bonnets with heavy veils. After a time, on the solicitation of 
 a daughter, she laid aside the veils though not the black, and in her 
 later life grays and lavenders mingled with black and white. It was 
 a heavily draped figure, however, that impressed itself on the 
 thought of her little boys. 
 
 It had been a good marriage. If the worldly considerations 
 weighed heavier on Mr. McCormick's side of the scale, formal 
 education and culture were heavier on hers. There were commu- 
 nity of interest, mutual devotion, mutual dependence. The wife 
 made the pattern of her life conform to her husband's to perhaps 
 an unusual degree; and it would be idle to speculate whether she 
 felt, as the passing years filled with many and varied opportunities, 
 that natural interests of hers had gone unsatisfied. Early, there 
 were moments of wistfulness; in a journal entry of 1862 she wrote: 
 
 "Oh why look the eyes wistfully to the paths of science, of 
 literature, of accomplishment — of music — of art — of Society? 
 Heart, knowest thou not that . . . they look so inviting, but fail 
 to satisfy all the wants of the Soul? But thou may est pursue them 
 reasonably & as opportunity offers. . . . The guiding of two pure 
 minds (as yet) should tax thy powers: the making of home delight- 
 ful for the best of earth should be thy first & best joy: and indeed, 
 oh! my Heavenly Father! if I know my own heart, it is! Useful- 
 ness is the great thing in life, after all. To do something for others 
 leaves a sweeter odor than a life of pleasure." 
 
 135 
 
136 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 On the face of it, a small town girl of unusual possibilities mar- 
 ried a man of wealth and position. But she married into more than 
 the normal responsibility of a woman of wealth. She became not 
 only mistress of a great house, but also consultant and adviser in 
 Mr. McCormick's affairs and no doubt a leading influence in the 
 broadening of his philanthropies. 
 
 To be sure there were difficulties. For all his excellences, Mr. 
 McCormick could hardly have been an easy man to live with. His 
 enormous capacity for work, his intense absorption in the reaper 
 business were not conducive to a placid home life. Besides, he was 
 very exacting. His immaculate appearance testified to this so far 
 as he himself and his valets were concerned; and with his own 
 boundless energy on the one hand and the pain and limitation of 
 his later years on the other he was not the essence of patience. 
 There were many clashes between him and his attendants for his 
 wife's tact to soften; and his imperious temperament must have 
 given even her some bad moments. A journal entry in 1866 tells of 
 her tears on one distressing occasion. "It has rained all day and my 
 tears have fallen all day — and how bitter tears they were. How my 
 heart has ached. It all arose from conversation before I got up — at 
 which time I had administered to me sharp rebuke." This year for 
 the first time Mrs. McCormick mentions Mr. McCormick's lying 
 down after dinner to sleep "all the evening" — a practice that be- 
 came a habit. He would often sit up "after his nap . . . until 1 
 o'clock, writing &c." Perhaps this was disheartening to her. At any 
 rate, there is depression in her journals of this period — a depression 
 possibly owing to a dimming of the rosy hue of her romance and 
 certainly deepened by her trying illnesses. 
 
 As for the twenty-six years' difference in their ages, these had 
 less meaning than might have been supposed. Except in the privacy 
 of their room, Mrs. McCormick habitually addressed her husband 
 as "Mr. McCormick" and she deferred to him. But she was of a 
 serious turn and she had taken on with whole heart and mind her 
 husband's large concerns; so that the gap of years was not a gap of 
 interests. 
 
 A pleasant light on the means of keeping the marriage smooth 
 is shed by a bit of Mrs. McCormick's writing on a folded slip of 
 paper pinned together and tucked away. It reads: 
 
HEAD OF THE FAMILY 1 37 
 
 "If either makes an abrupt reply or charge, the other is not to 
 reply in the same strain but to direct the attention calmly to its 
 spirit and effect, & to the real point involved. 
 
 "May 13, 6s 
 
 "G & N." 
 
 Now the partnership was over. And though there was time for 
 grief, there was none for mourning with folded hands in Mrs. Mc- 
 Cormick's widowhood. She entered at once on a complexity of 
 responsibilities that, if not new, at least had taken on new weight 
 and gravity. In the past she had carried responsibility for many 
 aspects of business and benevolences, as well as for her household 
 and family relationships along with her husband and latterly with 
 a shoulder under part of his load. But she was to learn and to feel 
 the different situation of one who was director and head. 
 
 For that was the situation in the following years, though Cyrus 
 her son stood valiantly at her side. Cyrus was a serious, depend- 
 able young man, already well trained by five years' service as his 
 father's secretary and assistant and with a natural interest in the 
 business as his destiny; but he was just twenty-five and more ac- 
 customed to obedience than to initiative. 
 
 On the side of personal life there was the responsibility for four 
 younger children, whose futures were by no means determined — 
 the elder daughter, now twenty-three, gifted and attractive, de- 
 vout, but already in shadowed health; the younger, also gifted, 
 charming, high-spirited, independent of mind and still not eight- 
 een; and the two whom their mother always called the "little 
 boys," twelve and nine and a half. Within the first year after the 
 father's death the shadow had deepened over the elder daughter's 
 mental health, bringing to the mother a tragic care and grief that 
 never lifted. Through the rest of her life she was to devote endless 
 time and effort to the choice of places for her daughter's residence 
 (for the doctors would not permit her to live at home), and to the 
 trial of every available scientific aid. 
 
 On a torn sheet among her papers are these poignant words 
 written in her hand: 
 
 "May 10 '85 
 
 "Within this year what sad things have come into our lives — 
 
138 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 4 'We have lost our head — husband & father We have lost a dear 
 one, a dear, dear one. We have seen a dear one suffer the illness we 
 have tried to avert. 
 
 "We have felt the growing disability to hear the sweet voice of 
 our beloved ones." 
 
 Her mastery over this last affliction — her deafness — was one of 
 the most amazing things in her life. "Ear trouble" began to mani- 
 fest itself in the sixties; between that time and the writing of the 
 touching line just quoted she had consulted leading aurists in the 
 United States and Europe, in vain. Her family began to be aware 
 of her deafness as a serious limitation in the late seventies, when 
 they could no longer penetrate her hearing without aid. At first 
 she relied on a small, cuplike device; later, after trying various 
 instruments, she settled on a long tube that amplified sounds. The 
 modern devices that aid hearing so inconspicuously were not yet 
 available when she first needed help (for that matter they never 
 served her well), and she had to deal with the self-consciousness 
 of being observed. That she did deal with it triumphantly there 
 were hundreds to testify. Though she did not like the tube, she 
 grew into using it so simply that only an occasional shy person 
 felt embarrassment. Even when the trouble had deepened far 
 on the way toward total deafness — with the continuance of dis- 
 tressing sounds in her ears which had been present for years — she 
 threw her tube over all walls. Prayers were made through the 
 tube; causes by the hundred were presented through it; with its 
 aid dinner conversations were directed by the hostess. 
 
 Occasionally, but not often, Mrs. McCormick wrote or spoke 
 wistfully about this trouble ("How precious is the sense of hear- 
 ing"); at other times she pointed out that deafness gave her time to 
 think, or saved her from hearing "mean" things; but for the most 
 part she disregarded it so completely, except for the obviousness 
 of the tube, that one of those closest to her in world causes could 
 say years later "I had forgotten she was deaf." 
 
 The business responsibilities that Mrs. McCormick shouldered 
 with the aid of her son and a little later the sustaining help and 
 advice of her brother, Eldridge Fowler, had become vast in her 
 husband's hands. 
 
 Mr. McCormick left an estate of ten millions. He was the head 
 
HEAD OF THE FAMILY 1 39 
 
 of a business that employed some eighteen hundred men and was 
 manufacturing agricultural implements for a world market. He 
 had, besides, extensive investments in mines, railroads, and other 
 enterprises. Far more to his advantage, he had large real estate 
 holdings, chiefly in Chicago. For the administration of this estate 
 his will appointed his wife and his eldest son executors. The estate 
 was to remain undivided for five years. 
 
 Though the reaper business was prosperous when Mr. McCor- 
 mick left it, this was a period of intense competition. Half a dozen 
 leading reaper manufacturers contended for business, for new in- 
 ventions, for the maintenance of their patents. It was a warfare 
 that grew in intensity until the formation of the International 
 Harvester Company in 1902. Cyrus Junior, like his father, worked 
 in a wide range, going to and fro about lawsuits over patents, su- 
 pervising field tests as he had done before, as well as holding up his 
 end in the office. His mother's relation was first of all to him, then 
 to the heads of the company, and occasionally to competitors. 
 She was the person consulted, whose judgment entered into major 
 decisions, whose word was accepted as authoritative. And never in 
 all the business letters to her has there been observed the faintest 
 inclination to explain mechanical or financial matters with the 
 patient condescension of men talking to the average woman. For 
 she understood — and they knew she understood — the multitu- 
 dinous mechanical details of manufacturing and operating reapers 
 and mowers. 
 
 She had been living with machines for twenty-six years. 
 
 Certainly the men at the works knew that she understood the 
 reaper business. She used to go over there at intervals and with the 
 superintendent's escort visit one department after another, greeting 
 the workers, asking penetrating questions, noticing and understand- 
 ing everything. Sometimes action followed. For instance, she ob- 
 served that hard wood lumber scrap was used in making crates and 
 that it took extra effort to drive nails in this wood. She inquired 
 if there was economy in its use and on finding there was none, took 
 steps to have it discontinued. In later years, the men who had talked 
 with her on these visits treasured their memories. Those were "red 
 letter days," they said. 
 
 It is perhaps a good place to consider, briefly, what manner of 
 woman this was who now took the center of a not inconsiderable 
 
140 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 stage. Rather tall, about five feet seven inches, she was finely pro- 
 portioned and had an extraordinarily supple grace of bearing. Her 
 walk was a sort of floating onward movement. Many an admirer 
 treasures a memory of her, descending the stairway "like a queen," 
 in some long, sweeping gown, to greet formal guests — grand dame 
 from head to foot — or in a more intimate approach welcoming 
 with outstretched hands the waiting representative of a favorite 
 cause. When she entered a room, others were aware that a person- 
 ality had entered. If a single word had to be chosen to describe her 
 manner and bearing, that word would be "gracious." 
 
 She had beauty. Her features were clear-cut, well-balanced. The 
 marble bust of her, made when she was about thirty, preserves the 
 strong, fine outline of the nose, the delicate yet ample modeling of 
 the chin. Her mouth, rather full-lipped in youth, had an unusual 
 look of being tucked in at the corners. Her eyes, of a singular 
 brown with purplish shades, were liquid, luminous. Slightly curling 
 dark brown hair framed her face. The hair was graying a little 
 now and worn in a soft twist on the crown, with a parting on the 
 left side. The white forehead and rosy cheeks of youth were still 
 evident in her soft, well cared-for skin. And over and above all 
 there was a sweet radiance of expression that was beauty in itself. 
 
 Without display of energy, she conveyed an impression of great 
 vitality in the quickness of her movements, her readiness in speech, 
 her eagerness of response. There was a daintiness about her but no 
 look of delicacy or frailness. She was essentially strong. She had 
 a venturesome strain too. Instances were remembered of her climb- 
 ing on buildings at heights which few women would scale; at Olivet 
 Institute and at McCormick Theological Seminary it was to ob- 
 serve the progress of work on a building in which she was deeply 
 interested. At the Seminary the ladder climbing was at night, by 
 the light of a lantern held by a professor. At her own house she 
 often climbed ladders while building was going on and once even 
 walked along the third-floor ledge to enter a room where a re- 
 bellious maid had locked herself in. 
 
 Outstanding mental characteristics were a phenomenal memory, 
 an enormous capacity for detail, a power of penetration to the es- 
 sentials in any situation, a broad grasp. All the movements of her 
 mind as well as her body were swift — that is, those operations of 
 mind concerned with perception and understanding. It was not 
 
HEAD OF THE FAMILY 141 
 
 always so where will was concerned. "She did not possess instant 
 decision of character," wrote Dr. W. C. Gray, editor of the In- 
 terior, "was prone to hesitate, but when she had chosen her course 
 she was firm in a high degree." She did not have a keen sense of 
 time, either. People waited and she herself did things in a split half 
 of the last minute. 
 
 Her mind was well stored, her remarkable memory supporting 
 her taste for the best in classical literature and her keen interest 
 in history and world affairs; so that almost no topic left her at a 
 loss. She had a zest for facts. 
 
 Among the qualities that make up character, kindness of heart 
 and sympathy were determining. She was kind, almost universally. 
 Exceptions were due not to intention but to an inability at the mo- 
 ment to put herself completely in another's place; and they were 
 rare. The whole pattern of her life was woven of acts of kindness 
 and consideration toward all manner of people. Her kindness was 
 not a softness, however. Springing from a deep love of people, it 
 also took account of what was good for them. If admonition was 
 needed, admonition came. Wisdom was mixed with kindness, and 
 a high degree of tact with both. She had an amusing way of sug- 
 gesting a course of action by simply assuming the thing would be 
 done — "I believe you will soon announce your time of coming 
 here," or "I know you love to walk in the woods wearing India 
 rubbers." 
 
 She was by nature a conciliator, but in the words of one who 
 testified to that power in her, "She did not try to dissolve oil in 
 water, nor attempt to smother fire with fat." 
 
 There was in her nature a baffling contradiction between gen- 
 erosity and extreme care in expenditure. That she was generous 
 there can be no question. A multitude of persons, churches, schools, 
 and other organizations were to attest that. But she practiced var- 
 ious small economies unusual in a person of wealth — even some- 
 times having her shoes patched and inexpensive china mended. 
 
 Allied to her practice of economy was the habit of keeping 
 everything, particularly evident in the matter of papers. For she 
 kept not only the obviously valuable, but all manner of written 
 and printed matter that came to the house. She would tear off the 
 almost clear pages of letters, writing the few excess words on the 
 last full page, and keep the paper thus saved for the making of 
 
142 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 memoranda or drafts; or she would jot lists and memoranda on the 
 back of bills, envelopes, other writings. The result is hundreds of 
 miscellaneous scraps of all sizes and kinds. 
 
 She kept papers — and she kept many of them in highly uncon- 
 ventional order. Her son Harold once said: "I remember her room. 
 . . . Papers tucked around everywhere. The most unhomelike, 
 unmotherly, undomestic room. Papers around everywhere — under 
 her pillows, under her mattress. Though she had the most won- 
 derful faculty for finding papers I ever saw." Eventually she sub- 
 mitted to a certain measure of filing after the coming of Mr. Tru- 
 man B. Gorton, who was her devoted secretary for a quarter of a 
 century — well known, that quick-moving little man, to hundreds 
 of visitors as a tactful buffer, a helpful advocate, and the all-round, 
 all-hours protector of Mrs. McCormick's interests. 
 
 Another apparent contradiction in her nature was between her 
 modest self-effacement and a dominating quality; dominating, 
 never domineering. And it was hardly a contradiction, either, since 
 the power in her that dominated was not assertive. But it was 
 power and based on confidence in her own judgments too. When 
 she had decided that a course of action was good for some one in 
 a relation close to her, it was not a simple matter for him to alter 
 that course. 
 
 She was deeply religious by nature, training, and practice. In 
 her parents, her grandmother, her aunt — godly, devout people — 
 belief and emotional experience joined. She was brought up in an 
 atmosphere wherein it was easy to accept the doctrines of the 
 evangelical churches of her day. She did accept and retain them 
 with serene steadiness. 
 
 Not that she cared to discuss matters of creed and belief, how- 
 ever. With most of the religious leaders with whom she was as- 
 sociated, common ground was assumed; there was no room for 
 argument, no need for a statement of opinions. When the young 
 people of her family and relationship developed doubts or adopted 
 other points of view, she appears not to have cared to argue. She 
 even, they sometimes thought, failed to meet an issue squarely — 
 perhaps out of a desire for peace, perhaps on deliberate judgment. 
 Yet if the truth she believed in were attacked, she spoke out. When 
 a Princeton professor whose family was knit into her friendship 
 
HEAD OF THE FAMILY 1 43 
 
 sent her a book of his that appeared to deny the Trinity, she 
 wrote: 
 
 "I know you would not seriously expect me to understand your 
 deep discussions on theological subjects, or detect error in state- 
 ments of doctrine. I really believe I cannot do that. If your theol- 
 ogy contains error, I might feel it but I could not uncover the 
 error or set it forth in a statement. All the theology that I know 
 is of a very plain kind, such as is taught in our Seminary here, and 
 may be briefly summed up to be a faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, 
 and love to God and man." 
 
 Such were her beliefs. She was orthodox and she was conserva- 
 tive; but liberal in her conservatism, not reactionary. Outright 
 1 'liberals' ' found this in her — an ability to keep her mind open to 
 new opinions and to follow proved leadership even along new 
 paths. She had no wish, apparently, to speculate about the unknow- 
 able. Referring once to a preacher who had said that he could not 
 preach on Eternal Punishment, she said: "I presume he justly feels 
 that those subjects are mysteries beyond our ken. I think we can 
 not meddle with them. It is enough to teach the unfathomable love 
 of God and Christ." 
 
 Her practices were in beautiful accord with the loveliest of her 
 convictions. And the reality of her personal religious experience 
 was clear to all who knew her at all intimately. She was a woman 
 of prayer, she believed in prayer, and she prayed. Sometimes she 
 prayed aloud behind closed doors; and in these dark days of the 
 eighties, days of grief for her husband and her afflicted child, there 
 were sorrowful sounds that awed the "little boys" on the outside. 
 
 She had a confident trust in divine providence and divine guid- 
 ance. Once when illness had disturbed the plans of some one near 
 to her she wrote: "We plan — and God steps in with another plan 
 for us — and He is all wise and the most loving friend we have, al- 
 ways helping us." 
 
 She was indeed, as one of her sons was to say years after this 
 period, "a practical worldly angel." And "I know of no one who 
 so combined intellect with a great heart" was John R. Mott's sum- 
 ming up of this woman who aided his work for nearly thirty years. 
 
 That summer after her husband's death she spent in Chicago 
 until late in August, sending all of her family except Cyrus ahead 
 
144 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 of her out of the heat to Richfield Springs. Her own persistence 
 in remaining caused anxiety to friends who understood how tired 
 she was with the cumulative strain of the past few years, her 
 heaped-up responsibilities, and her sorrow. When at last she left, 
 she was to be away from Chicago for nearly seventeen months. 
 
 At Clayton Lodge she found restoring air and daily beauty of 
 scene, overcast by the sadness of recollection. "Dear Cyrus how 
 far away the happy days of last summer seem when the chief fig- 
 ure in greeting my coming was your dear father — and now the 
 emptiness of this place is painful in the extreme!" 
 
 But she certainly did not find leisure. For in addition to the care 
 of her household, her children, her guests, she carried on a con- 
 stant correspondence with Cyrus and with officials of the company. 
 A new warehouse and engine room were under way at the works 
 — in that building process she took detailed interest. A new office 
 building, which was to house the company on a corner of Jackson 
 and Market Streets, was another project with which she concerned 
 herself. After the building was up, she carried on a spirited ex- 
 change by letter and telegram with her son and C. A. Spring, Jr., 
 general superintendent, about minute details of the arrangement of 
 the offices. The office plan was not adopted until she was satisfied. 
 
 These were lesser matters. There were settlements to be made. 
 Most important, hardest on the nerves of mother and son in this 
 first year of their new responsibility, was the climax of the "Gor- 
 don Case." Four years before, James F. and John H. Gordon — 
 brothers — and D. M. Osborne, who held an interest in the Gor- 
 dons' wire-binder patents, had brought suit against the McCormicks 
 for infringement on certain features of their binders, claiming 
 that the McCormicks had not paid the royalty due under a con- 
 tract of 1874. The McCormicks denied the charges and claimed 
 that the $20,000 they had paid for a license under the Gordon pat- 
 ents was secured under false pretenses. But their attorneys could 
 not make the claims and denials stick. There was a long series of 
 conferences, with which Mrs. McCormick kept in close touch 
 from her summer home in Richfield Springs, and at one critical 
 time she went to Utica, New York, for conference with her son 
 Cyrus and others. She was sustained by memories of similar strug- 
 gles in the past. She wrote to Cyrus: 
 
HEAD OF THE FAMILY 1 45 
 
 ". . . I shall esteem the Gordons as having very little sense, if, 
 in these hard times, they see fit to decline so large a sum of money, 
 hoping for the very uncertain, and very distant larger sum they 
 are talking for. As to the boast they make of 'a million dollars of 
 McCormick's money' or half a million, do you remember the 
 Wheelers and Aultmans talked that way for years they talked that 
 way — talked so to Mr. Henry King in Ohio — yet finally they saw, 
 after it had been in the courts a few years, that it was for their 
 interest to settle for $225,000 and did." 
 
 Eventually the Gordons and Osbornes agreed to accept 
 $250,000, and from that point were worked down to $225,000. 
 Mrs. McCormick was not quite happy about her share in the settle- 
 ment, as she confessed to her son: 
 
 "I must tell you . . . that I have been under the conviction 
 during the last few weeks — the somewhat painful conviction — that 
 I might have done a wiser thing at Utica than the thing I did — a 
 more sagacious thing — and that is, knowing as I did that men will 
 generally settle for a much smaller sum than they admit they will 
 settle at. ... I should have stood then and there at 200. . . . This 
 has depressed me when calls for noble effort have come to us. . . . 
 But," she ended on a strong, positive note, "I do accept this as past, 
 and I do turn to the future with stout heart and courage that we 
 shall make it up by being liberated from these fetters of lawsuits 
 to turn our thoughts to the economy of our manufacturing and 
 shipping, and to the extension of our sales — and to be ingenious in 
 our workshops in utilizing men's labor — especially in finding new 
 ground to sell in. I am proud of your part in it." 
 
 Her correspondence does not comment on the manner of the 
 settlement. But of course she knew that to prevent their rivals from 
 using for advertising purposes the check marking their surrender, 
 Cyrus H. McCormick had appeared after banking hours in his 
 opponent's hotel rooms and handed him that $225,000 in small 
 bills. It was a safer age than this, one reflects, or no man would 
 have asked another to accept such risk. 
 
 They all stayed late at Richfield Springs that fall, enjoying the 
 autumn beauty and the pure, tonic air. But before Thanksgiving 
 they were in New York — and the correspondence went on as 
 briskly as ever. Even when, after Christmas, Mrs. McCormick set 
 
146 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 up her family in the Hotel Bellevue, Philadelphia, in order that her 
 elder daughter might be under the care of the famous neurologist, 
 Dr. S. Weir Mitchell, she did not cease to direct and decide. 
 
 It was while Mrs. McCormick was in Philadelphia in the spring 
 of 1885 that the McCormick Harvesting Machine Company suf- 
 fered its first real strike. Labor had been growing bitter and rest- 
 less since the panic of 1873, which had left so many workers job- 
 less. The railway strike of 1877 — for an eight-hour day and a wage 
 increase — had swept upon Chicago from the East, bringing three 
 days of violence. In the following years there was sporadic trouble 
 in various Chicago industries, and the city became somewhat aware 
 of a small group of labor leaders who professed allegiance to the 
 principles of philosophic anarchism. Employers had begun to hire 
 the new order of policemen, Pinkerton detectives, to guard their 
 property. And labor had developed a first-class hatred for them. 
 The Knights of Labor, a huge, rather formless organization, was 
 growing in strength. In short, the problems of a rapidly industrial- 
 izing America were beginning to press. 
 
 The immediate cause of the trouble at the McCormick works 
 was a fifteen per cent cut in the wages of the molders, followed by 
 the company's refusal, in view of depressing business conditions, to 
 cancel it in response to protests. The molders struck and within 
 three weeks a large part of the whole body of employees, per- 
 suaded or intimidated, had joined them. The employers, interest- 
 ingly from today's point of view, had stood firmly against "col- 
 lective bargaining" — and on their right to hire whom they pleased. 
 
 Though Mrs. McCormick had known the molders were out, her 
 first knowledge of the general strike, which occurred on April 
 8, came startlingly through the press. It gave her the news of a 
 clash between Pinkerton guards and the mob wherein a striker was 
 shot and seriously injured. Distressed at not getting much word 
 from home, she was minded to return for a few days. But she was 
 persuaded to stay, and the next day got word that the strike was 
 over. 
 
 Meantime she wrote sympathetically and in fine spirit: "This 
 strike is a sad experience to us all, a new experience to us all. Our 
 men have always felt a kind of loyalty to our interests, and attach- 
 ment to us as employers, but this strike shows a change in their 
 attitude — whether with reason or not. Should be investigated." 
 
HEAD OF THE FAMILY 1 47 
 
 She had "not met a person" who was not asking her about the 
 widely published reports that wages had been cut below the living 
 point. To her it was an "injurious and startling statement," and she 
 wanted to know the facts. But, she felt, "to do justly does not 
 mean to make hasty concessions under compulsion." 
 
 Apparently the telegram announcing the end of the strike came 
 before she finished her letter, and at the same time newspaper dis- 
 patches were saying that the McCormick works had yielded, agree- 
 ing to restore the old wages. "So it seems that it is we who have 
 weakened and not they," Mrs. McCormick wrote. "Concession on 
 both sides, I think, is the right way. ... I want to know just what 
 we have conceded of terms and prices." And the next day she 
 wired, "If reports correct, what you have done prepares the way 
 for repetition same trouble." 
 
 But that was before she had received her son's "long, long, long 
 history" of the strike, which told her the day by day detail as he 
 had recorded it in his journal. In the first place, the Company had 
 employed a group of non-union molders, whom they spirited down 
 to the works on Blue Island Avenue at night by means of their 
 river tug. They kept them there in hastily built quarters. But trans- 
 portation of others who were willing to work was more difficult. 
 Pinkerton men were employed to protect them in the buses in 
 which they were conveyed from the North Side and severe clashes 
 followed. A Pinkerton driver was beaten, and on an occasion 
 when the Pinkerton men fired presumedly into the air, they hit a 
 striker and wounded him seriously. This was the item that had so 
 alarmed Mrs. McCormick. The papers, which were not generally 
 sympathetic, headlined this as a murder though the text showed 
 that the man was living. As a matter of fact he recovered. 
 
 Mayor Harrison was appealed to for protection, so was the 
 Chief of Police; they admitted that both public sympathy and 
 police sympathy were running with the strikers, advised against 
 use of the hated Pinkertons, and gave comparatively little help. 
 The Mayor did send a committee to the office, but as it included 
 two of the leaders — trouble-makers, in Cyrus's view — this was in- 
 effective. 
 
 Finally Mr. Philip D. Armour had a friendly talk with Cyrus 
 in which he too said that public sympathy was on the side of the 
 strikers and to some extent rightly so; pointed out that Cyrus must 
 
I48 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 inevitably be held responsible since nothing like this had happened 
 in his father's time, and advised him to end it. That same day the 
 strikers and the bosses met, and in response to an appeal to Cyrus 
 for advice the office granted the increase demanded, refusing at 
 the same time to dismiss two foremen whose overbearing ways 
 were a large part of the grievance. The strike was over. "The 
 sense of relief in having the strike at an end is refreshing even 
 though the strikers have the best of the bargain," Cyrus frankly 
 told his diary. 
 
 Shortly after, writing to her daughter Virginia about the strike, 
 Mrs. McCormick said: "All this might have been averted by pru- 
 dence when the strike was in its infancy. ... It begun while 
 Cyrus was here [Philadelphia]. If he had known all the facts on 
 reaching home he could have dealt with it, but it soon got beyond 
 his power to deal with it. 
 
 "Cyrus did nobly, — wisely, when he begun to take hold of it. 
 
 "It ended by our conceding the terms demanded. If the wages 
 had not been reduced twice — . . . what a sore heart I have 
 carried these days, — but I am so proud of the way Cyrus has stood 
 up to these things — these gigantic troubles." 
 
 Financially the strike was not a loss to the company. It was char- 
 acteristic that fairly soon after the strike ended Mrs. McCormick 
 sent to her son a detailed questionnaire as to the costs of stopping 
 the works, of spoiling iron, of bad work under stress, the cost of 
 the burned bus, the surgeon's bill, and so on. Cyrus did not get 
 around to giving her the replies until July, when he filled in the 
 very sheet she had sent him and added details of the savings in 
 wages. In all the company had saved about $40,000. Unfortunately, 
 no comment of Mrs. McCormick's on the total balance sheet, 
 human and financial, is found. 
 
 A year later there was a dreadful sequel — another and a far more 
 serious clash culminating in the Haymarket Riot that set Chicago 
 rocking. This time, because Mrs. McCormick and her son were 
 together in Chicago, there is little written record to illumine her 
 reactions. Many years afterward, however, when a different kind 
 of trouble was on hand, she wrote: "I recited the awful episode in 
 1886, which resulted in the trial for murder of the anarchists — all 
 arising from the unwisdom, at first, of Averill, superintendent." 
 Probably, though no details of her recital remain, she meant by 
 
HEAD OF THE FAMILY 1 49 
 
 "unwisdom" a characteristic harshness rather than any basic prin- 
 ciple of the superintendent's policy. 
 
 There had been continued unrest — a series of minor strikes. Low 
 wages and unemployment made life difficult for the worker. Agita- 
 tion for the eight-hour day was intensifying, complicated by the 
 revolutionary doctrines of anarchistic leaders. 
 
 At the McCormick works there were still the two bosses who 
 had figured so unfavorably the year before. Wages had been cut 
 again. In February of 1886, at the instance of the Knights of Labor, 
 demands were made by a committee of McCormick workmen for 
 increase in wages to the point from which they had been cut, and 
 for the establishment of the principle that union activities should 
 not be a ground for discrimination. The Company readily granted 
 the wage increase; on the point of refusing dictation by the union 
 it stood firm. The committee declining to accept the position, 
 Cyrus McCormick closed the works, throwing out fourteen hun- 
 dred men. 
 
 The lockout lasted from the middle to the end of February. 
 Union representatives demanded the dismissal of five non-union 
 men, whom, they said, the foundry foreman (the same whose dis- 
 missal had been sought the year before) had threatened. This was 
 refused. Other groups asked the reopening of the works on the 
 company's terms. When the decision was reached to reopen — at 
 wages ranging from $1.50 a day for laborers to $2.00 a day for 
 skilled workers — Cyrus McCormick himself drove down the Black 
 Road, through the muttering crowd gathered around the barred 
 gates of the factory. His son Cyrus tells the story in The Cen- 
 tury of the Reaper. A rumor had been circulated that troops might 
 come to protect the factory gates from attack. The crowd had 
 collected as many arms as it could. Down the long street in a buggy, 
 with trotting horses, came a young man, smiling and apparently 
 carefree. The crowd parted. He waved good morning, drove 
 through the crowd to the gates. Not recognizing him, they gasped 
 at his temerity. He gave an order to the guard within, the gate 
 swung back, and he entered. In a moment he reappeared and called 
 to the crowd, "Come on in, boys, if you want to work. The gate 
 is open." 
 
 But this was not the end. The trouble smoldered. Not all the 
 men were taken back. The agitators, with a good cause — the im- 
 
150 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 provement of the laborer's lot — were busily doing it harm by in- 
 flammatory propaganda. May Day trouble was expected, did not 
 come. Two days later there was an attack by strikers and others 
 on non-union workers and guards, incited by the anarchist August 
 Spies. When the police responded to a riot call, they were met with 
 stones. They replied with bullets and several persons were 
 wounded. Spies, editor of the Arbeiter-Zeitung, then published an 
 incendiary circular and called for a protest meeting for the evening 
 of May 4 in Haymarket Square. The meeting flamed into tragedy. 
 It had gone along peaceably enough during most of the evening. 
 In the judgment of Mayor Harrison, who was present, the speeches 
 were hot but not revolutionary. But after he left, a zealous sub- 
 officer, Inspector Bonfield, decided otherwise, marched on the 
 meeting with a hundred and seventy-six men, and ordered it to dis- 
 perse. A bomb was thrown, policemen were killed and wounded, 
 policemen fired into the crowd, dealt death and injury. 
 
 A reign of terror followed. Chicago was shaken and nerve- 
 torn; the police made sweeping arrests, found any amount of 
 evidence of anarchistic propaganda, though not the identity of the 
 bomb thrower. The trial of the anarchists — eight of them — was 
 conducted by Judge Joseph E. Gary, a bitter foe of labor organiza- 
 tions, in an atmosphere of emotion, prejudice and, in the judgment 
 of some historians, extreme unfairness. Seven men were condemned 
 to death by hanging, for inciting to violence, one to fifteen years' 
 imprisonment for conspiracy. Four of the men, in November 1887, 
 were hanged; one committed suicide in his cell; three whose sen- 
 tences were commuted were pardoned in June 1893 by Governor 
 Peter Altgeld, with a resulting storm of criticism as well as much 
 praise. 
 
 Even before the sentences were carried out in 1887 there was 
 strong reaction. Great pressure was put upon Governor Oglesby 
 to commute all the sentences, and a last-minute secret meeting of 
 business leaders, called by Lyman J. Gage, to consider asking com- 
 mutation, would probably have altered the event, if Marshall Field 
 had not stood against such a request. 
 
 There is nothing to show the McCormicks' position, except Mrs. 
 McCormick's reference to Averill, the reception of letters praising 
 their steadfastness, and the response to one of these made by Cyrus 
 that "we have together, done what we could to uphold liberality 
 
HEAD OF THE FAMILY 151 
 
 and fairness in our dealings with the laboring classes so far as our 
 men are concerned, and where the issue was one of principle, we 
 have been unwilling to surrender, whatever might be the cost." In 
 the Interior, which might be considered as in some sort a McCor- 
 mick expression, there appears no concern over the question of 
 fairness in the conduct of the trial though much over the menace of 
 these advocates of violence. 
 
 Of special incidental interest among Mrs. McCormick's papers 
 are two letters written to her in October of 1886 by Emma Dryer, 
 leader of "Bible-Work" under Dwight L. Moody, the letters of a 
 spectator at one of the trials of Fielden, Spies, and Parsons, three 
 of the anarchists. Though unsympathetic with Fielden's views, 
 Miss Dryer was impressed with his long, passionate plea for justice 
 to the poor (whom she served so well). She held that the govern- 
 ment must go much deeper even than the execution of justly con- 
 demned leaders of anarchy, and urged Christian education as the 
 one great answer. 
 
 Another trouble, long in brewing, came to a climax during 
 Mrs. McCormick's stay in Philadelphia. This was the controversy 
 between the Cyrus and the Leander lines of the McCormick family 
 which, though in a quiet phase at the time of the elder's death, was 
 not settled. Its roots reach far down into their history and it was to 
 shadow the family relationship for at least another generation. 
 
 The adjustment of August 1 1, 1879, referred to in the preceding 
 chapter, had started well but had soon proved unsatisfactory. There 
 were questions concerning patents and questions of authority. 
 Leander McCormick and his son Robert Hall felt that they were 
 ignored, claimed that orders went direct from the office to the 
 men, and gradually they made a practice of staying away from 
 work. Early in 1880 Cyrus Hall McCormick set forth to the di- 
 rectors a detailed complaint of the two. They replied, and at the 
 same time the son resigned and the father announced a "temporary" 
 absence of about six months. The elder brother in turn answered, 
 the office of superintendent of manufacturing (Leander 's) was 
 declared vacant, and a resolution censuring Leander and Hall was 
 placed upon the records. Leander McCormick's "temporary" ab- 
 sence extended beyond the six months, but salaries of father and 
 son were claimed throughout the five-year period of the contract. 
 Leander McCormick asserted that he had been forced out, Cyrus 
 
152 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 McCormick that Leander had walked out. Leander and Hall, still 
 directors, demanded the expunging of the resolution and the pay- 
 ment of their salaries. On another of their demands, concerning 
 the price to be paid for the machines shipped abroad in 1 878-1 879, 
 Cyrus McCormick had yielded, paying considerably more than the 
 cost price for which he had held out. But when he died there had 
 been no concession on either the salaries or the resolution of cen- 
 sure. 
 
 Yet personal relations between the brothers had been pleasanter 
 in the last year or so of Mr. McCormick's life. The elder brother 
 had taken considerable interest in the marriage of his brother Lean- 
 der's daughter, Henrietta Laura, to a visiting Englishman, Fred- 
 erick Goodhart. After hearing of Cyrus McCormick's death Mr. 
 Goodhart wrote from England, where Leander McCormick was 
 at the time: "Poor Mr. McCormick was quite overcome and 
 stunned by the news. You can hardly imagine how great cause for 
 satisfaction he feels that he and his brother parted on the best of 
 terms." 
 
 In the months that followed, Leander McCormick and his son 
 pressed the matter of the resolution and the salaries, as well as the 
 declaration of dividends which had also been one of their demands. 
 There were many unhappy meetings between young Cyrus and his 
 uncle and that uncle's family, with lawyers on both sides. Of these 
 the young president sent careful reports to his mother in Phila- 
 delphia, and got advice and encouragement from her in return. 
 Gradually they moved toward the preparation of a resolution that 
 would undo the vote of censure, and toward agreement on $20,000 
 as the amount to be paid in back salaries. In the midst of the har- 
 rowing negotiations, with endless discussion back and forth, the 
 Leander side threatened a libel suit. To this report, Mrs. McCor- 
 mick replied spiritedly: "That warm talk does not intimidate me 
 a particle — 'tis all wind." 
 
 In the fall of 1885 the tension heightened. Leander and Hall 
 hinted that if they could not be satisfied they would resort to the 
 retributive publication of "proofs" which they had been collecting 
 that Robert McCormick and not his son Cyrus was the inventor 
 of a successful reaper. Just when this suggestion of Robert's in- 
 vention was first made perhaps no one knows. But from time to 
 time there had been word of it — enough to stimulate Cyrus to send 
 
HEAD OF THE FAMILY ^3 
 
 William J. Hanna of the reaper works into the Valley of Virginia 
 to collect data from relatives, servants, neighbors. Leander, coming 
 across this trail, had probably in turn been stimulated to fresh 
 efforts. At any rate, the material in favor of their claim was as- 
 sembled and printed as a pamphlet under the title, "The Memorial 
 of Robert McCormick," a few months after the inventor's death. 
 It is not necessary to review it here. Mr. McCormick's biographer, 
 William T. Hutchinson, studying all the evidence dispassionately' 
 has made the case for Cyrus Hall McCormick clear, documenting 
 it from his papers with painstaking care. 1 Our concern is with the 
 attitude of his widow. 
 
 When the material was printed late in the summer of 1885 Cyrus 
 wrote to his mother: "Shall we recognize the pamphlet . . . ?" 
 His mother's answer was firm and decisive: "Now as to the pam- 
 phlet, I think no action of ours should hinge on that. No notice 
 whatever can we take of it. It has no life. It is a dead issue they are 
 raising. I believe if we take no notice of it nothing will come of it. 
 We have a plain duty to do, just as if the pamphlet had not been 
 brought to our notice. 
 
 "I think no time should be lost in getting a satisfactory resolu- 
 tion passed I mean as satisfactory to them as we can, and the 
 payment of the money. 
 
 "You have felt this conviction— I feel it. No time should be 
 lost. . . . 
 
 "We have always wanted to live in peace and harmony— and we 
 can if we are wise — I feel — " 
 
 The issue was dead. There was nothing here for argument. That 
 this was a choice made in wisdom and dignity, and not from any 
 thought that the case was weak, can not be for a moment doubted. 
 All her strong respect and regard for her husband, all her own in- 
 tegrity in writing of his invention, are convincingly against that 
 thought. To have argued would have been both disloyal and in- 
 effective. She was clear about it and she held her ground unwaver- 
 ingly. 
 
 But that was a different matter from seeking "peace and har- 
 mony" in relations with those who had struck at her husband, not 
 openly when he could reply, but within less than a year and a half 
 
 T nnT ma xK T 'r Hutchi " son ' C * w Hall McCormick, Vol. II. New York & 
 London, The Century Co., 1930. Chapter V. 
 
154 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 after death had silenced him. She sought it, nevertheless — partly, 
 perhaps, in the conviction that thus she could better protect her 
 husband's memory, since she believed that dead issues should be 
 buried, and partly through the operation of her deeply planted 
 Christian principles of patience and forgiveness. Though she was 
 by temperament tactful and pacific, she was in no wise timid 
 and shrinking. Given the resentment that she must have felt at this 
 attack, only such powerful qualities as these could have carried her 
 along her course. 
 
 When at last the records were cancelled, the salaries paid, the 
 dividend granted, she made every effort to carry on as if the family 
 harmony had not been broken. There was a certain amount of 
 neighborly intercourse, a pleasant exchange of correspondence at 
 times. Mrs. McCormick sent gifts for special occasions, and there 
 was warm friendliness between her and some of Leander McCor- 
 mick's family. 
 
 When Leander McCormick in 1890 ceased to be vice president 
 of the McCormick Harvesting Machine Company, his successor 
 was Eldridge Fowler. This must have been a deep satisfaction to 
 his sister. It was a climaxing point in the new relation between the 
 two that had developed after the death of Mr. McCormick. 
 Brother and sister had always been devoted and in sympathetic 
 touch throughout the varied experiences each had suffered. But 
 there had been something less than congeniality between Mr. Mc- 
 Cormick and Mr. Fowler, and the brother had not come freely to 
 his sister's home. There had been business dealings: Mrs. McCor- 
 mick had early enlisted her husband's interest in her brother, when 
 he was not yet on a firm basis financially, and there is a tradition 
 that she induced Mr. McCormick to lend Eldridge the money that 
 he had been about to spend on a set of emeralds for his young wife. 
 However that may be, Mr. McCormick did offer employment at 
 times and backed business ventures of Eldridge Fowler's with a 
 loan. But though the amenities were observed, the imperious tem- 
 perament of the master of 135 Rush Street was not agreeable to 
 Eldridge Fowler — whether to endure or to observe. 
 
 After his death brother and sister were able to enter more easily 
 into each other's lives, and Eldridge Fowler was soon able to give 
 Mrs. McCormick and her son Cyrus helpful advice in their prob- 
 
HEAD OF THE FAMILY 1 55 
 
 lems, personal and business. By the late eighties he had moved from 
 Detroit to Chicago in order to help more. 
 
 The circumstances of his own life had changed. Instead of the 
 salt production in Michigan with which he had struggled in the 
 lean sixties, he had turned to the lumber business in which his un- 
 cles had trained him at St. Clair and at Clayton, and had gradually 
 won success. By the early nineties he acquired great wealth through 
 the sagacious reserving of mineral rights in Minnesota timber land 
 he sold, in what turned out to be the fabulous Mesabi Iron Range. 
 Meantime his personal life had changed, too. In 1879, as we have 
 seen, he had lost his only son Melzar, who was already fitting into 
 his father's work. When, three years later, Eldridge 's wife, Mary 
 Skinner Fowler, died after a long struggle for health, he was left 
 alone with his daughter Clara, then sixteen. Into these tragic aspects 
 of her brother's life Nettie McCormick had entered deeply, and 
 when he had the responsibility of being mother as well as father 
 to Clara, she had aided in counsels and aided with love. Clara had 
 felt very close to "Aunt Nettie." 
 
 The same year that he moved to Chicago, Eldridge married for 
 his second wife a lovely woman who had been a favorite teacher 
 of Clara's at Ogontz school and for a time her companion. But 
 Kate Grosvenor Fowler contracted typhoid fever and died hardly 
 more than two years after her marriage, leaving to the care of 
 Eldridge and Clara her baby daughter Edith, later to be named by 
 her own choice Kate— a new concern of Aunt Nettie as well. 
 
 Meantime Eldridge Fowler had entered progressively into some 
 of the outstanding problems of his sister and nephew Cyrus, when- 
 ever they might take him. He assumed management of Mrs. Mc- 
 Cormick's securities account and advised her about investments; 
 went to Arkansas in order to investigate certain lumber interests; 
 and to McCormick, South Carolina, on mining and real estate 
 matters. He took part in important decisions about where Virginia 
 McCormick should live and about the choice of physicians; even- 
 tually he became a trustee for her care and affairs. The McCormick 
 real estate interests were on his mind and he aided in the settlement 
 of Mr. McCormick's estate. With study and experience he became 
 a valued adviser on affairs of the company, and as vice president 
 of the McCormick Harvesting Machine Company contributed 
 
156 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 most helpfully. He advised on the formation of the still-born Amer- 
 ican Harvester Company, unfortunate predecessor of the great 
 combination of later years. 
 
 In one connection Cyrus said: "I like having Uncle Eldridge be- 
 cause he is so sound"; and Mrs. McCormick wrote to Cyrus: "Un- 
 cle Eldridge has been a great comfort and is a fine judge of what is 
 best, and most wise in business, and in all things." 
 
 Besides which, Uncle Eldridge (Nunkie to the younger daugh- 
 ter, who was especially close to him) was a dearly loved friend of 
 the whole family. 
 
"WORKING HIS WORKS" 
 
 o 
 
 N THE first anniversary of her husband's last Sunday on 
 earth Mrs. McCormick wrote: 
 
 "All this day his face has been before me, his accents have been 
 in my ears, and the blessing of it rests upon me now, just as it did 
 then. I am thinking, Oh, have I done the things I felt stirred to do 
 then? Has the intense impulse I then felt to work the works he 
 left me to do weakened any? These are the thoughts that fill me 
 today as the hand of time points to one completed circle, one 
 year." 
 
 Whatever "works" she may have had in mind, the record of 
 donations during that year was impressive. Mr. McCormick's will 
 had provided that for five years his estate should remain undis- 
 tributed. During that time his executors, his wife and his son Cyrus, 
 were authorized to make "such reasonable donations therefrom 
 to charitable or benevolent purposes" as in their judgment he would 
 have made if living. 
 
 It was of course a complimentary instruction, one not difficult 
 to carry out. For the lines of Mr. McCormick's philanthropy — 
 church, the Seminary, schools — were well defined. And his wife, at 
 least, had certainly shared in defining them. To give as they 
 thought he would have done, his wife and son need hardly do 
 more than consult their own wishes. Family support of the church 
 of course was to continue. So was strong aid to the Seminary which 
 was Mr. McCormick's dearest philanthropy. As for other schools, 
 widow and son met the claims of ties of state loyalty by duplicating 
 the endowment gift which Mr. McCormick had made in the sixties 
 to Washington College (now Washington and Lee University), 
 near his home in the Valley of Virginia. Interested in the struggle 
 to rebuild the old school, he had become a trustee; and he had of- 
 
 i57 
 
158 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 fered kindness to its president, General Robert E. Lee, when his 
 health failed. 
 
 To several other institutions that perhaps had some hold on Mr. 
 McCormick's interest the executors made small gifts, most of them 
 not to be renewed; but their gifts to schools in the Middle West 
 and the Southern Mountains looked both ways — back to some 
 benevolence of his, forward to creative work that his widow was 
 to carry on. 
 
 As the years passed, Cyrus McCormick, Virginian, had naturally 
 become more completely identified with the expanding Middle 
 West. His home was there. His business was based on the needs of 
 the great stretches of prairie. His interest and his machines went 
 out together into Iowa, Dakota, Nebraska. It was natural that his 
 gifts should follow to the young, struggling Presbyterian schools 
 that dotted, infrequently, that great region. And when in 1883 the 
 Presbyterians created a new agency, a Board of Aid for Colleges 
 and Academies, which emphasized the pioneer schools of the 
 prairie country, the course for him, and so for his heirs, was clear. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick was intensely interested in the growth of these 
 pioneer schools. She had heard much about them from Dr. Herrick 
 Johnson, president of the Board of Aid, who was a professor in 
 the Seminary of the North- West, a distinguished gentleman, a 
 striking personality, and a cherished friend. College presidents 
 came and went up and down the steps at Rush Street, seeking 
 audience for their stories of difficulties and triumphs. We may take 
 space for a few of the schools thus represented. 
 
 There was Pierre University up in the great expanse of what is 
 now South Dakota. The school had opened in 1883 with three 
 pupils under the sonorous name of the Presbyterian University of 
 Southern Dakota (toned down before long to Pierre University). 
 One frame building on that windswept hill took care of everything. 
 
 Pierre had high hopes in those days. It was the terminus of the 
 North Western Railroad. Freight destined for army posts beyond, 
 for up-river Indian agencies, for the great cattle ranches on the 
 prairie reaches west of the river, for mining camps in the Black 
 Hills, was brought to Pierre. Thence it was transported by wagon 
 trains hauled by long strings of oxen or mules spurred by "bull 
 whackers" and "mule skinners." Enormous freight houses stood 
 
 
"working his works" 159 
 
 along the river front. Fast mail and stage coaches departed daily 
 for the Black Hills. 
 
 Believing in the future of Pierre and its new college, the McCor- 
 mick executors gave the final $7,500 to erect a second building. It 
 became McCormick Hall in memory of the inventor. And they 
 continued to aid in following years. 
 
 But the high hopes of Pierre faded. Railway traffic changed; 
 up-river trade dwindled; drought followed drought; dust storms 
 darkened the skies and all beneath them. Under the hot dry winds 
 the college support withered along with the crops. Finally in 1898 
 the college was moved to Huron and Scotland Academy came 
 from the town of Scotland to merge with it. Presently, Calvin H. 
 French from Scotland Academy became President, and a new 
 chapter opened in which Mrs. McCormick was to play an im- 
 portant part, her gifts carrying on even beyond her lifetime. Huron 
 College still goes on strongly. 
 
 Still farther up in the Dakota cold, in what was to be the State of 
 North Dakota, another Presbyterian college had its beginnings. 
 This was Jamestown College to which the McCormick estate con- 
 tributed in the later 1880's; but its star was to set in 1893 f° r s ^~ 
 teen long years. It would rise again when Barend H. Kroeze, 
 familiar with the sight of the lone ruin set on a hill as he traveled 
 by on the train, accepted the presidency, and began almost 
 literally to dig the college out. Into that undertaking Mrs. Mc- 
 Cormick, no longer a trustee of her husband's estate, was to enter 
 largely. Taber Hall on Jamestown's lovely campus still attests her 
 interest. 
 
 Everything about Hastings College in Nebraska, when the Mc- 
 Cormicks' aid was enlisted, was either brand-new or in the future. 
 It was a gallant infant of a school with a campus and soaring hopes, 
 but no buildings. The new synod of Nebraska could not back its 
 endorsement with funds. But even before the Board of Aid had 
 become a reality, Hastings' enterprising president had appealed to 
 Mr. McCormick to give Hastings a building that would be the first 
 gift made under the new Board. It was so done. Even before they 
 reached the General Assembly that was to create the Board, the 
 journeying Hastings officials had word that their plea had been 
 granted. 
 
l6o NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 That first gift attached to the first building the name "McCor- 
 mick Hall"; within a few years the donor's son and widow had 
 added to the original gift, and a little later Mrs. McCormick had 
 supplied the first real endowment of the college, $15,000. Through 
 a succession of years an annual check helped to carry running ex- 
 penses, another gift replaced second-hand stoves with a heating 
 plant, and aid was at hand when the roof leaked or seats were 
 needed. 
 
 An early gift of the executors went to "a Christian college on a 
 Missouri mudbank" — Park College, of Parkville, Missouri. It 
 continued an interest in which Mr. McCormick shared but which 
 has far more to say of his wife than of him. To this unique insti- 
 tution Mrs. McCormick gave loyal support over a period of thirty 
 years. The personalities, all named McAfee, of the management 
 appealed to her: John A. McAfee, who gave himself with devoted, 
 almost fierce, persistence to his idea; his self-sacrificing wife, and 
 the five sons and one daughter who carried on his idea and his life 
 work; and the ideas themselves. 
 
 Those ideas were: the maintenance of a school where boys and 
 girls who could not get a college training elsewhere might pay 
 from nothing to seventy-five dollars a year, through the work- 
 ing out of a self-help system centering around the thought of a 
 family. All the students shared in the work, cooking and serving 
 meals, cleaning, making beds, building fences, even constructing 
 buildings, and doing all the work of a farm. This program, as the 
 founder saw it, was a part of the education offered — a sound prep- 
 aration for life, and a generator of the power that would make 
 Park College students civic and religious leaders in their commu- 
 nities. To all this Mrs. McCormick gave warm assent. She was not 
 uncritical, but she thoroughly approved the practical emphasis, 
 the discipline, the simplicity of the life, the use of farm, kitchen, 
 and carpenter shop as instruments of personality building. 
 
 The McCormicks had begun to fit into the picture early in the 
 eighties. In 1883 Mr. McAfee at Park could not only delight in 
 the thought of a reaper "well cared for, stored in a plastered room ,, 
 but could look out of his window at a mower coming in from work 
 in millet. Mr. McAfee's letter of fervent thanks went to Mrs. Mc- 
 Cormick, who had probably been the moving force in securing 
 the farm machinery. With money given shortly after Mr. McCor- 
 
i6i 
 
 mick's death for the purchase of land, the farm was extended and 
 the productive power of the students increased. Not long after, 
 Mrs. McCormick gave Park College a building— that is, the 
 money for materials to erect it by student labor in accordance with 
 the Park College practice. Youths from the classes of the later 
 eighties and the early nineties learned to be stone quarriers, stone 
 masons, and brick makers on behalf of this building. It was named 
 McCormick Chapel and for many years it served as the center of 
 campus life. 
 
 At Mrs. McCormick's hands it gained from time to time im- 
 provements or repairs. The enormous stove with its pipe in full, 
 unlovely view was replaced by a hot-air furnace. The movable 
 chairs and benches yielded eventually to oaken pews. She bestowed 
 a beautiful red carpet, which she had purchased at the World's 
 Columbian Exposition, on the chapel platform. Not content merely 
 to send the carpet to Parkville, she had it stretched out on the floor 
 of her ballroom and with the aid of experts painstakingly measured 
 it and planned its arrangement on the chapel floor. 
 
 Through the years, as long as the McAfee family was at the 
 helm, she stood by with support. Such words as grading, shin- 
 gling, beef, land, seats, laboratory, water supply, not to mention 
 dormitory and endowment, appear opposite entries in her ledgers 
 under the heading, Park College. Other columns show the range 
 of her warm-hearted concern for the members of that remarkable 
 McAfee family (which included in another generation Mildred 
 McAfee, later Mrs. Douglas Horton, who was to become pres- 
 ident of Wellesley College and then head of the Waves) . There was 
 provision for dentistry, hospitals, nurses, and the right kind of room 
 for an invalid child. There was the cost of sending a wife along 
 with her husband to General Assembly, for pleasure and also be- 
 cause Mrs. McCormick always liked to exalt the wife's share in 
 the life work of a preacher or professor husband. There were 
 other matters not so much of need as of enjoyment and enrich- 
 ment — tuition at school or college, summers in camp, the building 
 of a summer cottage, sizable wedding gifts. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick's first gift to Tusculum College in the South- 
 ern mountains marked the beginning of a major interest of her 
 own. But the story starts before Mr. McCormick's death, when 
 sometime in the early eighties certain young men of the mountains 
 
1 62 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 considered where they would go for theological training. They 
 had finished their college work at Tusculum, an old Presbyterian 
 school in the beautiful Appalachian valley of eastern Tennessee. 
 Now they were ready to carry out the purpose for which so many 
 Presbyterian boys of the mountains entered college — to train for 
 the ministry. And some one had a bright idea: to go to the Sem- 
 inary of the North-West in Chicago with the double purpose of 
 attending a good school and winning the interest of the McCor- 
 micks for Tusculum. 
 
 The idea took root, bore blossom and fruit. The Tusculum boys 
 entered the Seminary. About three months before Mr. McCor- 
 mick died they attended a Seminary reception at the McCormick 
 home. There, according to one recollection, they had an oppor- 
 tunity to tell host and hostess about their beloved college and thus 
 opened the way for a direct approach. 
 
 Some months later, the story continues, the Tusculum delega- 
 tion persuaded Dr. Willis G. Craig, a Kentuckian on the Seminary 
 faculty, to accompany them to the McCormick mansion on Rush 
 Street. Perhaps he only encouraged the young men to go. In any 
 event, Mrs. McCormick in her heavy crape listened to them with 
 gracious attention. 
 
 Tusculum, they told her, was Presbyterian, sound, needy, 
 Southern, though in that part of Tennessee which had stayed with 
 the Union in the Civil War. The students were nearly all from the 
 neighboring mountain regions, of the same Scotch-Irish stock 
 from which Mr. McCormick had sprung; eager to work and sacri- 
 fice for an education; likely to join ministerial ranks, via the Sem- 
 inary in Chicago. 
 
 Always an eager and skilful questioner, Mrs. McCormick un- 
 doubtedly brought out the highlights of Tusculum's history: how 
 the Rev. Samuel Doak, a Presbyterian clergyman and a Princeton 
 scholar, had penetrated into this lovely valley in the last quarter 
 of the eighteenth century, built a log cabin to house the modest 
 beginnings of Martin Academy, which by 1795 had become Wash- 
 ington College; how after preaching and teaching the classics there 
 for twenty-three years, he had come fourteen miles farther along 
 the valley to set up another academy, which in time became Tus- 
 culum College. Again the combination church and school was a 
 log cabin. Here tradition says he competently heard students of 
 
Nancy (Nettie) Fowler at nearly fifteen From a daguerreotype 
 

Mrs. McConnick 1 86 1 From a portrait by G. P. A. Healy 
 
Nettie Fowler McCormick 1867 
 From a portrait by Cabanel 
 
h 
 
Mrs. McCormick at fifty New York Photograph by G. C. Cox 
 
FMJ 
 
The bonnet was a feature of Mrs. McCormick's dress for years 
 Chicago Photograph by Lewis-Smith 
 

 o 
 
 U 
 u 
 
 U 
 
 <u O 
 
 S £ 
 
 S rt 
 
 £ bA 
 
 o o 
 
 .tt o 
 
 G bfl 
 
 < § 
 
 5 u 
 
 4-1 W 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 o 
 
 U 
 
 o 
 
Mrs. McCormick at seventy Chicago Photograph by Koehne 
 
?:i: W 
 
 N 
 
 : 
 
 Mrs. McCormick at House-in-the-Woods, Lake Forest 
 Chicago Photograph by Moffett 
 
 1919 
 
WORKING HIS WORKS 1 63 
 
 two or more Latin classes recite at once, his trained ear as quick 
 to detect errors of sound as an orchestra leader's. Perhaps they 
 showed her his picture, in buckled shoes, with a large white stock 
 and a white cap fastened under his chin. 
 
 By 1844 the Academy had become a college. It all but disap- 
 peared during the War between the States, when troops swept back 
 and forth over that country. But a few miles farther west another 
 Princeton pioneering preacher, Hezekiah Balch, had organized 
 even earlier another school — Greeneville College, along with 
 Mount Bethel Church. When the war rolled over the far eastern 
 end of Tennessee, this school too was wrecked. But in the late six- 
 ties the small remains of Greeneville College and Tusculum College 
 gathered themselves literally together and united under the name 
 "Greeneville and Tusculum College," and today, though "Greene- 
 ville" has disappeared, the date of its founding, 1794, is preserved 
 over Tusculum's gateway. 
 
 What those youths told Mrs. McCormick about the work of 
 the school and the character of its students is clear from the letter 
 that she wrote to the College Board, her response to the young 
 men's plea: 
 
 "There has been for seventy years a Presbyterian classical school 
 at a village called Tusculum in the mountains of East Tennessee 
 and it is said to have educated and sent out more fine scholars 
 into the Presbyterian ministry on less capital than any school in 
 the country. 
 
 "The young men have all these years brought food from the 
 farms, and have lived in small cabins and cooked it themselves 
 while they were getting their education. Every thing about their 
 one building is of the most primitive and limited character. Ten 
 thousand dollars will put up there as good a building as twenty 
 thousand will do here, and of this ten thousand they have four 
 thousand, and would like us to furnish six thousand. If we do this 
 will you let this money be given by us through your board? They 
 always remained loyal to the northern Presbyterian Church As- 
 sembly. 
 
 "Such material as those steadfast mountaineers is not met with 
 every day, and I want to see this institution built. ..." 
 
 Needless to say, the Board gave its gracious consent. Today on 
 that beautiful campus with its glorious Appalachian backdrop 
 
164 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 five college buildings and several houses attest Mrs. McCormick's 
 interest in Tusculum. But that is by no means the whole story. 
 There is a record of years of support, of the founding and main- 
 tenance of a department of home economics (when it was called 
 domestic science), of the painstaking choice of teachers, whose 
 salaries she paid and with whose work she kept in close touch, and 
 of innumerable loving-kindnesses to faculty and students. There is 
 more to tell of Nettie Fowler McCormick and Tusculum later. 
 
 The two other southern institutions on this roll-call of begin- 
 nings were related to Mr. McCormick's South Carolina interests 
 though her giving was not inspired by his. Thornwell Orphanage 
 at Clinton was an interest distinctly Mrs. McCormick's own, 
 though it began in her husband's time. There were particularly 
 appealing elements in it — an expression of her love of children; of 
 her thought of her own orphan state ("An orphan is to me an 
 object of peculiar interest"), her sympathy with an advanced 
 attitude about the care of orphans; and the unusual circumstance 
 that in all her long years of aiding this institution she saw its di- 
 rector just once and that for a brief time years after she had be- 
 come a donor. But Dr. William Plumer Jacobs, head of the Or- 
 phanage, had conveyed through his letters so clear and loving a 
 picture of his charges that Mrs. McCormick must have felt well 
 acquainted with him and the work. 
 
 She knew about Thornwell before the first building was opened. 
 On a day in 1875 when she and her husband were on a train leaving 
 White Sulphur Springs in West Virginia, General Robert D. 
 Lilley, financial agent for Washington and Lee University and an 
 old friend of the family, told of the orphanage idea and received 
 from Mrs. McCormick her first contribution — ten dollars. 
 
 The idea had come with oppressive compulsion to the young 
 pastor of the Presbyterian church at Clinton. He had pondered, 
 being sure of the need but not seeing the way, for he lived on a 
 tiny salary, and South Carolina was poor; but finally he began to 
 tell others of his idea — a new one, then — for an orphanage that 
 would be a home, not an asylum, and then the first gift came to 
 him when an orphan boy laid in his hand a fifty-cent piece. The 
 next day that gift was matched by his own little daughter and the 
 fund was on its way. 
 
 In its early days the orphanage was under fierce attack from 
 
WORKING HIS WORKS" 1 65 
 
 various persons and papers in the state. They were against Dr. 
 Jacobs's plan because of its fundamental principle that the orphans 
 should be treated and educated as well as any other children. These 
 attacks caught the attention of Judge J. S. Cothran of Abbeville, 
 who was the attorney and representative for the McCormicks' 
 interest at the Dorn Gold Mine some fifty miles away from Thorn- 
 well. He took occasion to tell Mrs. McCormick sympathetically 
 about the orphanage and its trials, and before long she gave a thou- 
 sand dollar scholarship, which yielded in those spacious days the 
 necessary $70 to care for one little orphan every year and greatly 
 encouraged the young principal. It came to be known as the Nettie 
 McCormick scholarship. Boxes of boys' clothing, Christmas cards, 
 money went to Thornwell from time to time. And after Mr. Mc- 
 Cormick's death, mother and son allotted to the orphanage a mod- 
 est sum to add a pleasant cottage to the campus. The cornerstone 
 of the new home was laid on Mr. Cormick's birthday enclosing 
 articles chosen by his wife, and the keystone bears the inscription, 
 "The McCormick Home for Orphan Boys." 
 
 Other cottage homes followed, each named for a member of 
 Mrs. McCormick's family, six of them; also a large part of the en- 
 dowment needed to secure the president's chair, and many other 
 gifts, including contributions to Dr. Jacobs's health and happiness 
 —aids to vacation and rest for the overstrained, devoted man. 
 
 His one meeting with Mrs. McCormick was at Asheville in 1892. 
 She sent for him to come to her at the Battery Park Hotel, where 
 she was held by illness with Harold and Stanley in attendance. 
 Years later he wrote her, "I remember your bright and happy face 
 and I then wondered how you could be so happy under such af- 
 fliction"— referring to her deafness. The same affliction had come 
 to him now, and in the later years he bore the added burden of 
 almost total blindness. But he continued to serve his orphans and 
 to radiate the beautiful faith that had guided him. 
 
 "People feel," Mrs. McCormick wrote to him, "that you weave 
 more of home, and less of the institution into your Orphanage 
 than any other man perhaps in the country." Dr. Jacobs credited 
 her with much of the success at Thornwell: "You have done noble 
 work here, and I am claiming it as if it were my work. I could have 
 done nothing, or next to nothing, had it not been for you." Suc- 
 cess meant to him turning "little stray urchins into Doctors of 
 
1 66 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 Divinity, Deans of Medical Colleges, leading editors in wide-awake 
 communities and loving and true hearted wives and mothers." 
 
 Mrs. McCormick's other South Carolina interest was an academy 
 at the little town named for her husband on the scene of his long 
 search for gold. Between 1868 and 1881 he had sunk in the Dorn 
 Gold Mine, in what was then Laurens County, well over $200,000, 
 not to mention a vast expenditure of time, energy, and emotion. 
 He was deaf to the advice of trusted advisers, including his wife 
 — at least until within a few years of his death. Mrs. McCormick 
 herself visited the place, as he never did. She worked the inspection 
 into a trip to Augusta in the spring of 1882 when her daughter 
 Virginia with an aunt and some of her family went down there 
 to prepare a house for Mr. McCormick's winter residence. He 
 never went; but accompanied by a young woman friend from 
 New York, Mrs. McCormick joined the group in this house on 
 the sandhills overlooking Augusta and herself enjoyed the beauties 
 of flowering trees and blooming roses, the cool dry air and warm 
 sunshine, the charming views. 
 
 She tore herself away from the pleasure of relaxing in these 
 happy surroundings (and her usual occupations of attending to mail 
 and telegrams) to make the trip to the Dorn Mine. Apparently 
 the unfavorable opinion that she had always held was reinforced. 
 Within a few months work had been suspended at the mine; but 
 it was not finally stopped until the following year after Cyrus the 
 second had in turn visited the grim scene. His mother wrote him 
 careful instructions on all points, ending "Now after this is done 
 you will go to the mine. . . . Try and find out all you can about 
 those awful holes in the earth — but not by exploring them all 
 night!!" 
 
 Cyrus sent back to her a depressing picture of "decaying mills, 
 tottering buildings, rust-eaten machinery, scattered shafts and cog 
 wheels." "Through it all," he added, "there runs a dark thread of 
 misrepresentation, deceit, intrigue, imposition and misplaced con- 
 fidence in sinners who were supposed to be saints. This is the 'great 
 gold mine' of today at McCormick, S.C." 
 
 Mrs. McCormick replied: "I have your truthful description of 
 that great puzzle which has brought us only troubles — and as 
 many of them as Pandora's box held. ... I wish papa would 
 never be puzzled again as to what to do with the Mine. I wish he 
 
WORKING HIS WORKS 1 67 
 
 would shut it up forever — and I have always, uniformly, so ad- 
 vised him always — always since we owned it. I would do some- 
 thing for the town of McCormick and perhaps something to de- 
 velop the railroad interest, but not the gold mine." 
 
 Presently, by Mrs. McCormick's own order, it was closed — 
 never again to be worked by the McCormicks, though some man- 
 ganese was mined there. 
 
 But if Mrs. McCormick was less than lukewarm toward the gold 
 mine, she was whole hearted toward the building up of a town at 
 this point. That idea had flowered late in 1881 when it became evi- 
 dent that a railroad was coming to the town, if aided by Mr. Mc- 
 Cormick, and that thus the shipping of manganese might at last 
 be profitable. Besides, there was a sincere wish to help this com- 
 munity despite the grief suffered here. Forty acres of the twelve 
 hundred were set aside for the town. A fine site it was — "high, 
 dry, and piny," wrote the legal adviser and friend, C. C. Copeland, 
 whom Mr. McCormick sent down to investigate and who ended as 
 auctioneer. Lots were sold, on a rainy day that discouraged pur- 
 chasers; but the town was started even though the first railroad was 
 still three miles away. Streets were named after members of the 
 McCormick family and their friends. 
 
 And in one small way, at any rate, Dorn Mine gold entered into 
 the picture. For the McCormicks' agent cut the first stick in laying 
 out the town and had it made into a cane with gold from Dorn 
 Mine for a head. 
 
 Within the next two or three years the Savannah Valley Rail- 
 road had come to cross the Greenwood & Augusta Railroad and 
 the town progressed. In the summer after Mr. McCormick's death 
 Mrs. McCormick and Cyrus agreed to build an academy or high 
 school building, and give land for a cemetery. The town rejoiced 
 and celebrated the completion of the Academy by holding a "Grand 
 Educational Barbecue." Mrs. McCormick took her usual close in- 
 terest in the details of constructing this building. She sent a young 
 architect, A. Page Brown, a protege of hers, to draw plans for the 
 Academy, for the Memorial Home at Thornwell Orphanage, and 
 for that first building of hers at Tusculum College. The Academy 
 was a simple, substantial building of three rooms set on a hill over- 
 looking the town; the McCormicks deeded it to a local board of 
 trustees, and the town took great pride in it. At first there was only 
 
I 68 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 one teacher, and instead of the conventional grade system classes 
 were arranged according to the books available. An early student 
 reported: "Each pupil brought what books he could. Should two 
 pupils have the same books, they were placed in a class together." 
 
 Improving with the years, the school served its purpose until 
 in 191 2 it was replaced by a more modern and a larger structure. A 
 marble slab at its main entrance bears the inscription: 
 
 "This tablet is erected in grateful appreciation of the munificence 
 of Mrs. Nettie F. McCormick, who donated the site of this build- 
 ing." 
 
 And now we turn to a Chicago interest other than the McCor- 
 mick Theological Seminary, to which a separate chapter is given. 
 
 As we have seen, both Mr. and Mrs. McCormick shared actively 
 in the work of Dwight L. Moody, the famous evangelist. In the 
 third year after Mr. McCormick's death, Mr. Moody came from 
 the East to carry out a long-cherished plan. 
 
 Mr. Moody was now at the zenith of his great powers. This 
 man who had known but meager schooling had founded and was 
 ably conducting two schools near his home in Northfield, Massa- 
 chusetts — Mount Hermon School and Northfield Seminary, for 
 boys and girls, respectively, of limited means. His preaching had 
 won thousands of converts in cities all over the United States and 
 in Great Britain. In 1886 he had conducted the first Students' Con- 
 ference at Northfield, and a hundred students had volunteered for 
 foreign missions. 
 
 Going about the country, Mr. Moody had realized the vast need 
 for Bible training and at the same time had met numbers of men 
 and women who, with such training, would be efficient lay work- 
 ers. His idea was to start a Bible Institute as a permanent school and 
 to start it at a strategic point — Chicago, centrally located and with 
 a population of many racial strains and with extensive depressed 
 areas still churchless. The plan was, at that time, unique. 
 
 During the first four months of 1887 Mr. Moody conducted an 
 evangelistic campaign in Chicago in churches and roller-skating 
 rinks, working at the same time to establish the organization 
 which would carry out his plan. In February, in "Mr. Moody's 
 room" at the Grand Pacific Hotel, a constitution was adopted for 
 the Chicago Evangelization Society. When Mr. Moody left for the 
 East that summer, the Society was in existence, funds had been 
 
WORKING HIS WORKS 1 69 
 
 raised, and a building was projected. But the actual building halted 
 because of labor troubles, money delays, and stresses in the new 
 society. 
 
 The oppressively hot summer of 1887, when improvement of 
 the constitution was studied by some of the Chicago group, brought 
 a crisis. In the course of it Mr. Moody, then in Northfield, resigned 
 rather than oppose the will of Chicago friends, for whom Mrs. 
 McCormick was spokesman, about organization details. On re- 
 ceiving this word, Mrs. McCormick, amazed and hurt, instantly 
 resigned in turn from the work, protesting that his withdrawal 
 would endanger the whole cause. "You are the cement that holds 
 it together," she wrote. "My being in it is not important to it." She 
 did not withdraw the $50,000 pledged by the estate of Mr. McCor- 
 mick (which certainly was important to it), but she dropped an 
 offer of certain lots for the projected building. 
 
 Back of this surprising episode were no doubt various elements 
 of disagreement. "I have never had my heart so set on anything as 
 on this society," wrote Mr. Moody, "but for six months I have had 
 to oppose some of the dearest friends I have ever had & I am tired 
 and sick of it. I now take it that God is closing the door to me in 
 Chicago. . . ." 
 
 To correct defects, Mrs. McCormick and others had proposed 
 the enlargement of the Board of Managers and a lessening of the 
 power of a tiny minority. Something in the suggestions must have 
 been in key with a strain, vague now as to details, felt during the 
 preceding months — a strain that pulled deeper even than the sur- 
 face issues. It was particularly perhaps the tension between Emma 
 Dryer, director of Bible Work, and Mr. Moody and between their 
 respective supporters. 
 
 The air, as to Mr. Moody's resignation, was of course cleared 
 by explanations and Mr. Moody's telegraphed apology. "This 
 telegram," Mrs. McCormick wrote, "touched me deeply, as show- 
 ing a large heart, I thought." His resignation, held back from the 
 Board of Trustees by a wise counselor, was withdrawn, and Mrs. 
 McCormick continued to help as the work moved forward 
 through perplexities to the building of a home for the Bible 
 Institute. 
 
 In the autumn of 1889 the Institute opened in its first building. 
 There were separate departments for men and women. For both 
 
1-0 NETTIE FOSTER MCCORMICK 
 
 the basic instruction was in the English Bible, with other training 
 designed to turn out city missionaries, pastors' assistants, colpor- 
 teurs, foreign missionaries, evangelists, and other workers. 
 
 Meantime the strain within the organization had continued and 
 Mrs. McCormick had been drawn upon as peacemaker. After the 
 distressing incidents of midsummer, 1 887, she wrote to one of the 
 very few who knew about the difficulties: "I had tried to help 
 vuke peace — encouraging Mr. Moody — showing him that light 
 was just ahead, for I could see at the Grand Pacific later meetings 
 that he was distressed — and, also, I was certainly obliged ... to 
 comfort Miss Dryer's deeply wounded heart (you know our anx- 
 ieties) showing her where she mistook meanings, &c. 
 
 "These simple kindnesses should not be construed as choosing 
 sides. ... I have not taken sides, but wished to help reconcile the 
 two — the two leaders" 
 
 Bible-Work and the Chicago Evangelization Society for a time 
 united; but it was a troubled union, lasting little over a year. Dur- 
 ing that year Mrs. McCormick and her daughter Anita spent a 
 Sunday at Xorthfield with the Moodys, and the Chicago diffi- 
 culties were discussed. Mr. Moody said: "I will do anything on 
 earth that you bid me do. ... I am tied. I am in a vise. The situa- 
 tion is locked." Mrs. McCormick suggested a practical program — 
 a fixed sum for Miss Dryer's work and then the pushing of the 
 men's part. She also asked him to see Miss Dryer again. He did. 
 But the situation did not clear. The difference in Mr. Moody's and 
 Miss Dryer's ways of working — Miss Dryer orderly, precise, rigid 
 even, committed to careful planning; Mr. Moody working in 
 wider sweeps, setting things in motion — this probably even more 
 than definite differences of opinion on the management of the 
 work made a separation inevitable. Mrs. McCormick herself had 
 said some time before that from thinking that the differences were 
 only apparent she was "getting to feel that there is a real diver- 
 gence — just where it is. you cannot define — whether in method, 
 or in want of harmony, but you cannot but feel it." 
 
 Members of the Board of Trustees now felt that Miss Dryer was 
 overworked and ill and in no condition to take the headship of 
 the women workers' home — the post that she would naturally 
 have held in the new enterprise. They urged a vacation — a paid 
 vacation, but one in which the new work and its home for women 
 
"working his works" 171 
 
 workers would be set going. She refused. Mr. Moody proposed 
 a compromise, but his Board would not have it. Finally Mr. Moody 
 took the painful initiative, and before many months Miss Dryer 
 and her little band of earnest Bible Workers were associated with 
 the Chicago Bible Society, Mrs. McCormick still paying her sal- 
 ary. The separation had been a sharp wrench for Miss Dryer, but 
 she never failed in loyal interest in Mr. Moody's work. 
 
 The long record of Mrs. McCormick's ledgers, reflecting hun- 
 dreds of causes, shows the preference that these early gifts of the 
 executors forecast: a preference for Christian education as a means 
 of improving the world. In these earlier years the emphasis fell on 
 religious schools at home. Later this was to be divided with mission 
 schools and other institutions abroad. 
 
 Among the American schools chosen a majority but not all were 
 of her own denomination. With a few exceptions, especially 
 Princeton, they were schools of the West and certain areas of the 
 South rather than those of the East. This was a deliberate choice. 
 She felt that more people were likely to take an interest in the 
 Eastern schools and also that the needs of the Southern and West- 
 ern schools were more acute and immediate. 
 
 The development of a group of schools in the mountains of 
 Tennessee and North Carolina was distinctly hers. Domestic 
 science departments in these schools were her contribution. And 
 the flowering of her interest in foreign missions and particularly 
 in their most forward-looking institutions was from seed planted 
 in her own early life rather than in her husband's. 
 
 All her giving was marked by two outstanding qualities, a metic- 
 ulous, painstaking attention to detail and a whole-hearted giving 
 of herself — her time, thought, affection, prayer with her gift. She 
 added personal interest in the worker to interest in his work. 
 Then she added personal interest in the details of that work. For 
 instance, if a building were to be put up with her aid in a consid- 
 erable amount, she concerned herself with the architect's plans. If 
 the building were practically her gift, she went deeply into the 
 plans as a matter of course, taking responsibility in consultation 
 with the architect and the officials involved for decisions. Even 
 when the last word was not hers, she willingly gave of her expe- 
 rience and knowledge. A former Young Men's Christian Associa- 
 tion secretary relates an instance: Mrs. McCormick had given a 
 
172 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 generous sum toward the erection of a student building in Manila, 
 where this man, J. M. Groves, was executive. Dr. John R. Mott 
 was eager to have Mrs. McCormick see the architect's plans and 
 arranged to have Mr. Groves, home on leave, show them to her. 
 
 "I had imagined," he said, "that a woman of prominence, with 
 many interests and benefactions, would not give the drawings 
 much detailed attention. My imagining was greatly mistaken. Mrs. 
 McCormick went over the tentative plans 'with a fine-tooth 
 comb.' She was evidently concerned that the kitchen arrangements 
 should be convenient and labor-saving, and made practical sugges- 
 tions for changes to this effect. I was impressed by her enthusiasm, 
 simplicity and courtesy." 
 
 Love of people, sympathy, keen judgment, quick grasp, a "rac- 
 ing mind," a memory that put all her mental stores in reach, fore- 
 sight, breadth of view and knowledge — all these were character- 
 istic items of grace in her personality. 
 
 To what extent she had also conscious guiding principles, it 
 would be hard to estimate; but certain general ways of giving 
 emerge in her practice. For one thing, she followed the guidance 
 of those in each field of whose authority and dependability she 
 was assured. If a man were in a position implying knowledge of 
 needs and soundness of judgment, she trusted him — first tenta- 
 tively, until she had seen his work and tested it, then definitely. 
 Among the workers themselves she would make her own judg- 
 ments after she had seen a man two or three times, and would no 
 longer require official approval. Naturally, strong personal liking 
 added weight. After all, her investments, though solidly lodged in 
 permanent institutions — and this was important to her — were in 
 men and women. Being influenced by the qualities of these people 
 was only a way of choosing the instruments of purposes she found 
 good. Having accepted them, she was deeply loyal. 
 
 Nevertheless she did not usually accept recommendations with- 
 out deliberation. She applied her own tests by further questioning, 
 seeking to assure herself both that the cause presented was sound 
 and that it fitted her program and her current resources for dona- 
 tions. There are delightful instances of spontaneous, swift deci- 
 sions, but almost always there was a background of knowledge, 
 or personal grounds for confidence. Normally it was her practice 
 to deliberate and to investigate. 
 
CJhap6er 12 
 THE CIRCLE WIDENS 
 
 
 HE year 1889 was a year of romance in this family, taking 
 two of Mrs. McCormick's children from her home, or adding two, 
 as one chooses to count the family effects of marriages. She her- 
 self was torn between these points of view. Her friends were com- 
 miserating with her and exhorting her to be brave, and she wrote 
 to one of them ". . . how it overcomes me to go about, among 
 the rooms & things, and places that have known my children dear, 
 all these years — and to see that all Cyrus' things are now all put 
 together, to take away! (Oh how hard that word is) — and to feel 
 that soon Anita's things will be all gathered together, oh, how can 
 I say it — to take away! I have just got to stop & sit down and cry 
 until I am almost blind." (How typical of her are the means of 
 diversion from her grief: "Then I get into the buggy and go down 
 to the Works to see the new steel reaper & binder all steel, to see to 
 things there that need attention. . . .") But though she wept she 
 was welcoming a new daughter and a new son with loving 
 warmth. 
 
 In the late winter Cyrus was married to Harriet Bradley Ham- 
 mond, a beautiful blonde girl, half English by blood and English- 
 born, who had lived with her aunt, Mrs. Edward Stickney in the 
 Rush Street neighborhood since she was twelve. The marriage 
 took place in California, where Mrs. Stickney was wintering for 
 her health. "To be married in California," Mrs. McCormick wrote 
 early in the consideration of plans, "would seem something like 
 being married in a foreign land which I never thought well for 
 Americans having position at home." But when she fully under- 
 stood the strength and nature of the reasons impelling the young 
 people to the choice, she abandoned her preference with affection- 
 ate grace. 
 
 i73 
 
1 74 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 Some weeks before the wedding, Mrs. McCormick went to Cal- 
 ifornia to seek a home for her invalid daughter — a wearying but 
 successful quest; and before the wedding day, the fifth of March, 
 the entire family was united at Monterey. 
 
 The marriage took place about two miles from Monterey in the 
 lovely little Episcopal Church of St. Mary's-by-the-Sea where the 
 Pacific gleamed through pines. "The bride in dress of white was 
 lovely," wrote Mrs. McCormick, "coming up the aisle leaning 
 upon the arm of her aunt, Mrs. Stickney; while Cyrus manly & 
 calm awaited them at the altar." The church was largely occupied 
 by a group of relatives and friends, many of them brought on from 
 the East by the bridegroom in a special car. His best man was a 
 cousin, Edward S. Adams from Chicago, and his sister, Anita 
 McCormick, was maid of honor. After "Mrs. Stickney's handsome 
 wedding breakfast," bride and groom started off in an open car- 
 riage with white-ribboned horses, Harold and Stanley accompany- 
 ing as outriders. 
 
 McCormick family affairs moved rapidly in the next few 
 months. Cyrus and his bride, returning from an idyllic honey- 
 moon, came home to 135 Rush Street and a large reception before 
 starting on a trip abroad. There were sad difficulties to be met in 
 the problem of caring for the invalid elder daughter. And romance 
 was blooming in the fife of the brilliant younger daughter, Anita. 
 Emmons Blaine, a son of the famous statesman, James G. Blaine, 
 had taken the lead among Anita McCormick's many admirers and 
 by early May had avowed his love. Anita's mother was reluctant 
 to give consent. Anita had had many suitors with no sign of more 
 than friendly interest, and her ardent response to this man had 
 taken her mother by surprise. Both she and her son Cyrus appear 
 to have been thunderstruck. Fragments of her writings, found 
 decades later, reveal that she told Emmons Blaine she doubted that 
 he could make Anita happy. He was a "clubman," as her father 
 and brother had never been; that appears to have been a strand 
 in her thought — he was different, worldly. She asked that the two 
 should not for a period of three months see each other. "It is fair 
 to ask it. A prudent mother would not fail to ask it." Once when 
 Mr. Blaine showed signs of taking the agreement lightly, she was 
 severe with him. "If, having business west of this," she wrote, "you 
 had gone to it by another way than Chicago I should have very 
 
THE CIRCLE WIDENS 1 75 
 
 greatly appreciated it." But she herself, as she felt she was entitled 
 to do, broke the agreement by inviting Emmons Blaine to visit 
 them at Richfield Springs. 
 
 But before that time, realizing the unchanging intensity of 
 Anita's love, she surrendered and sent for Emmons Blaine to come 
 to Rush Street. The outcome was that she warmly accepted Anita's 
 choice. "Oh, how different life seems to me!" she wrote to him, 
 "hoiv plainly I hear the melody that is weaving itself through the 
 harmonies of my darling child's life these days: I pause when I 
 think on what a height of happiness she stands in having the gift of 
 your love! And I am stilled into silence when I think of the gift 
 she gives to you — the entire love of a pure, strong heart! felt for 
 you, and toward you, every moment of life!" 
 
 In July the engagement was announced. The wedding date was 
 not set when Cyrus, accompanied by his wife, went to Europe in 
 connection with reaper trials. But suddenly at Richfield Springs 
 came decision — Anita's. The wedding would take place there 
 away from the "paraphernalia" and the publicity of a Chicago 
 affair, and it would take place in September. There was consterna- 
 tion in the camp of the McCormicks in Europe, for it seemed im- 
 portant to await the reaper awards. But business was somehow 
 adjusted, arrangements for trousseau and wedding proceeded, and 
 the whole family assembled at Clayton Lodge. 
 
 As the day approached, Richfield Springs lost its head in a happy 
 way and overrode the bride's wish for "moderation." On the eve- 
 ning before the wedding the friendly townsfolk illuminated their 
 houses and made Spring House Park and the main streets gay with 
 hundreds of Chinese lanterns. It was of course in compliment not 
 only to the McCormicks but also to James G. Blaine and his party, 
 who were staying at the Spring House. Up at the Lodge, filled 
 with other guests, the entrance archway in the famous arbor-vitae 
 hedge bore the words McCORMICK-BLAINE in red and blue 
 flowers. 
 
 The wedding was carefully keyed to a simplicity suitable for 
 the chosen country setting; but a rich simplicity nevertheless, ap- 
 propriate to the station of the families involved. The ceremony 
 took place at noon of September 26, a day on which the early 
 autumn beauty was dimmed by a downpour, in the little red brick 
 Presbyterian Church, pleasantly set among tall trees on a hill slope. 
 
176 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 Soft light from its stained glass fell on rich silks and waving plumes 
 as the guests gathered. On the stroke of twelve, preceded only by 
 four ushers, two of whom were her young brothers, the bride en- 
 tered on her brother Cyrus's arm, and walked — tall, graceful, in 
 exquisiteness of white satin and lace, of orange blossoms and lilies 
 of the valley — to the chancel where her bridegroom waited with 
 his brother Walker. A Chicago organist, William L. Tomlins, sup- 
 plied wedding music and the McCormicks' beloved minister at 
 Fourth Church, Chicago, Dr. Herrick Johnson, with the Richfield 
 Springs pastor, performed the ceremony. The bride's mother in 
 heavy black silk, her sister and their party, sat on one side in front 
 pews, with the Blaine family balancing them across the aisle. 
 
 A charming feature — remembered over the years by Richfield 
 Springs people — was the joyous pealing of the church bells as the 
 ceremony ended and the wedding party emerged to take carriages 
 for the breakfast and reception at Clayton Lodge. A profusion 
 of roses and orchids, and everywhere festoons of smilax, made a 
 background of beauty for the young couple as they stood to re- 
 ceive good wishes. And the guests — friends and relatives from all 
 over the country, many of national distinction, with Richfield 
 Springs friends too — had an opportunity to see well the lovely 
 Paris wedding gown of Valenciennes lace with its train of white 
 satin that was Mrs. McCormick's gift. They were served an elabo- 
 rate wedding breakfast from a table set with ingenious caterer's 
 novelties. 
 
 Presently the bride and groom had gone — in the private car that 
 village folk had seen arrive that morning from Utica — to their 
 honeymoon at the Blaine cottage in Bar Harbor. 
 
 The next time mother and daughter were together in that little 
 church at Richfield Springs, on a November Sunday in 1896, it 
 was to honor the memory of Emmons Blaine, who had died less 
 than three years after the marriage. To this church Mrs. Blaine had 
 given a fine pipe organ, exquisitely carved by Tiffany, adding 
 changes in chancel, glass, and other decorations to enhance the set- 
 ting. On the keyboard of the organ is this inscription: 
 
 "This organ is placed here to the memory of Emmons Blaine by 
 his wife Anita McCormick Blaine and in commemoration of their 
 marriage in this church September 26, 1889." 
 
 A considerable company of relatives and intimate friends jour- 
 
THE CIRCLE WIDENS I77 
 
 neyed to Richfield Springs for the beautiful ceremony of dedica- 
 tion. Walter Damrosch, a brother-in-law of Mr. Blaine, presided 
 at the organ in a service of great impressiveness. Mrs. Blaine, de- 
 clining to speak, gave her word in a note read by the pastor: 
 
 "May I, through you, formally offer to the Presbyterian Church 
 of Richfield Springs, the organ I placed within its walls in honor 
 of my husband, Emmons Blaine, to bear his name always in this 
 place so dear to us both, and in its uplifting strains to be a memorial 
 of his life. . . ." 
 
 This year of weddings was to contain other and very different 
 matters: a trying legal adjustment of the elder daughter's affairs, 
 which made the mother for the rest of her life a trustee for the be- 
 loved invalid, and the complicated, difficult final business phase of 
 the relations with Leander and Robert Hall McCormick. After 
 long negotiations, wherein Cyrus was the spokesman for his absent 
 mother, a deal was concluded for the purchase of the Leander 
 line's interests. It was a grave decision to make. "I feel its magni- 
 tude," Mrs. McCormick wrote, "its bearing on our interests for 
 weal or woe!" Even a prosperous business, as this was, might stag- 
 ger under an undertaking to pay the great sums that were in ques- 
 tion. Finally an agreement was signed whereby the Leander 
 McCormick family holdings were sold for $3,250,000— $600,000 
 to be paid in cash on the execution of the agreement and the rest 
 in five notes, the first payable in less than a year, the others at 
 yearly intervals. 
 
 When the papers were signed, Mrs. McCormick and Cyrus had 
 a sense of release from a long-borne burden, even though the new 
 load was heavy. There were to be anxiety and continual watchful- 
 ness. It may even be that the characteristic caution of Mrs. McCor- 
 mick's business course was partly the result of this prolonged 
 strain, with its background of fear that if they should fail the 
 Leander line might get the business her husband had founded. 
 
Onapifcer 15 
 
 THE BUSY NINETIES 
 
 I 
 
 N THE late eighties and the nineties Mrs. McCormick lived 
 much of the time in New York. Always seeking a way of life to 
 benefit her invalid daughter, she secured for Virginia a camp in 
 the Adirondacks and a house in New York, far up on the city's 
 northwest side, near the Hudson River. The mother took endless 
 pains in finding, buying, furnishing the house and then making the 
 plans that set up a household there, with a physician in charge; 
 endless pains in keeping that household rightly adjusted to her 
 daughter's needs. 
 
 On another account she was for the better part of two school 
 years, 1 8 89-1 891, a resident of New York. She took an apartment 
 on Madison Avenue, so that the two boys might attend the Brown- 
 ing School and remain under her eyes. (She had never thought 
 well of the separation of young children from parents, in boarding 
 schools away from home, and the feeling held for her sons even in 
 their upper teens.) They had been attending the University School 
 in Chicago and were enrolled for a course preparatory to entering 
 Princeton, when Mrs. McCormick learned of a project in New 
 York that appealed to her. John D. Rockefeller, Jr., then about 
 sixteen, had been withdrawn from school for a year for health rea- 
 sons and his parents had secured an excellent tutor, John A. 
 Browning, to teach him and his cousin Percy Rockefeller. Mrs. 
 McCormick knew of John Browning, she admired the Rockefel- 
 lers, and she asked to have her sons entered too. They were readily 
 accepted. At least two others, Howard and Everett Colby, joined 
 the group. 
 
 Now it happened that the Rockefeller back yard turned itself 
 into an impromptu skating rink in the winter to the delight of 
 
 178 
 
THE BUSY NINETIES 1 79 
 
 school and family; and this was the scene of the first meeting be- 
 tween Harold McCormick and Edith Rockefeller, who married a 
 few years later. 
 
 Throughout their schooling the "little boys," despite the two 
 and a half years' difference in their ages, moved together, though 
 Stanley, reserved and quiet, had a greater interest in books than 
 the active, sociable Harold and could have outstripped his brother. 
 "They had to run and find me in the morning and catch me for 
 school," Harold McCormick admitted, recalling his early years. 
 And at the Browning School he took pains to arrange a schedule 
 that left plenty of time for athletics. Both boys, for that matter, 
 became fairly expert at tennis and they were to play together — 
 "the McCormick brothers" — in many tournaments at Newport, 
 Saranac, Bar Harbor. It was just before they entered the Brown- 
 ing School that a newspaper referred to them as "a melange of 
 tennis flannels, caps, tan shoes, racquets and activity, bright eyes 
 and tanned cheeks." Both fine looking, they were unlike in type — 
 Harold sturdier than Stanley, who was very tall and had his moth- 
 er's delicate beauty. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick's life in these two years was not, it appears, 
 one of social activity. For that matter, whether in Chicago or New 
 York, though she entered into social fife as much as her position 
 required, society had little emphasis among her many interests. 
 Now she saw close friends of earlier days — Mrs. Sullivan, Mrs. 
 Potts, whom she had known at Genesee Wesleyan as Helen Hard, 
 and others — and attended the Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church. 
 But it was a quiet life, much interrupted by trips to Chicago, and 
 fully occupied with the concerns of the family, the business, and 
 philanthropies. There were visits to her daughter Mrs. Blaine dur- 
 ing the months that she lived in Baltimore, especially a Christmas 
 visit that included a brilliant dinner at the home in Washington of 
 James G. Blaine, then Secretary of State, where at dessert time 
 President Harrison and his daughter, Mrs. McKee, joined the party. 
 
 In the first summer of this New York period Mrs. McCormick, 
 accompanied by her brother, Eldridge Fowler, took the two 
 young boys for a summer abroad — London, the English Lakes, 
 the Trossachs, Edinburgh — a trip that began beautifully but 
 was halted by Stanley's suffering an eye infection. Mrs. McCor- 
 mick improved the period of his convalescence by taking a new 
 
I 80 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 treatment for her hearing, with little if any success. Meanwhile 
 Harold pursued tennis on the Continent, later joining his uncle 
 and Stanley in the delights of climbing Swiss mountains and visit- 
 ing Italian lakes. 
 
 Before Mrs. McCormick returned she was a grandmother by 
 grace of the arrival of McCormick (later to be renamed Emmons) 
 Blaine, born in his mother's beloved childhood home on Rush 
 Street. Three weeks later, when she was back in Chicago, the 
 proud title was conferred again through the birth of Cyrus 
 McCormick, first child of Cyrus and Harriet. She lamented her 
 absence during this summer; but the trip had been planned in the 
 interests of the "little boys," and the plan held. 
 
 All through the year 1890, wherever she was, Mrs. McCormick 
 gave much time and thought to a project for consolidation of har- 
 vesting machine companies. This was the second time she had been 
 involved in a projected combination, not to count the times when 
 consolidation was only discussed. In 1883, before Mr. McCor- 
 mick's death but after his wife had taken on increased responsibil- 
 ity in his affairs, there was a movement to unite the manufacturers 
 of twine-binding harvesting machinery. A meeting was held at 
 Niagara Falls and a committee was appointed to carry on. Mrs. 
 McCormick sought the opinion of Mr. E. K. Butler, already im- 
 portant in the company and later to be its general manager. Mr. 
 Butler feared that in a consolidation his company would be fet- 
 tered in production, prices, management. Mrs. McCormick her- 
 self felt uncertain on this "knotty subject," and sent Cyrus off 
 to negotiate without definite directions. 
 
 But presently she explained the whole thing to her husband, and 
 the upshot was that she telegraphed to her son, awaiting decision, 
 the message that "Father self think can't enter combination," and 
 to Mr. Butler, more lightly, "We will go it alone." A day or two 
 later she said that she was "breathing easier. . . . We cannot go 
 into a partnership like that. For we would practically be tied hand 
 and foot." 
 
 Now, seven years later, another consolidation plan on a much 
 larger scale absorbed attention. Actually the American Harvester 
 Company was formed but it never functioned and died an early 
 death. This was a project launched by Colonel A. L. Conger, pres- 
 ident of the Whitman & Barnes Manufacturing Company of 
 
THE BUSY NINETIES l8l 
 
 Akron, Ohio, from whom the harvesting machine companies 
 bought knives and cutting sections. Wishing to preserve his own 
 little industry, Conger approached a number of companies, both 
 big and little, and induced them to agree to a consolidation, each 
 setting a price on his own business and property. The one sound 
 idea back of this scheme was the realization of danger in the fierce 
 competition raging throughout the industry. 
 
 Though keenly aware of the perilous state of the reaper busi- 
 ness, Mrs. McCormick was certainly not favorable to the new 
 project. She dreaded "the consideration of what Conger is patch- 
 ing up," and urged that Cyrus and her brother should at least "be 
 in at the first hatching of the scheme." Particularly she objected 
 to taking in so many firms; eighteen were listed finally. Including 
 the four largest was all that Mrs. McCormick had cared to con- 
 template. 
 
 Nevertheless she did not block the plan. The negotiations went 
 forward during the summer, Cyrus, who was enthusiastic, keeping 
 her informed. At various times Eldridge Fowler and Emmons 
 Blaine shared in the consultations, and when Mrs. McCormick re- 
 turned from abroad she joined in, coming sometimes from New 
 York to Chicago apparently for that purpose. She attended at least 
 one of the organization meetings when about twenty-five of the 
 reaper men gathered in the Grand Pacific Hotel on a corner of 
 Jackson Boulevard and Clark Street. She met them all and talked 
 with them about the proposed company. It was one of this group, 
 Mr. J. J. Glessner of Warder, Bushnell & Glessner, who said many 
 years later that she knew the machine business as well as any of 
 them. 
 
 Mr. Conger accepted the valuations without appraisal. And in 
 November 1890 the American Harvester Company was organized 
 with Cyrus H. McCormick as president and E. K. Butler as gen- 
 eral manager. But grievous objections soon began to develop. 
 Cyrus McCormick, elder son of Cyrus H. McCormick, names 
 them in his account of this venture in The Century of the Reaper: 
 "It soon became a matter of interesting inquiry how the new com- 
 pany was to find money to pay the fantastic valuations. . . . 
 There was also immediate and widespread public opposition to 
 this 'trust' as being an effort to flout the recently passed Sherman 
 Law. It was also whispered about in the office that the widow of 
 
182 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 the late inventor of the reaper would not willingly see his name 
 submerged in the new company. Finally, there was no operating 
 plan nor, most disastrous of all, was there any operating capital." * 
 
 By Christmas Mrs. McCormick was heavy-hearted about the 
 whole business and told her mind to her son, her brother, her 
 son-in-law, and to Mr. Butler. "Oh Mrs. McCormick," Mr. Butler 
 replied, "I am so sick of this thing. It looks dark enough to me I 
 tell you you saw further than any of us into the difficulties of this 
 combine. Your words of objection ring in my ears all the time." 
 She talked with William Deering too. "I said to Mr. Deering that 
 Christmas was a blue day with me — that the outlook was discour- 
 aging and ... I was sorry I ever went into the combine and that 
 if I had it to do over again I would not go into the combine. He 
 replied neither would I . . . but he straightened up & looked at 
 the bright side." 
 
 Apparently Mrs. McCormick saw no bright side. She herself 
 formulated "A plan for the peaceable dissolution of the American 
 Harvester Company," calling for a meeting of all the harvester 
 men involved and a setting forth of difficulties and dangers. Each 
 was to be asked to sign a paper withdrawing from the combine and 
 accepting $10,000 as balm. 
 
 Presumedly this plan did not come to light. Events moved fast 
 at the turn of the year, making it unnecessary. Mr. Deering 
 appears suddenly to have seen the dark side. There are various ac- 
 counts of the way in which he reached the point of belief and 
 action. Perhaps the most convincing is Harold McCormick's mem- 
 ory that Mr. Deering finally went to Mrs. McCormick and told her 
 definitely that he would not have anything more to do with the 
 project. Of course he met no resistance. Official action followed 
 shortly. Early in 1891 a legal opinion was given to the effect that 
 the consolidation was not legal anyhow, but "contrary to law and 
 public policy." 
 
 As for Mrs. McCormick, unquestionably her objections to the 
 plan were sound, practical considerations; but beneath these was 
 her deep reluctance, repeatedly shown, to sink the name McCor- 
 mick under another company name. She wrote to Harold: "Dear 
 boy I recall with a tender feeling your emotion at the thought of 
 
 1 Cyrus McCormick, The Century of the Reaper, Boston and New York, 
 Houghton Mifflin Company, 1931, p. 108. 
 
THE BUSY NINETIES 1 83 
 
 losing our prestige — our name our identity — Now you have it all 
 back Harold." 
 
 Harold and Stanley entered Princeton together in the fall of 
 1 89 1, starting under the amusing disadvantage of having too many 
 advantages. Their older brother was a trustee, their mother was a 
 friend of the president. The boys had the only room on the 
 campus open to freshmen, the rest rooming in houses outside. As 
 if that weren't enough to draw unwelcome publicity, their mother 
 was at that time a guest in the home of former President McCosh 
 and the boys visited her there. Not unnaturally their movements 
 involved a pretty steady running of the sophomore gauntlet, with 
 attendant indignities, including the plucking forth of shirt tails. All 
 of this fell more heavily on Harold, whose resentment was more 
 freely expressed. As far as possible the two kept their lovely 
 mother in happy ignorance of their sufferings. A boyish reminder 
 of their devotion to her is a prayer which came to light among her 
 papers. It is dated February 12, 1892: 
 
 "Wilt Thou bless & keep our dear mother and may she enjoy 
 many happy years with us. May she not worry about us at college, 
 but may we do always what is right and leave college as much a 
 Christian as we entered it, taking as our example our own dear 
 father." 
 
 As soon as they were launched, Mrs. McCormick returned to 
 Chicago, to a house now empty of her children, except that Anita 
 and Emmons Blaine with their little son were occupying it tem- 
 porarily. Mr. Blaine had changed his business base to Chicago and 
 they were looking for a house in Lake Forest or Evanston. Mean- 
 while Mr. Blaine had gone north in his father's campaign for the 
 presidential nomination at the Republican convention held in early 
 June at Minneapolis. James G. Blaine had resigned his high post 
 as Secretary of State to make this final contest for the presidency. 
 The effort failed; Harrison was nominated. On June 13 Emmons 
 Blaine returned to Rush Street much worn and strained. Appendi- 
 citis — little understood then — struck, and in a few tense days de- 
 feated all the efforts of doctors, nurse, devoted wife, and her anx- 
 ious mother. On June 18 Emmons Blaine died. 
 
 Through the desolate time that followed Anita Blaine bravely 
 carried on her life, now centered in the adorable two-year-old who 
 was presently called by his father's name. 
 
1 84 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 That summer she took the boy to Bar Harbor. Here Mr. and 
 Mrs. James G. Blaine had their summer home, Stanwood; and Mrs. 
 McCormick spent some time with her daughter and the little 
 grandson, eager to give whatever comfort and strength her pres- 
 ence might bring. In an unaddressed writing of hers she pictures 
 them — the baby "enjoying the freedom he has to range through 
 these tiny rooms from parlor to kitchen drawing his little wagon 
 — the grassy lawn only just a step down from the porch and Miss 
 Hammond & I happy to watch him. Soon his dear mother came to 
 him & they were such a happy pair, alike dressed in white, and 
 having good times together in mutual enjoyment — she feeling the 
 meaning of the day — playing with — and anon pressing him to her 
 heart." 
 
 "The day" was the boy's second birthday and the day of his 
 christening — a sweet, sad scene at Stanwood. It is described in that 
 writing just quoted — an informal, interlined writing: 
 
 "Anita herself arrays him in his simple white dress, with her 
 own tender hand placing on him his father's beautiful pearl . . . 
 and taking him with her in the carriage off they drove . . . Miss 
 Hammond & I following in another carriage. 
 
 "On arriving at Stanwood the devoted grandparents received 
 these two dear ones with . . . hearts too full for words. 
 
 "The very few friends invited because of nearness to dear 
 Emmons soon arrived and the entire party assembled in the draw- 
 ing room all standing. At once Anita entered with baby in her arms 
 — quiet but noticing all that passed and Dr. Harris began the sacred 
 ceremony by reading the words our Saviour had spoken concern- 
 ing little children . . . then as Dr. Harris began his prayer and 
 he [Baby] saw Mrs. Blaine cover her eyes with her hand he said 
 Grandma cry and indeed the tears of woe did flow from the eyes 
 of this sorrowing heartbroken mother. 2 
 
 "During the whole prayer he was quiet in his mothers arms 
 — and how sad a figure it was — these two — standing there the 
 mother there alone to accept for this dear child the promises & 
 obligations implied in baptism. 
 
 "When Dr. Harris put the water on his head and pronounced 
 the baptismal ceremony baby observed in silence every motion. 
 
 3 Three of her children — Walker, Alice (Mrs. Coppinger), Emmons— had died 
 within two and a half years. 
 
THE BUSY NINETIES 1 85 
 
 When this was all done & the ceremony over Anita set him down 
 on the floor & several came to take him by the hand and speak to 
 him, which did not disconcert him. Then Mr. Blaine who had 
 through the ceremony seemed almost overwhelmed with emotion, 
 & was leaning with head bowed on the mantel, brought a little high 
 silver covered book with clasp ... and had all the witnesses in- 
 scribe their names." 
 
 There was a charming interlude in that autumn, of interest be- 
 cause it shows a lighter side of Mrs. McCormick's nature. She made 
 a long-planned visit to Island Lake Camp, far up in the northwest- 
 ern corner of Wisconsin. This bit of wilderness, of pines and white 
 birch and sparkling water, forty miles from a post office and ten 
 miles from anywhere, was owned jointly for several years by Dr. 
 William C. Gray, editor of the Interior, and the McCormicks. It 
 was Dr. Gray's find and Dr. Gray sang its praises in print. But 
 the McCormicks loved it too, and long years after Dr. Gray's 
 death they held these acres of forest and lake for occasional happy 
 visits and for the use of Company employees, Seminary professors, 
 and others in need of rest, recreation, solitude. 
 
 This fall, as Dr. Gray drove Mrs. McCormick in, he told her 
 gravely that people who lived at the island were required to pay 
 their way in work. She approved at once and inquired what man- 
 ner of work would be assigned to her. The answer was gathering 
 blueberries at the rate of ten cents a quart. She accepted the terms 
 and the task, and in a few days Mrs. Gray took her in a buckboard 
 about six miles through the woods to a valley that was fairly sky- 
 blue with berries. As she sprang out of the carriage she stood gaz- 
 ing about her in amazement, then called for a basket and began 
 gathering the berries in handfuls, stopping at intervals to admire 
 fine bunches of great ferns. The guide was directed not to lose 
 sight of her for a moment, lest, unable to hear voices, she might be 
 lost. Soon she and Mrs. Gray each had a heaping basket, and Mrs. 
 Gray mindful of the pitchy dark of woods on a moonless night 
 said they should start back. "What," exclaimed Mrs. McCormick, 
 waving an arm about the scene, "and leave all these blueberries?" 
 
 Arrived at camp she called for a measure, passed over five heap- 
 ing quarts, and stood waiting for her pay. But Dr. Gray invented 
 all sorts of evasions, said the berries were not marketable and, in 
 his own words, "played the cheat and the rascal." As she retired 
 
1 86 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 she said she did not see how a man could sleep who was trying to 
 cheat a poor blueberry woman out of her wages. 
 
 Next morning, as Dr. Gray sat by the camp fire, he was seized 
 by two pairs of stalwart hands that began hustling him down the 
 path. "We have decided to impose imprisonment for debt and in- 
 tend to lock you up in the root house," said the voice of one of 
 Mrs. McCormick's young sons. Dr. Gray yielded, "and Mrs. 
 McCormick, with an air of satisfied justice but without a smile, 
 said 'I know how to deal with such characters,' " and took her 
 fifty-cent piece. She afterward had one side of Mrs. Gray's coin 
 planed off, suitably inscribed, set in a mat of blue velvet, and sent 
 to Mrs. Gray as a souvenir. 
 
 Another incident of those days at the camp is of a different 
 order. Near the center of the camp was a great torch, invisible 
 from the lake because of the dense foliage; when it was lighted at 
 night the Island appeared to be self-luminous, and the bright light 
 striking on one side of the plumy foliage, while the other side was 
 invisible in the darkness, produced a strange effect. "The first 
 night that was overcast and wholly dark," Dr. Gray wrote, "Mrs. 
 Gray invited Mrs. McCormick to allow herself to be taken out in 
 a boat, and she consented. She enjoyed the unique spectacle, and 
 then as we floated in the dark she began, in a sweet voice, to sing. 
 The songs were old, and by the present living are forgotten. I said 
 to Mrs. Gray, 'She has drifted back to her girlhood.' When she 
 ceased I leaned back and was able to make her understand. 'I have 
 not heard those songs for more than forty years.' 'Nor have I sung 
 them before for more than forty years,' she said. To one who 
 could appreciate it, this was a singularly fine incident. We were 
 afloat under a black sky upon black water, and before us the quite 
 peculiar spectacle of the torch light upon the pines. I thought it 
 was the illuminated forest that had carried her thoughts back to 
 scenes similarly illuminated by the light of joy and hope, far back 
 in her memory." 
 
 The next summer was to bring an intensive experience as hos- 
 tess — the summer of the World's Columbian Exposition. Like all 
 prominent Chicagoans Mrs. McCormick was committed to it, 
 deeply interested in the preparations. Months before the opening, 
 she began planning a program that would give as many people as 
 possible an opportunity to visit the white wonder city by the lake. 
 
THE BUSY NINETIES 1 87 
 
 Five guest rooms were made ready and a schedule was worked 
 out. Friends and relatives from New York City, Virginia, Rich- 
 field Springs, and Jefferson County were invited and many came. 
 With great care she planned each day's trip for each guest who 
 cared for help, and in the evening after dinner she would go from 
 group to group, getting their impressions. She herself attended on 
 various days, but little record has been found of her own special 
 interests. She must have kept an eye on the McCormick Harvest- 
 ing Machine Company's exhibit, including a gold plated and a 
 silver plated machine. 
 
 Much stress was placed on entertaining the young sons' friends. 
 Harold at any rate was concerned that the McCormicks should 
 put their best foot forward. Before leaving Princeton he urged the 
 preparation of guest rooms, paving the drive, provision of a trap, 
 and the employment of a butler (Mrs. McCormick usually had a 
 housekeeper) of good appearance, who could also serve as a valet 
 "to keep the fellows' clothes in condition." His mother met most 
 of his wishes, though a victoria took the place of the desired trap. 
 
 Among her entertainments of that summer was a reception to 
 the members and friends of the Emma Willard Association. This 
 organization, which held together the former pupils of Troy 
 Female Seminary, had a headquarters and an exhibit at the Exposi- 
 tion. Mrs. McCormick probably could not do all they asked in the 
 way of committee work, but she did give them a beautiful party. 
 The house was fragrant with pink carnations and sweet peas, re- 
 flecting the Association's color. There was soft music. Refresh- 
 ments were served by "lovely young girls in dreamy gowns" (thus 
 the Association's ecstatic report); and Mrs. McCormick offered a 
 charming welcome to all comers. 
 
 Concerning the total of her activities at this busy, thrilling time 
 a fragmentary bit of writing records: "Such a succession of im- 
 pressions and definite and careful attention to persons and things 
 as I have gone through these weeks makes one dizzy." 
 
 Mrs. McCormick was among those who advocated allowing 
 Dwight L. Moody to preach on the grounds — a proposal that was 
 refused. Finding no space open to him there, Mr. Moody organ- 
 ized a vast network of meetings in Chicago. He and his helpers — 
 including several foreign evangelists — spoke in theatres, halls, 
 tents, hotel parlors, gospel wagons to the number at one time of a 
 
1 88 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 hundred and twenty-five meeting places. These were strategically 
 chosen, located not only on the prairies near the Fair grounds but 
 also in unchurched areas throughout the city. On two Sunday 
 mornings Mr. Moody filled the ten thousand capacity of Fore- 
 paugh's circus tent. There was every conceivable kind of gospel 
 meeting for men, women, children, prisoners, and all the racial 
 groups. Mrs. McCormick's approval of this campaign was spoken 
 clearly in words, checkbook, attendance. She was very active on a 
 day that Mr. Moody said was "the grandest day Chicago ever 
 had." From the wings she looked out on the Moody service in the 
 Haymarket Theatre, crowded from pit to dome; afterward she 
 took Mr. Moody home and then at his request conducted Adolph 
 Stoecker, German court preacher who was one of Mr. Moody's 
 staff of foreign speakers, to his service at the Central Music Hall. 
 Enthusiastic, she stayed for the later part of the service, conducted 
 in German for Germans. And she was so impressed with the power 
 of these meetings that she sent Mr. Moody an extra check for 
 $2500 after they ended. 
 
 She attended the Fair on that last tragic day when Mayor Harri- 
 son was assassinated. "What a great and awful calamity," she 
 wrote. "How we pause in our brave statements about the glory 
 and magnificence of this great city which has made the Fair! . . . 
 
 "The Fair closed as a rainy day closes — in silence and gloom! 
 
 "I was there yesterday — some of those pleasant avenues are 
 filled with railroad tracks; — vast quantities of goods have already 
 been packed up & the Fair has already vanished! 
 
 "The sunset was beautiful, though, and the buildings still stand 
 in their magnificence." 
 
 Early in the nineties romance was abloom again. The warm 
 friendship that developed between Edith Rockefeller and Harold 
 McCormick flowered before long into love. As soon as the first 
 tender buds became visible, Mrs. McCormick nourished the plant 
 with all diligence. She was delighted when a telegram from Harold 
 late in the May before his graduation told of the engagement by 
 calling "yesterday" the happiest day of his life. The ardent attach- 
 ment promised happiness for her adored son and she was very fond 
 of the girl he had chosen — "Edith, whom I have loved all these 
 years like my own child," she wrote ecstatically. 
 
 In addition Mrs. McCormick was undoubtedly attracted by the 
 
THE BUSY NINETIES 1 89 
 
 prospect of an alliance between outstanding families. For Mr. 
 Rockefeller Senior she maintained consistently the greatest respect, 
 unclouded by any of the criticism that was sometimes his portion. 
 She felt a congeniality with the family in religious and other mat- 
 ters. During his first visit at Cleveland as Edith's fiance, Harold 
 wrote to his mother: "I have so much to tell you of the home life 
 of the family — a life directed on lines exactly parallel to those of 
 your belief." 
 
 The engagement was announced early in June. Harold and 
 Stanley were graduated from Princeton with Harold's betrothed 
 and his mother proudly admiring. "In our circle," Mrs. McCor- 
 mick wrote, "the chief interest has centered upon the three 
 younger ones — Harold, Edith and Stanley — the devotion, mod- 
 estly shown, of Harold and Edith, — the incidents of the closing 
 of Harold and Stanley's college life — the moment of their going 
 up with others, to receive their diplomas from the hand of Presi- 
 dent Patton — all these are the chief things in the picture for me. 
 . . . How dear and precious our boys seemed at that moment, and 
 how their faces reflected the hope that dwells in young hearts. 
 How precious it seemed to have my boys lay their diploma into 
 my hand as the culmination of my long effort for their educa- 
 tion!" 
 
 Three days later Mrs. McCormick, accompanied by Anna Chap- 
 man, a great-niece of her husband, her friend Mrs. Sullivan, her 
 son Stanley, and a nurse — for she was not well — sailed for a sum- 
 mer abroad. On the advice of Dr. S. Weir Mitchell, Mrs. McCor- 
 mick took the "cure" at Contrexeville, France, persuading a sur- 
 prised resident, who had no thought of renting, to yield most of 
 her house for the McCormick party, but giving her a new porch 
 in the process — an incident characteristic of Mrs. McCormick's 
 ability to get what she wanted. 
 
 After about two weeks at the resort Stanley returned to Paris, 
 bound for the study of art. Undoubtedly he had a flair for paint- 
 ing and he had studied a little. Before the party left Paris for 
 Contrexeville, his mother had been aware of his keen interest in 
 developing his talent. They had become acquainted with some 
 American art students and on Mrs. McCormick's own suggestion 
 had visited Julien's studio, gathering information about arrange- 
 ments. Stanley had wished to begin work at once but yielded to 
 
190 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 his mother's wish that he take the waters first. His ambition held. 
 His mother, though sympathetic with it, consented to his return 
 only after she had assured herself of his safety in a pension con- 
 ducted by an American woman who was making a home for her 
 student son. "It was now or never with Stan as to his taking any 
 lessons in drawing from those who know how to teach it," she said. 
 Apparently the thought had not occurred to her that his deepest 
 wish might be to continue the life of an artist. 
 
 After Contrexeville came happy days in and about Interlaken 
 and Lucerne and in Austria — delightful drives, in a great carriage 
 with the driver's seat high aloft. These were gay, light-hearted 
 trips — long days through glorious scenery, nights at primitive little 
 inns with large courtyards — light-hearted even before the happy 
 Harold, newly arrived from home, joined the party. Part of the 
 time after that Harold followed along on a bicycle, part of the 
 time his mother and he drove alone, while Mrs. Sullivan and Anna 
 Chapman were Mrs. McCormick's enraptured guests on a trip by 
 themselves into Italy. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick stayed longer than originally planned for the 
 sake of Stanley's study. Stanley himself debated the wish to stay 
 (". . . there is nothing which I should rather do than to pursue 
 art here this winter") against the thought that he should get in a 
 law course as a preparation for "relieving Brother" in the business 
 as soon as possible. Finally there was a postponement of the law 
 course and Stanley studied until a late sailing. 
 
 In Paris mother and sons were engrossed in the choice of emer- 
 alds to be the bridegroom's gift to his bride and planning Mrs. 
 McCormick's own gown, a matter into which the whole family 
 entered. It marked a departure from the usual black, a lovely soft 
 gray silk brocade. 
 
 The wedding took place shortly after their return, on Novem- 
 ber 26th. Not, however, at the Fifth Avenue Baptist Church as the 
 invitations read but in the McCormicks' hotel apartment. Harold 
 was a convalescent from pleurisy and his physician forbade him to 
 go out. So the apartment was decorated with flowers and palms, 
 the guests were notified, and, as Mrs. McCormick described it to 
 friends: 
 
 "The wedding took place at the exact hour named, with all 
 the joy and brightness that could possibly have attended the first 
 
THE BUSY NINETIES 191 
 
 arranged plan. And there was the added joy of feeling that Har- 
 old was safe. 
 
 "Edith came, wearing her plain but handsome wedding gown of 
 white satin, with the point lace veil her sister wore at her mar- 
 riage, accompanied by her father, into the parlor where Harold 
 accompanied by Stanley was awaiting her. The ceremony was 
 most impressive . . . and the bridal pair looked so handsome and 
 so happy when receiving the hearty congratulations of those pres- 
 ent. 
 
 "At the appointed time all, except Harold, went to the bride's 
 home, where she, with her father by her side, under the canopy of 
 flowers, received hundreds who came to offer their congratula- 
 tions. This, too, was a beautiful scene, and Edith was most coura- 
 geous, feeling keenly not having Harold at her side yet feeling 
 there was nothing else right to do but to receive the guests: — and 
 she stood there calm, and sweet, and dignified until all the guests 
 had been received. 
 
 "Then she put on her going-away dress, and, leaving her bridal 
 bouquet with her brides-maids, returned to the apartments at the 
 Buckingham (from which I had moved out, leaving the suite to 
 the young people) — and they commenced their little housekeeping 
 there, on their own hook and so all ended well." 
 
FAMILY OF TWO 
 
 OON after the McCormick-Rockefeller wedding was over 
 Mrs. McCormick and her only child still at home had their special 
 time together. She and her son Stanley turned straight back to 
 Europe, sailing in less than a fortnight for Italy on the way to 
 Egypt. The particular object of the trip was to build up Stanley's 
 health. 
 
 There followed a time of as complete relaxation as Mrs. McCor- 
 mick had ever known — a luxurious voyage of several weeks in 
 a chartered dahabeah, from Minieh up the Nile to Assouan and 
 back. The party included only Mrs. McCormick, Stanley, a 
 physician-companion, and a maid. Their boat, the Sesostris, offered 
 the comfort of a deck fitted up like a drawing room, where they 
 spent long hours in the sun watching the shifting panorama of the 
 great river highway of Egypt and its colorful banks, Stanley 
 sometimes taking time away from the boat to sketch. They visited 
 massive ruins, Roman and Egyptian. Of Karnak, "which held our 
 interest most warmly," Mrs. McCormick wrote in a journal (the 
 only resumption of journal writing after 1878): "I cannot describe 
 the wonder and the admiration I felt in seeing the hypostyle hall — 
 the most lofty and the largest room in the world. While I stood 
 there in the forest of columns, 128 it is said, I tried in vain to realize 
 what forty centuries meant." 
 
 At Assiut Mrs. McCormick visited schools in which she saw hope 
 for Egypt — a story to be told in the account of her foreign mission 
 interests. 
 
 They were in Cairo when five ancient boats, shortly before 
 found buried together near the Great Pyramid, arrived. As soon 
 as it was known that the Egyptian Government would part with 
 one, Mrs. McCormick bought it for the Field Museum. 
 
 192 
 
FAMILY OF TWO 1 93 
 
 After Egypt Mrs. McCormick and Stanley spent a happy time 
 with the bride and groom, Harold and Edith, in Rome and for a 
 climax they took "a little Alpine experience," with Paris as jour- 
 ney's end. Leaving by way of Milan, they crossed Lake Maggiore 
 at a perfect hour, in a perfection of light, and traveled onward by 
 carriage through an "endless panorama" of mountain beauty — 
 "every way the most superlatively fine journey we ever took." 
 
 For about two months and a half they stayed in Paris while 
 Stanley took singing lessons under a fine master. It was an ambi- 
 tion that his mother endorsed because, aside from cultivating a 
 good voice, it would tend to widen his chest and develop his lungs 
 — "a matter of supreme importance to him." She stayed with him, 
 happily. But she could not face his remaining without her. After 
 the weeks of study they took another driving and walking tour 
 (not much walking for Mrs. McCormick) in Swiss mountains. At 
 Martigny Stanley fell ill, so ill that they remained for weeks. With 
 convalescence his ambition to resume singing lessons and — a far 
 deeper ambition — to study art returned strongly. His mother ad- 
 mired his purpose — " 'Live a semi-loafing life at 135 Rush St., I 
 cannot, Mother,' he says, and for this we should honor him." But 
 when he said that if she must go home he could still stay, she 
 showed deep hurt. "I did not think during those nights of fever 
 that he could possibly feel that sentiment. ... I thought at that 
 time that we should be in accord on the subject of soon going 
 home together." She was fearful of the Paris winter, but when 
 Stanley asks how much better is Chicago in that regard she "can- 
 not answer that, except to say that it would be home and among 
 his dear ones, and that is a good deal." 
 
 The outcome, through whatever arguments the path led, was 
 that Stanley sailed for home with his mother. But even before they 
 left she wrote to Cyrus, who had urged his brother's return, that 
 Stanley had a plan, formed on the impulse of letters from home 
 which had helped to clear his vision and deepen his own convic- 
 tions. She believed he had clung to the idea of art study and sing- 
 ing for his health, and that idea had passed. She was probably 
 wrong about that. Though health was a factor in his study of 
 singing and he had no thought of a musical career, it appears that 
 a conflict continued between his urge to be an artist and his sense 
 of responsibility to the family business — a conflict that physi- 
 
194 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 cians were later to feel contributed to bringing on mental illness. 
 
 As for the plan it was no doubt the purchase of a Western ranch 
 of high altitude where he could improve his health and at the same 
 time have satisfying occupation for a time. Eventually, but not at 
 once, he carried out this plan. 
 
 Again in Chicago Mrs. McCormick resumed full control of the 
 many-stranded interests awaiting her. Much had happened, much 
 lay before her. Mrs. Blaine and her young son were installed in the 
 fine house she had been building when her mother left, its front 
 windows looking out across Erie Street on to the south windows 
 and lawn of her old home. Harold McCormick was definitely in 
 the business now. He and his wife had set up housekeeping in 
 Council Bluffs, Iowa, where he was learning the agency end of his 
 father's and his own life work. 
 
 The first household of Edith and Harold drew much of Mrs. 
 McCormick's loving thought, all the more when a few weeks after 
 her return their first child was born — the fifth in her grand- 
 motherly quiverful. Now there were Cyrus and Elizabeth and 
 Gordon in her eldest son's household, Emmons in Mrs. Blaine's, 
 John Rockefeller in Harold and Edith's, with Fowler, Muriel, 
 Editha, Mathilde in the future. She was a fond and devoted grand- 
 mother, always concerned about the children's well-being, perhaps 
 a shade too visibly at times; always ready to step in when she could 
 help; always adored by them, little or larger. 
 
 Many business matters, especially those of shared family inter- 
 est, had been referred to Mrs. McCormick abroad and she had 
 given her vote or her decision by letter or cable. Among these was 
 a family decision to endow the chair of jurisprudence at Princeton 
 as the McCormick contribution to that university's sesquicenten- 
 nial fund. Cyrus was strongly for it particularly because the chair 
 was already occupied by his brilliant classmate, Woodrow Wilson. 
 The gift was made in the name of "Mrs. McCormick and her sons," 
 endowing the chair which was to be occupied by Woodrow 
 Wilson until he became president of Princeton in 1910. Mrs. 
 McCormick was always his warm admirer and friend. When he 
 was President of the United States she used to send him clippings 
 that she thought he should see, and always she received courteous 
 notes of thanks. During his presidency of Princeton, he was once 
 Mrs. McCormick's guest at her home, and Fletcher Brockman, a 
 
FAMILY OF TWO 1 95 
 
 Young Men's Christian Association leader, also a guest, recalled 
 his impression of "these two master minds discussing the great 
 questions of the day. I could readily observe," he continued, "that 
 Wilson had profound respect for her opinions, and he spoke with 
 an unaccustomed enthusiasm and lack of reserve. . . . She seemed 
 almost his equal in her grasp of the implications, although this 
 came out more by her searching questions to him than by her own 
 statements." 
 
 A formidable pile of applications for aid awaited the returned 
 travelers. And the procession of earnest callers began to move up 
 and down the Rush Street steps again. Letters and callers disclosed 
 progress or need in various institutions that Mrs. McCormick 
 was already helping, and other causes presented their pleas. Even 
 excluding the widely known leaders who came, there were always 
 spokesmen for hospitals, homes for children, homes for women — 
 erring, aged, or otherwise — schools, colleges, evangelistic missions, 
 settlements, ministers of several denominations, and a hundred and 
 one agencies for relief and betterment. 
 
 Looking at Chicago alone, a few stand out in the procession of 
 those who in these late nineties came and received — not always 
 largely, but with the sympathetic interest that was so marked a 
 characteristic of Mrs. McCormick's giving. 
 
 There was the frail, devoted Mrs. Clarke of the historic Pacific 
 Garden Mission (not far from "Hinky Dink's" saloon), who, shar- 
 ing the work with her husband until his death and then carrying 
 on alone, spent something like thirty-nine years of nightly working 
 attendance at the Mission. Years later Mrs. McCormick was to say: 
 "Once it was so that visitors staying at our home felt that they had 
 not really seen Chicago until they had spent an hour with the great 
 work of those heavenly ministers of goodness, Colonel and Mrs. 
 Clarke." 
 
 There was Mrs. Matilda B. Carse of the Woman's Christian 
 Temperance Union, who spoke for several of its activities — day 
 nurseries, homes for women, kindergarten, and the famous 
 Temple. Mrs. McCormick helped irregularly with the Union's 
 rescue missions and nurseries from an early day. Her papers dis- 
 close no gift to the Temple — that beautiful structure, with the fine 
 idea behind it of focusing temperance activities and financing a 
 business building at the same time. It went up, but it was finan- 
 
196 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 cially disappointing. Mrs. McCormick's course between a large 
 conditional pledge and the closing of the subject without her con- 
 tribution is not wholly clear. One suspects the influence of her son 
 Cyrus, the business man. 
 
 In the late nineties Norman B. Barr entered the picture, keeping 
 Mrs. McCormick in close touch with developments at Olivet 
 Memorial Church. This undertaking in the lower North Side river 
 district was an outgrowth of city mission work commenced by 
 McCormick Theological Seminary students which she had aided 
 long before Mr. Barr's time — first as a mission, then as a Presby- 
 terian church. It served a population largely of foreign working 
 people — Scandinavian, German, Irish — living on very low wages 
 in little primitive frame houses hurriedly built just after the Chi- 
 cago Fire. Early its leaders had become convinced that the 
 approach to these needy people must be by direct, personal aid. 
 Kindergarten and day nursery were first steps and steps that Mrs. 
 McCormick approved. But institutional work was not popular 
 with presbyteries at that time and the going was hard. For a year 
 the social service work was carried on at one point, the religious 
 work at another. 
 
 When that proved unsuccessful, the fusion of the two began 
 under the leadership of a young Seminary student, Norman B. 
 Barr, and it was this idea that he took to Mrs. McCormick. He 
 found prompt and intelligent response to this project which then 
 was ahead of the times. Mr. Barr believed that he was working 
 "temporarily" on this task. He retired some forty years later, leav- 
 ing an institution of manifold activities, the heart and center of its 
 neighborhood; and Mrs. McCormick went along with him to the 
 end of her life. 
 
 Some one from Glenwood Manual Training School must have 
 come up the steps. Glenwood was already in Mrs. McCormick's in- 
 terest — a school and home for homeless boys. If not now then 
 later the calls would have been made by Mrs. Charles A. Spring, 
 Jr., whose husband, for so long general superintendent of the Mc- 
 Cormick Harvesting Machine Company, was for a number of years 
 before his death the anonymous angel of the school. 
 
 There were still about three years in which the sturdy figure 
 of Dwight L. Moody could have mounted the Rush Street steps. 
 And this brings us to an incident that has been told on many plat- 
 
FAMILY OF TWO 1 97 
 
 forms. In the summer of 1897 Mr. Moody was holding meetings 
 in Chicago, aided by Mr. Torrey. They cost much money and one 
 morning Mr. Torrey woke to find Mr. Moody bending over him. 
 "Torrey," he said, "we need more than $3,000. Let's pray for it." 
 They did. During the day Mrs. McCormick felt strongly impelled 
 to meet some need of Mr. Moody's. She wrote a check for $3,000, 
 sent it to the meeting by an urgent messenger, who insisted on 
 handing the envelope to Mr. Moody on the platform. Opening 
 it, he immediately told the audience of his answered prayer. 
 
 A vital religious interest that had just got under way in 1895 
 belongs in this account of the late nineties. Sometime in that year 
 Mrs. McCormick had undertaken to aid the work of creating in 
 churchless pioneer fields Sunday schools out of which Presbyterian 
 churches might grow. She agreed to support one active mission- 
 ary on the northern Minnesota frontier. The man chosen was the 
 Reverend Samuel A. Blair, a modest, quiet, devout man capable 
 of any sacrifice to further his work, who became "her missionary 
 for Duluth presbytery." She paid his salary from 1895 t0 tne en d 
 of her life and followed his travels carefully. They were long jour- 
 neys on foot that only a strong, devoted man could have endured, 
 sometimes in snow and mud. On his first trip to Bemidji, up near 
 the source of the Mississippi, sixty miles had to be covered on foot 
 and by canoe with a guide. Timber wolves were in sight near their 
 camping spot. But in the pioneer town, the center of a community 
 of perhaps three hundred people, a meeting was held — the first 
 religious service in Bemidji and the first in Beltrami County outside 
 of an Indian reservation. 
 
 Mr. Blair's letters and those of his chief, Robert F. Sulzer, were 
 filled with the color of a new country where settlements, contain- 
 ing large foreign elements, were far separated. They had the color 
 too of Christian devotion to a difficult task full of hardships, of its 
 rich rewards in schools and churches planted as centers of influ- 
 ence, and in changed lives counted by hundreds. 
 
 There were other causes — other feet on the steps, other voices, 
 far too numerous to mention, though Mrs. McCormick's giving 
 was not yet at full tide. Some causes, because of their expansion 
 into major interests, call for separate treatment. To keep the 
 threads interwoven, we mention these: her adoption, a few months 
 after his return, of the beginning international work for students 
 
1 98 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 of young John R. Mott — his going up and down those steps was 
 to be momentous; and a new phase of her work for the Southern 
 Mountain Schools, springing from her own visit to Tusculum. Ex- 
 pansion of her lifelong interest in foreign missions was to come a 
 little later. 
 
 Of course the steps to the Rush Street door were mounted by 
 personal friends and social acquaintances too. Mrs. McCormick's 
 card tray held outstanding names in Chicago society — Blackstone 
 and Blair, Lincoln and Ryerson, Palmer and Rumsey, and many 
 others. There were a few neighbors and special friends who came; 
 but her life was too crowded for much visiting detached from 
 other interests. 
 
 Among her good friends in Chicago was Marshall Field, whom 
 the McCormicks had known well when they were in New York in 
 the sixties. Mr. McCormick had received, and declined, an invita- 
 tion to become a partner of young Marshall Field. Nannie Scott 
 Field had leaned on Mrs. McCormick's sympathy in her despairing 
 grief over the death of her first child, and in following years, be- 
 fore her own death in 1896, poured out her sufferings to "Dearest 
 Nettie" in letters and calls. Mr. Field and Mrs. McCormick shared 
 various interests, and both she and her son Cyrus sometimes sought 
 Mr. Field's opinion. He often called on Sunday afternoons; there 
 was correspondence and at Christmas Mrs. McCormick sent Mr. 
 Field handsome gifts, and he sent her American beauty roses. Once 
 he wrote: "I often think and have many times said, that you are the 
 most remarkable woman of my acquaintance." Their friendship 
 was to continue pleasantly through the years until his death abroad 
 in 1906. 
 
 In May of 1 897 care for her invalid daughter took Mrs. McCor- 
 mick again from home. For some time she had felt that California 
 was the ideal residence for Virginia and had fixed on the vicinity 
 of Santa Barbara as the right spot. During two seasons Miss 
 McCormick had been living there with her attendants in a rented 
 house. Now her mother believed they should build, and for eight- 
 een months at a stretch and other weeks later she superintended, 
 sometimes with the efficient aid of her son Stanley, the construc- 
 tion of house and grounds. Her experience with the Rush Street 
 house and Clayton Lodge, as well as various other buildings, had 
 sharpened a natural aptitude to a fine point. Architects and build- 
 
FAMILY OF TWO 1 99 
 
 ers alike testified to her ability, and — sometimes perhaps with 
 groans as well as admiration — to her persistence in seeking perfec- 
 tion. The beauty of the estate known as Riven Rock — from a 
 great cleft rock, its landmark — must have been a satisfaction, 
 though the invalid daughter was to spend little time there. Indeed, 
 Stanley, who did much to create it, was to spend far more time at 
 Riven Rock, in clouded health, than did his sister. 
 
 While Mrs. McCormick was at Montecito her son Cyrus went 
 out to get her final word on a new question of consolidation. 
 Under the pressure of desperate competitive conditions the Deer- 
 ings had given the McCormicks an option on buying their plant, 
 and figures (enormous figures) were mentioned. Of course there 
 had been many conferences in Chicago involving all three of the 
 McCormick brothers and much correspondence between Chicago 
 and Montecito. Mrs. McCormick's first reaction had been, as it 
 always was to the idea of consolidation, unfavorable. Meantime 
 the problem of where the McCormicks were to get the necessary 
 money was upon them. They could swing the deal by a bond issue, 
 but sufficient cash was not available. Asking for advice, not 
 financing, they turned to Mr. Rockefeller, and son-in-law Harold 
 McCormick went with Cyrus H. McCormick to present the mat- 
 ter. Mr. Rockefeller was interested, responsive, not prepared to 
 commit himself until his own appraiser could study the entire 
 McCormick set-up. Thus encouraged, Cyrus McCormick under- 
 took to consult the other members of the family whose consent 
 was necessary to action. In Montecito he won his mother's reluc- 
 tant consent to the negotiations, never her enthusiastic support. 
 
 As matters progressed, Mr. Rockefeller asked to meet the lead- 
 ing McCormick Harvesting Machine Company department heads. 
 The meeting took place, as Mr. Rockefeller wished, without any 
 McCormick brother sharing; and the financier decided that before 
 he could enter this business, as he wished to do, there must be some 
 housecleaning. 
 
 It was a summer in which the tide of prosperity mounted. Both 
 the McCormicks and the Deerings could feel greater confidence in 
 their own futures. How much effect this actually had is hardly 
 measurable; but that fall, in an amicable interview, Cyrus McCor- 
 mick gave up the project for the time being. He wrote to his 
 mother: "It is needless for me to say that our feeling in coming to 
 
200 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 this decision has been greatly strengthened by the position you 
 have taken from time to time. ... I am sure that this information 
 will be pleasing to you, for although you acquiesced in our plans, 
 as they then stood, there is no doubt that your judgment has been 
 against the move from the beginning." 
 
 By this time Harold McCormick was well into the business and 
 before long the youngest son entered too — first doing intermit- 
 tently things that might be helpful, later holding office and keeping 
 to a grueling office schedule. He had reduced the place of art in 
 his life to occasional sketching; he had completed a short law course 
 at Northwestern; and after weeks on horseback Stanley and a 
 friend had found a ranch. Here, near Cimarron, New Mexico, 
 this son of wealth and machinery became absorbed in buying and 
 herding cattle. His mother approved, sufficiently; but no doubt his 
 entrance into the family business gave her the deepest gratification. 
 The clear destiny of her husband's sons was the great business that 
 he had created. There Stanley as well as Cyrus and Harold be- 
 longed and there Stanley's own conscientiousness put him. 
 
 Another family event of the late nineties that thrilled Mrs. Mc- 
 Cormick was her daughter Anita's gift to found the Chicago Insti- 
 tute — a school for the education of children through the academic 
 grades and for the training of teachers. It was the first undertaking 
 in Mrs. Blaine's large contribution to progressive education in 
 Chicago. Her mother wrote an ecstatic letter of praise about the 
 time the gift was made known: "You are doing ar'great and ines- 
 timable good to your race. Harold said, 'Oh, is it not grand, what 
 Anita has done!' And it is grand beyond all computation." 
 
CliapieF 15 
 MOTHER OF THE SEMINARY 
 
 OON after her return to Chicago late in 1896 Mrs. McCor- 
 mick no doubt went eagerly to the campus of McCormick Theo- 
 logical Seminary to see the new library. It was her gift, completed 
 in accordance with her plans in her absence, and at her request the 
 building was named for her daughter the Virginia Library. 
 
 At the dedication Cyrus H. McCormick had read a letter that 
 his mother, with the cooperation of Stanley, had written in Italy 
 and sent on to be her word at the ceremony. Naturally and as al- 
 ways she referred to her husband: 
 
 "To no one . . . would the library be a greater joy than to my 
 dear and honored husband, who stood by the Seminary through 
 storm and cloud. The impulse to build this new home for the books 
 came from a wish to carry forward his work. ..." 
 
 This classic white marble library is one of a group of buildings 
 on that North Side campus which give an effect of quietness in the 
 midst of city noise. In that secluded part of it called Chalmers Place 
 two rows of pleasant houses face each other across a smooth, vel- 
 vety lawn set with trees. These are the homes of faculty members 
 of the Seminary and other houses belonging to that institution. 
 Two of the Seminary's academic buildings partly close in the east 
 end of the Place, while a modern gray stone commons building, a 
 modern gymnasium, and a dormitory new in 1950, lie to the west. 
 Between Chalmers Place and busy Halsted Street stand the older 
 buildings of the Seminary with their own grassy lawn. For many 
 years three dignified faculty houses dating from the eighties faced 
 the street. 
 
 From early in her marriage until her death this institution oc- 
 cupied a leading place in Mrs. McCormick's affection. Thus it de- 
 
 201 
 
202 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 serves a place here without dependence on chronology — crossing 
 the lines of her other interests and her personal life. 
 
 When she came back from Washington in 1859 with her first 
 baby, the land was waiting for the Seminary that was to be re- 
 created. It was open prairie, occupied by the wind. When she hur- 
 ried back from the East to a Chicago still burning, in October, 
 1 87 1, its one tall building stood there safe, just beyond the line of 
 the flames; stood in the midst of prairies and cabbage patches and, 
 still, the wind. The story of the founding of this "Presbyterian 
 Seminary of the North-West" in Chicago by Cyrus Hall McCor- 
 mick and its turbulent early years has already been told. Upon Mr. 
 McCormick's death his family took it on as a dear heritage of 
 obligation, confirmed when the directors renamed it McCormick 
 Theological Seminary — the name that it bore until a few years 
 after his widow's death and now bears again. 
 
 As to her husband, so to her the institution was a "school of the 
 prophets," designed to send into the world a constant stream of 
 young preachers trained in sound doctrine and devoted to service. 
 
 Its buildings are a standing record of the family's interest. The 
 earliest building, Ewing Hall, and the latest, Alumni Hall, alone 
 were erected without McCormick aid. McCormick Hall, a dorm- 
 itory, was the inventor's gift in the last year of his life. Another 
 was built by Mrs. McCormick and her son Cyrus during their 
 executorship of Mr. McCormick's will, when the two other dorm- 
 itories had overflowed; and the Seminary won her permission to 
 name it in her honor Fowler Hall. The library was Mrs. McCor- 
 mick's gift alone, while the gymnasium, for which she made the 
 basic contribution, was erected after her death. 
 
 To each building in addition to money she had given uncounted 
 hours in consultations with architects, builders, Seminary commit- 
 tees, furnishers, and in personal inspection, out of which came 
 many a sound criticism or wise suggestion on her part. Those who 
 knew her ways closely have said, with pardonable exaggeration, 
 that she knew every stick and brick in any building that she gave. 
 Certainly she knew the lore of blueprints and specifications and 
 had a talent for proportion and right arrangement. 
 
 Chalmers Place owes its existence to her. Rental houses were the 
 chosen investment for Seminary funds. In the late eighties the Sem- 
 inary greatly needed more income and therefore more houses. 
 
MOTHER OF THE SEMINARY 203 
 
 So Mrs. McCormick and Cyrus contributed from the estate 
 both the amount of the deficit for the year 1888-89 and $100,000 
 to build fifteen houses. The plan for arranging them on either side 
 of a parked street was Mrs. McCormick's. So were, if not actually 
 the designs, at least the general plan and many details of the houses. 
 And the good old Presbyterian name of Chalmers was her choice. 
 
 Her interest was not confined to the houses, either. The private 
 street was to be made beautiful and Mrs. McCormick, always a 
 lover of trees, elected herself to the task. Upon a wintry day her 
 carriage drove up to the door of No. 10 Chalmers Place. It was 
 accompanied by a large dray loaded with sizable trees. As she went 
 up the front steps her coachman walked beside her carrying a pair 
 of immensely tall rubber boots. In Jessie Harvey Robinson's parlor 
 she put them on and announced that she was going to superintend 
 the planting. As she had only one pair of boots she would not allow 
 Mrs. Robinson to go out with her. All that morning she stood there 
 in the snow, erect and graceful, in her incongruous boots until she 
 had seen the roots safely placed where she meant them to be. 
 
 In all the McCormick family gave to this institution founded in 
 Chicago by their head about four million dollars — the last million, 
 on endowment, a memorial to Mrs. McCormick. Besides the build- 
 ings and furnishings there was a steady outgo for deficits, repairs, 
 alterations, and refurnishing; special pledges; the establishment of a 
 fellowship and scholarships; aid to city mission work; money for 
 books; and large contributions from time to time to the endow- 
 ment. Not to mention such charming incidentals as flowers for 
 special occasions, and numerous gifts. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick interested herself in everything — properties, 
 professors, students; in soundness at once of dormitory roofs, of 
 health, and of doctrine. She was always intimately involved in the 
 selection of the faculty. The degree of her influence would be dif- 
 ficult to determine; but evidently it was considerable. When a chair 
 fell vacant, there would be a long consideration of many names. 
 And she would share in the discussions, first of all with her son 
 Cyrus who was Special Director in his father's place, then with 
 members of the nominating committee, with directors and pro- 
 fessors. 
 
 More than once Cyrus went forth to explore the merits of a 
 prospective professor or to support a call with persuasion, while 
 
204 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 Mrs. McCormick kept in close touch. She was, for instance, warmly 
 in sympathy with the quest for Dr. Andrew C. Zenos in the spring 
 of 1 89 1. Mrs. McCormick and Cyrus had known this brilliant 
 young man when he taught the classical form of his native tongue, 
 Greek, at Lake Forest University. Now that the chair of Biblical 
 History was vacant, the Seminary and the McCormicks sought to 
 draw him from the Congregational Seminary at Hartford, Connec- 
 ticut to Presbyterian McCormick. 
 
 When word came that Dr. Zenos was torn by conflicting claims, 
 Cyrus took train for Hartford straight from breakfast and no 
 doubt consultation with his mother in New York. He spent pleas- 
 ant hours in the Zenos household and entered into the problems that 
 halted decision. One of these was the inferiority of McCormick's 
 library, which was accommodated in a corner of the chapel. Mr. 
 McCormick promised to supply the lack. Then he returned to his 
 mother for a few hours which, he wrote her, were " delightful and 
 stimulating." 
 
 The next month Dr. Zenos accepted the call and in the autumn 
 began the fifty years of service to the Seminary as professor, dean, 
 and dean emeritus which constitute one of its greatest glories. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick's judgment of people was keen and sound; and 
 the tests she applied to candidates were dictated by consideration 
 of the Seminary's welfare. "I judge," wrote one with a worthwhile 
 opinion, "that Mrs. McCormick had two special concerns about 
 the Seminary — that all its teachers should have a definite con- 
 viction lying within the accepted evangelical field, and that they 
 be men of such personality that the students would not need to get 
 past them in order to become vigorous ministers of the gospel." So 
 far as known, there was no instance of actual dictation on her part, 
 no assumption of a right to control. 
 
 There was perhaps a special consideration when the chair to be 
 filled was the one named for Mr. McCormick, the chair of Sys- 
 tematic and Polemic Theology. Only once in Mrs. McCormick's 
 time was it filled by some one not approved to the faculty by her 
 husband personally. This was in 191 1, when Dr. Willis G. Craig, a 
 man of Mr. McCormick's choosing who had been transferred to 
 this chair from another after Mr. McCormick's death, retired. 
 There followed the usual wide and careful search. Finally, accord- 
 ing to a faculty story, the special committee appointed by the di- 
 
MOTHER OF THE SEMINARY 205 
 
 rectors narrowed the list down to five or six names and took the 
 list to Mrs. McCormick. She looked at it and said, pointing, "That's 
 the man I want." He was Cleland B. McAfee, one of the sons in 
 the Park College family of McAfees, well known to Mrs. McCor- 
 mick since his young manhood and particularly during a Chicago 
 ministry. Now he was coming from a Brooklyn pastorate and was 
 to occupy the chair until long after Mrs. McCormick's death. 
 
 In the nineties Mrs. McCormick took definite part in a contro- 
 versy that affected all the Presbyterian theological seminaries in 
 the country. It was a question of a change in their charters and it 
 followed, as a sequel, an agitating controversy over the trial of Dr. 
 Charles A. Briggs for heresy. 
 
 With that trial Mrs. McCormick of course had nothing to do, 
 but in her relation to the Interior she had something to say about 
 its presentation to Presbyterian readers. Years before, when Dr. 
 Gray, its editor, had taken a half interest with Mr. McCormick in 
 the paper, provision had been made that in case of difference of 
 opinion on policy Mr. McCormick's word should be final, but that 
 this should not carry on to his heirs. Yet Dr. Gray had always held 
 himself in honor bound to print nothing that he thought Mrs. Mc- 
 Cormick would disapprove and to submit any doubtful question to 
 her. Now a great issue was at stake. 
 
 The trouble began with an inaugural address delivered by Dr. 
 Charles A. Briggs on the occasion of his transfer from one chair to 
 another on the faculty of Union Theological Seminary in New 
 York. Shortly after the publication of the inaugural address Mrs. 
 McCormick had expressed to Cyrus the opinion that Dr. Briggs 
 had "laid himself out for trial for heresy." When the Presbytery 
 of New York took action looking to a trial, Mrs. McCormick 
 wrote to her son: 
 
 "This is a time when we would do ourselves great injustice to 
 let the Interior take any stand whatever on this great question with- 
 out an accord between Dr. Gray and ourselves. . . . The paper 
 that supported Patton in his trying hour should not make a mistake 
 now, though we are not parties to the matter directly." 
 
 In this she was hewing to the line of loyalty to her husband's 
 opinions. For in the mid-seventies Mr. McCormick had been active 
 in the trial of Professor David Swing on heresy charges brought 
 by Dr. Patton, then of the Presbyterian Theological Seminary of 
 
206 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 the North- West. The expression "in his trying hour," applied to 
 the prosecutor rather than the accused, shows her acceptance of 
 that side of the earlier controversy. 
 
 For two years the Briggs case followed an intricate, turbulent 
 course. The theological offenses charged against Dr. Briggs were 
 the expression of such beliefs as the so-called "Higher Critics" were 
 to make widely familiar: questioning the supremacy of the Bible 
 as the source of authority in faith and conduct; denial of the in- 
 errancy of the Scriptures; the view that Moses did not write all of 
 the Pentateuch and that there was more than one Isaiah. 
 
 Mighty men of theology ranged themselves on each side, sup- 
 porting, attacking — some with dignified scholarship, some with a 
 clear feeling for justice, some with un-Christian rancor. Dr. Briggs 
 had solemnly pronounced words of loyalty to the official Presby- 
 terian beliefs before making his address. And though he did not 
 hesitate to admit some of the views attributed to him, he main- 
 tained that none was out of harmony with the Westminster Con- 
 fession of Faith. 
 
 The outcome was that the General Assembly of 1891 refused to 
 approve the election of Dr. Briggs to his chair; and Union Theo- 
 logical Seminary ended by cutting its Presbyterian ties. In two trials 
 of Dr. Briggs before the Presbytery of New York the first vote 
 was to dismiss the case in the interests of peace, the second an ac- 
 quittal. But the General Assembly of 1893 overthrew that verdict 
 and suspended Dr. Briggs from the Presbyterian ministry. 
 
 All this in great detail was faithfully reported in the Interior , 
 both points of view being represented. Dr. John DeWitt of Mc- 
 Cormick was the sharpest critic of Dr. Briggs. Later, as the battle 
 raged, Dr. Herrick Johnson entered the lists in the interest, not of 
 either side, but of fair play and justice. Dr. Gray's own editorials 
 were without strong partisan tone, and as the controversy grew 
 more bitter he concentrated on the promotion of peace in the 
 Church. In May, 1891 he wrote to Mrs. McCormick: 
 
 "My feeling has been of deep antagonism to the Briggs school. 
 But I am free to confess that I abhor the spirit of religious persecu- 
 tion. . . . 
 
 "Now my desire is to follow the things that make for peace. . . . 
 
 "The Bible is in no more 'danger' than the sunlight. God does 
 not require us to keep the sun and the Bible shining. He wants us 
 
MOTHER OF THE SEMINARY 207 
 
 to enter into the light of both, and warm ourselves, and guide our 
 steps." 
 
 Mrs. McCormick's writings contain few expressions on the 
 Briggs case. But after the Assembly had acted in 1891, she wrote: 
 "The Assembly has spoken, but that voice does not arrest the 
 march of Professor Briggs' teachings. They will go on! I trust 
 they may not split the church." That Mrs. McCormick did not, 
 however, allow the controversy to take on wrong proportions is 
 clear from a conversation between herself and Thomas C. Hall. 
 "Tom" Hall, son of the eminent preacher, John Hall, was then 
 her pastor. He had upheld Dr. Briggs and had been greatly shaken 
 by the final verdict. Mrs. McCormick tried to give him perspec- 
 tive: "I . . . begged him to wait in silence and in patience until 
 the smoke of the battle should clear away a little and he could see 
 the field; and I compared this strife to a small storm on the bosom 
 of the mighty deep, which had not really disabled or dismantled 
 our great and noble Presbyterian ship." 
 
 In following years Mrs. McCormick did not protest as grad- 
 ually, quietly, the methods of the Higher Criticism were intro- 
 duced at the Seminary she loved. As in other interests the opinions 
 of those she had come to trust influenced her. Of chief importance 
 among these influences, undoubtedly, was Dr. Zenos, whose wide 
 range of scholarship and rare personality she deeply admired. Pro- 
 fessor at different periods of Church History and of Historical 
 Theology (and capable, it was often said, of filling any chair in the 
 Seminary), Dr. Zenos had the great gift of speaking the truth 
 "not with a shout of defiance, but in love." One of the first in the 
 seminaries to employ the methods of the Higher Criticism, he 
 taught in this spirit and with sure protection for the great funda- 
 mentals. 
 
 Speaking reminiscently of Mrs. McCormick's acquiescence in 
 the newer views, Dr. Zenos said: 
 
 "When we began to have courses in Higher Criticism she ac- 
 cepted that with toleration. I did introduce courses in which the 
 new point of view came to be first tolerated and later practically 
 accepted. It was essentially gradual and tactful. I hope so. The 
 present trend is all in that way. We don't fight anything because it 
 is new. We examine. If we find it must be accepted — all right. . . . 
 Mrs. McCormick might have said: 'My dear husband if he had 
 
208 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 lived in the time when this all happened would have approved of it. 
 In his day the whole debate was discussed in a certain narrow kind 
 of light in which things could not be seen any other way. But the 
 new light that has come enables us to see it in a different way. If 
 my dear husband had been living now he would have tolerated and 
 approved the same thing.' " 
 
 In the ' 'sequel" to the Briggs case, in so far as the McCormick 
 Theological Seminary was involved, Mrs. McCormick's part was 
 direct and telling. 
 
 It was in a state of mind induced by the Briggs case and the ac- 
 tion of Union Theological Seminary that the General Assembly 
 of 1892 announced its belief "that the church should have direct 
 connection with and control over its theological seminaries." It 
 appointed a committee to study the subject. 
 
 The Briggs case gave off too much sound and heat for full dis- 
 cussion of the new subject in 1892. But when the 1894 Assembly 
 met, the Seminary question rivaled the Briggs case in temperature. 
 Under most of the seminary charters an election of professor or 
 director might be vetoed by the next succeeding Assembly. Now 
 the majority report proposed a startling increase in the Assembly's 
 power; unless the next succeeding Assembly should approve an 
 election, it would not be valid. Further, the majority report recom- 
 mended that the seminaries be asked to declare all their property 
 (eight million dollars' worth of it) held in trust for the church. 
 The minority report pointed out the evils of such centralization. 
 Debate was long drawn out and prickly. 
 
 When at last it ended, the Assembly voted 443 to 115 m favor of 
 the majority report. A committee was sent out to ask each sem- 
 inary to agree to alter its charter as proposed. It was only in the 
 spring of 1895, as the time approached for the Seminary directors 
 to reply, that Mrs. McCormick entered the controversy. Dr. Gray 
 urged her to write to the directors. He saw a deadly likeness be- 
 tween the present situation and that in the sixties when New School 
 forces in the Assembly had all but wrested the control of the Sem- 
 inary from the hands of C. H. McCormick and his friends. "I never 
 can consent," Dr. Gray wrote Cyrus, "to surrender what it cost 
 your father four years of sorrow and pain to secure." 
 
 Mrs. McCormick devoted much time and thought to preparing 
 her course. One evening she drove over to Halsted Street to see Dr. 
 
MOTHER OF THE SEMINARY 209 
 
 Craig, in the pleasant house that Mr. McCormick had built. She 
 listened carefully to his arguments, but was not convinced. Pres- 
 ently she sent him a draft of the letter she proposed to send to the 
 directors, together with a longer covering letter. 
 
 Her letter to the directors read, in part: 
 
 "I hear with regret of the proposition to change the charter of 
 McCormick Seminary. . . . 
 
 "After careful examination of the question we feel that, as far 
 as lies in our province, we must strongly oppose any change of the 
 charter. . . ." 
 
 The longer letter to Dr. Craig shows the thinking that lay back 
 of the formal expression: 
 
 "Now it seems to me that in all human affairs, it is the few that 
 control, even when the greater number have the name of control- 
 ling. The General Assembly, as a great body, does not handle or 
 decide difficult questions. These are, in the end, decided by a small 
 group — a Committee — and that group is generally controlled by 
 a master mind. 
 
 "Now it seems to me I would rather trust the group that has 
 long managed this Seminary, and has been devoted to its interests, 
 and made sacrifices for it, than to give more power to the General 
 Assembly, — or a new group of its creation, who have not the 
 parent's love for it, and might lay rash hands on its teachers, and its 
 property. ... It is a huge question, — and two years seems not 
 enough to get all the bearings of it, and to see how to save the 
 Seminaries, for all time, from going wrong!" 
 
 The letter to the directors was well received. So was the speech 
 made by Cyrus H. McCormick at their meeting. And the vote was 
 unanimously with the McCormicks against revision. 
 
 The seminaries voted variously, but most of them in the nega- 
 tive. There was a rumbling echo of the struggle in 1896, loud 
 enough so that Mrs. McCormick felt called upon to cable from 
 abroad her hope that the directors would hold their ground. They 
 held. The Assembly discharged the committee. And in 1897 the 
 subject was peacefully closed. 
 
 The last important event of the nineties in McCormick Seminary 
 history was one that hardly reached the surface. It was the con- 
 sideration of increased endowment to be linked with the creation 
 of a presidency. Until this time the Seminary had been conducted 
 
2IO NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 without a president, members of the faculty serving in turn as 
 chairman. Now the McCormicks stood ready to act. But the first 
 candidate who was sounded declined; he, it was thought, would 
 have brought peace between inharmonious factions. Without him, 
 existing differences, both in the faculty itself and between certain 
 members of the faculty and the McCormicks, constituted a stum- 
 bling block. Good counsellors advised postponement of the en- 
 dowment, lest the power implicit in it be unwisely used, and this 
 thought prevailed. 
 
 When the chair of Ecclesiastical History fell vacant shortly 
 after the turn of the century, a man of progressive tendencies, Dr. 
 James Riggs, of Auburn Theological Seminary, was proposed for 
 it and warmly supported by the progressive group in faculty and 
 directorate, with Cyrus H. McCormick's backing. Careful explana- 
 tions of Dr. Riggs's position as a middle-of-the-road man won Mrs. 
 AicCormick to the side of the progressives. The leader of the con- 
 servative opposition, Dr. W. S. Plumer Bryan, shocked at indica- 
 tions that, contrary to tradition, a division of opinion in the faculty 
 was to be disregarded, wrote to her in vigorous protest. Rather 
 crisply she brushed the objection aside. 
 
 "The question is," she wrote, "not so much whether we will 
 unite on Dr. Riggs — (it being almost certain that no one will ob- 
 ject to a professor with so many necessary qualifications of high 
 scholarship, sound theology, and congeniality of thought, and 
 harmonious feeling with the existing faculty) — but the real ques- 
 tion is — will he come? Will he leave Auburn?" 
 
 Dr. Riggs was indeed called and his acceptance was warmly 
 urged not only by members of faculty and directorate but by the 
 students. In that too Mrs. McCormick had a hand. Three who were 
 her guests at luncheon one day spoke in eager hope that Dr. Riggs 
 could come; whereupon Mrs. McCormick suggested that they 
 express their hope to Dr. Riggs. They and other students promptly 
 sent a message. But the conservative leader was unyielding. Strong 
 tradition holds that he threatened heresy charges if the call were 
 accepted. For various reasons, of which the division at McCormick 
 was certainly one, the candidate did not come. 
 
 Gradually Mrs. McCormick and her sons became convinced 
 that the remedy for this situation of conflict lay in the creation of 
 
MOTHER OF THE SEMINARY 2 I I 
 
 a presidency; that out of all the names considered the president 
 should be Dr. James Gore King McClure. 
 
 Dr. McClure was well known to the McCormick family: in their 
 summer sojourns at Lake Forest he was their pastor; he had been a 
 wise director on the Seminary's Board for seven years, and was in 
 other ways an outstanding Presbyterian leader. He was a moderate, 
 tending to the progressive side, commanding the warm support of 
 that wise and sound progressive, Dr. Zenos, who had indeed pro- 
 posed his name. 
 
 In a brief history of the Seminary, Dr. McClure tells how the 
 definitive presidential approach was made. On a beautiful summer 
 morning in 1904 he was called to the Rush Street house. "In the 
 interview Mrs. McCormick inquired whether in case the Directors 
 of the Seminary should elect him to the Presidency he would take 
 the office! It was a thrilling inquiry. He . . . had participated 
 in the innumerable counsels of the institution when efforts to give 
 the Seminary a partisan theological bias had been frustrated, knew 
 the temper and antecedents of each member of the Faculty and of 
 each member of the Board of Directors, and knew, too, the 
 exact state of the finances of the Seminary. He was well aware that 
 there were two types of thought existing in the Faculty, one of 
 which was quite tenacious of the past and the other of which was 
 ready for advances in statement of theological views/' ' But on one 
 point he was clear: he could never undertake the great task unless 
 the Seminary had adequate endowment; the certainty that, barring 
 the unforeseen, the McCormicks would meet recurring deficits, 
 would not give him ease. The unforeseen might come. All this he 
 made explicit — and left. 
 
 Though the thought of endowment was not new, it had to be 
 faced afresh. Much figuring brought the conclusion that an income 
 of $40,000 was essential (the annual deficit had been about $33,- 
 000), and a million dollars was required to yield it. The outcome 
 was an undertaking on the part of Mrs. McCormick to give $750,- 
 000, while her sons Cyrus and Harold brought the amount to a 
 million, and the three arranged in addition for the President's 
 salary. 
 
 1 James G. K. McClure, The Story of the Life and Work of the Presbyterian 
 Theological Seminary, Chicago. Chicago, printed at the Lakeside Press, 1929. 
 
212 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 The decision was taken. But plans for the gift were kept a close 
 secret, so the formal announcement was impressive. It was made at 
 Commencement, a great day for the Seminary. 
 
 Dr. McClure's presidency, well begun, was to last until his re- 
 tirement, in his early eighties — a period of twenty-three years. On 
 entering the office he wrote to Mrs. McCormick: "It will be im- 
 possible for me to succeed in the work of the Presidency unless 
 your counsel and sympathy are always with me. You must let me 
 come to you as a son to a mother, asking your advice and profiting 
 by your wisdom." And so it was with them throughout the years. 
 
 It was not roses all the way. The strain between the two points 
 of view continued painfully. But Dr. McClure's talents as a "mod- 
 erator" were brought to bear, and the definite association of Cyrus 
 H. McCormick and his mother with the more progressive group 
 carried impressive weight. Time brought changes; in the church at 
 large conflict lost its sharpness. At length there was peace. 
 
 Milestones were marked by generous gifts. In 1909 "the eight- 
 ieth year of the origin of the Seminary, the fiftieth year of its loca- 
 tion in Chicago, and the one hundredth year of the birth of Cyrus 
 H. McCormick" were celebrated in a two days' program. Eminent 
 speakers, with Woodrow Wilson, then president of Princeton Uni- 
 versity, at the climax, made addresses bearing on these coincidental 
 birthdays. Mrs. McCormick's special observance was a pledge to 
 pay $14,000 a year for each of the ten following years. But when 
 1 9 1 5 came around, to mark the tenth year of Dr. McClure's presi- 
 dency of the Seminary she added substantially to the endowment, 
 and with her sons endowed the president's chair. It was a gift that 
 lifted anxiety and ensured advance. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick's final contribution to the funds of the Sem- 
 inary was made in her last full year — $100,000, given without fixed 
 designation but in part, it was understood, to meet the needs of the 
 teaching staff. 
 
 The gift of a fellowship in Hebrew was made, early in the 1900's 
 in a characteristic fashion — in a swift action following long con- 
 sideration, and at night. It was made on the solicitation of a young 
 faculty member, George Livingstone Robinson, professor of Old 
 Testament Literature and Exegesis. 
 
 Within two years of his joining the faculty Dr. Robinson had 
 distinguished himself by an archeological discovery in which Mrs. 
 
MOTHER OF THE SEMINARY 213 
 
 McCormick, as well as the Seminary, took great pride. He had 
 found and interpreted the Great High Place or sanctuary at the 
 ancient rock city of Petra, capital of Edom — seen by others but 
 without understanding of its significance. It was a story that Mrs. 
 McCormick repeatedly asked the young professor to tell. 
 
 To find a High Place and to visit Petra, in the little-known re- 
 gion to the south and east of the Dead Sea, had been strong am- 
 bitions of Dr. Robinson and in 1900 he held them in mind as he 
 followed on camel the Israelites' desert wanderings. But travel in 
 these parts was hazardous and frowned upon by the Turks, and 
 Dr. Robinson could find no guide. Finally he secured the guidance 
 of a missionary who knew the country. At a certain point the 
 Turkish authorities required them to accept military escort, and 
 after three days' riding they reached their goal. They entered this 
 all but lost old city through a deep, narrow gorge — the Sik, a won- 
 derful mile and more of richly colored sandstone walls twisting 
 through the brilliant-hued mountains that surround Petra. Emerg- 
 ing into a transverse gorge at the narrowest, darkest part of the 
 Sik, they came on the incredible beauty of the Khazneh — probably 
 the mausoleum of some great king — carved like a cameo in the rosy 
 rock itself. Near this they camped. 
 
 Only three days were allowed them at Petra. On the first day 
 they were climbing at random when Dr. Robinson observed two 
 unusual pyramidal columns such as might indicate the proximity 
 of a sanctuary. The top of the mountain still rose above them, 
 capped by challenging ruins. Faint with exhaustion the missionary 
 refused to climb farther, refused also to be left without the pro- 
 tection of their escort. But Dr. Robinson persevered, and as he 
 stepped out alone on the smooth dome of the mountain top straight 
 before him he saw a great rectangular court cut into the rock, two 
 altars with stairway approaches, a large pool, and other cuttings 
 — all of which told him that he had found a High Place — a place of 
 worship and sacrifice of the vanished Nabateans, who followed 
 the sons of Esau in this land. 
 
 This was the young man for whom one night in the following 
 summer, at about half past nine, Mrs. McCormick sent her carriage 
 to bring him to her house. After a long wait she appeared in the 
 library accompanied by her son Stanley. "Now, Professor Robin- 
 son," she said, "you have been asking me for three years to do 
 
214 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 something for your department. Tell me just what you want." 
 Promptly the young professor outlined his hopes, which ran to a 
 two-year fellowship in Hebrew, and on request he named $25,000 
 as the necessary endowment. At once Stanley McCormick re- 
 minded his mother that money would not be earning as much in 
 the future and that $30,000 would be better. When Mrs. McCor- 
 mick sought to bring him in with her on the giving, he politely 
 withdrew to his room. But before the night visit was over, Mrs. 
 McCormick had pledged the $30,000 and her son had come down 
 in dressing gown to offer $15,000 for books to increase the slender 
 resources of the Seminary shelves. 
 
 This night conference was by no means unusual. Other profes- 
 sors were summoned from their homes at hours commonly consid- 
 ered past all limits of a day. So was Mrs. McCormick's pastor, Dr. 
 John Timothy Stone of Fourth Presbyterian Church, who was later 
 to become president of the Seminary. Each came gladly of course. 
 
 But mothering this school of the prophets included something 
 far more intimate — there was a more direct motherliness in Mrs. 
 McCormick's kind ministrations to students and faculty, their 
 wives or widows, their children. She sent faculty folk to the hospi- 
 tal when they were ill or to make sure of their health; sent doctors 
 to them if that seemed a better course; sent them to other climates 
 if that was indicated. She paid tuition fees for their children; made 
 gifts of books; sent flowers; invited them to dinner — more often 
 than not without advance warning and sometimes when all they 
 could do was to rise from their own table and go, taking student 
 guests along. She gave gifts, usually of silver or bonds, when fac- 
 ulty daughters married. When death entered a faculty home she 
 was, if possible, present with aid and comfort. 
 
 One of the pleasantest illustrations of this more intimate side 
 concerns a faculty daughter who had lost her mother. Shortly 
 after, she became engaged to a Seminary senior. Mrs. McCormick 
 gave a luncheon for her. When the meal was over, she drew the 
 guest of honor aside, apparently intending to take her upstairs for 
 a talk. They stepped into the automatic elevator and Mrs. McCor- 
 mick closed the door; but instead of pushing the button, she drew 
 the young woman down beside her on the car seat. In the place of 
 her mother, she said, she felt that she must warn the bride-to-be of 
 the pitfalls before her eager feet — as a wife, and particularly as a 
 
MOTHER OF THE SEMINARY 215 
 
 minister's wife. Holding the young girl's hand, she gave her ten- 
 der, wise advice that became a precious memory. 
 
 As for the students, above all she knew them. Naturally not all 
 of them, though the professors were amazed at the number whose 
 faces and names she recalled. But she sought out those who won 
 her Old Testament fellowship, missionary candidates, any one 
 recommended to her for his special qualities or his special need. 
 There are memories of group breakfasts and lunches, of friendly 
 greetings in Seminary parlors, of care in illness or distress. 
 
 One of the group breakfasts in particular is remembered, though 
 with inevitable variations. It appears that eleven graduates of the 
 Seminary class of 1902 were present on the day after Commence- 
 ment — eleven who were to become foreign missionaries. One of 
 the guests was the first winner of Mrs. McCormick's Hebrew fel- 
 lowship; three others had been in the competition, but all four had 
 withdrawn. To each of these men, during the breakfast, Mrs. Mc- 
 Cormick passed her speaking tube, asking his reason for abandoning 
 a chance at two years' study abroad. She was content with the 
 answers, for they were in terms of missionary zeal and of ro- 
 mance: each of that special group felt that he must get right at his 
 work, each wished to marry "the only girl" at once. 
 
 Each man in the group was asked about the country that he 
 meant to serve and found his hostess well acquainted with the field. 
 At the close of the breakfast she invited every man to send his 
 diploma to her for framing. And shortly after, each of the four 
 who were on the point of marrying received a helpful check. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick's warm feeling for the institution was shown 
 in her attendance on Seminary occasions. She would often appear 
 at opening day exercises, at Commencement, at the inauguration 
 of new professors, and would stand beside Mrs. McClure at presi- 
 dential receptions to greet directors and trustees and welcome 
 students, or would delight the faculty by sharing in one of their 
 dinners. From time to time she would go over to visit classes or 
 listen to examinations. Sometimes the special reason was to ac- 
 quaint some young man with the excellence of this beloved school. 
 One of these youths was Henry Robinson Luce, member of a 
 China missionary family that stood high in Mrs. McCormick's 
 regard, who was to become widely known as editor and publisher. 
 She had believed in Henry Luce's unusual ability when he was 
 
2l6 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 still a school boy and had helped him on the early steps of his 
 career by many kindnesses. Perhaps she had a propaganda purpose 
 in exposing this promising youth to Seminary influences. They did 
 not take. 
 
 Her joy in the Seminary was a joy in the product — the hundreds 
 of young men whom the faculty was turning out into all fields of 
 Christian work, multiplying her gifts a thousandfold as the years 
 mounted. There were, of course, hundreds of Presbyterian pastors. 
 There were educators in Christian colleges. There were home 
 mission workers — in city slums, in far posts among Mexicans, 
 Indians, Negroes, Mormons, others, and foreign missionaries in 
 all the countries where Presbyterian work goes on. It was indeed 
 a goodly company. As Mrs. McCormick reflected upon it and its 
 radiating influence on many lives, she must have felt as Dr. John 
 Timothy Stone felt at one Commencement: "I opened my eyes," 
 he wrote, "during the benediction and thought, as I saw him [Dr. 
 McClure] standing there with uplifted hands, praying for those 
 forty-four splendid fellows . . . that if your dear husband and 
 you could have looked upon that scene, as undoubtedly he does, 
 he would feel that no human or divine investment can be so great 
 as the giving the chance to young men to preach the Gospel of 
 Christ;' 
 
PART IV 
 THE OLD ORDER PASSES 
 
THE OLD ORDER PASSES 
 
 I 
 
 N THE summer of 1900 Mrs. McCormick visited a field at 
 Mitry-Mory not far from Paris, where the McCormick horseless 
 mower was to be tested. There was an air of festivity about the 
 scene. Many invitations had been sent out by Mrs. McCormick, 
 many others by her son Stanley. A special train was provided. All 
 the French dealers in McCormick machines then in Paris were on 
 hand. A tent had been set up to provide refreshments. 
 
 When Mrs. McCormick and Stanley and their party arrived after 
 luncheon at a nearby farmhouse, they were surprised to see a Deer- 
 ing horseless mower already at work in a field opposite and the 
 crowd swarming after it. Presently the Deering motor halted. 
 The McCormick men started to chaff the Deering men with "Back 
 him up in the shaft," and other such pleasantries. Stanley McCor- 
 mick stopped them. The Deering machine started again but quit. 
 Then the McCormick machine started and, in Mrs. McCormick's 
 words, "it went along like a thing of life going around and around 
 the piece of lucerne until it was entirely cut, without stopping, and 
 made a fine impression on the assemblage." 
 
 While Mrs. McCormick and Stanley were watching, one of the 
 French dealers came to them in excited, arm-waving protest. The 
 Deering men were eating McCormick sandwiches and drinking 
 McCormick wine in the McCormick tent! But Mrs. McCormick 
 said it was all right and they should have all they wanted. 
 
 This was a part of the McCormick showing at the Universal 
 Exposition at Paris. Mrs. McCormick had entered into the long 
 preliminary plans with her sons, shared in the preparations; but 
 in going along to Paris she had in mind, among other things, the 
 social side of the exhibition. One did not "influence" judges of 
 course, but one had a right to cultivate pleasant relations with 
 
 219 
 
2 20 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 commissioners and other important men and with their wives, and 
 to provide information about the history and achievements of the 
 company. In the apartment leased for Mrs. McCormick, Cyrus, 
 Harriet, and Stanley to occupy as fitted their varying summer 
 schedules, there were lunches, teas, and dinners, at which such 
 people were guests. On one occasion the Assistant United States 
 Commissioner General to this exposition, Benjamin D. Woodward, 
 was a guest and so was Eugene Tisserand, who as director of the 
 Emperor's domains had known the McCormicks at the Exposition 
 of 1867. Mrs. McCormick was happy to have Mr. Woodward, who 
 they were told favored the Deerings, hear M. Tisserand, now an 
 old man, tell the story of Mr. McCormick and the Emperor 
 Napoleon III arm in arm watching the reaper work in the royal 
 fields. 
 
 Many of the McCormick machines were shown in the 
 Vincennes "annex" to the Exposition, others in the general Exposi- 
 tion located on the Champ de Mars in Paris. The McCormick 
 Company, relying upon the prominent part they had played in 
 other International Expositions in France, apparently thought ade- 
 quate space would be automatically reserved for them by the 
 Exposition authorities and did not make application soon enough 
 to secure space for all their exhibits. So they built at Vincennes a 
 McCormick Pavilion, a fine piece of architecture, with appropri- 
 ate decorative designs, which was officially opened by the United 
 States Commissioner, with Stanley McCormick, white-faced but 
 effective, making the speech of welcome. It held models of the 
 McCormick harvesting machines from the reaper of 1831 to the 
 1 900 version of mower with reaper attachment; various exhibits of 
 special machines and processes, and panoramas and other pictures 
 designed to show the proud place of the McCormick Company. 
 Certain machines were silver plated — the same that had been 
 shown at the World's Columbian Exposition seven years before. 
 The McCormick machines got a satisfying share of the prizes, 
 though the Deering and the McCormick harvesting machines each 
 won a grand prize. 
 
 Never was the rivalry among harvester companies, especially 
 between the McCormicks and the Deerings, more savage than in 
 these years at the turn of the century. It was sharply marked at the 
 Exposition. Not only had the Deerings received the best space but 
 
THE OLD ORDER PASSES 22 1 
 
 they had won the right to present a "retrospective exhibit of the 
 development of the reaper." This exhibit the McCormicks consid- 
 ered unfair. There was much controversy over the labels attached 
 to various machines, and in the end the McCormicks prepared a 
 retrospective exhibit of their own. The strain continued and 
 heightened. A McCormick spokesman in 191 1 wrote: "For a 
 decade before 1902 the harvesting machine business was thor- 
 oughly demoralized. Trade rivalry had become a bitter, wasteful, 
 ruinous warfare of a sort never known in any other business. . . . 
 Competition . . . was a 'guerrilla war,' seeking and causing the 
 ruthless ruin of competitors. It produced unfair discriminations 
 between customers and wasteful losses to dealers and manufactur- 
 ers." 
 
 Out of this tension the idea of consolidation, which had taken a 
 fresh start just before the Exposition, began to press again. From 
 this beginning arose negotiations that were carried on intermit- 
 tently and from different approaches, until they climaxed in the 
 formation of the International Harvester Company in the summer 
 of 1902. In all of these Mrs. McCormick, head of the family and 
 chief stockholder, shared in many consultations with her sons, her 
 daughter Mrs. Blaine, her brother, attorneys, and the principal 
 McCormick Harvesting Machine Company officials. 
 
 A McCormick practice was to analyze a subject into a list of 
 questions arranged for voting and then secure the vote of each 
 member of the family and perhaps some of the company officials 
 on each point. The leading question of course was, Is it better for 
 us to go on alone or to enter into a consolidation? Late in 1901, 
 though she had already entered into discussion of plans for com- 
 bination with the Deerings, Mrs. McCormick was saying: "As 
 we are going on well now as we are, the proposition or price must 
 be very tempting to make me willing now. I do not prefer a com- 
 bined organization at this time, per se, for its own sake." Her 
 three sons each voted for "a combined organization." 
 
 Until the summer of 1902 the negotiations were personally con- 
 ducted by the McCormicks and the Deerings. Plan after plan was 
 considered in 1901 and early 1902. The Deerings made one pro- 
 posal for a combination of harvesting machine businesses that in- 
 volved equal interests between the two companies. The McCor- 
 micks declined. They felt entitled to "preponderating" influence. 
 
222 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 Later the Deerings suggested a corporation based on the McCor- 
 micks' desire for majority and the proposition was argued for 
 weeks. In March, 1901 Mr. Cyrus H. McCormick met Mr. William 
 Deering in St. Augustine, and the conference promised well. In 
 the summer the men of both houses conferred repeatedly in the 
 Palmer House, obstacles were encountered, and suddenly the 
 Deerings closed the subject. At one time the McCormicks asked 
 the Deerings if they would care to sell out on a cash basis. The 
 Deerings thought the McCormicks would not accept any figure 
 they would name and named none. The McCormicks in turn ad- 
 vanced a "third company plan," wherein each of the two big com- 
 panies should retain control of its own business but with a large 
 minority interest in the other, and a third company, controlled by 
 both, should be formed through consolidation of three minor har- 
 vesting machine companies. 
 
 Along with thoughts of consolidation were considerations of 
 ways to secure capital for the McCormick Harvesting Machine 
 Company — perhaps to accomplish a merger, perhaps to enlarge 
 the company if they should decide to go on alone. The Exposition 
 of 1900 had given the McCormicks a greatly heightened enthusi- 
 asm for the development of their foreign trade. They had met ma- 
 chine people from all over the world and had seen opportunity in 
 world-wide perspective. Expansion was on their minds and hence 
 plans to secure capital. Mr. Cyrus H. McCormick sought the ad- 
 vice of various lawyers and bankers and other financial men. One 
 who came in close touch was Francis Lynde Stetson, eminent 
 lawyer who had been J. P. Morgan's attorney in the formation of 
 the United States Steel Corporation. Mr. Stetson consulted with 
 the McCormicks, including Mrs. McCormick, at the Rush Street 
 house in many-hour sessions and advised about bankers, negotia- 
 tors, and all the questions of whether and how. If a merger were 
 to be made, Mr. Stetson thought Mr. McCormick should do the 
 actual negotiating himself, and he appears to have sympathized 
 with the McCormick wish not "to go to Wall Street" for capital 
 because of the vast expense. But on one of the visits Mr. McCor- 
 mick paid to his office, he suggested that Mr. McCormick should 
 call on Mr. Morgan. After all, Mr. Morgan's father, Junius S. 
 Morgan, and Cyrus Hall McCormick the inventor had been 
 
THE OLD ORDER PASSES 223 
 
 friends. Mr. McCormick went "for a moment, but not on busi- 
 ness." 
 
 Meantime by 1901 Mr. John D. Rockefeller, who had not cared 
 to go along when the Deering option was in hand in 1897, was in- 
 terested to hear about the McCormicks' business, merger plans and 
 all, and offered, when the right moment should come, to partici- 
 pate. Though available papers do not reveal all the steps of this 
 relation, they do show that the McCormicks liked the idea so well 
 that they were prepared to accept less than a controlling share in 
 a merger if Mr. Rockefeller should take a large enough share so 
 that when he voted with them they would control. And Mrs. 
 McCormick was wholly delighted with the prospect of a Rocke- 
 feller connection. 
 
 Thus matters stood when in June of 1902 Mr. McCormick went 
 to New York in the financial interest of the company. Capital was 
 needed and the company had borrowed to its limit in the ordinary 
 way of borrowing. Whether the company was to push ahead with 
 the expansion of its foreign trade and build up raw material re- 
 sources to offset the Deerings' recent energetic development along 
 this line, or to enter into combination with other harvesting ma- 
 chine companies, money was needed. So Mr. McCormick went to 
 New York. No contemporary paper gives his exact purpose and 
 plan in going and in having his brothers join him. Nor can this nar- 
 rative claim to retell all their movements. But a remarkably inter- 
 esting group of reports sent back to Mrs. McCormick for study, 
 shows a clear evolution of their ideas and plans as to consolidation. 
 
 In different combinations the McCormick men again inter- 
 viewed several lawyers and financiers, seeking their judgment on 
 the possibility of an amalgamation, and in particular on the "third 
 company" plan which was then the current plan before McCor- 
 micks and Deerings. This plan was dismissed as almost certain to 
 be pronounced illegal, and the McCormicks came to a point where 
 they definitely decided that they and the Deerings should no 
 longer deal personally with each other. 
 
 The first thought was to employ personal negotiators, and they 
 had tentatively decided that Francis Lynde Stetson and their own 
 attorney, Cyrus Bentley, should represent the McCormicks. But 
 another suggestion determined their course. Mr. John D. Rocke- 
 
224 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 feller, Jr. offered to get from George W. Perkins, Morgan's 
 junior partner whom he knew well, an opinion on Mr. Stetson's 
 suitability for the purpose. The outcome was that Mr. Perkins, 
 praising Mr. Stetson as a lawyer rather than as a negotiator, inti- 
 mated that he himself might be interested. 
 
 Straight from Mr. Rockefeller's office Cyrus and Stanley 
 McCormick went to see Mr. Perkins, a short talk was followed by 
 a long one, and, in Mr. Cyrus H. McCormick's words, "In the 
 search for proper representative mediators, we came upon the idea 
 of acting through Morgan & Co. on a moderate basis of proper 
 charge." For more than a week there was a succession of meetings 
 with Mr. Perkins and of consultations with William Nelson Crom- 
 well, whom the McCormicks had employed as their New York 
 legal consultant. It was the record of these intensive conferences, 
 filled with technicalities of organizing and financing, that the 
 McCormick men, united in favor of proceeding, sent home to their 
 mother and their sister Mrs. Blaine to read and weigh before they 
 returned. The plan was not yet complete, but there was enough 
 to show the difference between this and all previous plans for get- 
 ting together; for the McCormicks were agreeing to sell their 
 company to Morgan and Company, and Mr. Perkins, for the house 
 of Morgan, was to have almost complete control of organizing a 
 proposed new company. 
 
 On June 23 the family — lacking Stanley, who was held in New 
 York by illness — gathered at 135 Rush Street for a decisive con- 
 ference on the important question: should they sell their own 
 family-controlled business to become, if Mr. Perkins's trading 
 operations should succeed, part of a great combination? Cyrus and 
 Harold McCormick told their mother and sister the whole 
 story, and Cyrus McCormick's diary reports: "They agreed with 
 our plans and will vote with us." It was not yet a vote to combine, 
 but a vote to proceed in that direction along the lines proposed. 
 
 Then the brothers dug into the additional facts and figures that 
 Mr. Perkins had asked them, if the vote proved favorable, to bring 
 to New York. 
 
 No other company was approached until the McCormicks had 
 made their decision; but in the following weeks five companies 
 were involved: The McCormick Harvesting Machine Company, 
 the Deering Harvester Company, Warder, Bushnell & Glessner 
 
THE OLD ORDER PASSES 225 
 
 Company, the Piano Company, and the Milwaukee Harvester 
 Company. And the Milwaukee firm was being purchased through 
 the instrumentality of the McCormicks, by the house of Morgan 
 itself, to sell to the projected new company. 
 
 In July representatives of the competing firms, invited by Mr. 
 Perkins, came to New York for conferences — not joint con- 
 ferences, but dealings with Mr. Perkins. And in July Mrs. McCor- 
 mick joined her sons. Her daughter, Mrs. Blaine, though in close 
 and constant touch, did not actually share the mid-summer sessions. 
 
 It was New York at its worst, that hot July of 1902. In their 
 mid-town hotel the four McCormicks with their attorneys and 
 aids, and part of the time Eldridge Fowler, worked at high ten- 
 sion. Mr. Perkins, now fully launched on the project, moved 
 among the various groups of harvesting machine men with the 
 object of buying the properties of each company and creating a 
 new organization. On some days the McCormicks had three inter- 
 views with Mr. Perkins, the first at half past eight in the morning. 
 Usually these talks were held in the hotel, sometimes in offices. In 
 between, the McCormick brothers and their attorneys conferred 
 on points just raised or points to be raised; and Mrs. McCormick 
 had a place in the consultations. Twice Harold McCormick took 
 train to consult with Mr. Rockefeller not only about his contem- 
 plated investment in the new company, but for the benefit of his 
 advice in general. All the other hours were filled with work over 
 figures and plans. 
 
 There were many hurdles to take, even after all the companies 
 had agreed in principle to proceed. There were even moments 
 when the whole thing threatened to collapse. The McCormicks, 
 unfamiliar with such procedures, had not at first fully grasped the 
 implications of the Morgan control — hadn't realized that even the 
 slate of officers was to be settled without their advance knowl- 
 edge. There was much to be determined about the amount of 
 capital and the share each would have. John D. Rockefeller's par- 
 ticipation in the business was a theme for repeated discussion. 
 Methods of appraisal were an important subject. 
 
 It was day and night work — "Oh! the toil, in these rooms, of 
 these two weeks!" Mrs. McCormick wrote. "Oh! the night work 
 of our dear boys! " One night, she said, they worked all night. But 
 by July 28 the consolidation was practically complete. Con- 
 
2 26 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 tracts for the sale of the five companies were signed. "For weal or 
 woe the die is cast," Mrs. McCormick wrote to Harriet, "and a 
 tremendous responsibility it was — "Perhaps never in the history of 
 industry or trade or finance has such a mountain of responsibility 
 rested upon individual members of one family." 
 
 Acceptance was not easy for her, and as the negotiations were 
 approaching conclusion she held up decision for perhaps four days, 
 while she weighed all the details. The pull of her mind was toward 
 what had been founded by her husband, cherished by her and her 
 children. Sentiment ran strong and deep for going on as they were, 
 so that the business might be on its own — "feeling too the heavy 
 weight of responsibility upon me, as the only one left of the older 
 generation." She feared lest the thing that had been theirs should 
 no longer be theirs. But though all this weight of sentiment, cau- 
 tion, loyalty, and natural reluctance to change, retarded her, she 
 did not hold back when the case was clear. The weight of evidence 
 in the situation — the common sense that called for combination — 
 won her and she went along, carefully, guardedly, but as usual 
 with complete devotion of ability and interest. Her close sharing 
 in those days of strain in the old Manhattan Hotel was by no means 
 the least of her contributions to the family business. 
 
 When the end was in sight she went away to the mountains with 
 Stanley, who had almost broken under the complex strains. But 
 even in her Adirondack camp her mind busily followed the final 
 arrangements. On August 12 the International Harvester Com- 
 pany was launched. 
 
 Mr. Rockefeller was in the picture now with a large block of 
 stock (enough to give the McCormicks and "impartial capital" a 
 majority) and large loans to follow. The house cleaning that in 
 1897 he had thought necessary had taken place, largely through the 
 activities of that energetic new broom, Harold McCormick, his 
 son-in-law, and he believed in the business. 
 
 All stock certificates were deposited with the house of Morgan, 
 and for ten years the affairs of the new company were to be con- 
 ducted by a Voting Trust, consisting of George Perkins, Charles 
 Deering, and Cyrus H. McCormick — an arrangement that insured 
 continuity of management in formative years and made control 
 on the part of either leading company impossible. It was a severe 
 limitation on power to act, from which the McCormicks were 
 
THE OLD ORDER PASSES 227 
 
 glad to be released when the time came. The company was capi- 
 talized for 120 million dollars, which included no water whatever. 
 Its president was Cyrus H. McCormick. Harold F. McCormick 
 was one of three vice presidents and a member of the Executive 
 Committee, and all three McCormick brothers and Eldridge 
 Fowler were directors — all chosen, under the terms of the arrange- 
 ment, by Mr. Perkins. 
 
 When Cyrus McCormick telegraphed his mother the list of offi- 
 cers, she wired back proud congratulations and wrote: "I deem 
 it an honor, — and it is one you both merit. You have, side by side, 
 worked for this great Institution, and there are few Institutions in 
 any country so great — so honorable!" 
 
 There was to be along with relief a continuance of strain. An 
 immediate concern — part, indeed, of the organization of the com- 
 pany — was appraisals. This work was to be done by experts, but 
 Mrs. McCormick was anxious lest the company so precious to her 
 should not secure complete justice. She exhorted the McCormick 
 people as the procedure began to be watchful. It took so long that 
 eventually the companies authorized Mr. Perkins to make the final 
 determinations. Mrs. McCormick was not at all surprised when 
 the outcome of the appraisals showed a clear superiority for the 
 McCormicks and an over-all figure embarrassingly larger than 
 Mr. Perkins's estimate in fixing the capitalization. 
 
 One undertaking of the McCormick family, which practically 
 constituted the McCormick Harvesting Machine Company, must 
 have given them deep pleasure. Shortly after the new organization 
 was formed, they decided to give their old employees a bonus. 
 Probably the idea originated with Stanley McCormick. Both Mr. 
 Cyrus H. McCormick and his mother have been credited with the 
 generous thought — an indication that it was in harmony with the 
 attitude of the family as a whole. Certainly all fell in with the idea. 
 The actual distribution was delayed far beyond the time they 
 chose, the autumn of 1902; but it was apparently completed in the 
 early part of 1904. 
 
 In general the plan was based on length of service and current 
 salary, but there were conditioning factors. Fifteen thousand 
 shares of the old company stock were deposited by the members 
 of the family on a carefully worked out plan, and certificates were 
 issued for exchange with International Harvester Company stock. 
 
228 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 These were sent to former employees of certain classes, to active 
 employees, to many others thought to be suitably in line for the 
 gift. The distribution brought heartwarming responses. 
 
 The organization of the company was by no means complete 
 when it was incorporated in August, and as early as October of 
 that same year Mr. McCormick was telling Mr. Perkins of his 
 dissatisfactions. He felt that an equality between the Deerings and 
 the McCormicks was being set up that was not justified by the 
 facts, including the facts already disclosed in the McCormicks' 
 favor by the appraisals. There were to be many complaints from 
 both sides before the company was finally smoothed into shape. 
 
 "It is weaving life with three threads," Mrs. McCormick once 
 wrote. At the moment she was thinking of three temporary prob- 
 lems; but at any time in her mature life the expression might have 
 applied to business, family affairs, philanthropies. 
 
 Though business pushed for attention in these early iqoo's, 
 grievous family matters also absorbed heart and mind. Three times 
 in about the first half of the decade the death of a beloved grand- 
 child drew greatly on Mrs. McCormick for herself and for her 
 stricken children. The first was John Rockefeller McCormick, 
 firstborn of Harold and Edith, the second their infant daughter 
 Editha. "Jack," a boy of four, was a child of remarkable personal- 
 ity and promise. When very early in 1901 he died of scarlet fever at 
 his grandfather Rockefeller's home in Tarrytown, New York 
 (while his little brother Harold Fowler lay ill of the same dread 
 disease), the whole family mourned him deeply with a sense of 
 the loss not only to themselves but to the little boy's generation. 
 His grandmother McCormick expressed what they all felt: "His 
 mind was so poised that he was every way charming to converse 
 with. For two hours he would do the things we were doing, 
 whether looking at pictures or reading the story, without once 
 running away. How I loved that golden hair; that spirited little 
 figure, springing over his toy wagons with a leap and bound, — that 
 obedient little spirit — which, even if crying, would cry so softly/ 
 as if disciplined to hold himself in. . . . His home and all the 
 places where he has been are filled with his strong personality. 
 Young as he was, he always left an impression of great strength of 
 character." 
 
 Four years later Elizabeth, only daughter of Cyrus and Harriet 
 
THE OLD ORDER PASSES 229 
 
 McCormick, died with shocking suddenness after an operation. A 
 girl of twelve, Elizabeth was already taller than her grandmother 
 and mature beyond her years. She was greatly gifted and had 
 written both music and poems. Grandmother and granddaughter 
 had been very close, held thus partly no doubt by the marked re- 
 semblance of the child to her grandmother in appearance, mind, 
 nature. The two used to visit together, sitting hand in hand. "A 
 precious understanding between us; — and oh, I have no friend 
 now, like that!" 
 
 Meantime, a few months before Elizabeth's death, Mrs. McCor- 
 mick had been obliged to face a happy event that was neverthe- 
 less an ordeal. Her remaining child, who had lived alone with her 
 in the family home for several years, married. In the fall of 1903 
 Stanley met and fell in love with Katharine Dexter. She was the 
 daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Wirt Dexter of Chicago. Mr. Dexter had 
 been a prominent and wealthy lawyer there with a home on Prairie 
 Avenue, and the Dexter and McCormick families were ac- 
 quainted. He died when Katharine was a young girl, and some 
 years later Mrs. Dexter and her daughter moved to Boston. At the 
 time when Stanley McCormick's interest began she was in her final 
 year at the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. 
 
 That summer Stanley told his mother of their engagement. 
 Then the Dexters went abroad. Stanley speedily followed and 
 presently from Europe came the announcement of engagement 
 and of wedding date. The time before the wedding was so brief 
 that the family was thrown into great activity of planning attend- 
 ance. Because of his wife's health Harold McCormick could not go, 
 much to the regret of both "little boys"; nor could Mrs. Blaine and 
 her young son. But Mrs. McCormick, Cyrus and Harriet and their 
 son Cyrus, Eldridge Fowler and his wife, Margaret Brewer 
 Fowler, whom he had married the autumn before, and Mr. 
 Fowler's fifteen-year-old daughter Kate all journeyed to Geneva, 
 where the wedding took place. Mrs. McCormick went long enough 
 in advance to stay with Stanley in Paris while he shopped for a 
 perfect strand of matched pearls for his bride, and then to spend 
 a week at Aix-les-Bains visiting with Katharine Dexter and her 
 mother. 
 
 There were two wedding ceremonies: a civil one in the sixteenth 
 century Hotel de Ville and a religious one, performed by a clergy- 
 
230 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 man from home in the lovely Chapel of the Maccabees near the 
 Cathedral. A group of relatives and friends were the fortunate 
 spectators, some perhaps sharing in the picturesque walk from one 
 fine old building to the other. And Mrs. McCormick could not 
 have been the only one to thrill at the beauty of the tall young 
 couple as they moved through the beautiful day. She herself sup- 
 plied no small part of the charm of the picture, exquisite as she 
 was in gray brocaded satin and lace and dainty shirred bonnet with 
 an elegant aigrette. 
 
 There was a luncheon at the hotel where the Dexters stayed, 
 and then the bridal couple were gone to an ideal honeymoon 
 place: a pleasant hotel perched several thousand feet above Lake 
 Geneva at Caux, where they could feel sequestered from the 
 world, at the same time looking out on the world in a magnificent 
 view of Lake Geneva and the Alps beyond. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick, lingering to take a cure at Bad Nauheim, was 
 drawn home by distressing news of her brother. Eldridge Fowler's 
 health had been unsound for some time and he had been taking the 
 waters at Carlsbad and Bad Nauheim in hope of improvement; but 
 in spite of his better judgment he had gone to his nephew's wed- 
 ding instead of sailing for home. The family had started west 
 shortly after, but sultry weather had made the voyage trying for 
 him and he had declined rapidly. A cablegram told his sister that 
 he was seriously ill in a New York hotel. Hastening home, she had 
 only two days with him and spent these in helping to get him off 
 for California and arranging the utmost in medical care. She stayed 
 on for a time to offer aid and comfort to her dearly loved niece, 
 Clara Fowler Fleming (daughter of Eldridge and Mary Fowler), 
 also desperately ill in the same hotel. It was the final chapter in 
 Clara's long illness like that of her own mother, extending over 
 years of persistent search for a healing climate and way of living. 
 She, too, with her husband and little daughter, had been in Europe 
 during summer and fall, but she was far too ill to go to her 
 cousin's wedding. 
 
 Before this month of November was over father and daughter 
 had both died after returning to California. Mrs. McCormick, 
 grieving deeply for both, had the comfort of a close, enduring 
 friendship with her brother's widow and the devotion of her 
 lovely young niece Kate and Clara's engaging little girl Marjorie. 
 
THE OLD ORDER PASSES 23 I 
 
 Her brother had gone along with her and her sons in the forma- 
 tion of the International Harvester Company. Now, in the trou- 
 bled years of hammering the new company into shape, his coun- 
 sel was to be lacking and missed. 
 
 It was a slow, painful process — fusing five independent com- 
 panies accustomed to exist in the sharpest rivalry — especially the 
 two giants, McCormick and Deering. "The trouble was," Harold 
 McCormick said, "we came together as enemies — and not as 
 friends," though this did not affect their social relations. A year 
 was needed to set up a working organization, and it was some time 
 before the fierce fighters in the selling field really knew they were 
 no longer rivals. As for the heads, the company was organized on 
 a basis of balance in positions and powers; and many an incident 
 caused unhappy emotion on one side or the other. Mr. Perkins was 
 repeatedly called in to listen and asked for aid in determining a 
 course of action, though more than once the McCormicks felt that 
 Mr. Perkins himself was swayed toward the Deerings or in his 
 own interest. 
 
 The year 1906 was critical. Profits were down and the Deerings 
 were greatly dissatisfied with "McCormick management." Opin- 
 ions differed as to what they wanted — to run the business them- 
 selves or to get their money out — possibly because they differed 
 among themselves — father, two sons, a son-in-law. At any rate, 
 intensive conferences took place in New York this summer as in 
 1902 with Mr. Perkins going back and forth between the McCor- 
 micks and the Deerings. 
 
 Several different plans of reorganization were proposed and dis- 
 cussed to exhaustion. Different set-ups of officers were considered, 
 "neutral management" even, with an employee president and no 
 millionaire in office at all. There were rumors of dire possibilities 
 — such as destruction of property — and there was much bitter- 
 ness. As Cyrus Bentley, general counsel for the International 
 Harvester Company, wisely said: "The question of the organiza- 
 tion was really a very minor question; . . . the real difficulty 
 about profits had been that the Company was creating a new busi- 
 ness and . . . the creating of a new business was slow work . . . 
 the unsatisfactory state of profits was due ten times as much to the 
 necessity of creating new business as to any details of the organiza- 
 tion or the officering of the Company." 
 
232 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 Late in the year a solution was found: early in 1907 the capital 
 stock, without being increased, was divided equally between pre- 
 ferred and common, seven per cent dividends being paid on the 
 preferred, none on the common (in 1903 three per cent and in 
 the three following years four per cent had been paid on the whole 
 stock) . This solution satisfied the Deerings in that they could now 
 have a stock they could sell — and could give away too, creditably, 
 in donations to favored causes. 
 
 But the tensions of the year 1906 had been high, the strain 
 severe. And on no one more severe than on Stanley McCormick, 
 climaxing a strain of several hard years. In 1901 he had been over- 
 working in his relation to the business since he became acting 
 superintendent of the McCormick Harvesting Machine Company 
 Works and for many months had arrived at the factory on the 
 stroke of seven o'clock. Whether this early arrival and the long 
 hours were necessary was a point of discussion even then; but at 
 any rate Stanley was being thus nervously worn. Then came the 
 intense work of that hot summer of 1902, when the McCormick 
 brothers, inexperienced in such negotiations, all felt heavily bur- 
 dened. "One of Stanley's qualities . . . ," his mother wrote, "is 
 his inborn trait of thoroughness. He sifts a subject to the bottom, 
 and such examinations are exhausting to him." 
 
 His marriage and a long honeymoon brought an interlude in 
 business concentrations and an opportunity to put first the living 
 of a healthful easy life, prescribed by physicians. This Katharine 
 and Stanley did — skating, skiing, snowshoeing, staying long hours 
 out of doors in the bracing cold of a Swiss mountain winter, then 
 traveling in leisurely fashion by car in Italy. 
 
 But the problems of helping to "create a new business" were 
 waiting for him on his return. And in the summer of 1906 his 
 physicians forbade nearly all work in the business. At first Katha- 
 rine and Stanley had lived in Chicago, part of the time at 1 3 5 Rush 
 Street in rooms altered for their needs; but now their home was in 
 Brookline, Massachusetts in a house arranged to give Stanley the 
 maximum of outdoor rest. He shared in business counsels princi- 
 pally when his brothers came to Boston to talk with him. 
 
 How much this strain of application to difficult problems con- 
 tributed to his tragic breakdown that fall is a question. Back of the 
 business strain in terms of overwork was that of being in business 
 
THE OLD ORDER PASSES 233 
 
 at all instead of in art. There were perhaps strains in personal rela- 
 tionships. 
 
 At any rate that November his nervous system gave way and he, 
 like his elder sister, lived thereafter in shadow. 
 
 The agony of this illness to his mother, still — and always — 
 engrossed by her daughter's care, may be imagined. Though the 
 initiative for details of his care and treatment could not rest with 
 her, she entered into every phase with devotion of time, thought, 
 love. Eventually, when there was no promise of recovery, con- 
 servators were appointed on the motion of Katharine McCormick 
 with the approval of Stanley's own family. But though she heard 
 from him a little and of him much, Mrs. McCormick was not to 
 see her adored youngest child again except at a distance. 
 
 Her life was changed now, not in essential interests but in 
 emphasis. Two ill children drew on her heart, her thought, her 
 time. Relatives, on both her husband's side and in her own lines, to 
 whom she had given money, thought, and attention throughout 
 the years, still looked to her. Some of her gifts were for support or 
 care of illness, but a large number provided education for young 
 kinfolk in domestic science, music, general courses. Often she re- 
 quired these recipients of her aid to keep careful accounts of their 
 expenditures, which she or her secretary checked. And they were 
 made to know she was watching by an occasional comment or 
 question. Others besides relatives were on her continuing list of 
 proteges, especially young people whom she sent to school. 
 
 Her gifts and attention to chosen causes claimed more and more 
 time. But, though the need of her in the business gradually less- 
 ened, the affairs of the new company were constantly before her, 
 as her files testify, filled as they are with copies of the letters of 
 her sons Cyrus and Harold and of other International Harvester 
 Company officials as various problems pressed or new lines of 
 activity opened. 
 
 It was a relief to all concerned when the ten years of the Voting 
 Trust were over. Cyrus McCormick wrote about it feelingly and 
 his mother, replying, said: "The import of the date is fully appre- 
 ciated — marking the passing of a regime most trying for ten long 
 years. I rejoice that you, and we all, have lived to see its termina- 
 tion." 
 
 There had been problems, anxiety, troubles, but there had also 
 
234 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 been many satisfactions. The company was firmly established, and 
 though Mrs. McCormick could say wistfully, "when we were 
 McCormick Company (those dear days)/' and probably never 
 ceased to regret the loss of the founder's name, she was proud of 
 the International Harvester Company. 
 
 The manufacture of harvesting machines had been supple- 
 mented by the manufacture of other lines of agricultural machin- 
 ery, so that employment in either producing or selling was no 
 longer seasonal and intermittent. Jobs were all-year jobs. The ex- 
 pansion of foreign trade had been one of the chief objects of the 
 company and it had succeeded. Manufacturing plants and new dis- 
 tributing agencies had been set up in many foreign countries. The 
 business had become world-wide, international. In welfare meas- 
 ures and working conditions much progress had been made, and 
 in all this Mrs. McCormick had shared with sympathetic interest 
 and helpful counsel. A system of profit sharing had been devel- 
 oped, under which more than 3600 of the employees had become 
 stockholders. A pension system, one of the earliest in the country, 
 had been established. A plan for compensation in case of injury 
 or death had been put into effect early — in fact, President Cyrus 
 H. McCormick claimed, "it anticipated the earliest workmen's 
 compensation law in the United States by nearly two years." And 
 though Mrs. McCormick's papers do not show her activity in con- 
 nection with these various movements, her grandson Fowler 
 McCormick, for some years president of the company, does not 
 hesitate, out of his associations with grandmother, uncle, and fa- 
 ther, to ascribe much credit for advanced positions to Nettie 
 Fowler McCormick. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick took active part in an International Harvester 
 Company matter in 191 3, when she was seventy-eight. At the 
 Company's twine mill in Auburn, New York there was a walkout, 
 based on no complaint of its workers, in sympathy with strikers at 
 the Columbia Cordage Company of Auburn. Almost four weeks 
 had been lost from the work of filling important contracts for the 
 foreign twine market, with the harvest season nearing. Transfer 
 of the twine mill machinery to a point on the seaboard was already 
 under discussion and this trouble threatened to precipitate action. 
 One morning in mid-April Mrs. McCormick was startled to read 
 in the Tribune that part of the machinery was forthwith to be 
 
THE OLD ORDER PASSES 235 
 
 moved. Both Cyrus and Harold were out of the country. So she 
 went at once to the International Harvester office and in the corri- 
 dor encountering Judge Post, general attorney of the Company, 
 learned that the report was true. Judge Post held that the 
 Auburn plant was too far from the seaboard to be economical. 
 Mrs. McCormick replied: "If it is best to move it, as a business 
 measure, let it be done; but not now in the limelight of publicity, 
 and passion, inviting further outrage from unreasoning employ- 
 ees." The point of this was that the Company was then under fire 
 in a suit against it under the Sherman law. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick took her arguments with her into the office of 
 Mr. Legge, general manager, who had just returned after four 
 days' effort to settle the differences. Mr. Legge was "firmly set to 
 move the machinery." He had a telegram ready to send to the 
 New York State Commissioner of Labor to the effect that "the 
 Company had reached the limit of effort." Seeing it, Mrs. AlcCor- 
 mick said, "Mr. Legge, this closes the door." She reviewed for him 
 the experience which dictated her caution — "the awful episode in 
 1886 . . . all arising from the unwisdom of Averill" — and urged 
 that "moving the machinery now would be rendered spectacular 
 by the nature of the case." There had been a plea for delay from 
 Governor Sulzer of New York, whose proffered services, she 
 said, should not be rejected. She argued that the anger of the 650 
 employees, mostly women, when they saw the machinery — their 
 only means of livelihood — actually loaded and moved out, would 
 lead to a collision with the troops, ending in bloodshed. 
 
 Others in the office were drawn into the discussion, Mrs. 
 McCormick valiantly holding her ground. When she saw that 
 two of the group were leaning toward the delay for which she 
 argued, she said that in so grave a crisis they should have the ad- 
 vice of John P. Wilson, general counsel of the company. He was 
 immediately summoned, he came, and his counsel was for delay. 
 "Thus the night closed on us." 
 
 The next day an order was sent to "suspend things for a few 
 days," in deference to Governor Sulzer's request. And the citi- 
 zens of Auburn took a hand, acting to end the strike. Mrs. McCor- 
 mick wrote to her son Harold that between Mr. Wilson "and your 
 Mother and the Governor we have stopped proceedings. Thank- 
 ful I am!" 
 
PARTY 
 
 THE OUTSTRETCHED HAND 
 
 "He who does the work is not so productively 
 employed as he who multiplies the doers." 
 
 — Thomas Chalmers, quoted in 
 the Life of Samuel Morley, by 
 Edwin Hodder 
 
(_^n.ap£er 17 
 
 LIGHT CENTERS 
 
 IN THE MOUNTAINS 
 
 Wh 
 
 HEN Mrs. McCormick decided to build McCormick 
 Hall at Greeneville and Tusculum College, she did not realize that 
 she was lighting the first of a series of torches to illuminate dark 
 places in the Southern mountains. But her interest in this country 
 and its people grew and became one of her greatest channels of 
 benevolence, one to which we devote a separate chapter. 
 
 The movement of her personal and business life is readily fol- 
 lowed chronologically. Part of the detail of that personal life was 
 her concern with several outstanding causes — interviews, letters, 
 decisions, gifts — which over long years entered into the pattern of 
 her days. But to see her relation to these causes clearly, we must 
 abandon tracing them through the complexities of her other inter- 
 ests and look at each, as it concerned her, as a whole. This method 
 has already been followed with McCormick Theological Semi- 
 nary and is here applied to schools for the Southern mountain peo- 
 ple, with foreign missions and international student work to come 
 in similar treatment. 
 
 The mountain country had appealed to her imagination from 
 her early knowledge of it. In the fall after that first pledge was 
 made to Tusculum her son Cyrus visited Eastern Tennessee and 
 wrote a description of it to his mother. "We have fallen in love 
 with that almost unknown land," she wrote back to him. "It is, 
 strange to say, just what I pictured it from long treasured fancies 
 about this country so much talked of during the war." (This was 
 long before radio and movies had brought the mountain people 
 close.) 
 
 She had herself spent some time in the Highland country, estab- 
 lishing her daughter Virginia in a house at Maryville, Tennessee 
 
 239 
 
24O NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 near the Chilhowee range. Later when this daughter's winter resi- 
 dence had been set up first at Asheville, then at Huntsviile, Ala- 
 bama, Mrs. McCormick saw the mountain country in the course of 
 her Southern visits. Always she brought back enthusiasm over 
 something magical in the light and air, the color in the foliage and 
 the hills — something that enhanced her interest in the people and in 
 the schools she fostered. 
 
 Her gifts to Tennessee colleges, five of them, were made long 
 after their pioneer stage. But her next step, right into the moun- 
 tains in Tennessee, Kentucky, and North Carolina, placed her al- 
 most among the founders. 
 
 Education through all this vast difficult region was still in an 
 early stage. Public schools were few, offering at best only from 
 three to five months in the year and almost inaccessible to people 
 living in roadless isolation deep in the mountains. For a long time, 
 after a pioneer period, the church outside the mountains had neg- 
 lected them. Gradually, denominations and sects that did not care 
 for an educated ministry came into the mountains and fixed a type 
 of religious experience that is still characteristic: the insistence on 
 sudden conversion, the sharp vividness of heaven and hell, the stern 
 limitation on pleasure. Primitive Baptists, Old Regulars, Free 
 Methodists, Holiness groups predominated. But in the last quarter 
 of the nineteenth century several of the major denominations re- 
 turned to the forgotten people with evangelistic and educational 
 agencies. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick's first undertaking in mountain schools lower 
 than college rank was in a Southern Presbyterian field — Jackson 
 Collegiate Institute at Jackson, Kentucky, county seat of Breathitt 
 County, long known for murderous feuds. Situated on the Ken- 
 tucky River and newly reached by the railroad, Jackson was 
 clearly a strategic point. 
 
 One of Mrs. McCormick's teachers, Mr. F. F. M. Richardson, 
 has vividly pictured the place: 
 
 "Dragged through the winter mud of the two streets in a glass- 
 windowed hack, powered by two big horses, the visitor arriving 
 on the noon train saw Jackson. Those arriving on the night train 
 only felt it. 
 
 "An eight-ox team was not uncommon in the streets of Jackson. 
 Such teams had generally come from 'up Lonesome' or some other 
 
LIGHT CENTERS IN THE MOUNTAINS 24 1 
 
 creek leading back into the interior. . . . Sometimes they brought 
 boys and girls for a winter in school although more often these 
 walked, or sometimes came on the hack that carried the infrequent 
 mail. 
 
 "AH nights in Jackson except moonlight nights were 'black outs.' 
 ... A coal oil lantern became an evening accessory. ... At a 
 night church service the lanterns were turned low and parked 
 under the seats. Sometimes the put-put-put of a struggling flicker- 
 ing flame became a highly speculative matter all to the exclusion 
 of the minister's forensic effort. Sometimes a sleeping dog, stepped 
 on by a late comer into the pew, upset a lantern or two in a hasty 
 
 exit." 
 
 But Mrs. McCormick's information about the school came from 
 Dr. L. H. Blanton, a Southern minister and a former Confederate 
 soldier, who was Chancellor of Central University at Richmond, 
 Kentucky and thus itinerant supervisor of several secondary 
 schools, including the one at Jackson. 
 
 The seed of information thus sown sprouted only a little for 
 several years. But in 1897 Mrs. McCormick and Jackson Institute's 
 special benefactor, Mrs. S. P. Lees of New York, each gave five 
 thousand dollars to a fund for enlarging the main building. 
 The name of the school changed then to the S. P. Lees Collegiate 
 Institute, offering work from primary through high school. 
 
 In the school year 1899- 1900 Mrs. McCormick contributed ex- 
 pensive outfits for domestic science and manual training (rather 
 new ideas then in which she strongly believed) and assumed the 
 salary of a teacher for each department; she made possible the 
 erection of McCormick Chapel, a combination day and Sunday 
 school "across the river" for the children of desperately poor min- 
 ers' families and supplied a teacher. She gave to the manual training 
 department an electric light plant, the first electric light in Jack- 
 son, and her son Stanley contributed a mechanical drawing outfit. 
 
 All of this involved much time and thought and the exercise of 
 careful judgment by Mrs. McCormick. Often by her own hand 
 she wrote to teachers, encouraging them to share their problems 
 with her, trying to impart her eager hopes for their work which 
 to her was purest missionary endeavor. 
 
 The value of practical training for mountain girls must have 
 been clear to Mrs. McCormick from her knowledge of the Home 
 
242 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 Industrial School at Asheville, North Carolina, which she visited. 
 She knew Florence Stephenson, its first principal, under whose 
 wise leadership for thirty years the school carried new ways of do- 
 ing and thinking into the mountain cabins. She knew Frances L. 
 Goodrich, who had left her New Hampshire home with the 
 thought that the program of neighborliness of Rivington Street 
 Settlement on New York's lower East Side might be tried in the 
 mountains. When Florence Stephenson agreed, Miss Goodrich, 
 quiet, unpretentious, highly educated and cultured, came and 
 simply began being a neighbor to the mountain people near Ashe- 
 ville. Her way was to build a little house at some strategic point 
 in the mountains, where two women teachers would live and 
 begin teaching; they would organize a Sunday school and mothers' 
 meetings; and let the house shine as an example of taste, cleanliness, 
 good cooking, home atmosphere. In rocky Laurel country, she 
 began at Allan's Old Stand, later called Allanstand — the well- 
 known name, now, of the Asheville headquarters for the mountain 
 crafts that Miss Goodrich preserved and developed. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick made no large gifts to the Asheville and 
 Laurel country work; but she showed faith and interest in several 
 ways. Once when Frances Goodrich was in the North Mrs. 
 McCormick invited a company to the Rush Street house to hear 
 her tell of the Laurel work — a friendly, hospitable practice of hers 
 for many causes. More than once too she sent her workers to see 
 the Asheville schools and Laurel country settlements. 
 
 Indirectly, information that set in contrast this work and that at 
 Jackson had a part in bringing about the withdrawal of Mrs. 
 McCormick's aid from the S. P. Lees Collegiate Institute. But dis- 
 appointed as she was in certain features, she could not have been 
 in the results of her work there if she saw them as did one 
 teacher: ". . . boys and girls in those five years transformed from 
 crude untrained youth into the finest type of youth. ... Of all 
 the money Mrs. McCormick may have spent on many different 
 interests none could ever have been so highly productive as the 
 money she invested at Jackson." The school, Lees Junior College 
 now, carries on. 
 
 It was Tusculum boys who directed Mrs. McCormick's interest 
 toward the mountains. It was her own visit to Tusculum in the 
 summer of 1898 that turned a new page in the story. That summer 
 
LIGHT CENTERS IN THE MOUNTAINS 243 
 
 Mrs. McCormick and Stanley (just back from New Mexico where 
 he had bought a ranch to live on) had gone together for a brief 
 visit to Virginia McCormick at Asheville. On their way back they 
 paid a surprise visit to Tusculum — stirring the summer campus to 
 its outer fringes. 
 
 The story, told with gusto at Tusculum decades later, is that 
 their train was approaching Greeneville when, suddenly realizing 
 that this was the station for Tusculum, they determined to stop 
 over. Hurriedly gathering their luggage, they got off. They spent 
 the night at the hotel, meaning to drive unannounced the four 
 miles to Tusculum, but the hotel proprietor saw fit to speak out. 
 Whereupon word flashed from faculty home to home, from hall 
 to dormitory — Mrs. McCormick was coming! In the absence of 
 President Jere Moore, it fell to Dr. T. S. Rankin, professor and 
 treasurer, to receive the guests. When they arrived via stage and 
 carriage, the two were welcomed by a thrilled reception com- 
 mittee. 
 
 A tour of the campus took the visitors to McCormick Hall; to 
 Craig Hall, erected with a large McCormick contribution as a dor- 
 mitory for boys; to the Old College building of 1841 that was the 
 only substantial building when the McCormicks first took an inter- 
 est. All three were of brick, well built, well placed. On the side to- 
 ward Greeneville stood a log cabin, the second to be built on the 
 campus, while across the road was the red brick farmhouse of the 
 Doak family. 
 
 All these Mrs. McCormick saw, marveling meantime at the 
 Appalachians ranged in summer beauty of green forest as a campus 
 backdrop. And one may be sure, since she was an ardent lover 
 of trees, that she exclaimed in admiration of the magnificent oaks, 
 chestnuts, poplars, and evergreens that shaded all that pleasant 
 plateau. 
 
 Everywhere she inspected. Every detail of the buildings inside 
 and out came under her scrutiny. Wherever any stone was mis- 
 placed or dresser handle lacked a screw or curtain was a little torn, 
 Dr. Rankin, paper and pencil in hand, was requested to note — and 
 to remedy, at her expense. 
 
 But besides in that brief visit Mrs. McCormick lighted a small 
 candle that was to become a group of bright light centers in the 
 mountains. On that day she talked with Harlan Page Cory, who 
 
244 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 was presently to be Home Missions executive for that presbytery. 
 He told her of a community about forty miles away across the 
 divide at Burnsville in Yancey County, North Carolina that ear- 
 nestly desired a school. Burnsville was a county seat, like Jackson 
 a strategic point, for courthouse and markets drew there people 
 from the villages and cabins along the creeks and up the coves. 
 The people were isolated, far from a railroad, without public 
 schools worth the name. But they had an ambition for their chil- 
 dren and a little while before they had asked Mr. Cory's aid in 
 starting a school. It had been held in an old building, later in the 
 courthouse. Recently a Burnsville man had given four acres as a 
 site for a building and the cost of burning the first kiln of brick. 
 But there was no way to go on. Could Mrs. McCormick see this 
 as her work? She could. On the spot she authorized the expendi- 
 ture of $500 to burn the second kiln of brick and before long she 
 had pledged enough to complete the building. Her next course 
 was characteristic: she had the plans for the building sent to her, 
 studied them carefully, made detailed suggestions. By 1899, at the 
 suggestion of Mr. Cory, she named this academy the Stanley 
 McCormick School. 
 
 She must have enjoyed visualizing it — built on a high rolling 
 plateau between two fine ranges, the Black and the Green Moun- 
 tains, on the outskirts of the little town. She was to see (though 
 never with her eyes) that campus fill up with buildings of her giv- 
 ing, and still others were to rise after her death as a result of her 
 interest. For — not even excepting a period of about three years 
 when it was closed — this school remained a dear and constant 
 charge, carried on her ledgers, her mind, and her heart, through- 
 out the rest of her life. 
 
 On her way home from Tusculum Mrs. McCormick may have 
 stopped at Morristown, Tennessee. The tradition to that effect 
 persisted, but her papers do not tell the story. Here, however, is 
 perhaps the most outstanding instance of her gifts to denomina- 
 tions other than Presbyterian — a Methodist school for Negroes. 
 
 Judson S. Hill, white president of Morristown Normal and 
 Industrial College at Morristown, Tennessee, was the key to her 
 interest. He had been a young Methodist minister, directed in 1881 
 by his bishop to create a normal school for Negroes out of a little 
 grammar school in Morristown. He was practically the founder, 
 
LIGHT CENTERS IN THE MOUNTAINS 245 
 
 starting with the grammar school teacher in a small building that 
 had been church, slave mart, war hospital. Sometime he must have 
 told her the thrilling story of a boy sold with his slave mother at 
 that slave mart, who later was converted there, and became an 
 able member of the college faculty. Naturally Dr. Hill had deep 
 local prejudice to combat. But gradually he won, the annual Com- 
 mencement of the school became a town event, and when he died 
 the whole town set aside business and mourned. 
 
 Dr. Hill came to see Mrs. McCormick and through the years she 
 went along with his work, aiding in the erection of a building and 
 with current expenses. Domestic science and manual training de- 
 partments commended the work to her. Dr. Hill's accounts of the 
 boys' work at cutting timber and making brick appealed. 
 
 Early in his work the buildings began to mount the hill. The 
 little old first building remained, but a plateau on the northern side 
 of the town, with a magnificent view of mountains, held the fine 
 new structures as they rose. 
 
 Ten days after accepting her son Stanley's name for the school 
 at Burnsville, Mrs. McCormick bestowed the name of his brother 
 Harold on another school to which she had just given the breath 
 of life. This was an academy at Elizabethton in Carter County, 
 back on the Tennessee side of the divide. Davies Academy, built 
 by the community in an eager desire to educate its children, had 
 fallen into debt. Inspired by the Burnsville gift, a home missionary 
 official brought the academy's plight to Mrs. McCormick. Here 
 was another school at a strategic point. Would she set a light here 
 too? Would she lift the debt and allow the school to be deeded to 
 the Board of Home Missions? Again Mrs. McCormick said yes. 
 
 Needs of the mountain communities were brought to her in 
 increasing number as she went farther into the field. But she held 
 always to belief in concentration on a few schools in a given area. 
 "I do believe," she once wrote, "more good will be derived from 
 one strong school properly equipped and managed than from half 
 a dozen weaklings without equipment. Believing this, it would 
 seem poor policy to divide my support among so many schools 
 that none should be benefitted thereby." This principle, by the 
 way, is one that has been currently applied in the Presbyterian 
 schools of the mountains. 
 
 At two additional "strategic points" in this region Mrs. McCor- 
 
246 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 mick set school lights, smaller but needful: she housed the strug- 
 gling day school at Flag Pond, Tennessee and built an attractive 
 cottage for teachers. The two buildings brought a striking change 
 to the community, a tiny village at the entrance to a number of 
 coves. "Very few if any of the children," Mr. Cory wrote, after 
 the new building was up, "had ever seen a school desk, and the 
 ample blackboards encircling the rooms are a wonder to them." 
 Mrs. McCormick named the school for him, the Cory School. At 
 Erwin sixteen miles away, she built a teachers' home for the 
 Dwight School. Both of these were in mountainous little Unicoi 
 County. 
 
 She was now fully launched on a splendid adventure in educa- 
 tion. In the early spring of 1 90 1 Mrs. McCormick sent another pair 
 of eyes to see these mountain schools for her. Her emissary was no 
 less a person than Miss Mary McDowell, who at that time had 
 already for eight years been head of the University of Chicago 
 Settlement. "She wanted me to tell what she ought to do next," 
 said Mary McDowell years later. Besides, she wished Miss 
 McDowell to carry the settlement idea of neighborliness and 
 living-with to the mountain workers in areas beyond Frances 
 Goodrich's range. 
 
 Miss McDowell wrote the story of her trip as a report to Mrs. 
 McCormick. It is a rare picture of the mountain country besides, 
 as even a few passages will show. 
 
 The itinerary began at the Asheville schools, where Florence 
 Stephenson became Miss McDowell's guide in penetrating the 
 mountains. It included such novelties for the city settlement 
 worker as fording Big Laurel Creek eighteen times in the course 
 of a morning's drive and riding (or jolting, as her back testified) 
 in a mountain wagon from point to point in the Laurel country 
 of North Carolina and across into Tennessee. At Walnut Springs 
 Miss McDowell had her first sight of this type of home mission 
 work, a neat little schoolhouse used for a chapel as well and a 
 pretty little home where the mission worker and the teachers lived, 
 letting their model housekeeping speak for itself. 
 
 The next day's drive took her into Frances Goodrich's Laurel 
 country. "Men, women and children shyly peeped out at us, or if 
 out doors, stared with mild, wide-open eyes, suggesting some shy 
 
LIGHT CENTERS IN THE MOUNTAINS 247 
 
 creature from the depths of the woods. We always bowed as we 
 passed and bade them 'good morning,' or 'how d'y,' and re- 
 ceived in return a short, quick nod without a smile or change of 
 expression. . . . We kept seeing very primitive people industri- 
 ally, socially, and in every way one hundred years behind us. 
 There was the overshot water wheel, which gave the power to 
 cut the logs and grind the corn. There was the 'first' bridge: the 
 log leveled off on one side and laid across the creek. . . . We 
 could see through the open door of the cabins as we passed the 
 weaving loom, and on the porch was often standing the spinning 
 wheel and the flax wheel. . . ." 
 
 They had taken four or five hours to cover twelve hard miles 
 when they reached a little settlement, "lit," and crossing a branch 
 of the Big Laurel, entered a clean, attractive kitchen containing a 
 mission worker — a McCormick Seminary graduate, his wife, and 
 a Home Industrial school girl serving as cook. The young man, 
 tall and sturdy, was preacher and teacher and competent handy 
 man. 
 
 "After lunch eight little mountain girls came to the cottage to 
 start a 'fancy-work' class. Such charming little women — in linsey- 
 woolsey, of very ugly colors, but home-spun. They had wide-open 
 birdlike eyes, shy and timid, and not until I told them about my 
 little neighbor girls who came to sewing and embroidery at my 
 house, and how these little city children had no Big Laurel Creek 
 to wade in, or log bridge to walk across, and never saw the birds 
 or flowers, mountains and trees as they saw them, did they smile 
 a friendly human smile. . . ." 
 
 A mule-drawn wagon carried them on to Allanstand, to Miss 
 Goodrich's cottage and the little schoolhouse where a service was 
 being held; and on to Upper Shelton School, higher up in the 
 mountains, where another Home Industrial girl and her brother 
 were teaching and living. From this height Miss McDowell's 
 wagon, driven by an illicit distiller, jounced her into Tennessee. 
 When she insisted on climbing out on the top of the divide between 
 North Carolina and Tennessee just to get one of the galax leaves 
 and some of the holly, the driver said very gently, "Let her alone, 
 she wants to take some of the prettiness home with her." 
 
 Now she was on her way to Flag Pond. Here, at the end of 
 
248 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 about fifteen miles of rough jolting, she found on the side of a hill 
 the school and a pretty little teachers' home. She was cordially 
 welcomed and shown over the building, five large airy rooms. 
 
 Smallpox at Burnsville prevented a visit at this place so impor- 
 tant in Mrs. McCormick's school interests. But Miss McDowell vis- 
 ited Tusculum briefly. 
 
 "I could see in these earnest, sturdy fellows the wide-eyed little 
 chaps I met in the mountain schools, and felt that every one was a 
 rich reward to his best friend, who cared for his development. 
 They cheered me in a gentle boyish way, when I finished talk- 
 ing to them. I knew it was meant for the generous friend I repre- 
 sented to them." 
 
 That friend had only a short time before made to Tusculum a 
 conditioned promise of a dormitory for women. If Mary 
 McDowell had gone back just a year later she would have seen it, 
 Virginia McCormick Hall, named by the donor for her elder 
 daughter, "to be called in common parlance Virginia Hall." 
 
 Last on the schedule was the S. P. Lees Collegiate Institute. 
 Miss McDowell gave her own impression of the school in outline, 
 of the teachers and of general methods, which she considered 
 rather backward. She was generous in praise of the new depart- 
 ments and their teachers and offered concrete suggestions. 
 
 Mary McDowell made another trip a year later, with the Stan- 
 ley McCormick School as its objective. By this time Mrs. McCor- 
 mick had built there not only the school building, but also the 
 teachers' home and two cottages to be rented to families who 
 could thus send their children to school. Then she decided to build 
 a dormitory for girls, to be named Elizabeth Hall in honor of 
 her granddaughter, Elizabeth McCormick. In October of 1902 it 
 was time to decide exactly where Elizabeth Hall should stand and 
 how it should face, and Mrs. McCormick enlisted Mary McDow- 
 ell's aid. 
 
 Miss McDowell and a friend left Asheville at seven in the morn- 
 ing, driving forty miles through mountain counties. Gradually, as 
 they went higher, the autumn colors grew more brilliant; and they 
 came — at the hour of a glorious sunset — to the teachers' cottage 
 at Burnsville, set on a hillside in full view of the mountains to the 
 west and south. They were met with characteristic mountain hos- 
 pitality, though "it is not easy for these people to be hospitable, 
 
LIGHT CENTERS IN THE MOUNTAINS 249 
 
 since butter is a luxury, meat almost unheard of, and even milk of 
 a very poor quality very difficult to secure regularly." 
 
 Miss McDowell looked over the ground for the dormitory and 
 decided to have it placed on the diagonal, "thus securing the sun 
 in almost every room some time in the day. . . ." 
 
 She described the group including herself who joined in starting 
 the excavation for the foundation. "It would have filled your heart 
 with joy, to have heard these men speak of what it meant to 
 Yancey County to have the school started there. ... In their 
 simple-hearted way they would take my hand, and look me in the 
 eyes, and say how they had longed to see Mrs. McCormick, or 
 some one who knew her and could tell them about her." 
 
 Of the academies, Mrs. McCormick came to closest grips with 
 the problems of the Stanley McCormick School. She herself spoke 
 of it as "the school I have labored for and cared for for many years 
 — often working with Mr. Gorton, in years past, till late at night, 
 when I was building there or perplexed about teachers, and so on." 
 
 There were indeed numerous perplexities, concerning both 
 building and teachers. Yet so well was all done that surprise over 
 the whole set-up of the school was a characteristic reaction of visi- 
 tors, according to Laura Buffum, Mrs. McCormick's second do- 
 mestic science teacher there. She wrote, in 1905: 
 
 "Burnsville is an old, quaint place, almost unchanged since the 
 days when Charles Dudley Warner speaks of it in his 'Through 
 Virginia on Horseback.' . . . All people who come to Burnsville 
 to see us, are surprised and delighted with the school. They ex- 
 pect to find a 'little mountain school,' nothing to impress one espe- 
 cially. . . . But the fine boys and girls, their neat appearance . . . 
 the fine buildings, the numbers and departments (especially the 
 kindergarten and cooking departments) and the fact that a diploma 
 of the school, with the exception of science, carries a boy or girl 
 into one of the Southern colleges — all this in a remote mountain 
 district, far from railroads or towns, amazes and delights them." 
 
 When a new principal was to be chosen, Mrs. McCormick 
 would interview candidates. As each was selected she followed him 
 into his work with deep interest and on occasion with careful 
 supervision calculated to bring him up in the way he should go. 
 One received the following, so expressive of its writer's attention 
 to detail: 
 
250 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 "I notice the expression in yours of July 17 about the residence 
 'The gutters have blown down' but without going on to explain 
 the possibility or impossibility of their being 'lifted up' in place 
 again. . . . You will see the need of your having some practical 
 suggestions, and making mental observations — and becoming able 
 to see accurately — and to see and report to us things as they actu- 
 ally are. . . . And now we wish to ask that you will exercise some 
 oversight on this job [finishing a building] as it progresses. . . . 
 When building is going on I watch the operation narrowly." 
 
 Through a period of several years the thread of the story was 
 the pursuit of T. U. Chesebrough for principal. From their first 
 interview Mrs. McCormick was persuaded that he was the man for 
 the place and with characteristic tenacity she clung to her purpose 
 of getting him despite setbacks. Finally after the drawing up of an 
 agreement of many heads, he accepted. When all was done, Mrs. 
 McCormick was deeply content. Her secretary wrote: "Now that 
 Mr. C. is at the head Mrs. McCormick has taken fresh heart and is 
 full of enthusiasm and hope for the future of the work." 
 
 Under Mr. Chesebrough's administration, manual training ran 
 to a four-year course, including woodworking, mechanical draw- 
 ing, metal work. Instruction in agriculture was provided with an 
 elective in poultry raising. All the girls were required to take home 
 economics. Meantime the academic work held firm. 
 
 Early in 191 7 Mr. and Mrs. Chesebrough made a general survey 
 of the situation: the War and Mrs. McCormick's heavy burdens in 
 that connection; the severe disaffection of a certain group toward 
 the administration; the changing conditions in the mountains, as 
 good highways came in. Burnsville, forty miles from Asheville, 
 was close to the city when motor cars could make the trip in an 
 hour or so. This brought the better equipped mission schools of 
 Asheville and Hot Springs within reach of Yancey County boys 
 and girls. A new county high school had come into existence half a 
 mile away from the Stanley McCormick School. 
 
 So when in 19 17 Mrs. McCormick invited Mr. and Mrs. Chese- 
 brough to come and talk over conditions and criticisms, they 
 ended by laying before her a proposal that the school be discon- 
 tinued. Let Mrs. Chesebrough tell it in the light of many years 
 later. "Mrs. McCormick's first question was 'But what of the boys 
 and girls?' Then we gave her the list of the few who really needed 
 
LIGHT CENTERS IN THE MOUNTAINS 25 1 
 
 mission school help, and told her they could be cared for in other 
 schools. . . . Her broad statesmanship was so evident here. It was 
 a struggle — the school had been a dear project, named for a loved 
 son. . . . But she came to the decision, and commissioned us to 
 place forty or so boys and girls in Dorland, Asheville Normal and 
 Farm School at her expense." 
 
 Stanley McCormick School was to open again a few years later 
 for a final chapter. Meantime the Harold McCormick School was 
 about to close, for an excellent reason. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick's first gift to this institution had set it on its 
 feet — lifting the debt, finishing and furnishing the sturdy, square 
 brick school building. A few years later she built a teachers' cottage 
 to accommodate the two teachers. She provided domestic science 
 equipment. The buildings stood on a hill commanding a beautiful 
 mountain view and overlooking town, valley, two rivers — the 
 Watauga and the Doe. Whoever wrote to Mrs. McCormick of this 
 fair region always mentioned the historic sycamore near the fords 
 of the Watauga, where the Reverend Samuel Doak had prayed 
 for the doughty mountaineers who were to turn the tide of the 
 Revolution at King's Mountain. 
 
 A few years after building the cottage, Mrs. McCormick def- 
 initely took hold of the school and made it practically hers. On a 
 plan that she appears to have initiated it had been transferred from 
 the charge of the Home Missions Board to that of the trustees of 
 Greeneville and Tusculum College, to which the academy was 
 designed to supply students. A principal, Mr. William C. Clemens, 
 was secured and Mrs. McCormick paid him a fixed amount, to form 
 the basis for operating the echool. Eventually the regular school 
 term of the county was combined with the academy's work and 
 county funds supplemented the academy's income. During its 
 later years the school was flourishing in a modest way. It ceased 
 operation in 191 8 because Elizabethton's "free" school had gathered 
 sufficient strength to carry the responsibility alone; its building be- 
 came a part of that system. 
 
 The most delightful chapter of this story was the friendship of 
 Mrs. McCormick and a little boy: The third son of the principal at 
 Harold McCormick School — by no means a "sissy" — had elected 
 to study domestic science. And among other things, when he was 
 ten he made an apron of lawn, with long strings, cross-stitched the 
 
2J2 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 hem with blue silk and added clusters of blue forget-me-nots. "It 
 really was lovely," his mother admitted, "with every stitch by hand 
 — short and true." And at Christmas time he decided to send it 
 along with a box of holly to Mrs. McCormick, his parents' bene- 
 factor and friend. 
 
 The results were momentous. Mrs. McCormick, very appre- 
 ciative, wrote to the boy and the correspondence continued. When 
 Mrs. McCormick paid a between-trains visit at Tusculum the fam- 
 ily from Elizabethton was present to meet her — the parents for 
 conference, the boy to meet his friend. Their meeting was for 
 Harold Clemens a high moment. 
 
 Later she helped with his expenses at Tusculum. One year she 
 put him on the McCormick farm in Virginia. The boy turned in a 
 satisfactory summer; his bent, however, was mechanical. Eventu- 
 ally Mrs. McCormick sent him to the Massachusetts Institute of 
 Technology for a four-year course. His later career as a produc- 
 tion engineer with the Du Pont Company well justified his own 
 choice of schooling and her wise willingness to develop his gifts. 
 
 The story of this boy in relation to Mrs. McCormick is only 
 one of many such instances. To more than twenty young people 
 not relatives Mrs. McCormick supplied means of education, add- 
 ing affection and advice to her checks. Yet only one protege 
 made her an apron! 
 
 More than once serious situations arose in connection with these 
 schools. Sharp divisions of opinion over a principal or a teacher 
 cleft a community; or an official brought reasons why someone 
 should leave a school for its good. To such problems Mrs. Mc- 
 Cormick gave close attention, carefully weighing the evidence, not 
 jumping to conclusions nor exercising power with autocratic dog- 
 matism. In at least one instance she sent a representative to the spot; 
 in other situations she sought the testimony by letter of those who 
 might have light to give. In large measure she followed her usual 
 course of relying on the judgment of supervising officials whom 
 she had learned to trust; but she took no one's word blindly. In the 
 perspective of years, her decisions in the community — Burnsville 
 — where the most difficult decisions had to be made, appeared to a 
 wise onlooker who knew them closely, to have been well justified. 
 
 The Dorland Institute at Hot Springs, North Carolina, third in 
 the group of academies to which Mrs. McCormick contributed 
 
LIGHT CENTERS IN THE MOUNTAINS 253 
 
 over a long period, was in a different relation to her from the 
 schools at Burnsville and Elizabethton. She had nothing to do with 
 its founding or its administrative problems. Her contribution was 
 largely in terms of domestic science and involved a new feature: 
 "practice cottages" — the first to be used in any school under the 
 Northern Presbyterian Woman's Board of Home Missions and 
 perhaps the earliest in this region. It was Miss Julia E. Phillips, ener- 
 getic principal of the school, who had the idea. There was a four- 
 room cottage on the grounds back of the girls' dormitory, made 
 of scraps from a demolished building, but usable. If fitted up, it 
 would house six girls who, by doing all their own work under 
 direction, could learn the essentials of housekeeping. Mrs. McCor- 
 mick rose to the idea at once, providing $300 to fit up the house. 
 
 A year later Miss Phillips proposed another old cottage for 
 renovation and again without hesitation Mrs. McCormick re- 
 sponded. The same thing happened a third time. The first little 
 house did not remain in service, but the other two became McCor- 
 mick Cottages No. 1 and No. 2. They stood together on a choice 
 site at the top of a steep hill, a hill from which the girls looked up 
 to the dark mountain behind them and out over the wide circle 
 of mountains before them, beyond the town, a hill from which 
 they saw glorious sunrise and sunset and wheeling stars. 
 
 Groups of girls occupied the cottages in rotation, so that about 
 sixty had this benefit during the year. Mrs. McCormick sent a fixed 
 amount annually to maintain the cottages, and as prices rose the 
 amount was doubled. She did not meet the suggestion that the cot- 
 tages, old and rickety, should be replaced. But to provide home 
 training for all the students, she bought domestic science equip- 
 ment for installation in a wing of the dormitory, and a trained 
 teacher directed the work. 
 
 In her remaining years Mrs. McCormick was to see the "practice 
 cottage" idea put in force all along the Presbyterian line from Porto 
 Rico to Alaska. Today the Dorland-Bell School (a later name) 
 carries on its fine program as part of the Warren H. Wilson Junior 
 College at Swannanoa, North Carolina. 
 
 What Mrs. McCormick meant to Tusculum College through the 
 years is well indicated by what happens there on every February 
 8th. For her birthday has been since 191 5 "McCormick Day" on 
 the campus. She consented to this observance only on condition 
 
254 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 that the students might have active part in it and that something 
 useful might be accomplished. So "McCormick Day" has three 
 aspects: Mrs. McCormick is gratefully remembered at a beautiful 
 memorial service; the campus and buildings are subjected to an 
 energetic spring cleaning, a direct tribute to her insistence on neat- 
 ness of school grounds and buildings; and there is open house 
 throughout all the dormitories. The girls scan the boys' housekeep- 
 ing, and the boys estimate the girls', and both inspect the faculty's 
 home-making. And throughout the campus Mrs. McCormick's 
 gifts are remembered, including the gift of her warm personal 
 devotion to the college, its works, and its workers. It was on such 
 a day that, many years after her death, Mrs. McCormick's grand- 
 sons, Cyrus and Gordon McCormick, gave to Tusculum the re- 
 mainder of a trust fund that she had established. It amounted to 
 about $275,000. 
 
 Among those who attend the McCormick Day services there 
 are still, as this is written, a few who knew Mrs. McCormick. Chief 
 among them is Dr. Landon Carter Haynes, its beloved professor 
 emeritus of mathematics, ninety-nine years old, who can look all 
 the way back past the very beginnings of Mrs. McCormick's inter- 
 est. Sixty-five years a professor at Tusculum, this Tennessean came 
 from Greeneville to the struggling little school that was the Tus- 
 culum of 1872, a school with one building and a faculty of four. 
 Here the tall, angular, Lincolnesque boy worked his way through 
 academy and college, living on little and that cooked by himself in 
 his room. In 1877, when he graduated, he became tutor of ancient 
 languages. Three years later he became professor of mathemat- 
 ics, continuing until 1943, when he became professor emeritus — a 
 splendid career of scholarship, devoted loyalty, and wide-reaching 
 influence. Through many of these years he gave all that he had 
 — and that was much — for a salary of $450 to f 600 a year, more 
 than once refusing attractive offers away from the mountains. 
 
 Perhaps no building for which she was responsible interested 
 Mrs. McCormick more than the first dormitory for women at 
 Tusculum, "Virginia Hall." For its building and furnishings she 
 gave some $20,000, the community buying eleven acres of needed 
 land and raising an additional amount. She employed Louis H. Sul- 
 livan to make the plans and she did indeed "watch the operation 
 narrowly," even for a part of the time from overseas. 
 
LIGHT CENTERS IN THE MOUNTAINS 255 
 
 She entered closely into the details of selection not only of plans 
 but of materials, and of placing, for example, of the prosaic laun- 
 dry and boiler plant. No details were too small for her interest 
 and concern; no practice of contractor or superintendent escaped 
 her attention. 
 
 When it was time to choose furnishings, she gave the selection of 
 bureaus and beds the benefit of her taste and her keen sense of 
 values. "I have spent the morning at a large store on the subject of 
 furniture," she wrote to Tusculum's president. "It is truly much 
 easier to have an idea in the mind, than to find the reality. The 
 bureaus and wash stands I saw were not right in color, nor in the 
 manner of making them." The pieces would have to be ordered. 
 She then asked for some scrap that showed the color of the var- 
 nished woodwork, so that she might choose the bureaus and 
 wash stands to harmonize. The piece, she explained with partic- 
 ularity, should be sawed as thin as a quarter inch, put in an enve- 
 lope, and mailed to her — quickly. 
 
 Among the first occupants of the new dormitory was Bertha L. 
 Roach, who had been for two years Mrs. McCormick's excellent 
 teacher of domestic science — and a highly successful one — at S. P. 
 Lees Collegiate Institute. Mrs. McCormick haled Miss Roach to 
 Tusculum to "demonstrate" domestic science at the Conference, a 
 new thing in the region. With a group of charming little girls of 
 faculty families as a demonstration unit, she gave simple lessons, 
 showing what each teacher could do in her own kitchen with her 
 own little mountaineers. 
 
 The outcome of Miss Roach's visit to Tusculum was that she 
 was transferred to that school. Throughout her three years there 
 Mrs. McCormick paid her salary, bought materials, renewed equip- 
 ment when Miss Roach could prove the need, and added pleasant 
 friendly extras for teacher and pupils. When Bertha Roach resigned 
 to be married, Mrs. McCormick continued salary and kindnesses 
 to the two who filled the post in her remaining years. 
 
 There were crises, of course. Perhaps the most serious centered 
 around the question of union with Washington College, some four- 
 teen miles away. If the tradition is true that Dr. Samuel Doak left 
 Washington College in a pique, to come on down the valley to 
 Tusculum, the long rivalry of the two schools seems a logical con- 
 sequence. But however founded, they were certainly too close to- 
 
256 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 gether, and the presence of a third Presbyterian School only sev- 
 enty-five miles distant, Maryville College, didn't help. Conferences 
 to consider union, however, always ended with three schools. 
 
 Later, the question concerned only the two close neighbors, 
 Tusculum and Washington. After the College Board had begun to 
 extend aid, it took a hand. Finally a plan of union that the Board 
 had approved was presented to Mrs. McCormick by Tusculum's 
 president. It contemplated a preparatory school at each place, with 
 the college department centrally located in a Tennessee city. The 
 word of comment that Dr. Coile asked Mrs. McCormick to give 
 came to him direct, pointed. She suggested that this was practically 
 starting a new college and said that if this plan was right she had 
 been "wrong, and short sighted, and wasteful, in erecting the build- 
 ings at Tusculum instead of the new point now thought of." 
 
 The plan was defeated. And the clouds darkened: the College 
 Board withheld its promised grant. There was a sharp conflict over 
 Tusculum's president, who resigned in a mood of pessimism con- 
 cerning Tusculum's future. Mrs. McCormick's pledge was with- 
 drawn. 
 
 Light began to break through the gloom when, in reply to a re- 
 quest from Tusculum for an interview, Mrs. McCormick received 
 Dr. Haynes. In the peace and beauty of Clayton Lodge she asked 
 questions that penetrated to the core of the Tusculum situation, 
 and the outcome was a telegram from Dr. Haynes to the campus 
 saying: "Mrs. McCormick will help this year Go ahead." Before 
 the middle of 1908 the two schools had united, as Washington and 
 Tusculum College, under a detailed plan of organization with one 
 president, two deans. 
 
 Thus it was settled, or so it seemed. But the end of the story re- 
 vealed a climax as surprising as that of a mystery serial. 
 
 Meantime, of course, there was a new president for the consoli- 
 dated school. And in choosing him Mrs. McCormick had a leading 
 voice. He was Charles Oliver Gray, who had come from the North 
 to Marshall, North Carolina, to be chairman of the Home Missions 
 Committee of the Presbytery of French Broad. As treasurer of 
 Stanley McCormick School he had met Mrs. McCormick and she 
 liked him. It was the recollection of the chairman of Tusculum's 
 Board of Trustees, Mr. Henry R. Brown, that during the search 
 for the right man Mrs. McCormick always met any suggestion 
 
LIGHT CENTERS IN THE MOUNTAINS 257 
 
 with word of her wish for "the man from Marshall." Before the 
 year was out she had offered to build a president's house on a 
 pleasant slope just beyond the campus. 
 
 But the lot of president of the two-part college was not a happy 
 one. Washington College felt humiliated, slighted. Dr. Gray, 
 pacific if ever a man was, tried hard to bring real peace, even 
 going so far as to live three days a week at Washington College. 
 Tension mounted to alarming heights. Thus it remained for nearly 
 four years. Then, dramatically, the climax: the revelation that on 
 the 13th of May, 1908, when "union" was voted on, there had been 
 no quorum of Washington College trustees, therefore no legal 
 vote to unite, therefore no union. In 191 2, after the case had been 
 carried to the State Supreme Court (a brief word for months of 
 harrowing trouble) the union was annulled. 
 
 It was while the college was still Washington and Tusculum that 
 Mrs. McCormick paid her second visit to the Tusculum campus, 
 in the summer of 191 1. This time it was not a surprise, though the 
 notice was short: she telegraphed to Dr. Gray that she would stop 
 off. Again there was much scurrying about, for Mrs. Gray had 
 gone to Asheville. Hastily summoned, she caught at Knoxville the 
 same train on which the distinguished guest was riding. By staying 
 out of sight she was able to join the welcoming committee at the 
 Greeneville station without Mrs. McCormick's knowledge that a 
 holiday had been cancelled. Other faculty wives had given the 
 president's house the final touches and all was ready when the 
 guest, with secretary and maid, drove out from Greeneville. It was 
 one of the perfect times of year in that country, May — when the 
 exquisite beauty of rhododendron was at its height in the moun- 
 tains and all the trees were in full but still tender green. 
 
 Arriving before lunch, she spent the afternoon in rest and a tour 
 of the campus — as before, inspecting and suggesting. The domestic 
 science classes, under Edith L. Stetson, a teacher whom she had 
 chosen, gave her a dinner that night and a lunch the next day; 
 some of the music pupils sang for her; and on the second day, after 
 chapel, where she characteristically refused to be introduced, she 
 shook hands with all the students as they filed past. Some of these 
 she recognized from photographs, some she stopped with special 
 questions; to all she conveyed her lovely interest. 
 
 There were other gifts beside buildings: a contribution of some 
 
258 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 $127,000 to endowment through the years, payment of teachers' 
 salaries, patient cheerful response to anxious word of deficits, main- 
 tenance of the home economics department. And running through 
 the whole story is a thread of warm kindness to president, profes- 
 sors, students: summer sessions at the University of Chicago that 
 aided their work; treatment at the hospital for their illnesses; gifts 
 to promote summer trips; a hundred and one thoughtful additions 
 to happiness. 
 
 "If there was nothing more than what she did for Tusculum 
 College, her life was well worth living." 
 
 In January 1921 the Stanley McCormick School was reopened 
 under Mrs. McCormick's care. This came about as the result of a 
 meeting of two war workers overseas — Warren H. Wilson, Secre- 
 tary of the Presbyterian Board of Home Missions and Leroy F. 
 Jackson of the State College of Washington. Dr. Wilson had a 
 dream of developing the Stanley McCormick School as a Folk 
 School where the older young people of those mountains might 
 find the opportunity they had missed. In Mr. Jackson he found the 
 man to his purpose and, setting the project before Mrs. McCor- 
 mick, secured her support. The school had indeed been dear to 
 her; she cared deeply to help the mountain people, to go on with 
 what she had started. At nearly eighty-six she began again with 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 She put about $35,000 into repairs on the old buildings and the 
 erection of new ones, including workshop and home economics 
 quarters. She gave sympathetic encouragement to the progressive 
 program these two men were applying. Home economics of course 
 was stressed; nursing the sick and care of babies were added; a 
 practice cottage was established where six girls for six week pe- 
 riods lived and worked. There was a baby in the practice cottage, 
 too, rented from a foundling home and mothered each week by a 
 different girl. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick's death cut short the program of expansion. 
 Her heirs carried on her plans, adding support of their own. After 
 a time the school was closed. Then under pressure of eagerness on 
 the part of local people and educational leaders in the state, Mr. 
 Jackson and the faculty tried to buy back the property from the 
 Board and to run the school by raising other funds. They called 
 
LIGHT CENTERS IN THE MOUNTAINS 259 
 
 it the Carolina New College. For a year the faculty taught with 
 no compensation but board and quarters. The bankruptcy of Ashe- 
 ville made many pledges void and the Stanley McCormick School, 
 for its final period, was again the charge of the Presbyterian 
 Board. 
 
CJi&pfer 18 
 
 UPHOLDING 
 MISSIONARY HANDS 
 
 lyiLRS. McCORMICK'S children used to call her home a 
 "halfway house between the Orient and the West." There was al- 
 ways a coming and going of missionary folk — waiting for her in a 
 downstairs room, presenting a case to her secretary, meeting her 
 warm welcome in the library or her own room, remaining as her 
 guests under the pressure of her hospitality and motherly care, 
 departing often with a promise or a check, always with encourage- 
 ment and inspiration. 
 
 The missionary picture she saw has changed, especially of course 
 where Communism is in power or menacing, but also in other 
 places under the influence of new nationalisms. But the cause to 
 which she gave so much in love, interest, money, through a long 
 period of years, carries on — carries on, though greatly hampered, 
 even in areas under highest pressure. 
 
 She would not have liked what has happened in China and North 
 Korea: the end of an era in missions, the suppressions, the persecu- 
 tions. One may guess that she would have felt the tremendous 
 responsibility of Christianity as the only long-range effective foe 
 of Communism. And it certainly would not have been in her 
 nature to lack faith and hope for the future. 
 
 Her family was one in which an interest in the spread of Christi- 
 anity was as natural as breathing. Clarissa and Maria Fowler and 
 Jane Merick must have given support to whatever missionary 
 activities, in that early day, their church — the Methodist Episco- 
 pal — undertook. It was still an early day in American foreign 
 missions: the Missionary Society of the Methodist Episcopal 
 Church had been founded in 1819 and the first foreign missionary 
 of that church had gone out to Liberia only in 1832. We do not 
 
 260 
 
UPHOLDING MISSIONARY HANDS l6l 
 
 know what manner of missionary received young Nettie's tiny 
 contributions at Falley Seminary — the six cents and the twenty- 
 five cents entered in her little account book, mentioned earlier. At 
 Genesee Wesley an we are on firmer ground; there, it will be 
 remembered, she took active part in missionary work as "essayist" 
 and "collector" in a society that may very well have felt the zeal 
 and fervor of pioneers. 
 
 In less than three years after her schooling at Lima, Nettie Fow- 
 ler, now Mrs. Cyrus Hall McCormick, had become wholeheartedly 
 Presbyterian, accepting her husband's church and all its interests 
 along with her husband. From this time on the church missionary 
 picture was chiefly in Presbyterian colors, though she gave also, 
 as the narrative will show, to other denominations. "She was very 
 much a Presbyterian," some one said of her, "but more largely a 
 Christian." 
 
 This foreign missionary interest was the flowering of something 
 in Mrs. McCormick's own life and spirit. Though it was not at 
 odds with her husband's thought and practice, it was hardly an 
 inheritance from him as was the Seminary. He gave modestly to 
 foreign missions through his church; but among the men and 
 women with causes who came to the McCormick door in his time, 
 his children did not recall missionaries. 
 
 To be sure, there was increase in her income, but there was also 
 deepening interest in foreign missions in the religious world at 
 large. Medical missions had been developing. The idea of higher 
 education as a means of securing Christian leadership had taken 
 strong hold. The conception of ministry to the whole man — body, 
 mind, spirit — was growing. So was the conception of union in 
 educational and other missionary work. 
 
 All this came about in the missionary lifetime of Mrs. McCor- 
 mick and she shared in these developments. Not for a moment did 
 she lose sight of the primary missionary objective nor rationalize 
 it into something else. But she was in the van in these newer ex- 
 pansive movements. 
 
 The turn of the century marked the rising tide of interest in 
 missions. There followed for Mrs. McCormick some twenty years 
 of considered giving in crescendo — giving that involved expendi- 
 ture of time, thought, and personal energy as well as money. When 
 she was nearly eighty-seven she wrote: "Recently there has been 
 
262 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 so much calling here on the part of the various missionaries home 
 on furloughs, teachers and ministers, and while I have to put in the 
 stated number of hours of rest I have not been doing much else." 
 But she loved it. 
 
 Her personal ministration to missionary folk is a line of gold run- 
 ning all through the story. But sometimes the younger relatives 
 found them tryingly numerous about the house. "She was very 
 beamy eyed if you showed any interest at all," a grandson said. 
 
 She knew what was going forward in every field to which she 
 gave and in others too. Again and again a visiting missionary was 
 amazed to hear her speak of his station as if she knew the very lie 
 of the land as well as the curriculum of his school or the equipment 
 of his hospital. "Her knowledge of the foreign missionary work 
 and of the foreign missionaries of our church," wrote Dr. Robert 
 E. Speer, Board Secretary during most of this period, "was some- 
 thing amazing. I doubt if there was a mission station of ours any- 
 where in the world which she did not know and with whose work- 
 ers she was unacquainted." And about the qualities that she 
 brought to bear on the many-sided problems presented to her in 
 this field he wrote: "She had the most clear and instantaneous dis- 
 cernment of the real issues. Her judgments both of movements and 
 persons were as gentle as they could be, and yet as unfailingly keen 
 and penetrating. No sham could deceive her. . . ." 
 
 Anyone touring the mission lands in the last year or two of Mrs. 
 McCormick's life would have encountered visible evidences of her 
 interest at many places. But in almost every instance the gift of, or 
 to, a building was only part of an interest expressed in many ways 
 and usually extending over many years. Endowment sometimes 
 supplemented building, deficits were often met, salaries were paid, 
 special needs supplied — such practical matters as improved water 
 supply, or a motor cycle, or a moving-picture film, or a type- 
 writer. She was flexible enough to meet the current need. 
 
 With this background, we may turn the pages of the record in 
 various countries for a few impressions of Mrs. McCormick's ways 
 of giving to this cause, a few incidents to high-light. 
 
 By 1 9 1 7 the tide was high. In that year Mrs. McCormick made 
 two gifts that have an interesting link in chronology. Dr. Samuel 
 M. Jordan, president of the future Alborz College of Teheran, 
 
UPHOLDING MISSIONARY HANDS 263 
 
 went to see her in Chicago. He came away with a pledge for $25,- 
 000 to erect the first college building on a new campus. 
 
 This was an important contribution to the special campaign then 
 in progress, and Dr. Robert E. Speer, Board Secretary, called to 
 thank Mrs. McCormick for her splendid gift. It must have been a 
 strain on the composure even of that controlled gentleman when 
 she asked, "Dr. Speer, isn't there some other station that needs 
 help?" He was quite able to reply, however. "Yes," he said, "Dr. 
 McKean, of Chiengmai, Siam, is seeking funds to build a hospital. 
 Shall I send him to you?" With her consent he hastened to summon 
 that devoted man of God, of missions, and of medicine. He too 
 went away with a pledge for $25,000. Each of these pledges came 
 as the logical climax of a long-sustained interest, of years of sym- 
 pathetic understanding and response. 
 
 Let us look back down the Siam perspective as she saw it: A 
 colorful country, Siam (now Thailand), of great physical beauty, 
 especially in the mountainous North; picturesque with tropical 
 foliage, elephants, bejewelled temples and yellow-robed Buddhist 
 priests; a warm land of easygoing poverty; a pleasant, unaggressive, 
 brown-skinned people with a history stretching back into tradition 
 — Lao in the north, Siamese in the south (their differences fading 
 after the seven- weeks' river journey between Bangkok and Chieng- 
 mai was reduced by the railroad to twenty comfortable hours) ; a 
 country that has rejoiced in a succession of progressive sovereigns, 
 grateful to missionaries for modern ideas in medicine and education. 
 
 A gift to help found a leper asylum was Mrs. McCormick's first 
 large contribution to medical missions in Siam. When Dr. James 
 W. McKean came collecting funds for his leper asylum, his re- 
 sources consisted of a hundred and sixty acres of jungle land given 
 to him by his friend and long-time patient, the Governor of Chieng- 
 mai. The site, on an island, had been the home of the Governor's 
 pet elephant, in exile for his sins. When at last that surly beast 
 passed on, leaving the island a jungle, Dr. McKean got the land. 
 Then he came home to gather money, leaving "six homeless lepers 
 sitting under the shade of the trees awaiting better days." 
 
 A plain, modest little man, Dr. McKean had a light and a power 
 that carried far. Going out to North Siam in 1889, he had found 
 the country ridden with smallpox. Though vaccination had been 
 
264 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 introduced there were no facilities for making the vaccine. So Dr. 
 McKean set up a laboratory in a shed and boldly asked the Gov- 
 ernor of Burma for a trained worker to teach the Siamese how to 
 make it. The Burmese Governor lent a man, and with his aid Dr. 
 McKean proceeded to reduce that scourge. His next campaign was 
 in the interests of the large, tragic leper population, which knew 
 only poverty and pain and hate and fear. The asylum that he 
 founded was the first in North Siam. He had the joy of bringing 
 comfort to those pitiful bodies and peace to many souls. 
 
 Other gifts followed and finally Mrs. McCormick gave the ward 
 block of a hospital. Different groups in the community — Siamese, 
 Chinese, Indians, Burmese, Sikhs, Shans — all contributed. Two 
 years after Mrs. McCormick's death McCormick Hospital was 
 opened by Prince Adison, a brother of King Chulalongkorn, who 
 paid high tribute to the American benefactor of his people. An- 
 other Prince, Mahidol, while Crown Prince, had shocked his royal 
 relatives by studying medicine at Harvard and then entering Mc- 
 Cormick Hospital, incognito, for his hospital experience. His early 
 death was a loss to mission and country. 
 
 When Dr. McKean left, Dr. Edwin C. Cort became superin- 
 tendent and Mrs. Cort, dietitian. The devotion that these workers 
 (who had already given long years to this field) and their quite 
 inadequate staff put into the building up of this institution came to 
 be known as the "McCormick spirit." Each served longer hours 
 than were humanly justifiable, Dr. Cort himself taking two 
 twenty-four-hour stretches each week. In the old hospital it was 
 customary for the relatives to come along with the patient and 
 live there, preparing his food and their own in an adjacent shed 
 and sleeping all over the place. That was changed; the hospital was 
 put on a modern, controlled basis. And it succeeded, caring for 
 hundreds of patients and evangelizing while healing. The spread of 
 its influence is illustrated by a woman from a distant village who 
 came to the hospital and said, "I want to know about Dr. Cort's 
 God." 
 
 Though the hospital was turned over to the Government during 
 the Japanese occupation and its buildings deteriorated, it was re- 
 newed in following years. It is now the largest, as well as the oldest, 
 Mission hospital in Thailand — modern, well-equipped, with 150 
 beds and highly trained personnel, including Thai doctors and 
 
UPHOLDING MISSIONARY HANDS 265 
 
 nurses. And the memory of Mrs. McCormick is still held in high 
 regard. 
 
 In Persia (now Iran) the other country of that twin gift of 191 7 
 Mrs. McCormick had met earlier an interesting challenge. Though 
 the hospital at Teheran had been operating with very little provi- 
 sion for women, yet they came — every kind of woman, with every 
 kind of illness, some walking long weary distances. The need had 
 become desperate when one day a Persian princess, widow of a 
 prime minister, volunteered to give the money for a women's 
 pavilion. It would be a modest affair of three or four rooms, but 
 the first women's hospital in Persia. The joyful word went hurry- 
 ing across the world; when it reached Mrs. McCormick by letter 
 from Dr. John G. Wishard, superintendent, she promptly offered 
 to match the $2000 gift of the princess with a like sum to furnish 
 and support the new wing. 
 
 Later, Mrs. McCormick adopted into her interest Dr. Wishard's 
 successor, young Dr. Joseph W. Cook. Responsive to his appeals, 
 she agreed to support for three years a nurse whom she would ap- 
 prove. Dr. Cook's letters from Persia are still thrilling reading. He 
 wrote: "Forty-one people who came with one or two blind eyes 
 now can see — many of them were blind in both eyes — a girl of 
 twenty blind in both eyes for eight years was led 12 days' journey 
 and I'm thankful to say both eyes turned out perfectly. If medical 
 men at home realized what joy it is to be here helping where few 
 are to help, there would be a rush which the Boards could not take 
 care of." 
 
 There was a major educational interest too. Standards of native 
 education were low. So when Dr. Samuel J. Jordan, also of Te- 
 heran, had the dream of a college, it was inspired by a desire to 
 serve the missionary cause and at the same time to raise these stan- 
 dards. He took his dream to Mrs. McCormick's doorstep in 1907: 
 a dream of combining his boys' high school and a similar girls' 
 school into an institution that could be carried to college level. She 
 sent him on his way rejoicing in a three-year provision for a science 
 teacher and other aid. 
 
 When Dr. Jordan came home in 19 17 he could report such prog- 
 ress that Mrs. McCormick responded to the picture of growth 
 and of need with the gift for a new building referred to earlier. 
 Back in Persia, Dr. Jordan confronted famine conditions and the 
 
266 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 mission was deep in relief work. He himself all but died of typhus. 
 But building went on, with the labor of those on relief, to a happy 
 conclusion, and the school carried on as a missionary institution 
 until in 1940 the government of Iran took over this and all other 
 foreign schools. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick had a tie of remote kinship with a Persia mis- 
 sionary, which added to her interest. He was Dr. Lewis F. Essel- 
 styn, preacher and teacher, linked with her through her beloved 
 grandmother, Maria Esselstyn Fowler. Though she did not know 
 him until the late nineties, she spoke of him with pride as a kinsman 
 and expected him to visit her on his furloughs. 
 
 It was Dr. Esselstyn who, after years at Teheran, was chosen to 
 found a station at Meshed, a shrine city of Mohammedanism with 
 a sacred tomb in its heart, where fanatical devotion made the mis- 
 sionary's way difficult. When he first went there he was mobbed 
 and only rescued by the British consulate. "Twenty years later 
 . . ." in Dr. Speer's words, "his presence as a permanent resident 
 was quietly accepted by the people, and soon no figure was better 
 known in the city than his, with his bald head and red beard." 
 
 Persia, and especially Urumia in the northwest, suffered dur- 
 ing the First World War perhaps more than any other country. 
 Though neutral, it was a battleground — invaded again and again, 
 trampled by opposing armies, wrecked and ravaged. Dr. Esselstyn, 
 then at Meshed, was one of several who died under the heavy 
 strain. 
 
 Korea — one approaches the thought of this ravaged country 
 with dread. But certain memories have warm appeal. On a day in 
 October of 1906 a certain great figure in Korean missions came 
 to Mrs. McCormick's door. He was Samuel A. Moffett, a pioneer 
 in northern Korea, who during his forty-six years of hard, splen- 
 did service shared in the beginnings of Protestant missionary work 
 in one of the ancient cities of the world, Pyengyang, took part in 
 its rapid development, and lived to counsel in the dark days of 
 Japanese domination. He came to Mrs. McCormick in the very 
 year when Korea's long martyrdom began. 
 
 Dr. Moffett brought back from Korea for Mrs. McCormick ten 
 letters, every one of them an expression of gratitude for the train- 
 ing that the writer had received at McCormick Theological Sem- 
 inary and of hope for a similar seminary to be built at Pyengyang. 
 
UPHOLDING MISSIONARY HANDS 267 
 
 These McCormick "boys" ventured to suggest that as she was the 
 mother of the Seminary in Chicago, she should become the grand- 
 mother of a seminary in Korea. Already there was a class of fifty 
 earnest men, ready for leadership training. But they had no build- 
 ing, no equipment. Dr. Moffett too was a McCormick graduate, 
 in the class of 1889, the first McCormick man to go to this country 
 which the first Protestant missionary had entered only about five 
 years before. 
 
 When Dr. Moffett had gone to Pyengyang there had been not a 
 single Christian, and stones had been thrown at him. Now a thou- 
 sand Christians saw him off as he went home to find help for their 
 fifty potential pastors. Some of these things the letters told Mrs. 
 McCormick. The rest was for Dr. Moffett to tell when he reached 
 Rush Street. 
 
 Perhaps Mrs. McCormick asked him to tell of his own arrival in 
 Pyengyang in that early day so soon after the "Hermit Nation' ' 
 was opened. He went when foreigners were still rare in Korea, 
 and he was such an object of curiosity that the road before his 
 house was sometimes blocked. Koreans, black-haired, black-eyed, 
 in voluminous dress, found this man's tall blondness, strikingly 
 Anglo-Saxon features, and European dress a marvel. 
 
 He might have told her many tales of these amiable people, men 
 and women in billowing glistening white, the men topped with 
 queer "Happy Hooligan" hats built to accommodate the precious 
 topknot. He might have analyzed their religious situation — Bud- 
 dhism dying under the impact of Confucianism, ancestor worship 
 and animism prevalent, but no national church. Of course they 
 would have talked of the political plight of Korea. 
 
 And he would have told, certainly, about Korea missionaries. A 
 Chicago friend of Mrs. McCormick, Lillias Horton, missionary 
 under the Board of the Northwest, had been among other things 
 physician to the Queen and had married Horace G. Underwood, 
 a pioneer in Korea and a vital force there for long years. Dr. Mof- 
 fett would have told her about the Underwoods. 
 
 He must have told of the remarkable responsiveness of Koreans 
 to the Christian teaching: of the great Bible classes held annually 
 for several days, which Christians traveled miles to attend at their 
 own expense; of the growth of churches throughout this land of 
 villages — churches maintained under the care of native leaders. 
 
268 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 with occasional visits from the supervising missionary. "I am in 
 charge of all North Pyeng An Do — about 65 churches," one of 
 the McCormick Seminary men wrote. "It keeps me on the road 
 constantly. One of the Koreans said that I would scarcely be able 
 to visit all the churches if I did no more than ride by the church 
 door on my wheel and yell as I passed." Until a few years before, 
 this mission had kept almost its whole emphasis on the direct evan- 
 gelistic method, on preaching, rather than the creation of institu- 
 tions. But now it realized that the time had come to provide leader 
 training. That was why those fifty men awaited a building. 
 
 Out of all this presentation came not only a home for this train- 
 ing school, but when a new building was needed, a new home 
 for which $35,000 was necessary. Mrs. McCormick's grand- 
 motherly relation to theological education in Korea was clear. 
 
 She helped others of the educational institutions which the Korea 
 mission added to its program. All were closed even before Japan 
 and the United States were at war; the Japanese Government, 
 considering colleges and academies part of the national system of 
 education, demanded that pupils and teachers attend at the Shinto 
 shrines. Rather than submit, the Mission shut the school doors. 
 Later, the same demand was made on the Seminary, where the 
 Mission, in a different legal situation, "postponed" opening. The 
 buildings — barred to religious uses — stood there a silent witness 
 to the faith of those who had built and used them. Worse was to 
 come, as all the world knows, in the Korean war. Of course the 
 Seminary at Pyengyang, in Communist North Korea, is now lost 
 to Christian service. In South Korea, where work, workers, build- 
 ings all suffered appallingly, the Christian church goes forward, 
 despite terrific handicaps, strongly, heroically. 
 
 As with Korea, one dreads to contemplate what has happened 
 to such interests as Mrs. McCormick's in China. But all is not lost 
 by any means. For both the sake of history and the sake of hope it 
 is worth while to look back briefly as well as forward. 
 
 Early in this century the teachers and students of Shantung 
 College, the first of the group later known as the Christian Colleges 
 of China, sent a letter by their president to "The most worthy and 
 esteemed men of Great America" — a letter written on red paper 
 in beautiful Chinese style. A translation came into Mrs. McCor- 
 mick's hands and she read a Chinese view of China; 
 
UPHOLDING MISSIONARY HANDS 269 
 
 "China just now is as one just waking from a dream, as one rous- 
 ing from the drowsiness of wine. We now are aware that in the 
 learning and religion of the exalted countries of the West there is 
 real efficiency and power. Therefore our Emperor and his people 
 together with our officials, both higher and lower, are arousing 
 themselves to throw off the shortcomings of the past and to ad- 
 vance the learning of the West." 
 
 This was the voice of China at the beginning of one of the most 
 remarkable transformations in history. Out of the horrors of the 
 Boxer rebellion and the horrors of its quelling, China roused to a 
 new sense of destiny and to a driving demand for the Western learn- 
 ing. Within a few years the famous old government examination 
 halls were abolished. By thousands Chinese students flocked into 
 Japan, Europe, America for the new education. 
 
 In this vast change of attitude missionary forces were quick to 
 see opportunity. All of the many denominations in China, European 
 and American, had an urgency upon them. Such open doors must 
 be entered. The Young Men's Christian Association, alert to the 
 stupendous forces at work, was directing its program toward 
 students, seeking to develop Christian leadership for the new China. 
 Church missionaries responded more and more to the new spirit. 
 The church in the United States more and more rose to the need. 
 
 It was in response to appeals made from this new point of view 
 that Mrs. McCormick's larger gifts to China missions were made. 
 They were chiefly contributions to Christian education. Three 
 colleges won her continuous interest — one of them undenomina- 
 tional, the other two union institutions later included in that re- 
 markable group known as the Christian Colleges in China. 
 
 Today there are no "Christian Colleges" in Communist China. 
 These colleges are operating as educational institutions in Com- 
 munist hands, specializing along various lines. But in Hongkong 
 the Christian Chung Chi College is serving, temporarily in rented 
 buildings, and has sent out its first graduating class. At Taipei on 
 Formosa, Tunghai University is open and working. And among 
 Chinese elsewhere in the world the United Board for Christian 
 Colleges in China (now the United Board for Christian Higher 
 Education in Asia) and mission boards are at work, with the aid 
 of Chinese leaders trained in the "Christian colleges" of the main- 
 land. 
 
27O NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 The China college that came first in Mrs. McCormick's interest 
 was one far in the South — Canton Christian College in her time. Its 
 home was a beautiful campus on an island of the Pearl River be- 
 low Canton — on a height overlooking rice fields, the crowded city, 
 the saffron and tawny sails of junks, White Cloud Mountain blue- 
 gray in the distance. Its origin lay in a petition for a school made 
 in the eighties by leading Chinese merchants and scholars. Dr. 
 Andrew P. Happer, "a great warhorse of Presbyterian missions," 
 came home to raise money to found it as a Presbyterian institution; 
 but by the time Mrs. McCormick made her first gift the school was 
 undenominational. It had suffered grievous ups and downs. And 
 when Mrs. McCormick began to give, through the agency of 
 Herbert E. House, it had about thirty students. 
 
 This Mr. House was a remarkable man who, from rough work 
 on a Chicago River tugboat, had educated himself all the way 
 through McCormick Theological Seminary. Then as a missionary 
 in China he had become tutor of Yuan Shih-kai's son and now was 
 bringing China to Americans. Evidently he impressed Mrs. Mc- 
 Cormick, for though the conditions of a gift that she made were 
 not fulfilled she paid the pledge, a rare instance. 
 
 When the cornerstone of the first permanent building was laid, 
 prospects brightened. Nearby, after a time, stood the two faculty 
 residences for which Mrs. McCormick supplied the funds — Mc- 
 Cormick Lodges No. 1 and No. 2, pleasant, comfortable build- 
 ings in modified Chinese style. 
 
 One by one Mrs. McCormick received into her friendship fac- 
 ulty and trustees, entertaining them as they came through Chicago, 
 taking on personal needs, writing them letters, and adding from 
 time to time her sustaining gifts. A gift to Dr. C. K. Edmunds, a 
 faculty member who became president in 1907, was unusual. 
 For three years his family had been living in California because the 
 health of a child required it, while he commuted in a big way be- 
 tween Canton and the New York headquarters. Learning about it, 
 Mrs. McCormick recommended life near New York. "You go to 
 Chappaqua, New York," she directed. "That is where my husband 
 chopped wood with Horace Greeley. If you find something that 
 suits you I will pay the rent for the first year." He located a desir- 
 able place and she paid the rent for three years. 
 
UPHOLDING MISSIONARY HANDS 27 I 
 
 She carried this school on her heart all through the years, and 
 watched its steady, sound growth with keen interest. 
 
 The story of what Mrs. McCormick did for the college that was 
 later to be Shantung Christian University in the province of Shan- 
 tung — home of the Chinese sages, Confucius and Mencius — in- 
 troduces one of her closest missionary friendships, that with the 
 family of Henry Winters Luce. Her first meeting with Dr. Luce 
 illustrates at their loveliest this gracious woman's ways with mis- 
 sionary strangers. A young man then, Mr. Luce had come back 
 after eight years at a little college far out on the coast at Tengchow, 
 an excellent little school operating on a tiny budget. He had come 
 home to raise money, and in Chicago he presented a letter of in- 
 troduction to Mrs. McCormick. Her secretary took it upstairs and 
 came back with a photograph of graduates of the school in 1904 
 and a request for word about them. Mr. Luce sat down and wrote 
 out what he knew of the thirteen fine-looking Chinese — all in wide 
 trousers, padded coats, skull caps. The secretary took it and 
 brought back an invitation to lunch. After other guests had gone 
 Mrs. McCormick began asking questions about China, but inter- 
 rupted the missionary's answer: "You are tired," she said, "come 
 with me," and showed him to her son Stanley's vacant room, sent 
 for pajamas, and directed him to go to bed for a while. (He was 
 one of many weary missionary folk and other workers to receive 
 this kindly treatment.) 
 
 Later, she arranged to bring him from his modest hotel to her 
 home. Before he left, his wife and three children, arriving from the 
 Pacific Coast, had also found a place in Mrs. McCormick's affec- 
 tion. Mrs. Luce, recalling the moment, said: "That we were awk- 
 ward and strange and 'queer,' after eight years in a farflung mission 
 station in China, I make no doubt at all. . . . But coming into the 
 room, in her own inimitable manner, instantly she seemed to gather 
 us up and to put us in our own places within her great heart of 
 love." 
 
 Little more was said about money in the first interview; but be- 
 fore long a check for $20,000 went to the Board of Foreign 
 Missions to apply on endowment. Mrs. McCormick of course knew 
 of the origin of the school in a class of six boys, started in 1864 by a 
 great pioneer Presbyterian missionary, Calvin W. Mateer, at Teng- 
 
272 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 chow. But it was a later president, Paul D. Bergen, who had won 
 her first pledge. At that time Dr. Bergen had a new talking point. 
 For this little college was about to be moved to a more central 
 point in the province, and combination with a theological school 
 of English Baptists near by was to follow. This was one of the 
 early unions of different denominations and nationalities to carry 
 on Christian higher educational work in China, a principle that was 
 to go far in the next decades. 
 
 Later chapters at Shantung have a special link with another insti- 
 tution, the University of Nanking. In 1908 three denominations — 
 Methodists, Disciples, Presbyterians — in this great literary center 
 of the Empire decided to combine their three small separate boys' 
 schools in one institution strong enough to meet the challenge of 
 that vital, changing time. 
 
 The arguments for this union and funds to start it were brought 
 to Mrs. McCormick by John E. Williams, a young Presbyterian 
 missionary of great promise who was to fulfill that promise until 
 a martyr's death in the civil war of 1927 closed his earthly work. 
 Mrs. McCormick responded, helped found this union school. 
 
 Two years after it opened, Mr. Williams, vice president now, 
 was home again in the thick of a China campaign and went to see 
 Mrs. McCormick. He was able to report sound progress and a 
 healthy need of buildings and equipment. The night after his visit 
 at Rush Street, Mr. Williams wrote to Dr. Speer: "I saw Madame 
 McCormick this afternoon. She gives twenty-five thousand for a 
 dormitory for the College group. She was deeply interested in the 
 whole scheme and in our plans. It all came about so manifestly in 
 answer to prayer that my little faith was rebuked again." 
 
 The next year Shantung Christian University, ready to move to 
 Tsinan, capital of the Province of Shantung where its Medical 
 School was already well established, won Mrs. McCormick's gift 
 to build McCormick Administration Hall. 
 
 But before any of the promised new buildings at Shantung and 
 Nanking were erected Mrs. McCormick had the thought of send- 
 ing an American architect to China to make a group plan in the 
 light of Chinese architecture. Others financed the employment of 
 a Chicago architect at Nanking and Shantung. The outcome at 
 both sites was a fine application of Chinese architectural lines to 
 modern college buildings. 
 
UPHOLDING MISSIONARY HANDS 273 
 
 At Nanking Mrs. McCormick aided the language school for 
 newly arrived missionaries, a pioneer undertaking. She gave about 
 a third of the cost of a dormitory to house these students, and the 
 way of that was deeply human. A young missionary, W. Reginald 
 Wheeler, whom she had not met, wrote her about the need of a 
 building because the quarters in which the missionaries studied 
 were damp and cold. As if learning Chinese weren't hard enough 
 they had to sit huddled in coats and rugs while they studied. There 
 was much illness. The writer mentioned that the baby born to his 
 wife and him had not lived; he did not stress this but told it simply, 
 naturally. It touched Mrs. McCormick and she made her gift with 
 warm-hearted spontaneity. This school was the first to work out 
 successfully the language school idea. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick followed the development of these colleges, 
 rejoicing in the accounts of transformed, redirected lives that her 
 gifts had helped to produce; of Chinese Christian youths going out 
 to serve as teachers or preachers or Young Men's Christian Asso- 
 ciation workers, or to take positions in provincial and national 
 governments. 
 
 The development of the colleges into the famous Associated 
 Colleges of China Mrs. McCormick was not to follow, nor their 
 superb manifestation of dauntlessness in the dark years of Japanese 
 invasion and occupation. Nor, of course, was she to know the elim- 
 ination of "Christian" from these colleges, used now by China's 
 Communist Government. 
 
 The dominant word in India was agriculture. More than in any 
 other mission field, there was a connection here with Mrs. McCor- 
 mick's own agricultural interests. For she gave agricultural ma- 
 chinery and land to Dr. Sam Higginbottom's great creative ap- 
 plication of the gospel to India by way of the plow, and that 
 development led to the introduction of still more agricultural ma- 
 chinery into that backward country. But the basis was broader 
 than that — what she gave was support for a progressive agricultural 
 Christian project. 
 
 Now this Sam Higginbottom is one of the dynamic, creative 
 personalities of Protestant missions. Having gone out straight from 
 Princeton, he saw a need and had a vision, and when Mrs. McCor- 
 mick first met him, had come back home to realize it. Concretely, 
 he was taking an agricultural course at Columbus, Ohio, and was 
 
274 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 raising money to establish an agricultural department in the Alla- 
 habad Christian College. It was a comparatively new idea, and as 
 human nature runs it might be considered surprising that its 
 sponsor should be a woman of seventy-five. The idea was uplift 
 — economic, spiritual — through agriculture. Mr. Higginbottom 
 knew the terrible poverty of rural India and saw in the improve- 
 ment of agriculture a thoroughly Christian way to help these peo- 
 ple. As he understood the missionary directions of Jesus, they in- 
 cluded far more than preaching. They enjoined action for the 
 whole man, his health and his living conditions as well as his spirit. 
 He therefore proposed to set up an institute for the training of 
 Indian youth in modern methods of raising crops and breeding cat- 
 tle. It was this idea, for which he was to fight long and hard, that 
 Mrs. McCormick accepted. 
 
 Years later he was still having to persuade the theologically 
 minded of the essential Christianity of his idea. But conceiving this 
 to be part of what the Church was called on to do for depressed 
 peoples, Sam Higginbottom stood fast. And Mrs. McCormick 
 held up his hands with gifts, sympathy, and warm encouragement. 
 She added to her loyal support of his work from year to year by 
 sharing in the erection of a dormitory at Allahabad as a memorial 
 to her granddaughter, Elizabeth McCormick, furnishing it, sup- 
 plying a tractor and a plow for the Agricultural Institute (as it 
 became), and maintaining three teachers for several years. 
 
 Mr. Higginbottom's project took on wide-scope developments. 
 He had gone to serve the lowly, the outcastes (and certainly did 
 serve them), but found himself living and working among the high 
 castes, the princes, the wealthy. Several princes came to the Insti- 
 tute as pupils. Mr. Higginbotton wrote Mrs. McCormick about one 
 of them, a very wealthy prince who brought along to school a 
 retinue of servants and a private secretary to take notes in class. 
 This didn't last long. "He spent a day carrying fodder to the silage 
 cutter and now is taking work as it comes along, and writing his 
 own notes in class." 
 
 The demonstration of what modern agriculture could do at- 
 tracted the attention of several maharajahs of native provinces. 
 One, the Maharajah of Bikaner, asked Mr. Higginbottom to make 
 an agricultural survey and, when he consented, sent the missionary 
 
UPHOLDING MISSIONARY HANDS 275 
 
 with his wife and two children through the state in a private car, 
 with cook and kitchen attached, on the railroads, and by motor 
 cars, camels, horses, hunting carts where railroads were lacking. 
 The Maharajah of Gwalior offered Mr. Higginbottom an impor- 
 tant position and when the missionary refused to abandon his field, 
 the Maharajah persuaded him to come as his agricultural adviser 
 for two months a year. In return the ruler not only paid Mr. Hig- 
 ginbottom well but supplied the salaries of two substitutes. 
 
 Today Dr. Higginbottom is busy in retirement, but Allahabad 
 Agricultural Institute on a union basis goes ahead strongly. 
 
 In a second mission station of North India Mrs. McCormick's 
 money and interest promoted agriculture. This was Etah, set in 
 the midst of a desperately poor region of villagers, largely out- 
 castes. The object was to alleviate the terrible poverty, to lift the 
 whole level of these lives, economic and spiritual together. Many 
 means were employed — gardening, fruit-growing, silkworm cul- 
 ture, and other activities on a self-help basis — at an industrial 
 school for boys; then a poultry farm run by an expert in agricul- 
 ture. Indian eggs were small, light. Captain Arthur E. Slater, at 
 home, came into the Board rooms asking what hen had the smallest 
 body and laid the largest tgg. The secretaries not being poultry ex- 
 perts, he found out at an agricultural school — Rhode Island Reds. 
 When the project had everything lined up but the money, the Rev- 
 erend A. G. McGaw, a colleague of Captain Slater, told Mrs. Mc- 
 Cormick about it. Mr. McGaw, an evangelist, saw the great pos- 
 sibilities for his cause in the poultry business. Mrs. McCormick saw 
 them too and the cables carried to Captain Slater the glad promise 
 of substantial aid. 
 
 The first crate of chickens sent to Captain Slater was given by 
 a Sunday school class in Coatesville, Pennsylvania. The donor had 
 them shipped with the engaging label, "Missionaries in Feathers," 
 and a request for good care; they went through, to the surprise of 
 the express company, a hundred per cent alive. On the field Captain 
 Slater developed the eggs and the education of the villagers to 
 the point that annual poultry shows were held, attended by high 
 officials, and the improved product contributed greatly to the 
 support of schools and churches, as well as to the well-being of 
 the people. Mrs. McCormick was intensely interested in it all and 
 
276 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 needed no careful explanations of the relations between chickens 
 and evangelism. After her time, goats were added to the program 
 and Captain Slater still carries on. 
 
 The only scene of her missionary interest in a non-Christian 
 country that Mrs. McCormick ever visited was on the Nile. This 
 visit was an incident of travel, but it bore fruit visible to other 
 travelers in later years. 
 
 On that leisurely Nile trip that she and her son Stanley took in 
 the early months of 1896 she stopped at two of the numerous 
 schools conducted by the American Mission of the United Presby- 
 terian Church in Upper Egypt. Writing to friends at home, she 
 drew a fairly dark picture of the Egyptian people, retarded, as she 
 saw it, by the lowly position of their women: 
 
 "They cannot rise, it would seem, until the women learn how to 
 bring up their families better, and the women, it would seem, can- 
 not do this until they are better educated, and somewhat free from 
 those features of the Mohammedan faith that make them practically 
 like chattels. They do not read, they are not thought worthy to 
 kneel in the mosques; they do not keep their homes or their chil- 
 dren clean. Perhaps they don't know how. 
 
 "The only real light I have seen in Egypt for her growing boys 
 is the system of schools maintained by the United Presbyterian 
 Church of America (all honour to her) at ninety-seven stations 
 in Egypt, such as Luxor, Assiut, Esneh, etc. . . . On visiting two 
 of these excellent schools I found them taught by native Christian 
 young men, and I was pleased to see the small, bright-eyed boys 
 reading from English books like those in our schools. . . . Then 
 the larger boys parsed an English sentence for me perfectly. Then 
 they read from the Arabic testament. . . ." 
 
 Stopping at Shepherd's Hotel in Cairo, it was natural that Mrs. 
 McCormick should go across to the nearby American Mission of 
 the United Presbyterian Church and be entertained there. Her host 
 and hostess at the Mission were the Reverend and Mrs. William 
 Harvey, whose daughter Jessie — wife of Dr. George L. Robinson, 
 presently to be a professor at McCormick Theological Seminary 
 — became Mrs. McCormick's close friend. 
 
 Going on up the Nile, Mrs. McCormick visited at Assiut, cen- 
 ter of an agricultural region. Here tourists stopped to see tombs 
 and a bazaar. This particular tourist appears to have found greater 
 
UPHOLDING MISSIONARY HANDS 277 
 
 interest in the mission college and its able president, J. R. Alex- 
 ander. The school had been founded in 1865 with a group of five 
 pupils, in a slightly remodeled donkey stable. As the school grew, 
 another site — on the city wall — was occupied and the numbers 
 increased steadily. But it was still a small school when Mrs. McCor- 
 mick visited and praised it. 
 
 The party stopped at Esneh, too, a little day school run by a 
 young Egyptian named Yacoub. What Mrs. McCormick did there 
 is best told from the angle of 191 3. In that year Mrs. McCormick's 
 sister-in-law, Margaret Fowler, visited the Nile. She was com- 
 missioned to leave with the president of Assiut College, Dr. R. S. 
 McClenahan, a gift of ten dollars for the Turkish teacher of that 
 little school at Esneh whom Mrs. McCormick had visited seven- 
 teen years before. It was characteristic — this flattering assumption 
 that the president, asked to find a man, would find him anywhere 
 in Egypt. He did, though he had only the one fact and the one 
 name Yacoub — a common one in Egypt — to guide him. He wrote 
 to Yacoub, who was now a merchant at Kom Ombo, mentioning 
 only sketchily the details of that visit in order to test his identity. 
 Yacoub's reply was convincing: he did indeed remember the Amer- 
 ican lady tourist who was going up the Nile in a dahabeah. She 
 was "somewhat hard of hearing and used an instrument at her 
 ear"; she gave him eye medicine and money to buy clothing for 
 poor pupils. After he received the ten dollars, he wrote direct to 
 Mrs. McCormick in brave English — "This kind gift made up my 
 mind in remembrance of your very old kind visit to my school at 
 Esneh," ending "with many kind regards and best hot wishes." 
 
 A few years later, as her acquaintance with Mrs. Robinson grew, 
 Mrs. McCormick began to make gifts to the Assiut school, which 
 was the only evangelical school of its grade in all Egypt for the 
 training of young teachers, ministers, leaders. She provided a 
 teacher for three years, contributed to the library, helped buy 
 land, and was largely responsible for a dormitory, especially for 
 the use of the poorer students whose needs Assiut sought to meet 
 and who had been so crowded that they had sat "huddled like 
 bees on the benches." 
 
 In the work of that "all round missionary" on the bleak icy 
 coasts of Newfoundland and Labrador, Sir Wilfred Grenfell, Mrs. 
 McCormick had a goodly share. Here the appeal came from no 
 
278 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 clergyman, no church organization. It was the appeal of a Christian 
 physician who, in Henry Van Dyke's words, had made "one of 
 the most simple direct and vital applications of the gospel of Christ 
 to human needs that modern times have seen." He had gone to a 
 people of good English seafaring stock who had been living for 
 years without a physician to care for them, without churches or 
 preachers or friends — the deep-sea fishermen of these northern 
 shores. All the world knows of this devoted life — the long journeys 
 by dog team over snows, by steamers through ice floes, to tend the 
 far scattered "liveyeres" of those bitter coasts or the fishermen 
 seeking the year's support through the summer's catch. All the 
 world knows something at least of what this "good physician" 
 brought into being — hospitals, schools, an orphanage, cooperative 
 stores, a seamen's institute, loom work and other industries to eke 
 out the meager living gained by fishing and hunting, reindeer herds 
 to supply food and clothing. 
 
 On Dr. Grenf ell's visit to Chicago in 1903 he met Mrs. McCor- 
 mick and she made a small contribution to his work. Later Dr. 
 Grenfell married a Lake Forest girl, and from time to time when 
 they were in Chicago both called to see her. Mrs. McCormick's 
 gifts, as the years passed, mounted. Her principal aid — and it was 
 generous — went to the school that Dr. Grenfell started at St. An- 
 thony. When it began it was to serve a few children of the orphan- 
 age. The schools of this region were all narrowly denominational; 
 Dr. Grenfell sought to give something better. He was so successful 
 that the original school drew from far parts of the coasts and sev- 
 eral others were added. The money came hard at first, since a 
 school was so much less picturesque than hospital ships — an addi- 
 tional reason for Dr. Grenfell's ardent appreciation of Mrs. Mc- 
 Cormick's aid. 
 
 It was characteristic of Mrs. McCormick that when Dr. Grenfell 
 proposed to give the school her name, she turned the tables and 
 provided that it should be called the Wilfred Grenfell School. 
 
 The tale, though long, is not all told, by any means. Those mis- 
 sionary undertakings have been chosen to which perhaps Mrs. Mc- 
 Cormick gave most in continued interest over a long period. But 
 the story might go on with a list of gifts in ten mission fields of her 
 church as well as in other connections. 
 
UPHOLDING MISSIONARY HANDS 279 
 
 Mrs. McCormick deprecated credit for her share in promoting 
 all this mission work. "I do not place a very high value upon a gift 
 of so poor a thing as money," she once wrote. "The great help to 
 these poor benighted nations . . . comes from the devotion and 
 self-sacrifice of the missionaries themselves. All praise to these dear 
 workers who have patiently, by years of fidelity, won their way to 
 the hearts of these darkened races." 
 
 She would not have agreed with Dr. Thomas Chalmers's com- 
 ment that "He who does the work is not so productively employed 
 as he who multiplies the doers." But none of those through whom 
 she ministered to "these darkened races" underestimated the im- 
 portance of her partnership. For "how shall they preach, except 
 they be sent?" And they all knew that along with the money that 
 she dispensed as a steward, she gave constant prayer, loving 
 thought, and the best of her excellent judgment. They knew that 
 she understood and sympathized with their motives. "So many peo- 
 ple have distorted and small ideas of what life on the mission field 
 is," wrote a young missionary, "and their feelings toward us as we 
 face it range all the way from frank disapproval to pity. It is, there- 
 fore, an especially helpful experience to be with one like yourself, 
 who really sees the bigness of it all and understands our motive for 
 wanting to be a part of the enterprise. I have never before appre- 
 ciated people whose vision is truly world-wide, as I do now." ("A 
 motive of real love of God and of their fellow man," was Mrs. 
 McCormick's own word.) Another testified that he and a fellow 
 missionary had left Mrs. McCormick's presence with "spirits 
 cleansed, armor buckled on again." Surely this personal influence 
 on the workers was no small part of her contribution toward fur- 
 thering international Christianity. 
 
 As these lines are written, clouds hang dark over some of the 
 missionary fields of Mrs. McCormick's interest, especially North 
 Korea and China. In India there are limitations, and in all Oriental 
 countries missionaries are aware of the threat of Communism and 
 the pressure of new nationalisms. All missionaries, except for a 
 few held in prison, are out of China and North Korea. Yet the 
 picture at its darkest is not all dark. Even in China the Church still 
 lives. The movement long in progress toward the development 
 of an indigenous support has been forced forward prematurely, at 
 
280 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 the cost of hardship and infinite difficulty. But a church organiza- 
 tion carries on; a definite Christian witness exists throughout the 
 land. And those who have seen drastic changes at rather short in- 
 tervals in the past fifty years do not abandon hope. 
 
 Meanwhile, the service of the missionaries remains in the deepest 
 sense untouched, distilled in the lives, in the transformed spirit of 
 thousands. 
 
Qiapfer 19 
 SERVING THE WORLD'S YOUTH 
 
 o 
 
 N A MORNING late in March of 1897 a young man 
 brought to Mrs. McCormick a work in which she was ever after to 
 share as a creative partner. The young man, tall, grave, earnest, was 
 John R. Mott, destined to be a world figure in international re- 
 ligious movements. He had just returned from a foreign tour of 
 great significance, one that Mrs. McCormick had helped make 
 possible, and it was the story of that tour that he told to her and 
 to her son Cyrus in the house on Rush Street. 
 
 The journey had occupied over twenty months, covering nearly 
 sixty thousand miles in twenty-two countries, and at the beginning 
 of it the World's Student Christian Federation had been formed. 
 This was a union of the five great intercollegiate movements in 
 existence when the tour began, reinforced by six more that were 
 created before it ended. Now student movements in North Amer- 
 ica, Great Britain, in Germany, Scandinavia, in India, China, 
 Japan, South Africa, and in other mission lands were linked. 
 
 John R. Mott described for his two listeners the scene in the 
 ancient Swedish royal castle of Vadstena when the Federation was 
 launched. Here in this famous medieval stronghold a conference of 
 students from Scandinavian countries took the necessary steps to- 
 ward sharing in an international union. After they left, six men 
 withdrew to a room high up in the castle — Luther D. Wishard and 
 Mr. Mott from North America, a man from Great Britain, one 
 from Germany, and two Scandinavians. In that atmosphere, with 
 toil and prayer, these men evolved a constitution for the Federa- 
 tion that was to unite Christian student movements throughout 
 the world. "Never since the Wartburg sheltered the great German 
 reformer while he was translating the Bible for the common peo- 
 
 *8i 
 
2 82 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 pie," Mr. Mott wrote later, "has a medieval castle served a purpose 
 fraught with larger blessing to all mankind." 
 
 Mrs. McCormick saw the vast possibilities, thrilled to them, 
 moved to meet them. But let Dr. Mott, looking back over long 
 years, tell the story: 
 
 "I can see it as though it were yesterday. Mrs. McCormick was 
 in bed, indisposed. She sat there propped up on pillows and said, 
 'Mr. Mott, this thing ought to go on. Can this thing run itself? 
 What is your plan?' 
 
 "She pierced right into the heart of the matter — she had a mar- 
 velous mind. I don't know of a person who had that quality to such 
 a degree, of looking all around and beyond and right into the heart. 
 'What is your plan?' she asked. 
 
 "I had to say that we hoped the interest of the national leaders 
 who were enlisted would carry the organization forward. 
 
 "She said, 'That may be all right nationally, but will your inter- 
 national plan, the linking of these people together so they can help 
 each other, work by itself? Ought you not to be free for this link- 
 ing process? 
 
 " 'That would doubtless safeguard it,' I answered. 
 
 " 'What is involved?' she asked. 
 
 " 'We would need helpers in this American work,' I answered. 
 'I would have to have helpers in order to get time for these jour- 
 neys, otherwise some people might criticise.' 
 
 "She said, 'You need money.' 
 
 "I said, 'Yes.' 
 
 " 'If I would give the money would that set you free?' 
 
 "I said, 'I would thus be set free to go as occasion required to 
 the ends of the earth.' 
 
 "She said, 'I can and will most gladly provide for that.' " 
 
 She did — generously, thoroughly, inspiringly, throughout the 
 rest of her life. 
 
 There was a great deal of background on both sides for this 
 conversation. Mrs. McCormick's interest in the Young Men's 
 Christian Association as a domestic organization dates from her 
 early married life and links into her sympathy with Dwight L. 
 Moody's work. Before the mid-sixties, as we have seen, Mr. Moody 
 had taken active part in the cause of the Young Men's Christian 
 Association in Chicago. Twice, to his call for aid in erecting an 
 
SERVING THE WORLD'S YOUTH 283 
 
 Association building, the elder Cyrus Hall McCormick had re- 
 sponded with a stock purchase of $10,000. Twice the Association 
 building burned — the first, Farwell Hall, in 1866, the second in 
 1 87 1. But three years later the new building opened. And in the 
 remaining years of his life Mr. McCormick gave annually to the 
 work radiating from that center. 
 
 Meantime his oldest son had taken a strong hand in Association 
 work. Cyrus H. McCormick, Jr. entered Princeton just after a 
 Princeton student, Luther D. Wishard, had pioneered in the forma- 
 tion of the Intercollegiate Young Men's Christian Association. 
 Cyrus knew of it, shared in it. At home he became a director of the 
 Chicago Association and a member of the International Com- 
 mittee which was formed in 1879. In February of 1881 the Mc- 
 Cormicks opened their fine new home in a reception to this young 
 agency in order to introduce its officials to prosperous Chicagoans. 
 Chief of these officials was Richard C. Morse, General Secretary 
 of the International Committee — a member of the Morse family 
 of telegraph fame, a gentleman and a scholar, and a notable money- 
 raiser. Mr. Morse presided, and young Cyrus, not then twenty-two 
 — tall, dark, wearing burnsides and hair in Russian pompadour 
 — made an earnest speech that evening about the importance and 
 needs of the work in the colleges. How far the word "Interna- 
 tional" was from having the significance in Young Men's Christian 
 Association work that it later acquired is shown by the range of 
 work described that evening — work among college students, com- 
 mercial travelers, German-speaking young men, colored young 
 men, railroad men. But the McCormicks were to take large part 
 in the extension of Association activities to truly international 
 scope. "You have furnished the fuel," wrote Mr. Wishard to the 
 McCormick family, "for kindling fires which are already shining 
 around the world and shall shine as the stars forever." 
 
 This fuel for international "fires" began, according to Mr. 
 Morse, with this reception and with the entry in the famous "little 
 red book" — a subscription book circulated annually by the Inter- 
 national Committee — of Mr. McCormick's signature and a thou- 
 sand dollar pledge. After Mr. McCormick's death a different entry 
 appeared — "in the name of Cyrus H. McCormick" — and the 
 amount rose gradually to higher figures. The entry never failed 
 during the remainder of Mrs. McCormick's life. 
 
284 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 The movement took on its missionary aspect early in 1889, 
 when the first two secretaries were sent on appointment to the 
 Orient — John Trumbull Swift to Japan, David McConaughy to 
 India. Another early phase was the four-year tour, 1868 to 1892, 
 of Mr. Wishard to colleges of Europe, Asia, and Africa. The 
 first college secretary, Mr. Wishard, now became the first mission- 
 ary secretary to help extend the movement. He was a pioneer, a 
 pathfinder, a man of "contagious power," and a magnetic speaker. 
 Pioneering with him, Mrs. McCormick and her son helped to pay 
 the expenses of Mr. Wishard's tour and on his return added in- 
 fluence to checks. 
 
 Meantime John R. Mott had entered upon the scene. On his 
 graduation in 1888 from Cornell, where he had been an outstanding 
 leader in the Christian student movement work, he had been prac- 
 tically commandeered for the post of Associate Student Secretary 
 of the International Committee to carry on, with C. K. Ober, Mr. 
 Wishard's work in his long absence on his world journey. 
 
 Touring the colleges of the United States and Canada, John R. 
 Mott began to get a vision of the need and possibilities of a similar 
 work abroad. The Young Men's Christian Association's foreign 
 work had been reinforced by the launching in the late eighties at 
 Mt. Hermon, Massachusetts of the Student Volunteer Movement 
 for Foreign Missions — an agency to secure missionary recruits 
 among students. This had reached across the seas to various insti- 
 tutions. Other Christian student groups existed; but there was no 
 world-wide Christian student organization. 
 
 In 1 89 1 Mr. Mott made his first trip abroad, attending at 
 Amsterdam the first world conference of the Young Men's Chris- 
 tian Association. Here, interviewing people right and left, getting 
 a flood of light on what local bands of students and professors 
 were doing in other countries, his vision sharpened and his purpose 
 strengthened. At least twice he broached his plan, in Amsterdam 
 to a little group gathered one evening in a tea room and in Oxford 
 walking around the university park with Robert P. Wilder — the 
 plan to form a union of Christian student societies throughout the 
 world. The plan was beginning to strike root. 
 
 Somewhere in these early nineties Cyrus McCormick took John 
 R. Mott from his own home to meet his mother, a few doors 
 away. This visit was followed by other similar visits and a grow- 
 
SERVING THE WORLD'S YOUTH 285 
 
 ing interest, until Mrs. McCormick was enlisted heart and soul in 
 the cause. 
 
 Three years later Mr. Mott went to Great Britain again, this time 
 on an invitation to aid in the student work there. Out of his tour of 
 the great universities of Great Britain and his share in a remark- 
 able student conference at Keswick came signal aid in the forma- 
 tion of the British College Christian Union and of the related Stu- 
 dent Volunteer Missionary Union. A second link was ready for 
 the chain soon to be forged. 
 
 During that visit Mr. Mott discussed his cherished hope of a 
 student union with three leaders of the work in Great Britain, 
 Germany, and France, all of whom approved. Meantime, in that 
 summer he received invitations to attend student conferences the 
 next year in Great Britain, Germany, Scandinavia, Switzerland, 
 and even invitations from leaders in India and Japan, asking him to 
 conduct campaigns among students. These invitations to aid the 
 world-wide work for students, all independent of one another, 
 gave Mr. Mott a deep sense that God was " working all over the 
 map preparing the way." These were divinely opened doors of 
 opportunity which he must enter. He resolved on a world jour- 
 ney. He had the endorsement of the appropriate committee of the 
 Young Men's Christian Association; but as this was not the work 
 of his salaried post, he surrendered his salary and raised the funds 
 in other ways. From July 1895 until March 1897 he and Mrs. Mott 
 were in "incessant voyage." 
 
 It was the thrilling story 1 of his journey that Mr. Mott told on 
 that March morning in 1897. 
 
 Within a month details had been worked out by which Mrs. 
 McCormick undertook to pay Mr. Mott's salary and expenses on 
 an annually renewable basis. 
 
 So this remarkable partnership began. Though it can hardly be 
 supposed that John R. Mott, having once glimpsed the Federation, 
 would have let it fall, it was Mrs. McCormick whose farsighted- 
 ness and generosity set it firmly on its young feet at the earliest 
 possible moment. From that day in 1897 forward she walked step 
 by step with John R. Mott through the unfolding of his work for 
 the world's students. His executive position at that time was a 
 
 1 Published as Strategic Points in the World's Conquest, New York, F. H. 
 Revell, 1897. 
 
286 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 triple one: senior student secretary of the International Committee 
 of the Young Men's Christian Associations, chairman of the Exec- 
 utive Committee of the Student Volunteer Movement for Foreign 
 Missions, general secretary of the World's Student Christian Fed- 
 eration. His triple activities were closely knit. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick had a deep conviction of the enormous im- 
 portance of the post Mr. Mott was filling and of its influence on 
 the Christian development of the student world. And before the 
 turn of the century she prepared to back her belief with an en- 
 dowment. She offered $50,000 for that purpose if her offer 
 could be matched. For several years the matching contribution 
 was not found; and here lies an instance of Mrs. McCormick's com- 
 bination of business firmness with generosity. The man whom the 
 hopeful Committee first approached, though he refused to invest 
 a large sum, offered for one year the equivalent of good interest 
 on that figure, with a strong suggestion that he would renew the 
 gift annually. The man was John D. Rockefeller. In their exuber- 
 ance the solicitors proposed that Mrs. McCormick consider this 
 as the equivalent of her gift. Her telegraphed answer left no loop- 
 hole: 
 
 "Surely you would not consider a pledge which is certain for 
 only one year as meeting gift that would yield that sum for all 
 time, if well invested. I do not so consider it. Would gladly ex- 
 tend time." 
 
 But in 1902 the offer was matched by a rival name in reaper 
 history, Mr. Chester D. Massey of Toronto, then the head of the 
 Massey-Harris Company. Mrs. McCormick herself had something 
 to do with this happy arrangement. For she went, impulsively, 
 to the great convention of the Student Volunteer Movement 
 which was held in Toronto from February 25 to March 2 of that 
 year. Mr. Mott had invited her and received no encouragement, 
 but suddenly she appeared. And Mr. Mott, who already had Mr. 
 Massey in view, promoted an acquaintance. Mr. and Mrs. Massey 
 entertained Mrs. McCormick and Mr. Mott at luncheon. They 
 were charmed with her and when, after Mr. Mott had introduced 
 the subject of the proposed endowment, Mrs. McCormick became 
 its advocate, the plan was well under way. She had a theme on 
 which she could be eloquent, regardless of John R. Mott's feelings. 
 In addition to her appeal, there was the giant argument of that 
 
SERVING THE WORLD'S YOUTH 287 
 
 great convention, filling the three tiers of the Masseys' own hall. 
 There was the argument presented by Mr. Mott's power as pre- 
 siding officer and speaker. 
 
 Mr. Massey's decision was not made during the convention, but 
 it came soon, and Mr. Mott's life work for students the world 
 over thus had solid backing. 
 
 At the convention Mrs. McCormick was an enthusiastic lis- 
 tener, even though she could not hear the addresses. Seated with 
 many others on the platform, she enjoyed looking out over the 
 great sea of faces and with the aid of her tube she could hear sing- 
 ing. She wrote about it shortly after her return: 
 
 "I have just come in from the interesting meeting at Toronto, 
 where I saw three thousand youths men and maidens from all the 
 great colleges and universities of Canada and the United States. 
 Every first-class institution, and many of the second class were 
 represented. It was delightful to see so many youths, of both sexes, 
 looking up at the speakers with bright young faces, — some 
 thoughtful but nearly all free from care. When they rose to sing, 
 led by a fine cornet, and sung: 'How firm a foundation ye saints of 
 the Lord; Is built for your faith in His excellent word/ the effect 
 was thrilling, and well worth of itself the whole trip. . . . 
 
 "The last meeting was the greatest, when many addresses were 
 made by such men as Earl Taylor, George Fox, Mr. Colton, Gil- 
 bert Beaver, John Mott, Robert Speer, and a host of others. At the 
 end, the one hundred and fifty — from all denominations — who 
 volunteered to go to the foreign field, stood up, and many of them 
 gave their reasons for volunteering." 
 
 Through Mr. Mott — Dr. Mott, presently — Mrs. McCormick's 
 interest reached out to many countries, many men. The range of 
 her gifts through him, according to his own careful outline, 
 reached over nine interests: 
 
 "1. My personal budget — toward salary and expenses 
 
 "2. Provision of a private secretary for me — from beginning of 
 the plan until end of her life 
 
 "3. My world journeys 
 
 "4. Great creative conventions 
 
 "5. Budgets of the causes I served. . . . 
 
 "6. Support of Y.M.C.A. Secretaries on all continents of the 
 world 
 
2 88 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 "7. War Work Campaigns of Y.M.C.A. . . . 
 "8. Retirement Fund of the Y.M.C.A. 
 
 "9. Foreign Y.M.C.A. Buildings in different parts of the world 
 not to mention literally scores of significant, isolated proj- 
 
 ects." 
 
 "Her traits as a giver," Dr. Mott once said, "must afford an ex- 
 ample to others for all time. . . . Her administration of a great 
 trust was an outstanding example of the right use of money. As a 
 giver she showed statesmanship, strategy. Statesmanship was 
 shown in her perceptions of situations and her counsel — always 
 one went away feeling lifted and helped by her advice. . . . 
 There was spaciousness and scope in her conceptions." 
 
 One of the foreign secretaries whom Mrs. McCormick knew 
 best was Sherwood Eddy. The meeting at which she began to 
 share in his work, as Mr. Eddy recalls it, was "striking, un- 
 forgettable." After fifteen years as student secretary in India, in 
 191 1 Mr. Eddy had been called to become Secretary for Asia. In 
 order to relieve Mr. Mott, he was to give nearly half of his time 
 in financial work at home for the Foreign Department, the rest on 
 the field in Asia. It was clear to him that for his home work he 
 would urgently need secretarial help; but he also knew that a re- 
 quest for such aid would be a serious embarrassment to the De- 
 partment. Though Mr. Eddy had never taken a salary for his 
 work, he could not afford to add a secretary to his own budget. 
 He had made this need a matter for prayer, and believing that it 
 would be met, had let it slip from his mind. This was his situation 
 when he went to a conference of student secretaries held at Lake 
 Forest and encountered Mrs. McCormick, then living at Villa 
 Turicum with Harold and Edith McCormick. She was in her car 
 when some one brought him up to her. Mr. Eddy vividly recalls 
 the incident: 
 
 "She said, 'Mr. Eddy, I have heard about your work. Where 
 are you going?' I said, 'I am going over here to the college to at- 
 tend this student gathering.' She said, 'Let me take you.' I got into 
 her car and we started. She said, 'Mr. Eddy, I know all about your 
 work.' This was characteristic of her. She knew everything — if 
 I had been from Egypt or Japan it wouldn't have made any differ- 
 ence. 'I know all about your work. I want to do something to 
 help you.' I said, 'I don't need any help. But,' I said, 'if you could 
 
SERVING THE WORLD'S YOUTH 289 
 
 do something to help the Y.M.C.A. or the Presbyterian Board I 
 would be glad/ She said, 'I am already helping the Y.M.C.A. and 
 I am helping the Presbyterian Board. I want to help you.' I said, 
 'Madam McCormick, I don't need anything.' I had literally for- 
 gotten! Then to my amazement she said, 'No, Mr. Eddy, I want 
 to help you. Will you let me give you a private secretary and pay 
 his salary and expenses wherever you travel around the world?' 
 Well, I nearly fell over. 'Madam McCormick,' I said, 'that is the 
 one thing I have been praying for. But it was entirely out of my 
 mind when I said, "I don't need anything." ' She never failed to 
 send in that money until the day she died." And the gift was con- 
 tinued. 
 
 Another secretary whom she held dear — both the man and his 
 work — was Fletcher S. Brockman, for years the chief Secretary 
 in China and at another period Dr. Mott's right-hand man and sub- 
 stitute whenever Dr. Mott was out of this country. Once she paid 
 Mr. Brockman a beautiful compliment. En route to China he wired 
 that he found himself in need of an additional $2500 "to make more 
 effective the important plans which have been arranged ... by 
 Church and Y.M.C.A. leaders in China, Manchuria, Siberia, Korea, 
 and Japan," and asked her for the sum. Promptly she wired back: 
 "Will gladly do this whether for you personally or interwoven 
 with Y.M.C.A. work. Your message not clear on this point but 
 my high regard for you overrides uncertainty." 
 
 In responding, Fletcher Brockman added to his telegraphed 
 assurance that the money requested was for official uses these 
 words: "Your confidence and cooperation are among the chief 
 inspirations of my life." 
 
 Dr. Brockman's recollection of his first meeting with Mrs. 
 McCormick furnishes a vivid example both of her intense interest 
 in people and of the operation of her amazing memory. Known to 
 her only through John R. Mott's words about him, Fletcher 
 Brockman had come to interest her in an enterprise. To his sur- 
 prise he found her first interest in him and his family. She had 
 learned that he was a native of Virginia. What part of the state? 
 Albemarle. Oh, very near the McCormicks. Where was Mrs. 
 Brockman from? How many children? Their names? What oppor- 
 tunities do you have in China for their education? And so on. 
 
 In the many visits that Mr. Brockman made there afterward, 
 
290 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 Mrs. McCormick never gave any indication of having forgotten 
 a detail about the Brockmans. Once when he came to see her after 
 a tour through Manchuria, Mongolia, Siberia, and Russia, she 
 asked whether he had met the agent of the International Har- 
 vester Company in a certain Siberian town. She recalled the agent's 
 name, told how many children he had, how splendidly he had be- 
 come adjusted to the difficult conditions in Siberia, and recounted 
 what he had told her on his last visit home. Then followed in- 
 quiries about United States officials, consuls, and ministers in differ- 
 ent sections of the world that Mr. Brockman had covered, business 
 people, and missionaries — some of them in remote and unfre- 
 quented places. 
 
 "As a mental feat," said Mr. Brockman, "it was remarkable; it 
 amounted to genius. I mention it, however, not as an indication of 
 the distinction of her intellect, but rather as characteristic of her 
 attitude toward life. She was a student of world trends, a states- 
 man whose opinions commanded the high regard of great leaders. 
 . . . But she never allowed herself to think only in the terms of 
 institutions, movements, or abstract principles. She must judge 
 them through their effects upon people. All political parties, edu- 
 cational institutions, causes requiring help, even business enter- 
 prises such as the International Harvester Company, were to her 
 first groups of individuals." 
 
 It was no wonder that she read the reports, typed, mimeo- 
 graphed, printed, that came to her in quantities. She had a passion 
 for information about the world she lived in and in these reports 
 and letters, supplemented by the talk of the writers, that world 
 went by her in review. These leaders of youth were men of far 
 perspectives and broad grasp, men of intellectual power and ability 
 to express, and the times they pictured for her spanned tremen- 
 dous changes. John R. Mott and Fletcher Brockman, for example, 
 were reporting to her about China when men still sat imprisoned 
 for days in the little cells of the vast Government examination 
 booths and women still bound their feet. Carlisle V. Hibbard, 
 home after intensive work in Manchuria, told her of the terrible 
 conditions among Japanese soldiers at an army base after the sur- 
 render of Port Arthur in 1905, and the Young Men's Christian As- 
 sociation's effort to offer Christian ideas along with laundry soap, 
 hot water, barbering, and medicine. 
 
SERVING THE WORLDS YOUTH 29 1 
 
 The thrill of the Chinese Revolution, when the Manchus were 
 overthrown and the Chinese Republic was set up, came to her 
 from more than one eager worker. Sherwood Eddy wrote from 
 the compartment of a train in China in which he was a fellow pas- 
 senger with General Sun, whose "face and hands are still scarred 
 and burned with the explosion of that first bomb, which, like the 
 spark of Paul Revere, set the nation ablaze." 
 
 From Constantinople Sherwood Eddy wrote when the Sultan 
 still rode by in the streets, and whirling dervishes expressed a mystic 
 faith, and women wore the veil. George M. Day, Sherwood Eddy, 
 and John R. Mott wrote and spoke of the Russian students at suc- 
 cessive periods. "The poverty, the depression, the despair, the doubt 
 and agnosticism of these students was pathetic," wrote Mr. Eddy 
 in 191 2. "Nowhere have I met with such affection, such gratitude. 
 It was a new experience to be kissed by rough-bearded men stu- 
 dents, to be tossed in the air after a series of meetings, and to be 
 given crosses, pictures, prayer books, flowers, and other tokens of 
 gratitude by these poverty-stricken students." Both John R. Mott 
 and Sherwood Eddy were aboundingly optimistic in 191 2 of the 
 future of these students and counted, rightly, on the breadth of 
 Mrs. McCormick's interest to include them in her gifts as long as 
 she could be assured that the money would reach its goal. 
 
 "I am deeply interested," Mrs. McCormick once wrote to John 
 R. Mott, "in what you are doing for the youth of the world." 
 
 Mrs. McCormick's interest in all this work for young men did 
 not preclude her caring for and aiding similar work for young 
 women. Her gifts to the Young Women's Christian Association ex- 
 tended over a long period and followed much the same pattern as 
 in the case of the Young Men's Christian Association, though less 
 consistently and on a much smaller scale: local beginnings — in the 
 youth of the movement — Association House in Chicago, the salary 
 of a Chicago secretary; special interest in the beginnings of work 
 for employed women; later, extension all the way to international 
 activities and Elizabeth Wilson's work as the creator of a training 
 school in India. Mrs. McCormick knew and honored Grace Dodge, 
 national president; had indeed long known her family; she la- 
 mented her death and made a $50,000 gift to a memorial fund 
 in her memory. 
 
 There had been an interval of a few years in her active interest, 
 
292 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 perhaps only because of the changes of scene with the organization 
 of the National Board out of two other groups. Elizabeth Wilson, 
 then an executive secretary of the National Board, was sent to 
 re-interest her if possible. She was received by Mrs. McCormick, 
 who was indisposed in bed in a New York hotel, clad in an exqui- 
 site white nun's veiling negligee. Miss Wilson felt not only warm 
 admiration but pity that Mrs. McCormick was partly shut out by 
 deafness from the world in which she was so keenly interested. As 
 she rose to leave at the close of an interview which had not netted 
 contribution or pledge, she suggested prayer, if Mrs. McCormick 
 wished. Instantly Mrs. McCormick gestured to her maid, "Au- 
 gusta, kneel down! Miss Wilson is going to pray." As Miss Wilson 
 concluded her prayer, which wasn't about the Young Women's 
 Christian Association, Mrs. McCormick added an Amen, and then 
 — "Augusta, get my check book — I am going to give Miss Wilson 
 a thousand dollars." 
 
 If church missionary work and the undenominational lay work 
 of the international student movements are separated in these 
 pages, it is not because they were separate in Mrs. McCormick's 
 mind or activity. Because so much of her church missionary giving 
 was to schools, the two interests have the close bond of concentra- 
 tion on the needs of youth. 
 
 Indeed the later phases of John R. Mott's many-sided work in 
 themselves were to tie together for Mrs. McCormick the mission- 
 ary interests of church and of student organizations. For while 
 continuing all of his other activities John R. Mott took the leader- 
 ship in promoting union of the missionary forces of the world. He 
 was chosen chairman of the World Missionary Conference at 
 Edinburgh in 19 10, the first great international gathering of its 
 type. Then he was asked to be chairman of its Continuation Com- 
 mittee, and because he believed that a "practical plan of coopera- 
 tion entered into intelligently and adhered to loyally by the mis- 
 sionary forces of the different nations and churches would be more 
 than the equivalent of doubling the present missionary staff of 
 20,000 Protestant missionaries," he consented. In his new capacity 
 Dr. Mott set up a series of twenty-one conferences in as many 
 areas of Asia, besides visiting hundreds of missionaries. But also, in 
 his long-standing relation to the world student movements, he 
 
SERVING THE WORLD S YOUTH 293 
 
 shared with Sherwood Eddy in conducting a great evangelistic 
 campaign among the students of Asia. 
 
 For this program, outlined in detail to her, Mrs. McCormick 
 was one of the dozen sponsors and financial backers. Through the 
 years she followed this broad missionary development of Dr. 
 Mott's work. She knew when national councils were built up, 
 until by 192 1 all were woven together into the International Mis- 
 sionary Council, with Dr. Mott as chairman. 
 
 While all this thought and money were being given to inter- 
 national work, the home Young Men's Christian Association was 
 not neglected. Buildings in several states received Mrs. McCor- 
 mick's gifts in varying measure. So did summer conferences and 
 training schools. But the foreign work — the International Commit- 
 tee and the organizations linked with it for her through Dr. Mott 
 — had strongest claim on her interest. To this she gave creatively 
 with an understanding and penetration that Dr. Mott did not hesi- 
 tate to call "prophetic." 
 
 Today no Young Men's Christian Association leaders from out- 
 side are in China or in Russia. In other countries — more than sev- 
 enty — the work carries on, and those who have watched the course 
 of history through the years feel justified in the hope that China, 
 which has changed so much and so often in a few decades, can 
 change again from atheistic Communism to some form of freedom 
 in politics and religion. 
 
 In 1 95 1 Dr. Mott, still a world leader though in technical retire- 
 ment, was saying: "The all-embracing World Student Christian 
 Federation and the many related Christian Movements and Associ- 
 ations are facing an absolutely unprecedented world outlook — un- 
 precedented in danger, in opportunity, and in urgency." And, re- 
 ferring to his own more than sixty years of travel in more than 
 eighty countries, he said: "Through it all has been the dominant 
 purpose to weave together in fellowship, in thought and in action 
 all nations, all races and all communions. And to this end the cen- 
 tral, the pervading, the dominant purpose has been to make Jesus 
 Christ known, trusted, loved and obeyed in personal life and in all 
 human relationships." 2 
 
 'World Communique, April, 1951. Reprinted by permission of World Com- 
 munique (bi-monthly publication of the World's Alliance of Y.M.CA.'s) and 
 Dr. John R. Mott. 
 
CLIMAX 
 
Onapfer 20 
 BIRTHDAY PARTY 
 
 VyN FEBRUARY 8, 191 5 there was a birthday party at 675 
 Rush Street. It was a surprise party to celebrate the eightieth birth- 
 day of the lady who lived there. 
 
 And it turned a burning white light on all of that lady's benefi- 
 cent life — her friendships, her world-wide business interests, and 
 above all her gifts, of money and soul, to philanthropies — educa- 
 tional, social, civic, and above all religious. 
 
 It reflected her truly, because one who knew the whole range 
 had planned the observance. This was her daughter Anita, Mrs. 
 Emmons Blaine. Choosing names carefully, Mrs. Blaine sent out 
 invitations to a dinner, invitations to a reception, and hundreds of 
 messages inviting cables and telegrams of greeting. These mes- 
 sages went to distant friends and relatives, to offices and agencies 
 of the far-flung International Harvester Company, to faculties of 
 schools and colleges in South and Middle West and West, to mis- 
 sion stations — Presbyterian, Young Men's Christian Association, or 
 other — throughout the whole round world. 
 
 All responses came to Mrs. Blaine's address, not her mother's, 
 and by the time that eighth of February arrived, there was a siz- 
 able pile of paper outpourings of admiration, gratitude, and love. 
 They waited their appointed time. 
 
 The idea for the party had dawned on Mrs. Blaine early in the 
 winter in a moment when she found her mother in a mood of de- 
 pression and loneliness. Mrs. Blaine had felt, as she left her moth- 
 er's room, that something must happen to lift her up. The idea 
 grew through weeks, like a plant, larger and larger, and flowered 
 into a plan. 
 
 Secrecy was part of it. And the secrecy held. Cyrus and Harriet 
 McCormick came to breakfast, bringing eighty pink roses; Mrs. 
 
 297 
 
298 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 Blaine handed her mother a lovely pearl locket. Presently flowers 
 began to arrive, flowers that were to fill the house as the day 
 passed. But there was no word of a party. 
 
 During the morning — a fine, sunny morning — Mrs. Blaine sug- 
 gested a drive for the two of them, her mother and herself; Mrs. 
 McCormick accepted; and thus time was gained for necessary ar- 
 rangements at the house. Afterward Mrs. Blaine casually said: 
 "Some people are coming in for tea. You'll be sure to rest, won't 
 you?" So Mrs. McCormick had luncheon upstairs and rested. 
 Later her daughter returned from across the street, bringing a 
 lovely gown which she had ordered, and Mrs. McCormick's maid, 
 Augusta, proudly dressed her — in silver brocaded gray satin, 
 trimmed with cream lace, silver lace, and fur. 
 
 Downstairs she stood with Mrs. Blaine near the rounded win- 
 dows of the drawing room, while a long line of guests came to 
 greet her. Shining-eyed and radiant she was, clearly enjoying the 
 party. Graceful, supple, with a little bend forward that was more 
 a matter of chosen posture than of burdening years, she spoke to 
 the long line, one by one, with a special word for nearly every 
 guest who passed, calling the names of some whom she had not 
 seen for years. An instance was a former president of Lake Forest 
 College, who had hardly expected her to recall him; but as she 
 took his hand she not only spoke his name unhesitatingly but also 
 told him how much she had enjoyed reading a baccalaureate 
 address he had sent her — giving the title and referring convinc- 
 ingly to the contents. An old McCormick Harvesting Machine 
 Company man was proud, in after years, to recall how long she 
 had held up the line to talk with him. And another remembered 
 happily that as he was giving his surname to Mrs. Blaine, Mrs. 
 McCormick greeted him by his first name. These men from the 
 factory brought with them, in charming tribute, a gift of eighty 
 roses. 
 
 After the reception guests had gone, the honor guest was per- 
 suaded to rest in her room. When she came down again it was to a 
 dinner. All her family were gathered, and besides these enough 
 friends to bring the number to eighty, seated about little tables in 
 dining room and adjoining library. Mrs. McCormick was placed 
 as near center as possible, at a larger family table in the dining 
 room. At the conclusion of the dinner, two of Mrs. McCormick's 
 
BIRTHDAY PARTY 299 
 
 grandsons carried in a great silver tray with eighty little can- 
 dles thrust into eighty little cakes. Impulsively Mrs. McCormick 
 jumped up and began to hand the lighted cakes around to the 
 guests. 
 
 Then came the real point of the party. Trays piled high with 
 messages had been brought in with the cakes. Now a stereopticon 
 was put in operation in the library and disclosed to guests gath- 
 ered close about it scenes from the beginnings of time up through 
 glimpses of Nettie Fowler in her early life as a St. Lawrence 
 River girl, and a panorama of colleges, missions, boarding schools, 
 or hospitals to which Mrs. McCormick had given creative aid — all 
 against a background of piano music. And as each picture — Tuscu- 
 lum, Nanking, Chiengmai, Allahabad, Hastings, or whatever — 
 flashed on the screen, the corresponding message was read out. All 
 went well. As Mrs. McCormick saw people she knew, she would 
 call out their names. But suddenly it seemed to dawn on her that 
 the telegrams and cables were praising her — whereupon she 
 stopped the performance. "Why, I haven't done anything," she 
 said, "it is these other people: please play the piano." 
 
 And that was that. But enough pictures had been shown to tell 
 the story of love and service that had gone out to the world. 
 
Ohapiter 21 
 HOUSE-IN-THE- WOODS 
 
 o 
 
 NE of Mrs. McCormick's children felt that in some subtle 
 way she was different in the years that remained after the memo- 
 rable birthday party — more lifted above the daily scene perhaps, 
 still more spiritual. However that may have been, the setting of 
 her life was different. For before the end of the next year she be- 
 gan to occupy her own house in Lake Forest. Her children had for 
 some time thought that as the years mounted and her strength less- 
 ened she should live out of the noise and dirt and pressures of the 
 city. Besides, the Rush Street house was filled with the past and 
 they did not like finding her, tired and dusty-fingered, working 
 among old papers, old things in her storerooms. Perhaps they did 
 not understand her satisfactions in that occupation. However, 
 when Mrs. Blaine broached the subject of a country house, her 
 mother fell in with the idea. 
 
 The choice was Lake Forest, which she knew so well. A lot was 
 selected on Sheridan Road and Mrs. Blaine supervised the plan- 
 ning and building of a house, to be her mother's "own corner and 
 beauty spot out of the city." Mrs. McCormick had a voice in it all, 
 calling for changes and greatly enjoying the whole proceeding. 
 There was, to be sure, a little stretch of time in which she felt 
 overwhelmed by the "elaborateness" of the house and shrank 
 "from having so complicated and valuable an estate to manage and 
 live in," especially at past eighty. But Mrs. Blaine's reassurances 
 were persuasive, though while it was going up Mrs. McCormick 
 called it "Anita's house." Eventually, however, it was her own. 
 
 House-in-the-Woods, as Mrs. Blaine named it, is a lovely house, 
 artistically designed, arranged for perfect comfort as well as 
 charm and set in a forest of its own. A tea-house stands at a pleas- 
 ant distance; there is a walled garden where Mrs. McCormick 
 
 300 
 
HOUSE-IN-THE- WOODS 3OI 
 
 often enjoyed outdoor meals even in winter, and fine paths 
 through the woods provided means of daily outing for her in 
 wheel chair or little electric runabout. Visitors were sometimes 
 sent out for this form of relaxation, Dr. Wilfred Grenfell for in- 
 stance. He told the story: 
 
 "When I arrived from Labrador to see her at her invitation, the 
 first thing she said was, 'You look tired, you must rest a bit before 
 we talk.' She immediately called for her secretary, an elderly gen- 
 tleman with grey hair, told him to get her bath chair, put me into 
 it and wheel me round the garden. One saw at once that there was 
 no arguing, so I mounted the very comfortable contraption, and 
 allowed the old gentleman to push me out of sight. Then we came 
 to terms that one good turn deserves another. But the whole thing 
 gave me the rest I needed, and, what is more, when I went back 
 Madame McCormick at once knew that I had got what she 
 wanted. . . ." 
 
 The house was finished and furnished in time for its mistress to 
 begin living there in October, 191 6 — not very far from Villa 
 Turicum, the home she had shared with Harold and Edith nor 
 from Walden, Cyrus H. McCormick's estate. She delighted in this 
 exquisite place, but she often went in to spend days or even weeks 
 in her long-loved Rush Street home. And in six of her remaining 
 years she traveled, on physician's orders, to the softer airs of Cali- 
 fornia, living in Pasadena or Coronado through the weeks of late 
 winter and spring. These California intervals were spent chiefly 
 in rented houses that gave her every luxury and beauty of environ- 
 ment. 
 
 Family interests, family events crowded thick in these late years. 
 There were careers to watch developing, there was family partici- 
 pation in the First World War to draw on a motherly heart. There 
 were births, marriages, divorce, deaths in the immediate circle. 
 
 It was a deep satisfaction to Mrs. McCormick that her grandson 
 Cyrus McCormick, after graduation at Princeton and study at 
 Oxford, entered the family business, beginning as a salesman, rising 
 through various posts to be vice president of manufacturing in next 
 to the last year of his grandmother's life. She was gone long before 
 his career ran in another channel. 
 
 Emmons Blaine, who like his father was a graduate of Harvard, 
 went on to study engineering at the Massachusetts Institute of 
 
302 NETTIE FOWLER MC CORMICK 
 
 Technology. When he announced his decision to practice as an 
 engineer his grandmother was distressed. "Has Emmons ever had 
 the work of 'The International' pressed upon him?" she asked her 
 son Harold. "As a grandson of the inventor of the Reaper Emmons 
 would naturally gravitate to the business of the family." But he 
 didn't and there was nothing to do about it, especially as his 
 mother would have opposed "pressing" anything upon him. By 
 the time Gordon McCormick elected to be an architect, his grand- 
 mother apparently did not object. His interest in architecture was, 
 indeed, in a way celebrated by a gift of "Mrs. Cyrus H. McCor- 
 mick, Sr. and her sons and grandsons" to erect a building at Prince- 
 ton for the school of architecture — McCormick Hall. She would 
 have been glad to foresee Fowler McCormick following in the 
 steps of his uncle and his father as successively President and 
 Chairman of the Board of the International Harvester Company. 
 
 Three of the grandchildren married during Mrs. McCormick's 
 lifetime. Cyrus was deeply disappointed because his adored grand- 
 mother was too ill after her eightieth birthday party to come to 
 his and Dorothy Linn's wedding a few days later. She could not 
 venture on the long, cold trip when Emmons Blaine went, in win- 
 ter time, to Portsmouth, New Hampshire to marry Eleanor 
 Gooding, in the same church in which her minister father and 
 mother had been married thirty years before. The young people 
 had met in Chicago when Eleanor was visiting a school friend and, 
 according to Mrs. Blaine, "it was settled in the heavens then & 
 there." 
 
 Mrs. McCormick welcomed her new granddaughters-in-law 
 warmly. Remembering her own emotions when her children mar- 
 ried she felt sympathy with Mrs. Blaine in the separation from her 
 son in the companionship of daily life, as well as in her joy at gain- 
 ing a daughter. 
 
 Late in her life Mrs. McCormick's youngest grandchild, Har- 
 old's and Edith's daughter, Mathilde, became engaged very young, 
 to Max Oser, a Swiss cavalry officer of forty-five — creating family 
 tensions and furnishing a sensational morsel for the newspapers. 
 How gallantly Mrs. McCormick met the situation when they mar- 
 ried abroad, is shown in a telegram to the young bride's father: 
 "Please cable Mathilde following: 'Am with you in spirit on your 
 happy wedding day. My dear love to Max. Grandmother.' " 
 
HOUSE-IN-THE- WOODS 303 
 
 In the midst of the "punitive expedition" against Mexico in 191 6, 
 Mrs. McCormick's niece, Kate Fowler, married Van Santvoord 
 Merle-Smith, seven days before Squadron A of the New York 
 National Guard to which he belonged was sent to the border. The 
 next year Marjorie Fleming, Mrs. McCormick's great-niece, mar- 
 ried his cousin, Wilton Lloyd-Smith, then a lieutenant in the Army. 
 
 Each marriage took place on short notice and Mrs. McCormick 
 rushed to New York to be present. She felt she was the representa- 
 tive of her brother. 
 
 Both of the young men were later in long intensive action. 
 Wilton Lloyd-Smith was a captain of artillery; Van Santvoord 
 Merle-Smith, a captain of infantry in the famous "Rainbow Divi- 
 sion," with a delayed promotion to major following before he left 
 France. 
 
 Three of Mrs. McCormick's four grandsons were in war service 
 too — Cyrus McCormick a lieutenant in the air force, "taking care 
 of the construction of aeroplanes," his grandmother said; Gordon 
 McCormick an officer of instruction in artillery, and during the 
 closing weeks of the war exposed to fire while serving as aide to 
 General Charles H. Martin; and Emmons Blaine in engineering at 
 the shipyards near Philadelphia. Even the youngest, Fowler Mc- 
 Cormick, still a student at Princeton during the war, had driven 
 an ambulance in France in the summer of 191 6. 
 
 Within less than a year after his marriage Emmons Blaine fell 
 a victim to the influenza that raged in 191 8. The tragedy of his 
 death, so young, so promising, struck deep in Mrs. McCormick's 
 heart, not only for herself but for her beloved daughter in the loss 
 of her only child. 
 
 A few weeks after his death there came, in solace, the birth of 
 his little daughter Anne, with Mrs. Blaine giving herself utterly in 
 the fight for life at the hospital and in a following period of care in 
 her own house. Later, Mrs. McCormick wrote: "Our dear Anita — 
 since the happy world in which she moved and lived was despoiled 
 by the great despoiler — has inherited another world which has ab- 
 sorbed her great loving nature — and that is Emmons' dear Eleanor, 
 and Emmons' dear daughter. With these beloved ones she is occu- 
 pied, and while it can never be supposed she is entirely happy, yet 
 she would never let you say that she was not perfectly so, in her 
 
304 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 great love for the two priceless interests that have happily fallen 
 into her arms." 
 
 In her remaining years Mrs. McCormick delighted in this her 
 one great-grandchild, seeing the little girl often. "The best enjoy- 
 ment I can now have," she wrote, "is to go to my daughter's house 
 and there have a little visit with my great-granddaughter, who is 
 so full of sweetness and good nature." (This was the child Nancy 
 — Anne Blaine, who as Mrs. Gilbert A. Harrison was to be the 
 mother of Mrs. McCormick's great-great-grandsons, David Blaine 
 and James Louis Harrison.) 
 
 Another grievous loss came in the death of Harriet McCormick 
 in 192 1. Mrs. McCormick wrote from Lake Forest to her son 
 Cyrus on the day of his wife's death, January 17: 
 
 "My dear son — my dear first-born: 
 
 "In our sorrow we do feel that for our dear one it is well! She 
 has reached the heavenly shore and breathes the air of immortality. 
 Silence and pain broods over our hearts, but she is happy in God's 
 presence and in the love of Jesus Christ; and she is with darling 
 Elizabeth, our beloved child. 
 
 "... For me there is no comfort save as my disturbed spirit 
 puts trust in God. It seems but a day since Harriet came to tell me 
 of going to the hospital. As it seems to me now, she was speaking 
 from the threshold of the heavenly home. It is all so unreal. God 
 is the only comfort now, and there we will anchor our burdened 
 souls." 
 
 Still another personal situation that drew heavily on Mrs. 
 McCormick's motherly feelings was that of Harold McCormick 
 and his family. In 191 3 Harold, Edith, and their three children 
 went abroad. From that year on into 1922 Harold and the children 
 moved back and forth — Harold west on business, east to be with 
 his wife, or to bring some one of the children home. Edith McCor- 
 mick did not return for eight years. She was held in Switzerland 
 by the need she felt to continue treatments under Professor Jung, 
 famous psychoanalyst. Harold McCormick reported back happily 
 on her progressive release from fears and resistances and told of his 
 own interest in this way of thinking. Without being able to follow 
 along with her son and daughter-in-law in their new views, Mrs. 
 McCormick nevertheless gave them sympathy. Whenever the chil- 
 dren were in Chicago, she enjoyed them greatly, welcoming the 
 
HOUSE-IN-THE- WOODS 305 
 
 visits of Muriel and Mathilde, and seeing Fowler often in his 
 vacations from Groton and Princeton. 
 
 But the concern that she felt over the long absences, over her 
 adored son Harold's separation from family and business, was a 
 strain, and a strain heightened in the war years when her eagerness 
 for his return was checked by fear to have him cross the sea. She 
 was deeply interested in a program for peace that he evolved and 
 had printed — a plan for the daily publication by both sides of their 
 peace plans. Though it was not adopted, this sincere Via Pads at- 
 tracted considerable attention. Mrs. McCormick, eager to make 
 her son's work known, sent copies to President Wilson, to members 
 of Congress, and to others in high position. 
 
 When at last Edith McCormick returned to Chicago late in 192 1, 
 the marriage was finished. She went to the great stone house on 
 Lake Shore Drive while Harold on his return occupied his house 
 in Lake Forest. A few months later divorce confirmed the end of 
 a marriage that had held much beauty and happiness. It was a grief 
 to Mrs. McCormick, not only for the break in her son's life, but 
 for the loss to her of Edith with whom in earlier years she had 
 been so congenial and whom she loved. 
 
 Within a year Harold and Ganna Walska, Polish opera singer, 
 were married in Paris. When a few months later they remarried 
 under Illinois law, it was in Mrs. McCormick's house in Lake 
 Forest. In this home Ganna Walska was warmly welcomed, as 
 indeed was every one who entered Mrs. McCormick's family by 
 marriage. She wrote to a relative: "While we might wonder at the 
 basis of Harold's choice of home maker, we think there is no flaw 
 in Harold's true devotion and singleness of heart and principle." 
 Years later Harold McCormick said: "Ganna liked Mamma ever 
 so much, but it was not expressed in companionship — it was more 
 philosophical and theoretical. But I have seen them together — 
 Ganna would play up to Mamma like one child to another, and 
 Mamma would respond. I think that would be the point of view — 
 not to . . . get into deep water. But Mamma was always fine." 
 
 How had the mounting years changed this woman? Her hair 
 was white now, the soft skin somewhat wrinkled. But she still had 
 distinction in looks, with a radiant sweetness of expression, and she 
 still moved with grace. Her mind had keenness. She had her life- 
 long zest for facts and loved to pursue them, night being just as 
 
306 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 acceptable as daytime for the purpose. For the habit of reading or 
 working in the night, when she could not sleep, persisted. Often 
 she went to bed with a slip of paper under her pillow and a pencil 
 at hand, to catch a stray night-borne idea. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick's economical tendency was perhaps more 
 marked in the late years. At least the cook found it hard to meet 
 the requirement of bills down and hospitality up. And she was 
 loath to spend money on herself. In these years, therefore, both to 
 save her strength and to make sure she had suitable clothes, Mrs. 
 Blaine chose and ordered for her lovely things: the daintiest em- 
 broidered muslins, in white, gray, mauve for summer, an abun- 
 dance of warm things for winter; including the type of bonnet 
 with ties, sometimes trimmed with ostrich tips, that she habitually 
 wore. 
 
 People who recalled their impressions of her in the later years 
 smiled as they thought of certain little characteristic ways. There 
 was a habit of clearing her throat before she spoke, especially per- 
 haps if what she was about to say had a flavor of admonition. An- 
 other habit was to take choice portions from her plate at table and 
 have them deposited, willy-nilly, on the plate of a guest. As the 
 food at her table was abundant, the recipient sometimes was un- 
 happy. Incidentally, she was throughout her housekeeping a won- 
 derful carver. She was not one to remain uninformed about the 
 location of joints and the correct way to slice roasts — nor about 
 anything else in the range of skills called for in a woman's life. Still 
 another characteristic action was to remove the hearing tube from 
 her ear when she had heard enough — an action that of course left 
 the talker helpless. 
 
 Always she had the devoted care of those in her service. Some 
 had been with her for years — all adored her — not because they 
 were highly paid, either, or even promptly paid until the late years 
 when that matter was put on a business basis. Her kindness and 
 pleasant ways, her care of them in illness, and their admiration for 
 her held them close. Some of them were there for decades. One 
 was William Hansen, coachman from Mr. McCormick's time and 
 for years houseman, until illness made him inactive. It was William 
 who was often called upon to go forth deep in the night to take a 
 cab and carry to the main post office letters that his mistress held 
 urgent. Mr. Gorton, already referred to, sometimes performed the 
 
HOUSE-IN-THE- WOODS 307 
 
 same service. Caroline Swenson was cook or general house worker 
 for about fifty years, with intervals. In old age and illness she was 
 cared for by Mrs. McCormick in a hospital. 
 
 Outstanding was the devotion of Augusta Carlson, Mrs. McCor- 
 mick's personal maid for twenty-five years — Augusta to whom 
 Mrs. McCormick was "next to Him above." She watched over 
 and protected her mistress regardless of time or effort. Together 
 she and Mr. Gorton, watchdog of her interests, spared her all pos- 
 sible strain. In several of her final years she had the additional pro- 
 tection supplied by an arrangement that Mrs. Blaine managed tact- 
 fully to achieve — the constant care of a nurse-companion, Miss 
 Elizabeth Bostater for a large part of the time. 
 
 Though she obeyed directions and spent many hours out-of- 
 doors, Mrs. McCormick was by no means idle at House-in-the- 
 Woods. All of the chief interests to which she had given so much 
 of herself as well as her means were carried on right through the 
 later years. Checks continued to go out to causes already named, 
 to many others which there is not room to mention. College men 
 and missionaries, ministers, Y.M.C.A. and Y.W.C.A. leaders, 
 spokesmen of reforms, social and civic, came to the house on 
 Sheridan Road in person, by telephone, and by letter, as they 
 had done to Rush Street (and continued to do when she was in 
 Chicago) — only in lesser numbers. For family and staff united to 
 save her from too many drains on her strength. Perhaps she did 
 more in the familiar setting of Rush Street. At any rate she wrote 
 in 1920: "You would be surprised to know the number of decisions 
 reached on various things down here at Rush St. and the achieve- 
 ments I have made in getting things done." But even in the Cali- 
 fornia intervals, with the aid of a stenographer and the nurse-com- 
 panion, Mrs. McCormick kept up her voluminous correspondence, 
 though she wrote fewer letters now in her own hand. She had a 
 certain amount of social life too. "We have kept up our social 
 privileges," she wrote, "receiving our close friends . . . some- 
 times at luncheon, and sometimes for tea." But at another time 
 she reported that she saw no one, heard nothing, and even if these 
 words exaggerated, one gathers the impression that there were 
 lonely stretches in her Lake Forest days. "This place in the 
 woods," she wrote once, "you might rightly infer is a kind of soli- 
 tude, and there is a certain isolation that makes it easy to rest when 
 
308 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 we are commanded to rest by the powers that be. And as long as 
 they have sway, we do keep to the truth in saying that this is a 
 kind of 'Sleepy Hollow.' " Her son Harold called the place "The 
 House of Peace." 
 
 Among the representatives of causes that have been left in 
 earlier pages as unfinished stories was Dr. Barend H. Kroeze, 
 president of Jamestown College up in the bitter Dakota cold. It 
 was he who started this school on a new course, along which Mrs. 
 McCormick went with him. "I want you to know," Dr. Kroeze 
 once wrote, "that this college is the product of your work and 
 thought and gifts." 
 
 Dr. Kroeze gave Mrs. McCormick an unprecedented experience. 
 When she pledged the money to build Taber Hall, her secretary 
 warned that there must be no coming back for more. Time passed. 
 There was no added request. The building went up. And Dr. 
 Kroeze came to Mrs. McCormick with an itemized statement of 
 the cost. To it was pinned a check for $33.08. "What's this?" asked 
 the secretary. "It's the unused remains of the $39,000." Mrs. Mc- 
 Cormick, hearing the story, was amazed — and promptly gave Dr. 
 Kroeze a thousand dollars more. "There must be something," she 
 said, "that has been omitted." 
 
 An institution that held her interest through the years, reaching 
 higher levels during her Lake Forest period, was a religious agency 
 for Americanization. Its beginnings, in 1852, were in the home of 
 the pastor of the German Presbyterian Church of Dubuque, Iowa, 
 who felt a deep urge to train German young men to evangelize 
 German immigrants in the Mississippi Valley. His idea blossomed 
 into a German Theological Seminary, a college, and finally the 
 University of Dubuque. 
 
 The Reverend Cornelius M. Steffens, becoming president in 
 1906, brought its needs and his troubles to Mrs. McCormick soon 
 after. She fully appreciated the service to this country of a school 
 where many nationalities mingled, held by a common faith and 
 patriotism. Among other things, a fine gymnasium on the campus 
 attested her interest. 
 
 New causes were adopted too in these later years. Of these we 
 choose two or three of special interest. On a day in the summer of 
 191 5, when Mrs. McCormick was past eighty, a woman physician 
 visited her at Lake Forest. She was Dr. Josephine E. Young, Medi- 
 
HOUSE-IN-THE- WOODS 309 
 
 cal Adviser of Women at the University of Chicago and Medical 
 Officer of the School of Education, which Mrs. Blaine had founded. 
 And her cause was the creation of a school for the study and train- 
 ing of defective children at the Orthogenic Clinic that Rush Medi- 
 cal College had for a short time conducted. 
 
 Dr. Young, looking back in memory, saw Mrs. McCormick 
 standing on a lawn of the house that was in process of building, 
 wearing a dark dress and a dark bonnet with rather a wide brim. 
 It was Dr. Young's first impression — "a very intelligent conscien- 
 tious old lady who earlier in life must have been unusually beauti- 
 ful, and was still exceptionally fine and distinguished in appear- 
 ance/' Mrs. McCormick listened attentively to Dr. Young's presen- 
 tation. Then she turned to her daughter, Mrs. Blaine, who was at 
 hand, and said, "Would you undertake this?" Mrs. Blaine replied: 
 "Why Mother, if you would like it, I think it would be a beautiful 
 thing to do." That was weighty influence. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick soon provided enough to found and support 
 the school with psychologist, teacher, caretaker, and quarters. A 
 five-room flat on the West Side was the choice, and here Mrs. 
 McCormick more than once visited, inspecting food, dishes, cur- 
 tains and all. When changes in personnel became necessary, she 
 interviewed and consulted with much the same zeal, at this ad- 
 vanced age, with which she had handled similar problems years 
 before. 
 
 Had she lived a few years longer, she would have seen the 
 burden taken over by the University of Chicago. In that connec- 
 tion the school still goes on, though its work is directed to a differ- 
 ent type of children — to the delinquent and emotionally disturbed. 
 
 Another fresh interest of these later years— though one into 
 which she did not enter so deeply — was the Utica Normal and 
 Industrial Institute, a school for Negro boys and girls in Missis- 
 sippi. Its patient principal, William H. Holtzclaw, did not succeed 
 in getting beyond Mrs. McCormick's secretaries and attendants 
 for some years. But one day as Mrs. McCormick was reentering 
 House-in-the-Woods after a drive, she heard his name spoken — he 
 was in a room near the entrance — and called out, "Oh, Mr. 
 Holtzclaw! Let me speak to Mr. Holtzclaw!" "Of course," said he 
 in telling the story, "I got right up and raced out." There was a 
 good talk, in which she spoke much of his autobiography, The 
 
3IO NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 Black Marts Burden and asked searching questions about his work. 
 
 Mr. Holtzclaw had left Tuskegee imbued with Booker T. 
 Washington's idea of "teaching and sacrificing." He took a public 
 school down at Utica in Mississippi, where he was to be principal 
 at $32 a month and there was one other teacher, and seventy-five 
 pupils. Within a month there were 125 pupils, and when the 
 county refused to hire another teacher, Mr. Holtzclaw hired one, 
 giving up his salary. 
 
 Presently young people wanted to come from other parts of the 
 state to board. A cottage was built; Mrs. Holtzclaw, trained in 
 home economics, set up the boarding department and practical in- 
 struction in housekeeping. Step by step expansion followed. Build- 
 ings went up, scholarships were collected. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick saw Mr. Holtzclaw several times and made 
 helpful gifts. Her kindness in seeing that he always was taken to 
 the station in her car impressed him as setting her apart from the 
 average. 
 
 Probably, as always, industrial work and self-help and sacrifice 
 appealed to Mrs. McCormick. No doubt Mr. Holtzclaw's fine per- 
 sonality won her. Though she did not feature gifts to schools for 
 his race, she did give to several, enough to show a warm human 
 interest. 
 
 For nearly fifty years Mr. Holtzclaw guided the school he had 
 started. Though after his death the Institute became the Hinds 
 County Colored Agricultural High School, it is still the Utica In- 
 stitute, following the aims of its founder. 
 
 Still another new interest of the later years was the College of 
 the Ozarks at Clarksville, Arkansas. It was like a fresh start on 
 Mrs. McCormick's interest in Tusculum — a Presbyterian moun- 
 tain school in Arkansas meeting the same needs there that Tuscu- 
 lum met in Tennessee. Her gifts, made in response to an appeal 
 from an official of the Presbyterian College Board, were in the field 
 of such prosaic necessities as lifting mortgages and meeting deficits. 
 A new president, Dr. Hubert S. Lyle, had gone in at about the time 
 of Mrs. McCormick's first gift. Acquaintance by letter followed; 
 then came a morning visit to House-in-the- Woods. 
 
 Dr. Lyle had come from that part of Tennessee which Mrs. 
 McCormick knew and loved. He told her an interesting story of a 
 school, formerly Cumberland Presbyterian, which was operating 
 
HOUSE-IN-THE- WOODS 3 I I 
 
 on a self-help plan because money was very scarce in this moun- 
 tain area. He told of the sacrifices the young people made to come 
 to school, and how tuition was often in terms of cows and hogs 
 and labor of all kinds. A general building was sadly needed. Mrs. 
 McCormick made Dr. Lyle then and there a conditional pledge of 
 $25,000 to help build it. It was built and $10,000 more, promised 
 in Mrs. McCormick's last year, was paid by her heirs. 
 
 A late-life interest was the Farmers Federation, a cooperative 
 project started in 1920 by James G. K. McClure, Jr., son of the 
 President of McCormick Theological Seminary. Having gone to 
 Asheville, North Carolina for his health, he got the idea of 
 organizing cooperative markets to help the people of the moun- 
 tains, where the net yearly cash income of a family was $86, to 
 help themselves. During her last years Mrs. McCormick paid the 
 salary of a man to assist Mr. McClure in the expanding work, fur- 
 nishing for that period all the promotion expenses for the whole 
 undertaking. The Federation has been very successful in devel- 
 oping markets for poultry, eggs, farm and forest products — aiding 
 in another way the people for whom Mrs. McCormick had done so 
 much through the schools she fostered. 
 
 Though there is in Mrs. McCormick's papers no indication that 
 she took any share in business decisions in these later years it is 
 evident that she watched, kept informed. In 191 6, for instance, 
 when there was a strike in the Tractor Works, from California she 
 followed the newspaper accounts and got first-hand word from 
 her son Cyrus. She was anxious to the extent that she was ready to 
 "start home at a moment's notice." But copies of letters between 
 himself and other officials that he sent her and his own letters were 
 reassuring, and she was proud of his "policy of patiently handling 
 the men — and gaining their better natures." 
 
 The Government's suit against the International Harvester 
 Company was a distress to Mrs. McCormick for several years — 
 beginning before House-in-the-Woods became home. Suits had 
 been brought in state courts in the first few years of the Inter- 
 national's life with varying outcomes, none very serious. While a 
 Federal suit loomed, the Attorney-General conferred with the 
 Company in an effort to bring about a voluntary dissolution. But 
 all the plans suggested to the Company involved the separation of 
 McCormick and Deering interests, and this the Company would 
 
312 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 not accept. So in April, 191 2 suit was entered in the Circuit Court 
 for the District of Minnesota. The Sherman Act of 1890, under 
 which it was brought, had not often been invoked in its first 
 decade and was considered rather a dead letter. But the growing 
 power of great corporations brought a growing demand for their 
 control, particularly in the policies of Theodore Roosevelt as can- 
 didate and president. 
 
 During President Taft's administration, proceeding on the 
 Roosevelt lines, United States Steel, the American Tobacco Com- 
 pany, the Sugar trust had been challenged and judged. The Inter- 
 national Harvester's turn came next. The defendants produced 
 1 146 witnesses, and when in August, 19 14 an adverse decision was 
 rendered (two judges adverse, one favorable), there had been no 
 evidence of injustice to farmers or to consumers. The mode of 
 forming the company twelve years before was what won con- 
 demnation: the combination of fivG companies, holding 85 and 90 
 per cent of the trade in the two principal lines of harvesting ma- 
 chinery, constituted a monopoly. This was a "good trust," but a 
 trust capable of injuring and oppressing. 
 
 It was hard for Mrs. McCormick to take — first the suspense, 
 then the decision itself. A few weeks before the opinion was an- 
 nounced she wrote: "Every day has brought more work than I 
 could finish; and the expected report of the three judges not yet 
 handed in, in our law suit with the Government — a suit that we 
 might easily have avoided if we had been wary — our suspense is 
 very trying." She found comfort in an editorial of the New York 
 Times which criticised the court for going beyond the legal aspects 
 of the case into what the Times considered the economic and moral 
 aspects. "The brief of the Govt.," she wrote, "took the position 
 that, if the Harvester Co is not dissolved there will soon be a great 
 swarm of combinations following. The New York Times says the 
 Supreme Court has nothing to do with that side of the question. — 
 They have only the legal side to act upon." Then Mrs. McCormick 
 added: "If we had made an outright purchase of the Deering, and 
 then proceeded about the business in hand — without any combine, 
 we would have gone on, scot free — . . . without molestation." 
 But at the time, 1897, she had not been enthusiastic about the pro- 
 posed purchase. 
 
HOUSE-IN-THE- WOODS 3 I 3 
 
 An appeal was taken by the International Harvester Company to 
 the United States Supreme Court, two hearings were held, and a 
 third was scheduled when the First World War intervened. The 
 Government asked a postponement of all such cases, the Inter- 
 national consented, and in October, 1918k withdrew its appeal and 
 proceeded under the ruling of the Circuit Court. Though it se- 
 cured some modification, this involved offering for sale lines of 
 three of its companies and two of its plants and limiting its repre- 
 sentation in each community to one agent. 
 
 But the United States Government was not satisfied with the 
 results and in the month of Mrs. McCormick's death it asked the 
 District Court for further relief. This was denied. The United 
 States then appealed to the Supreme Court. The final outcome in 
 1927 was a dismissal of the appeal, a "unanimous opinion holding 
 that competitive conditions existed in the harvesting machine in- 
 dustry.'' 
 
 So for Mrs. McCormick the strain ended in 191 8; for about six 
 years she thought of the International Harvester Company as "be- 
 leaguered," and in 1920 she wrote of "the pressure of injustice 
 such as we have suffered from the Government of the United 
 States through the past years." 
 
 The experience of voting came to Mrs. McCormick in these late 
 years. By grace of the advanced position of Illinois it came to her 
 earlier than to a majority of her countrywomen. For in 191 3 
 Illinois women were empowered to vote for presidential electors 
 and most other officers. Mrs. McCormick registered. Her first vote 
 in a primary for mayor went for William Hale Thompson, "who," 
 she said, "opposes any idea of Tammany in Chicago." This was in 
 191 5. Some of "Big Bill the Builder's" other ideas must have be- 
 come clear to her later, for, though there is no record as to whom 
 she voted for when Thompson ran in 19 19, by 1923 she definitely 
 was not supporting him. She was on record for William Dever, a 
 Democratic reform candidate, who won. 
 
 On the national level she did not waver. Though she had no vote 
 in 191 2, she made a sizable contribution to Woodrow Wilson's 
 campaign fund, and in 191 6 she contributed, voted, and sought to 
 win votes for him. In later years, when Wilson was no longer ac- 
 tive, she still contributed to the Democratic National Committee, 
 
314 NETTIE FOWLER MCCORMICK 
 
 In 1920 the international issue, to which her daughter Mrs. Blaine 
 gave herself ardently, no doubt controlled, and presumedly she 
 voted for Cox and the League of Nations. 
 
 She contributed liberally to the campaign of Charles E. Merriam, 
 Republican reform candidate for mayor in 191 1, whom Harrison 
 defeated. And Mary McDowell had her support in a successful 
 campaign for County Commissioner in 19 14. Evidently she was not 
 bound to a party, though her husband, whose course in general 
 she followed, was a stout Democrat. 
 
 Her attitude toward woman suffrage had been rather neutral. 
 Definitely not a suffragist, she was definitely not opposed. When 
 in 19 1 6 a suffrage meeting and parade took place in Chicago and 
 Harriet McCormick gave a dinner for about a hundred suffrage 
 leaders in her home, Mrs. McCormick was a guest — and an ad- 
 miring one. Dr. Anna Howard Shaw, Mrs. Carrie Chapman Catt, 
 Mrs. Joseph T. Bowen, and others spoke. "The women were of a 
 fine class, serious-minded, educated, refined, superior, I think, in 
 understanding to the same number in the fashionable circles of this 
 country." 
 
 Mrs. McCormick's last Christmas holidays — 1922 — had a lovely 
 touch in that the special guests of this lady of nearly eighty-eight 
 were three young men. They were students: William and Wallace 
 McClenahan, sons of the president of Cairo University, in whom 
 she had long been interested, and Luther Wright Mott, grandson 
 of the Luther Wrights of Oswego, New York, friends of Mrs. 
 McCormick's Clayton family. She was sharing in the education of 
 these boys and keeping in close, warm-hearted touch with their 
 progress. She liked to entertain young people. Once she wrote: 
 "The young are not hard to entertain! We meet on very pleasant 
 ground." So she enjoyed these young men. "Our Christmas was 
 quite exciting," she reported. "We feel a little lonesome now." 
 
 When in February, under doctors' orders, she left Chicago for 
 California, she wrote of her regret at putting more miles between 
 herself and her young friends and added: "We will keep the mails 
 heavily loaded with news going to you from the Pacific." 
 
 In June Mrs. McCormick was again in Lake Forest. Then, late 
 in the month, in a time of poor weather, she took a cold which 
 would not yield. Something like a mild pneumonia developed. 
 Her doctor came, watched, other physicians were called. Sons and 
 
HOUSE-IN-THE- WOODS 3 I 5 
 
 daughter stayed close at hand. The nurse-companion who had 
 been with her was summoned from her home in Ohio. 
 
 Early in the morning of July 5 morphine brought relief from 
 great restlessness. She quieted and apparently slept. Suddenly she 
 looked up as the nurse was counting her pulse, took firm hold of 
 her hand and said three times, "How lovely!" She slept again and 
 did not waken. As Anita, Cyrus, Harold stood beside her bed, 
 about eleven o'clock in the morning without pain or struggle her 
 life passed. 
 
 The End 
 
NOTE ON SOURCES 
 
 ince the manuscripts on which this biography is based are not 
 now, as it goes to press, so located as to be readily accessible, de- 
 tailed references are not given. Such references, however, will be 
 filed with a copy of the manuscript, in connection with Mrs. Mc- 
 Cormick's papers. 
 
 The references include not only manuscripts but books and, of 
 more significance, all manner of unbound printed matter associated 
 with Mrs. McCormick's interests and forming part of her papers. 
 It is thought inadvisable to separate the various types of sources by 
 listing here the books and such other printed matter as a patient 
 researcher might find outside of Mrs. McCormick's collection. 
 
 Mrs. McCormick's papers have recently been lodged in the Mc- 
 Cormick Collection of the State Historical Society of Wisconsin, 
 with the papers of her husband. 
 
 316 
 
INDEX 
 
 Academie des Sciences de PInstitut de 
 
 France, 128 
 Adams, Edward S., 174 
 Adams, Mary Caroline, companion on 
 
 trip, 78, 81 
 Ahner, Henry, 45 
 Aix-la-Chapelle, 122 
 Alexander, J. R., 277 
 Allahabad Agricultural Institute (India), 
 
 274-275 
 Allanstand (N.C.), 242, 247 
 Altgeld, Governor Peter (111.), 150 
 Alum Springs (Rockbridge, Va.), 62, 
 
 117 
 American Board of Commissioners of 
 
 Foreign Missions, 108 
 American Harvester Company, organi- 
 zation and dissolution, 108, 156, 180- 
 182. See also International Harvester 
 Company and McCormick Harvesting 
 Machine Company 
 Anarchists, 148-150 
 Angel, Harriet, schoolmate, 24 
 Arbeiter-Zeitung, 150 
 Armour, Philip D., 147 
 Arnold, Isaac N., neighbor, 71 
 Ashery ("framed potash"), 4 
 Assiut College (Assiut, Egypt), 276-277 
 Atlantic Telegraph cable, 61 
 Auburn (N.Y.), strike at twine mill, 
 
 234-235 
 Austin, George, hired man, 18 
 
 Averill, , 148, 235 
 
 Avon Springs (N.Y.), summer at, 76, 
 
 Balch, Hezekiah, 163 
 
 Bar Harbor (Me.), Blaines' honeymoon 
 
 at, 176 
 Barlow, S. L. M., 87 
 Barr, Norman B., 196 
 
 Bates, Dr. , 19 
 
 Beaver, Gilbert, 287 
 Bedford Springs (Pa.), in 
 Bellevue Hotel (Bellevue, Pa.), 146 
 
 Benjamin, Judah P., 125 
 
 Bennett, James Gordon, founder and 
 publisher of New York Herald, 87 
 
 Bentley, Cyrus, 223, 231 
 
 Bergen, Dr. Paul D., 272 
 
 Bernhardt, Sarah, 127 
 
 Bible Institute (Moody), 168, 169, 170 
 
 Binder, exhibited on continent, 122 
 
 Black, Attorney General Jeremiah, 59 
 
 Black River, 3 
 
 Black River Conference (Methodist), 
 28 
 
 Blaine, Anita McCormick (Mrs. Em- 
 mons), 194; founds Chicago Institute, 
 200; surprise birthday party for Mrs. 
 McCormick by, 297-299; House-in- 
 the-Woods planned by, 300; death of 
 son and birth of granddaughter, 303; 
 at mother's deathbed, 315. See also 
 McCormick, Anita 
 
 Blaine, Alice (Mrs. Coppinger), 184 fn. 
 
 Blaine, Anne (great granddaughter), 
 303-304 
 
 Blaine, Emmons (son-in-law), engage- 
 ment and marriage to Anita, 174- 
 176; death, 176, 183, 184 fn.; shared in 
 consolidation negotiations, 181 
 
 Blaine, Emmons (grandson), 194; birth, 
 180; christening, 184-185; education 
 and choice of career, 301-302; marries 
 Eleanor Gooding, 302; war service, 
 illness and death, 303 
 
 Blaine, James G., 174, 175; dinner at 
 Washington home of, 179; campaign 
 for presidential nomination, 183; 
 christening at summer home of, 184- 
 
 Blaine, McCormick (later Emmons) . See 
 
 Blaine, Emmons (grandson) 
 Blaine, Walker, 176, 184 fn. 
 Blair, Reverend Samuel A., 197 
 Blair, Mrs. William, 109, no 
 Blanton, Dr. L. H., 241 
 Bonaparte, Joseph, 13 
 Bostater, Elizabeth, 307 
 Bowen, Mrs. Joseph T., 314 
 
 319 
 
320 INDEX 
 
 Briggs, Dr. Charles A., heresy trial of, 
 
 205-207 
 Brockenbrough, Judge John W., 117 
 Brockman, Fletcher S., 194-195, 289-290 
 Brown, A. Page, architect, 167 
 Brown, Aaron V., 64 
 Brown, Henry R., 256 
 Brown, Jacob, founder of Brownville, 5 
 Browning, John A., tutor, 178 
 Browning School (N.Y.), Harold and 
 
 Stanley at, 178-179 
 Brown's Hotel (later Metropolitan, 
 
 Washington, D.C.), McCormicks at, 
 
 57, $h 73 
 Brown-Sequard, Dr. C. E., 124 
 Brownville (N.Y.), 3, 4, 5, 7 
 Bryan, Dr. W. S. Plumer, 210 
 Buchanan, President James, 56, 59 
 Buffum, Laura, 249 
 Burke, Edmund, patent commissioner, 
 
 59 
 Butler, E. K., on consolidation, 180, 182; 
 general manager of Company, 181 
 
 Cabanel portraits, 72, 130 
 
 Canton Christian College (Canton, 
 
 China), 270-271 
 Cape Vincent (N.Y.), Esselstyns settle 
 
 in, 13, 14 
 Carlson, Augusta, 307 
 Carse, Mrs. Matilda B., 195 
 Carter, George Robert, 6 
 Catfish Falls (N.Y.), early name of 
 
 Depauville, 4 
 Catt, Carrie Chapman, 314 
 Century of the Reaper, The, 149, 181- 
 
 182 
 Chalmers, Dr. Thomas, 236, 279 
 Chalmers Place, 201, 202-203 
 Chalons-sur-Marne, Emperor's farm at, 
 
 9i 
 Champ de Mars, Exposition display at, 
 
 90 
 
 Chapman, , 99-100 
 
 Chapman, Anna, 189, 190 
 Chaumont, 3 
 
 Chesebrough, T. U., 250-251 
 Chevalier, M. , French political 
 
 economist, 91 
 Chicago, Illinois, in 18 $6, 43; Cyrus 
 
 McCormick's view of, 83; and passim 
 Chicago Bible Society, 171 
 Chicago Daily Times, 73 
 Chicago Evangelization Society, 168-170 
 Chicago Fire, 96-97 
 Chicago Herald, 73 
 
 Chicago Institute, Anita Blaine founds, 
 200 
 
 Chicago Relief and Aid Society, 97-98 
 
 Chicago riot, 150 
 
 China, mission aid to, 268-273 
 
 Chung Chi College (Hongkong), 269 
 
 Cimarron (New Mexico), Stanley's 
 ranch at, 200 
 
 Civil War, 83, 84 
 
 Clarke, Colonel and Mrs. , 195 
 
 Claverack (later in Columbia County), 
 11-12 
 
 Clayton (French Creek, N.Y.), grand- 
 parents' home, 3, 10, 19, 21, 22, 27, 28, 
 34, 41, 43-44; Lily of the Valley, 29 
 
 Clayton Literary Association, 25 
 
 Clayton Lodge, 131, 144, 176 
 
 Clemens, Harold, 251-252 
 
 Clemens, William C., 251 
 
 Coile, Dr. , 256 
 
 Colby, Howard and Everett, 178 
 
 Colleges and Academies, Board of Aid 
 for, 158 
 
 Colton, , 287 
 
 Columbia College (N.Y.), 85 
 
 Columbia Cordage Company, 234 
 
 Conger, Colonel A. L., 1 80-1 81 
 
 Connecticut, Spicers from, 6 
 
 Consolidation, companies comprising, 
 224-225; painful process of, 231-232. 
 See also International Harvester 
 Company 
 
 Contrexeville (France), Mrs. McCor- 
 mick takes "cure" at, 189-190 
 
 Cook, Dr. Joseph W., 265 
 
 Copeland, C. C., legal adviser, 167 
 
 Corbin's Corners (near Depauville), 
 Clarissa Fowler's grave, 20 
 
 Corcoran picture gallery, 58 
 
 Cort, Dr. and Mrs. Edwin C, 264 
 
 Cory, Harlan Page, 243-244 
 
 Cory School (Flag Pond, Tenn.), aid 
 to, 246 
 
 Cothran, Judge J. S., 165 
 
 Craig, Willis G., professor at Theologi- 
 cal Seminary, 106, 162, 204, 208-209 
 
 Craig Hall (Tusculum), 243 
 
 Cromwell, William Nelson, 224 
 
 Croton Reservoir, 85 
 
 Crowe, John Finley, grammar school, 67 
 
 Crystal Palace (Sydenham Hill), Ex- 
 position at, 79 
 
 Cudell and Blumenthal, Chicago archi- 
 tects, 118 
 
 Daguerrian gallery, 58 
 
INDEX 
 
 321 
 
 Daily Chicago Times, 74 
 
 Damrosch, Walter, 177 
 
 Davis, Elijah, 7 
 
 Davis, Nancy Spicer, Clarissa Fowler's 
 mother, 4, 17, 18 
 
 Davis grandparents, 17, 18 
 
 Day, George M., 291 
 
 Deering, William, 182; rivalry with 
 McCormick at Universal Exposition, 
 219-221; consolidation conference 
 with, 222 
 
 Deering Harvester Company, 224 
 
 Deerings, consolidation considered with, 
 109; negotiations with McCormicks, 
 221-223; dissatisfaction with McCor- 
 mick management, 231 
 
 Democratic party, 73; Cyrus McCor- 
 mick's work in, 76 
 
 Dempster, John, 35 
 
 Depauville (N.Y.), 14; village of her 
 girlhood, 3, 4; Fowlers in, 10-11; with 
 mother and brother at, 17-18 
 
 Dever, William, 313 
 
 DeWitt, Dr. John, 206 
 
 DeWolf, Cecilia (Telie), neighbor and 
 friend, 71 
 
 Dexter, Katharine, 229-230. See also 
 McCormick, Katharine Dexter (Mrs. 
 Stanley) 
 
 Dexter, Mr. and Mrs. Wirt, 229 
 
 Dickerson, Edward N., 57 
 
 Doak, Reverend Samuel, 162, 251, 255 
 
 Dodge, Grace, 291 
 
 Dorland-Bell School, 253 
 
 Dorland Institute (Hot Springs, N.C.), 
 252-253 
 
 Dorn Gold Mine, 166-167 
 
 Douglas, Mr. and Mrs. Stephen, 64 
 
 Dryer, Emma, 99; Bible class, 107; direc- 
 tor of Bible Work, 151, 169 
 
 Dubuque, University of, 308 
 
 Dwight School, aid to, 246 
 
 Eddy, Sherwood, 288-289, 20I > 2 93 
 Edinburgh (Saratoga County, N.Y.), 
 
 early years of Fowlers, 12 
 Edmunds, Dr. C. K., 270 
 Egypt, visit to missions in, 276-277 
 Elizabeth Hall, at Stanely McCormick 
 
 School, 248-249 
 England, visit to, 78-80 
 Erskine, Cecilia DeWolf, reminiscences, 
 
 71-72 
 Esselstyn, John Brodhead, 13, 14 
 Esselstyn, Dr. Lewis F., 266 
 Esselstyn, Maria (grandmother), early 
 
 training, 12; marriage to Anson 
 Fowler, 12-13 
 
 Esselstyn, Maria Van Alstyne (great 
 grandmother), 12 
 
 Esselstyn, Major Richard (great grand- 
 father), 12 
 
 Esselstyn, Richard Morris, 13, 14 
 
 Esselstyn family tradition, 11-12. See 
 also Yesselsteyn 
 
 Eugenie, Empress, 81, 90 
 
 Everett, Edward, 58 
 
 Exposition of 1878, 130 
 
 Falley Seminary (Fulton, N.Y.), stu- 
 dent at, 27, 28; school papers, 29 
 Farmers Federation, 311 
 Farwell, Mrs. John V., no 
 Felt, John, early teacher, 24 
 Fenton's Hotel, London, 78, 80 
 Field, Cyrus, first Atlantic cable by, 87 
 Field, Marshall, 150; friendship with, 
 
 198 
 Field Museum, gift to, 192 
 
 Fielden, , anarchist, 151 
 
 Fifth Avenue Hotel (N.Y.C.), residence 
 
 at, 84, 94 
 Fifth Avenue house, 84-85, in, 128; 
 
 visitors, 86-87 
 Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church, 88 
 Finney, Charles Grandison, 7 
 Fish, John (ancestor), 6 
 Fish, Laura, 6 
 
 Fish, Nancy (Mrs. Silas Spicer, grand- 
 mother), 6 
 Flag Pond (Tenn.), 246, 247-248 
 Fleming, Clara Fowler, illness and death, 
 
 2 3° 
 Fleming, Marjorie, married to Wilton 
 
 Lloyd-Smith, 303 
 
 Floyd, Mrs. , 59 
 
 Forsyth, Mrs. Henry, no 
 
 Fourth Presbyterian Church (Chicago), 
 106, 114 
 
 Fowler, Anson (brother), 4, 10 
 
 Fowler, Anson (grandfather), 4, 5, 17, 
 20-21, 62; left Connecticut for New 
 York State, n; married Maria Essel- 
 steyn, 12-13; moved to Jefferson 
 County, 13; death, 30 
 
 Fowler, Caroline (cousin), 21, 27 
 
 Fowler, Clara (niece), daughter of 
 Eldridge Fowler, 155 
 
 Fowler, Clarissa (mother), 3, 11, 62, 260; 
 loss of first born, 10; first years of 
 marriage and births of Nancy and 
 Eldridge, 10, 14; death of husband, 14; 
 
322 
 
 INDEX 
 
 a business woman, 17; memories of, 
 18-20; hospitality, 18-19; death, 19-20 
 
 Fowler, Delia (cousin), 21, 37, 38 
 
 Fowler, Eldridge (brother), 4, 14, 63, 
 225; birth, 10; general store at Perch 
 River, 23; Uncle Richard's lumber- 
 ing camp, 34; groomsman at Nettie's 
 wedding, 50; marriage to Mary- 
 Skinner and business partnership, 55; 
 with A4cCormicks in Chicago, 72-73; 
 death of son Melzar, 129; adviser to 
 sister, 138, 155-156; vice president of 
 McCormick Harvesting Machine 
 Company, 154, 155; death of wife and 
 marriage to Kate Grosvenor, 155; trip 
 abroad with sister and nephew, 179- 
 180; shared in consolidation negotia- 
 tions, 181; director of International 
 Harvester Company, 227; marries 
 Margaret Brewer, 229; illness and 
 death, 230 
 
 Fowler, Jane (aunt), 10, 62 
 
 Fowler, John (ancestor), n 
 
 Fowler, John (uncle), 5, 17, 21 
 
 Fowler, Kate Grosvenor (Mrs. El- 
 dridge), second wife, 155 
 
 Fowler, Kate (niece), 155, 229; married 
 to Van Santvoord Merle-Smith, 303 
 
 Fowler, Maria (grandmother), 13, 21, 49, 
 260, 266; married to Anson Fowler, 
 12-13; qualities, 21-22; death, 62-64 
 
 Fowler, Margaret Brewer (Mrs. El- 
 dridge), third wife, 229, 277 
 
 Fowler, Mary Skinner (Mrs. Eldridge), 
 72-73, 129; marriage, 55; death, 155 
 
 Fowler, Melzar (father), early business 
 enterprises, 4-5; courtship and mar- 
 riage, 6, 9, 10; outstanding citizen of 
 Brownville, 10, 11; birth, 12-13; death, 
 14-15; fine reputation, 15-16 
 
 Fowler, Melzar (nephew), son of El- 
 dridge and Mary Fowler, 73; death, 
 
 129, 155 
 
 Fowler, Milo (cousin), 21 
 
 Fowler, Nancy Maria (Nettie), 3, 4, 
 14; birth, 10; early years in Depau- 
 ville, 17-18; mother's death and life 
 with grandparents, 19-20, 22-23; active 
 member of Methodist Church, 23-24; 
 at Eldridge Merick's school, 24-26; 
 girlhood writings, 25; at Falley Semi- 
 nary, 27; editing and contributions to 
 school paper, 29; an editor of Clay- 
 ton's Lily of the Valley, 29; teaching 
 in yellow schoolhouse, 30; summer in 
 Sandusky, 30; at Troy Female Semi- 
 
 nary, 31-32; at Genesee Wesleyan 
 Seminary and Genesee College, 35- 
 40; with Mrs. Lyon in Chicago, 42- 
 43; joined North Presbyterian 
 Church, 43; courtship with Cyrus 
 Hall McCormick, 45-48; wedding 
 plans and marriage, 50-52. See also 
 McCormick, Nettie Fowler 
 Fowler, Richard (uncle), 23, 30, 34 
 Fowler, William, the Magistrate (first 
 
 American ancestor), 11 
 Fowler Hall, gift to Seminary, 202 
 Fox, George, 287 
 French Creek Bay (N.Y.), 22 
 Fulton (N.Y.), Falley Seminary, 27 
 
 Gage, Lyman J., 150 
 
 Gage, Otis S., 125 
 
 Galway (N.Y.), Fowlers at, 13 
 
 Gary, Judge Joseph E., 150 
 
 General Assembly of the Presbyterian 
 Church, 66, 105; Briggs heresy trial, 
 206; proposed increase in power over 
 seminaries, 208-209 
 
 General Assembly's Board of Foreign 
 Missions of the Presbyterian Church, 
 109 
 
 Genesee College, 36, 40 
 
 Genesee Junior College, 40 
 
 Genesee Wesleyan Seminary (now 
 Syracuse University), 35-38, 40, 179 
 
 Geneva (Switzerland), Stanley's wed- 
 ding, 229-230 
 
 Glenwood Manual Training School, 196 
 
 Glessner, J. J., 181 
 
 Gooding, Eleanor, marries Emmons 
 Blaine (grandson), 302 
 
 Goodrich, Frances L., 242, 246 
 
 Gordon, James F. and John H., I44-H5 
 
 Gordon Case, 144-145 
 
 Gorton, Truman B., secretary to Mrs. 
 McCormick, 142, 249, 306, 307 
 
 Gounod, Charles Francois, 1 27 
 
 Grand Central Station (N.Y.C.), 85 
 
 Grand Hotel (Paris), stay at, 90 
 
 Grand Pacific Hotel (Chicago), 
 D wight L. Moody at, 168 
 
 Gray, Charles Oliver, 256-257 
 
 Gray, Dr. William C, editor of In- 
 terior, 103-104, 141; at Island Lake 
 Camp, 185-186; and Briggs heresy 
 trial, 205-207; on General Assembly 
 control of seminaries, 208 
 
 Greeley, Horace, 83, 87, 102, 270 
 
 Greeneville and Tusculum College, 163- 
 
 164. See also Tusculum College 
 
INDEX 
 
 3 2 3 
 
 Greenwood and Augusta Railroad, 167 
 Grenfell, Sir Wilfred, 277-278, 301 
 Grenfell, Wilfred, School, aid to, 278 
 Groves, J. M., 172 
 
 Guilford (N.Y.), Fowler family resi- 
 dence, 11 
 Gurley, Dr. Phineas, 58 
 Gymnasium, gift to Seminary, 202 
 
 Hall, Dr. John, 89, 207 
 
 Hall, Thomas C, 207 
 
 Halsey, Dr. LeRoy J., History of the 
 Seminary , 68 
 
 Hammond, Harriet Bradley, marriage 
 to Cyrus, Jr., in California, 173. See 
 also McCormick, Harriet B. (Mrs. 
 Cyrus) 
 
 Hammond, Harriot M., governess to 
 little boys, 115; trip abroad with 
 children, 121 
 
 Hanna, William J., 153 
 
 Hannah, helper in house of grand- 
 parents, 23, 30 
 
 Hanover College, 67 
 
 Hansen, William, 306 
 
 Happer, Dr. Andrew P., 270 
 
 Hard, Helen (Mrs. Potts), 179; friend- 
 ship formed at Genesee Wesleyan, 
 38-39, 48 
 
 Harding, George, 57 
 
 Harris, Dr. , 184 
 
 Harrison, David Blaine (great-great- 
 grandson), 304 
 
 Harrison, Mrs. Gilbert A. (grand- 
 daughter Anne Blaine), 304 
 
 Harrison, James Louis (great-great- 
 grandson), 304 
 
 Harrison, Mayor (Chicago), 150; as- 
 sassination, 188 
 
 Harrison, President Benjamin, 179 
 
 Harvey, Reverend and Mrs. William, 
 276 
 
 Hastings College, 159-160 
 
 Haymarket Riot, 148 
 
 Haynes, Dr. Landon Carter, 254, 256 
 
 Healy, G. P. A., portrait painter, 72 
 
 Heidelberg, Castle, 82 
 
 Heresy trial, of Dr. Briggs, 205-207 
 
 Herter, , 118 
 
 Hibbard, Carlisle V., 290 
 
 Higginbottom, Dr. Sam, 273-275 
 
 Hill, Dr. Judson S., 244-245 
 
 Hoge, Mrs. A. H., no 
 
 Holt, Mrs. Joseph, 59 
 
 Holtzclaw, William H., The Black 
 Man's Burden, 309-310 
 
 Home Industrial School (Asheville, 
 
 N.C.), 241-242 
 Horton, Lillias, 267 
 Hosmer, Harriet, 58 
 Hot Springs (Arkansas), 116 
 Hot Springs (Va.), 116 
 House, Herbert E., 270 
 Huron College, 158 
 Hutchinson, William T., biographer of 
 
 Cyrus Hall McCormick, 74, 153 
 Hygeia House (Old Point Comfort, 
 
 Va.), 60 
 
 India, aid to agricultural missions, 273- 
 276 
 
 Indiana Theological Seminary, 67 
 
 Ingerson, Cordelia, school teacher, 24 
 
 Interior, 103, 151, 185; on Briggs heresy 
 trial, 205-207 
 
 International Harvester Company, viii, 
 139, 221, 226, 227; painful process of 
 consolidation, 231-232; pride in, 233- 
 234; strike at Auburn, N.Y., 234-235; 
 Government suit against, 31 1-3 13. See 
 also American Harvester Company 
 and McCormick Harvesting Machine 
 Company 
 
 International Exhibition of Arts and 
 Manufactures (London), 78, 79 
 
 Island Lake Camp, visit at, 185-186 
 
 Jackson, Dr. James C, Health Resort 
 
 (Dansville, N.Y.), "Our Home on the 
 
 Hillside," in, 112 
 Jackson, Leroy F., 258 
 Jackson Collegiate Institute (Jackson, 
 
 Ky.), 240 
 Jacobs, Dr. William Plumer, 164 
 Jamestown College, 159; gift of Taber 
 
 Hall to, 308 
 Jefferson County (N.Y.), 3; Fowlers in, 
 
 Jewett, , McCormick lawyer, 99 
 
 Johnson, President Andrew, 91 
 
 Johnson, Dr. Herrick, 176, 206; pro- 
 fessor at Presbyterian Theological 
 Seminary, 106; president of Board of 
 Aid, 158 
 
 Johnson, Reverdy, 57 
 
 Jordan, Dr. Samuel M., 262-263, 265-266 
 
 Judd, Dr. Gerrit, 6 
 
 Judd, Lawrence McCully, 6 
 
 Keep, Mrs. Albert, no 
 Kemble, Fanny, 64 
 King, Henry, 145 
 
superintendent of 
 
 3*4 
 
 King, Mr. 
 
 Bible Class in Utica, 8 
 Knights of Labor, 146, 149 
 Korea, aid to missions, 266-268 
 Kroeze, Dr. Barend H., 308 
 
 Laflin, Mrs. G. H., 109 
 Lake Forest (111), home of Mrs. Mc- 
 Cormick, 300-315; her death at, 314- 
 
 Lake St. Clair (Mich.), 5 
 
 Lane, Harriet, 56, 59, 60 
 
 Lee, General George Washington Cus- 
 
 tis, 117 
 Lee, General Robert E., 158 
 Lees, Mrs. S. P., 241 
 Lees, S. P., Collegiate Institute, 248; 
 
 aid to, 241, 242 
 
 Legge, Mr. , 235 
 
 Legion of Honor, rank of officer, 
 
 awarded to Cyrus McCormick, 123 
 Le Ray, James Donatius, 13 
 Lexington (Va.), 117 
 Lilley, General Robert D., 117 
 Lima (Ohio), 35-38 
 Lincoln, President Abraham, 57, 83; 
 
 inauguration, 73 
 Linn, Dorothy, married to grandson 
 
 Cyrus, 302 
 Lloyd-Smith, Wilton, married to Mar- 
 
 jorie Fleming (great-niece), 303 
 Lord, Dr. Willis L., 68, 105 
 Luce, Henry Robinson, 215-216 
 Luce, Henry Winters, 271 
 Lyle, Dr. Hubert S., 310-31 1 
 Lyon, Isaac, visit to Clayton, 46; plans 
 
 for Nettie's wedding, 49-50 
 Lyon, Jeannie (cousin), 46 
 Lyon, Maria Merick (Mrs. Isaac), 31, 
 
 42 
 
 McAfee, Cleland B., 205 
 
 McAfee, John A., 160 
 
 McAfee, Mildred (Mrs. Douglas Hor- 
 ton), 161 
 
 McClellan, , 84 
 
 McClenahan, Dr. R. S., 277 
 
 McClenahan, William and Wallace, 314 
 
 McClure, Dr. James Gore King, 21 1- 
 212, 216; The Story of the Life and 
 Work of the Presbyterian Theolog- 
 ical Seminary, Chicago, 211 fn. 
 
 McClure, James G. K., Jr., 311 
 
 McConaughy, David, 284 
 
 McCormick, Alice (daughter), birth 
 and death, 93-94 
 
 INDEX 
 
 McCormick, Anita Eugenie (daughter), 
 92, 114; birth 85-86; French pension 
 school, 124-125; married to Emmons 
 Blaine, 173. See also Blaine, Anita 
 McCormick (Mrs. Emmons) 
 
 McCormick, Cyrus (grandson), birth, 
 180; gift to Tusculum College, 254; 
 education and participation in family 
 business, 301; marries Dorothy Linn, 
 302; war service, 303 
 
 McCormick, Cyrus Hall (husband), 
 vii, viii, 44; courtship with Nettie 
 Fowler, 45-47; wedding preparations 
 and marriage, 48-52; Manny case, 57; 
 at Nettie's grandmother's bedside, 
 63; Washington intervals, 63, 72-73; 
 help in establishing Theological Sem- 
 inary in Chicago, 66-67; Chicago 
 home on Dearborn Street, 70-72, 73- 
 76; publishing and political activities, 
 73-76, 82, 102, 103; position on 
 slavery issue and secession, 74-75; 
 summer at Newport and at Avon 
 Springs, 76; lost baggage case, 76-77; 
 business trips to England and Conti- 
 nent, 78-81, 89-91; reaper awards and 
 work on improvements, 80; in New 
 York City at No. 40 Fifth Avenue, 
 83-85; Paris Exposition awards, 89-92; 
 Chevalier of the Legion of Honor, 91, 
 92; presented to Emperor and Em- 
 press, 93; return to New York and 
 vacation at Richfield Springs, 93-94; 
 Chicago fire and work of rebuilding 
 business, 96, 98, 101; temporary 
 homes after fire, 101, 114; at Demo- 
 cratic National Convention (Balti- 
 more), 102; publishing Interior, 
 103-104; aid to Presbyterian Theo- 
 logical Seminary of the North West, 
 104-106; gift to Chicago Y.M.C.A., 
 107; strong friendship with D wight 
 L. Moody, 107; health resorts and 
 water cures, 111-112, 131; endowed 
 chair at Washington and Lee Univer- 
 sity, 117; building and furnishing 
 Rush Street home (Chicago), 118, 
 127, 129-130; business abroad and 
 1878 Paris exhibition and awards, 
 120-123; officer of Legion of Honor, 
 123; Waite-Burnell case, 125, 127; 
 difficulties with Leander, 126, 129, 
 151-152; elected as correspondent of 
 the Academie des Sciences de l'ln- 
 stitut de France, 128; president of 
 McCormick Harvesting Machine 
 Company, 129; Cabanel portrait, 130; 
 
at Richfield Springs, 131; final illness, 
 132; temperament of, 136; estate of, 
 138-139 
 
 McCormick, Cyrus H., Professorship 
 of Theology, 69, 204 
 
 McCormick, Cyrus Hall (Rice), Jr. 
 (son), 80, 92, 114, 194; birth and bap- 
 tism, 6$, 70; recollections of Chi- 
 cago Fire, 96-97; at public school, 
 116, 119; problem of college or busi- 
 ness, 119, 120, 122; trip abroad, 119- 
 122; father's secretary and assistant, 
 137; responsibilities of the business, 
 144-156; marriage to Harriet Bradley 
 Hammond in California, 173-174; 
 purchase of Leander's interests, 177; 
 president of American Harvester 
 Company, 181; The Century of the 
 Reaper, 181-182, 182 fn.; efforts in 
 Deering consolidation negotiations, 
 199, 222; at dedication of Virginia 
 Library, 201; Special Director of 
 Seminary, 203-204; seeks advice on 
 merger, 222; president of Interna- 
 tional Harvester Company, 227; death 
 of daughter Elizabeth, 228-229; in- 
 terest in Y.M.C.A., 283; at deathbed 
 of mother, 315 
 
 McCormick, Edith Rockefeller (Mrs. 
 Harold), 188-191, 228, 305; son John 
 Rockefeller born, 194; deaths of John 
 and Editha, 228; residence abroad, 
 304; divorce, 305 
 
 McCormick, Editha (granddaughter), 
 death, 228 
 
 McCormick, Elizabeth (granddaugh- 
 ter), 194; death, 228-229 
 
 McCormick, Elizabeth, Dormitory (Al- 
 lahabad Agricultural Institute), 274 
 
 McCormick, Fowler (grandson), fol- 
 lows in father's steps, 302; ambulance 
 driver in war, 303 
 
 McCormick, Ganna Walska (Mrs. 
 Harold), second wife, 305 
 
 McCormick, Gordon (grandson), 194; 
 gift to Tusculum, 254; architectural 
 career, 302; war service, 303 
 
 McCormick, Harriet Bradley (Mrs. 
 Cyrus, Jr.), marriage, 173-174; death 
 of daughter Elizabeth, 228-229; death, 
 304; dinner for suffrage leaders, 314 
 
 McCormick, Harold (son), 94, 114; 
 birth, 101; in Browning School, 178- 
 179; tennis tournaments, 179; trip 
 abroad, 179-180; at Princeton, 183; 
 engagement to Edith Rockefeller, 
 188-189; graduation from Princeton, 
 
 INDEX 325 
 
 189; marriage to Edith Rockefeller, 
 190-191; son John Rockefeller born, 
 194; in the business, 194, 200; vice 
 president of International Harvester 
 Company, 227; death of son John 
 and daughter Editha, 228; on con- 
 solidation difficulties, 231; residence 
 abroad, 304; divorce from Edith and 
 marriage to Ganna Walska, 305; at 
 deathbed of mother, 315 
 
 McCormick, Harold, Academy (Eliza- 
 bethton, Tenn.), 245; administra- 
 tion and discontinuance, 251 
 
 McCormick, Henrietta Laura, 152 
 
 McCormick, John Rockefeller (grand- 
 son), birth, 194; death, 228 
 McCormick, Katharine Dexter (Mrs. 
 Stanley), 233 
 
 McCormick, Leander J., brother of 
 Cyrus Hall McCormick, 44; with 
 family in England, 78; long-standing 
 difficulties with his brother, 126, 129, 
 1 51-152; purchase of his interest, 177 
 
 McCormick, Mrs. Leander, 45, 80 
 
 McCormick, Mary Virginia (daugh- 
 ter), 80-81, 92, 114, 116, 130; birth, 
 73; residence in New York, 178; in 
 California, 198-199; winter residences, 
 239-240 
 
 McCormick, Mathilde (granddaugh- 
 ter), married to Max Oser, 302 
 
 McCormick, Muriel (granddaughter), 
 80, 304-305 
 
 McCormick, Nettie, 92. See also Mc- 
 Cormick, Anita Eugenie (daughter) 
 
 McCormick, Nettie, Scholarship 
 (Thornwell Orphanage), 165 
 
 McCormick, Nettie Fowler (Mrs. 
 Cyrus Hall McCormick), vii-ix; mar- 
 riage to Cyrus H. McCormick, 50-52; 
 double honeymoon with Mr. and 
 Mrs. Eldridge Fowler, 55-56; social 
 life in Washington and health tours, 
 56-65; last visit to grandmother 
 Fowler, 62-63; birth of Cyrus 
 Hall ("the young Reaper"), 65; visit 
 to Walnut Grove, Virginia (Mc- 
 Cormick homestead), 65-66; in and 
 out of Chicago, 67-73; Washington 
 interval, 72-73; birth of Mary Vir- 
 ginia, 73; dress and ornaments in 
 early 'tfo's, 76-78; trip to England 
 and Continent, 78-81; birth of Robert 
 Fowler, 82; New York sojourn at 
 No. 40 Fifth Avenue, 83-85; birth of 
 Anita Eugenie, 85-86; New York 
 Ladies Southern Relief Society and 
 
326 
 
 INDEX 
 
 Nursery and Child's Hospital, 88; in- 
 fluence in husband's business, 89, 100- 
 101, 102; Exposition in Paris and ad- 
 vancement of reaper in Europe, 89- 
 91; presented to Emperor and Em- 
 press, 93; birth of and death of Alice, 
 93-94; New York, Richfield Springs 
 and back in Chicago, 93-98; Chicago 
 Fire and rebuilding of business, 96- 
 101; birth of son Harold Fowler, 
 101; North Sheldon Street house, 
 101-114; work on Interior, 104; 
 Woman's Presbyterian Board of Mis- 
 sions of the Northwest, 108, 109-110; 
 nostalgic visit to 40 Fifth Avenue, 
 in; birth of son Stanley, 114; dual 
 role — mother and husband's help- 
 meet, 115; building and planning 
 Rush Street home, 118, 127, 129-130; 
 Paris exhibition and awards, 120-123; 
 protest against intrusion of business 
 into her home province, 122; Paris 
 Exhibition and grand fete at Ver- 
 sailles, 122, 123, 124; problem of 
 business responsibilities, 125; Cabanel 
 portrait, 130; Richfield Springs (Clay- 
 ton Lodge), 131, 144; death of hus- 
 band, 132; grief at husband's death 
 and desire for usefulness and help to 
 others, 135; consultant and adviser in 
 husband's affairs, 136, 139; deafness, 
 138; physical and mental characteris- 
 tics, 140-142, 172; constant corre- 
 spondence with Cyrus, Jr., and com- 
 pany officials, 144; position on claims 
 re invention of the reaper, 152-153; 
 close relationship with brother Eld- 
 ridge, 154-155; donations and philan- 
 thropies, 157-172, 195-198, 201-216, 233, 
 239-293 passim, 302, 308-311; Cyrus, 
 Jr.'s, and Anita's weddings, 173-174; 
 reaction to Emmons Blaine, 174-175; 
 purchase of Leander's interest, 177; 
 New York residence, 178-179; trip 
 abroad, 179-180; becomes grand- 
 mother, 180; visit at Island Lake 
 Camp, 185-186; hostess during Exposi- 
 tion, 186-187; contributions to D. L. 
 Moody, 188; delight in Harold's en- 
 gagement, 188-189; trip abroad, 189- 
 190; description of wedding of Har- 
 old and Edith, 1 90-1 91; Egyptian 
 trip with Stanley, 192; five grand- 
 children, 194; endowment of chair 
 of jurisprudence at Princeton, 194; 
 friendship with Woodrow Wilson, 
 
 194-195; friendship with Marshall 
 Field, 198; leading interest in Mc- 
 Cormick Theological Seminary, 201- 
 205, 209-216; and Briggs heresy trial, 
 205-208; at Universal Exposition, 219- 
 220; share in merger plans, 225-226; 
 Stanley's wedding in Geneva, 229- 
 230; pride in International Harvester 
 Company, 233-234; advice in handling 
 strike, 234-235; aid to mountain 
 schools, 239-259; aid to foreign mis- 
 sions and hospitals, 260-279; missions 
 visited in Egypt, 276-277; aid to In- 
 ternational Committee of Y.M.C.A., 
 282-293; gifts to Y.W.C.A., 291-292; 
 surprise birthday party for, 297-299; 
 gift to Princeton of McCormick Hall, 
 302; family joys and sorrows, 302- 
 305; devoted servants, 304-305; ap- 
 pearance and characteristics, 305-306; 
 distress at Government suit against 
 International Harvester Company, 
 31 1-3 1 3; voting record, 313-314; last 
 Christmas holidays, 314; death at 
 Lake Forest, 314-315. See also Fowler, 
 Nancy Maria 
 
 McCormick, Robert, father of Cyrus 
 Hall McCormick, 152 
 
 McCormick, Robert Fowler (son), 
 birth, 82; death, 84 
 
 McCormick, Robert Hall (Leander's 
 son), stock in new company, 129; 
 purchase of his interest, 177 
 
 McCormick, Stanley (son), birth, 114; 
 in Browning School, 178-179; tennis 
 tournaments, 179; trip abroad, 179- 
 180; at Princeton, 183, 189; art studies 
 in Paris, 189-190; Egyptian trip with 
 mother, 192; singing lessons and con- 
 flicts, 193, 194; ill health, 193-194, 224, 
 226, 232-233; entrance into family 
 business and ranch at Cimarron, 200; 
 gift of books for Seminary, 214; 
 marries Katharine Dexter, 229-230; 
 contribution to S. P. Lees Collegiate 
 Institute, 241 
 
 McCormick, Stanley, School (Burns- 
 ville, N.C.), founded by Mrs. Mc- 
 Cormick, 244; Elizabeth Hall at, 248- 
 249; administration and temporary 
 discontinuance, 249-25 1 ; reopening, 
 258 
 
 McCormick, William G. (son of Wil- 
 liam S.), 51 
 
 McCormick, William S. (brother of 
 Cyrus Hall McCormick, 44, 126; 
 
Cyrus' wedding reception in home 
 of, 49 
 
 McCormick, Mrs. William S., party for 
 Cyrus and Nettie Fowler McCor- 
 mick's marriage, 51 
 
 McCormick (South Carolina), develop- 
 ment, 166-167; Academy in, 167-168 
 
 McCormick Administration Hall (Shan- 
 tung Christian University), 272 
 
 McCormick Chapel (Jackson, Ky.), 241 
 
 McCormick Collection of the State 
 Historical Society of Wisconsin, 317 
 
 McCormick Day, Tusculum College, 
 
 253- 2 54 
 
 McCormick Hall (McCormick Theo- 
 logical Seminary), gift of Cyrus Hall 
 McCormick, 202 
 
 McCormick Hall (Princeton), gift for 
 school of architecture, 302 
 
 McCormick Hall (Tusculum), 243 
 
 McCormick Harvesting Machine Com- 
 pany, viii, 224; a stock company, 129; 
 correspondence with officials, 144, 145, 
 147; Gordon Case, 144-145; strikes, 
 146-150; John D. Rockefeller meets 
 with, 199; rivalry with Deering at 
 Universal Exposition, 219-221; nego- 
 tiations with Deerings, 221-223; con ~ 
 ferences on merger, 224, 225; bonus 
 to old employees, 227; Deering dis- 
 satisfaction with management of, 231. 
 See also American Harvester Com- 
 pany and International Harvester 
 Company 
 
 McCormick Home for Orphan Boys 
 (Thornwell Orphanage), 165 
 
 McCormick Hospital (Thailand), 264- 
 265 
 
 McCormick Pavilion (Vincennes), 220 
 
 McCormick Theological Seminary 
 (Chicago, 111.), 140, 196; gift of Vir- 
 ginia Library, 201; Mrs. McCor- 
 mick's leading interest in, 201-205; 
 name voted, 202; threat to charter by 
 General Assembly, 208-209; creation 
 of presidency and endowment, 209- 
 212. See also Presbyterian Theological 
 Seminary of the North-West 
 
 McCosh, James, former president of 
 Princeton, 86, 1 19-120, 183 
 
 McDowell, Mary, 314; emissary to 
 mountain schools, 246-249 
 
 McGaw, Reverend A. G., 275 
 
 McKean, Dr. James W., 263-264 
 
 McKee, Mrs. , 179 
 
 INDEX 327 
 
 Mahidol, Prince (Siam), 264 
 Manchester (Vermont), birthplace of 
 
 Anita, 85 
 Manny, John H., inventor of reaping 
 
 machine, 57 
 Manny case, 57 
 Marcotte, , decorator from Paris, 
 
 127 
 Marquis, David C, 106 
 Martin, General Charles H., 303 
 Martin Academy, 162 
 Massachusetts Institute of Technology, 
 
 229 
 Massena Springs (N.Y.), in 
 Massey, Chester D., 286-287 
 Mateer, Calvin W., 271 
 Maynard House (Washington, D.C.), 
 
 63 
 
 Medill, Joseph, friend of Mr. McCor- 
 mick, 116 
 
 "Memorial of Robert McCormick, 
 The," 153 
 
 Merick, Eldridge G. (uncle-in-law), 
 21; married Jane Fowler, 10; advised 
 Clarissa in business, 17; early years 
 in home of, 21; liberal Universalist, 
 24; set up a school, 24; on Board of 
 Visitors of Falley Seminary, 28; rail- 
 road building, 31; business failed, 37; 
 meets C. H. McCormick, 47 
 
 Merick, Ermina (cousin "Mina"), 21, 
 31, 34, 78; away at Falley Seminary, 
 27; on trip to Montreal with Nettie, 
 41, 42; describes Nettie's wedding out- 
 fit, 50; diary quoted, 55-56, 61; with 
 honeymoon couple, ^6; with Nettie 
 on health tour, 60; with McCor- 
 micks in Washington, 64 
 
 Merick, Jane Fowler (Mrs. Eldridge 
 G. — aunt), 17, 23, 62, 63, 78, 260 
 
 Merick, Maria (Mrs. Isaac Lyon — 
 cousin), 21, 31, 32, 42; recalls mem- 
 ories of Depauville, 18 
 
 Merick, Melzar (cousin), 21, 27, 64; at 
 Falley Seminary, 27; at Genesee Wes- 
 leyan, 37, 38-40; partnership with 
 Eldridge Fowler, 55 
 
 Merick, Fowler and Esselstyn, shipping 
 business in Clayton, 22 
 
 Merle-Smith, Van Santvoord, married 
 Kate Fowler (niece), 303 
 
 Merriam, Charles E., 314 
 
 Merrick, Judge and Mrs. , 59 
 
 Mesabi Iron Range, 155 
 
 Methodist Church (Clayton, N.Y.), 
 23 
 
328 INDEX 
 
 Milford (New Haven Colony), Fowler 
 settled in, 11 
 
 Milwaukee Harvester Company, 225 
 
 Mitchell, Dr. S. Weir, 146, 189 
 
 Moffett, Samuel A., 266-268 
 
 Monroe, President James, 60; stopped 
 at Fowlers' with his wife, 13 
 
 Montecito, Riven Rock estate, 199 
 
 Monterey (California), family united 
 at, 174 
 
 Montreal (Canada), Nettie's trip to, 41 
 
 Moody, Dwight L., 106, 282; McCor- 
 micks' interest in tabernacle meet- 
 ings, 107; "Bible-Work," 107, 151; 
 schools and conferences at North- 
 field, 168; evangelistic campaign in 
 Chicago, 168, 187-188; contributions 
 to, 188, 106-197 
 
 Morgan, John Hunt, 59 
 
 Morgan, J. P., 223 
 
 Morgan, Junius S., 119, 223 
 
 Morgan and Company, 224 
 
 Morristown Normal and Industrial Col- 
 lege (Tennessee), aid to, 244-245 
 
 Morse, Richard C, 283 
 
 Mott, Dr. John R., Y.M.C.A. execu- 
 tive, 143, 172, 197-198, 281-282, 293 fn.; 
 international work for Y.M.C.A., 284- 
 293 
 
 Mott, Luther Wright, 314 
 
 Mt. Carmel Presbyterian Meeting 
 House, 66 
 
 Mount Hermon School, 168, 284 
 
 Mount Vernon (Washington's estate), 
 58 
 
 Napier, Lord and Lady, 59, 64 
 Napoleon III, Emperor of France, 89, 
 90, 91, 92, 93, 220; gives Grand Ball 
 with Empress Eugenie, 93 
 Nash, John, married Magdalena Essel- 
 
 styn, 12 
 National Agricultural Society, 68 
 New Albany Theological Seminary, 67 
 New Jersey, College of, at Princeton, 
 
 119 
 New Providence Church (Va.), 66 
 New York City, home at 40 Fifth Ave- 
 nue, 84-87, in, 128; later residence 
 in, 178-179 
 New York ladies' Southern Relief So- 
 ciety, 88 
 Newberry, Julia, 81 
 Newport (Rhode Island), 76 
 North Carolina, development of schools 
 in, 171 
 
 North Groton (Conn.), birthplace of 
 Silas Draper Spicer, 6 
 
 North Presbyterian Church (Chicago, 
 111.), 43, 50, 68, 70 
 
 Northfield (Mass.), Students' Confer- 
 ence at, 168 
 
 Northfield Seminary (Northfield, 
 Mass.), 168 
 
 Northwestern Presbyterian, later Inter- 
 ior, 103 
 
 Norton, Helon, Clarissa's business part- 
 ner, 17, 19 
 
 Notre Dame Cathedral (Paris), 127 
 
 Ober, C. K, 284 
 
 Old Point Comfort (Va.), Nettie visits 
 for health, 60 
 
 Old Providence Church and graveyard 
 (Va.), graves of Cyrus McCormick's 
 parents, 66 
 
 Ole Bull, concert by, 41 
 
 O'Learys' barn, starting point of Chi- 
 cago Fire, 97 
 
 Olivet Institute (Chicago, 111.), 140 
 
 Olivet Memorial Church (Chicago, 
 111.), 196 
 
 Ontario, steamer, 27 
 
 Orthogenic Clinic, Rush Medical Col- 
 lege, 309 
 
 Osborne, D. M., 144-145 
 
 Oser, Max, Mathilde (granddaughter), 
 married to, 302 
 
 Oswego, the foaming, 30 
 
 Our Home on the Hillside, in, 112 
 
 Ozarks, College of the (Clarksville, 
 Ark.), 310 
 
 Pacific Garden Mission, 195 
 
 Palace of Industry (Paris), awarding 
 
 of prizes at, 123 
 Paley's Evidences of Christianity, 28; 
 
 Natural Theology, 32 
 Palmer, Alice Freeman, viii 
 Palmer, Erastus Dow, marble bust of 
 
 Mrs. McCormick, 85 
 Palmer, George Herbert, viii 
 Paris, Exhibition of, 1878, 120; binder 
 
 exhibit — Grand Prize, 122 
 Park College, 160 
 
 Parsons, , anarchist, 151 
 
 Patterson, Mrs. R. W., no 
 
 Patron, Dr. Francis L., 105, 119, 205- 
 
 206; editor of Interior, 103; president 
 
 of Princeton, 189 
 Pennsylvania Central Railroad station, 
 
 lost baggage case, 76 
 
Perch River (N.Y.), 3, 23, Silas F. 
 Spicer home in, 19 
 
 Perkins, George W., 224-225, 226, 227; 
 advice sought in consolidation, 231 
 
 Persia, aid to missions in, 265-266 
 
 Petra, Professor Robinson's discovery 
 at, 212 
 
 Phelps', Mr., gallery, 58 
 
 Piccolomini, Marietta, 64 
 
 Pierre University (Pierre, S. Dak.), 158 
 
 Pinkerton detectives, 146, 147 
 
 Place de la Concorde (Paris), 127 
 
 Piano Company, 225 
 
 Plumer, Dr. William S., 86 
 
 Post, Judge , 235 
 
 Pots and pearls, 4 
 
 Pottier & Stimus, architects, 118 
 
 Potts, Mrs. (Helen Hard), 179 
 
 Presbyterian Church (Richfield 
 
 Springs), gift of Blaine memorial 
 organ to, 176-177 
 
 Presbyterian Church on Fifth, Avenue, 
 later called Fifth Avenue Presby- 
 terian Church, 88 
 
 Presbyterian Expositor, 73 
 
 Presbyterian Theological Seminary of 
 the North-West, 104-106, 205-206; 
 previously New Albany and Indiana 
 Seminaries, 67, 68; renamed McCor- 
 mick Theological Seminary, 202. See 
 also McCormick Theological Semi- 
 nary 
 Princeton University, 171; Harold and 
 Stanley enter, 183; endowment of 
 chair of jurisprudence, 194; gift to 
 school of architecture, 302 
 Pryor, General Roger A., 59, 87 
 Pryor, Sara A., friend in Washington, 
 
 59,87 
 Pyengyang (No. Korea), seminary 
 
 built at, 268 
 
 Radicals, 105 
 
 Railway strike of 1871, 146 
 
 Rankin, Dr. (Tusculum), 243 
 
 Ready, Mattie, friend of Nettie, 59 
 Reaper, Cyrus McCormick, pressed in 
 vain for renewal of 1847 patent, 73; 
 European awards, 80, 89-91, 93, 120- 
 121; McCormick acclaimed by France 
 as inventor, 93; controversy about 
 inventor, 152-153 
 
 Rhea, Mrs. , 109 
 
 Rice, Dr. Nathan L., pastor who mar- 
 ried Nettie and Cyrus, 50, 6$, 68, 73, 
 105 
 
 INDEX 329 
 
 Richardson, F. F. M., description of 
 
 Jackson, Kentucky, 240-241 
 Richfield Springs (N.Y.), vacation 
 resort, 94, 102, 144, 145; Anita's wed- 
 ding at, 175-176 
 Richmond House (Chicago, 111.), 67 
 Riggs, Dr. James, 210 
 Riven Rock, estate in California, 198- 
 
 199 
 Roach, Bertha L., 255 
 Robinson, Dr. George Livingstone, 276; 
 discovery of high place at Petra by, 
 212-213; granted fellowship in He- 
 brew, 214 
 Robinson, Jessie Harvey, 203, 276, 277 
 Rockbridge Alum Springs (Va.), 117 
 Rockefeller, Edith, 179; engagement to 
 Harold, 188-189; marriage, 190-191. 
 See also McCormick, Edith Rocke- 
 feller (Mrs. Harold) 
 Rockefeller, John D., consulted on 
 consolidation with Deering, 199; in- 
 terest in merger plans, 223, 225; gift 
 to International Committee of Y.M.- 
 C.A., 286 
 Rockefeller, John D., Jr., 178; advises 
 
 on negotiator, 223-224 
 Rockefeller, Percy, 178 
 Room 48, no 
 
 Roosevelt, President Theodore, 312 
 Root, George F., singer, 58 
 Royal Agricultural Society, 122 
 Rush Street house (675), Chicago, vii; 
 near completion, 129-130; musical in 
 honor of Cyrus's majority, 130; recep- 
 tion for Cyrus and bride, 174; merger 
 negotiations at, 222, 224 
 Russell, Henry, "Wind of the Winter 
 Night," 58 
 
 St. Caroline's Court Hotel (West Side, 
 Chicago), 97 
 
 St. Laurent, 90 
 
 St. Lawrence River, 3; in the fore- 
 ground of Nancy's growing years, 
 21, 22 
 
 St. Patrick's Cathedral (N.Y.C.), 85 
 
 Sandusky (Ohio), 30-31 
 
 Saratoga Springs (N.Y.), 61; Fowlers 
 stop at, 62 
 
 Sartiges, Count de, 60 
 
 Saunders, Miss , party given by, 
 
 59 
 Sauquoit (near Utica, N.Y.), 7 
 Savannah Valley Railroad, 167 
 
330 INDEX 
 
 Schenectady (N.Y.), Esselstyn one of 
 
 the first settlers, u 
 Scotia, S. S., 78 
 Scotland, visit to, 80 
 Scott, Dr. William M., 68 
 Self-rake reaper, on exhibition in Lon- 
 don, 79 
 Seminary. See McCormick Theological 
 Seminary and Presbyterian Theologi- 
 cal Seminary of the North-West 
 Seminary, History of the, 68 
 Seminary of the North-West, in Chi- 
 cago, 162. See also McCormick Theo- 
 logical Seminary and Presbyterian 
 Theological Seminary of the North- 
 West 
 Sesostris, boat for Egyptian voyage, 192 
 Shantung Christian University (Prov- 
 ince of Shantung), 268, 271-272 
 Shaw, Dr. Anna Howard, viii, 314 
 Sheldon Street house (Chicago, 111.), 
 
 104 
 Sherman Anti -trust Act, 181, 235, 312 
 Shields, Amanda, niece of Cyrus Mc- 
 Cormick, 116 
 Shields, Caroline, sister of Cyrus Mc- 
 Cormick, 62 
 
 Shields, Mr. , 62 
 
 Siam, aid to mission hospital in, 263-264 
 Skinner, Mary Louise, married Eldridge 
 
 Fowler, 55 
 Skinner, Thomas H., 106 
 Slater, Captain Arthur E., 275-276 
 Slavery issue, Cyrus McCormick's po- 
 sition on, 74 
 Smith, Dr. Benjamin Mosby, 86 
 Smith, General Francis Henney, 117 
 Smith, Hugh, general store of, 23 
 Smithsonian Institution, lectures at, 58 
 Sources, note on, 317 
 Speer, Dr. Robert E., 262, 263, 266, 287 
 Spicer, Clarissa (mother), 3, 5-6; born 
 in Brookfield (Madison County, 
 N.Y.), 7; influence of revivalist, 7; 
 joined Presbyterian Church, 7; Bible 
 class, 7, 8; love letters and marriage 
 to Melzar Fowler, 9. See also Fowler, 
 Clarissa (mother) 
 Spicer, Nancy Fish (grandmother), 6; 
 
 in later years Mrs. Elijah Davis, 6 
 Spicer, Peter (ancestor), founder of 
 
 family in America, 6 
 Spicer, Silas (great grandfather), 
 
 started family westward, 6-7 
 Spicer, Silas Draper (grandfather), 
 born in North Groton (Conn.), 6; 
 
 emigrated to New York State, 7; 
 death, 7 
 Spicer, Silas Fish (uncle), 5-6, 7, 9, 17, 
 
 19 
 Spies, , anarchist, 151 
 
 Spring, Charles A., Jr., general superin- 
 tendent of McCormick business, 144 
 
 Spring, Mrs. Charles A., Jr., 196 
 
 Spurgeon, Charles H., preacher in Lon- 
 don, 78-79 
 
 Stanton, Edwin M., 57 
 
 Stanton, Elizabeth Cady, viii 
 
 Stanwood (Bar Harbor, Me.), christen- 
 ing of Emmons Blaine, 184-185 
 
 Steam, use on canal boats, 61 
 
 Steele's Tavern (Rockbridge County, 
 Va.), field where reaper was first 
 tested, 66 
 
 StefTens, Reverend Cornelius M., 308 
 
 Stephenson, Florence, 242, 246 
 
 Stetson, Edith L., 257 
 
 Stetson, Francis Lynde, 222, 223-224 
 
 Stickney, Mrs. Edward, Rush Street 
 neighbor and aunt of Harriet Bradley 
 Hammond (Mrs. Cyrus, Jr.), 173 
 
 Stoecker, Adolph, 188 
 
 Stone, Dr. John Timothy, 214, 216 
 
 Stonington (Conn.), 6 
 
 Storey, Wilbur F., 74 
 
 Strategic Points in the World's Con- 
 quest, J. R. Mott, 285 fn. 
 
 Strikes (labor), 146, 148-149 
 
 Sullivan, Algernon Sydney, 87 
 
 Sullivan, George, friend of Cyrus, Jr., 
 88 
 
 Sullivan, Louis H., 254 
 
 Sullivan, Mary Mildred (Mrs. Algernon 
 Sydney), 88, 115, 179, 189, 190 
 
 Sulzer, Governor (N.Y.), 235 
 
 Sulzer, Robert F., 197 
 
 Superior Street house (Chicago, 111.), 
 114-116 
 
 Swenson, Caroline, 307 
 
 Swift, John Trumbull, 284 
 
 Swing, Professor David, 101, 205 
 
 Switzerland, 81 
 
 Syracuse University (Syracuse, N.Y.), 
 40 
 
 Tabernacle (London), 78 
 
 Taber Hall, gift to Jamestown College 
 
 (North Dakota), 308 
 Taft, President William Howard, 312 
 Taggart, Mary ("our Mary"), "dear 
 
 teacher" of Nancy's, 24 
 
Tarrytown (N.Y.), John Rockefeller 
 
 McCormick's death at, 228 
 Taylor, Earl, 287 
 Tennessee, development of schools in, 
 
 171 
 
 Thalberg, , 45 
 
 Third Presbyterian Church (Chicago, 
 
 111.), 101 
 Thompson, Jacob, 59 
 Thompson, William Hale, 313 
 Thornwell Orphanage, 164; Memorial 
 
 Home at, 167 
 Thousand Islands (St. Lawrence River), 
 
 3 
 Tilden, Samuel J., 87 
 Times ; New York, on Government suit, 
 
 312 
 Tisserand, M. Eugene, governor of 
 
 Emperor's landed estates, 91; descrip- 
 tion of Cyrus McCormick and Em- 
 peror Napoleon III, 220 
 
 Tomlins, William L., 176 
 
 Travemiinde (North coast of Ger- 
 many), 81 
 
 Troy Female Seminary, 187; student 
 at, 30, 31-32 
 
 Tuileries (Paris), 127; award held at, 
 
 Tunghai University (Taipei, Formosa), 
 269 
 
 Turkey, Sultan of, 00 
 
 Tusculum College (Tenn.), McCor- 
 mick aid to, 161-162, 167; visit to, 
 243; Virginia McCormick Hall at, 
 248; McCormick Day, 253-254; union 
 with Washington College, 255-257 
 
 Tweed regime (N.Y. City), 85 
 
 Unadilla Forks (N.Y.), 7 
 
 Underwood, Horace G., 267 
 
 Union Theological Seminary (N.Y.), 
 
 Briggs heresy trial, 205, 206, 208 
 Union Theological Seminary (Va.), 
 
 104 
 United States Fair, 67-68 
 Universal Exposition (Paris), 89-91; 
 
 awards, 92; rivalry of Deering and 
 
 McCormick, 219-221 
 Upper Norwood (England), hotel in, 
 
 82 
 Utica (N.Y.), 7 
 Utica Normal and Industrial Institute 
 
 (Mississippi), 309 
 
 Van Dyke, Henry, quoted, 278 
 Van Osdal, John M., architect, 102 
 Victoria, Queen of England, 61 
 
 INDEX 3 3 I 
 
 Virginia Hall (Tusculum College, 
 
 Tenn.), 248, 254-255 
 Virginia Library, gift to McCormick 
 
 Theological Seminary, 201 
 Virginia Military Institute (Lexington, 
 
 Va.), 117 
 
 Waite, Burnell & Company, 125 
 
 Waite-Burnell case, 125, 127 
 
 Wales, Prince of (later King Edward 
 VII), 90, 123 
 
 Walker, Samuel J., in deal with the 
 McCormicks, 09 
 
 Walnut Grove (Va.), Cyrus McCor- 
 mick's old home in Rockbridge 
 County, 6$-66 
 
 Walska, Ganna, Harold married to, 305 
 
 Warder, Bushnell & Glessner Company, 
 181, 224 
 
 Warner, Charles Dudley, Through 
 Virginia on Horseback, 249 
 
 Washington (D.C.), honeymoon cou- 
 ples in, 56; Cyrus McCormick's home 
 in, 63 
 
 Washington and Lee University, 117 
 
 Washington and Tusculum College, 
 
 255-257 
 
 Washington College (later merged with 
 Tusculum), 162, 256-257 
 
 Watson, Peter H., 57 
 
 Wentworth, "Long John," 75, 82 
 
 Western Presbyterian Publishing Com- 
 pany, 103 
 
 Wheeler, W. Reginald, 273 
 
 White Sulphur Springs (W. Va.), 116 
 
 Whitman & Barnes Manufacturing 
 Company, 180 
 
 Wilder, Robert P., 284 
 
 Willard, Emma, founder of Troy Fe- 
 male Seminary, 32-34 
 
 Willard, Emma, Association, reception 
 for, 187 
 
 Willard, Frances E., viii, 40 
 
 Willard, John and Sarah, 32, 33 
 
 Willard's Universal History, 27 
 
 Williams, John E., 272 
 
 Wilson, Elizabeth, 291, 292 
 
 Wilson, John P., 235 
 
 Wilson, Warren H., 258 
 
 Wilson, Warren H., Junior College 
 (Swannanoa, N.C.), 253 
 
 Wilson, President Woodrow, 194-195, 
 313; address at 80th anniversary of 
 the Seminary, 212 
 
 Wisconsin, State Historical Society of 
 (McCormick Collection), 317 
 
332 INDEX 
 
 Wishard, Dr. John G., 265 
 
 Wishard, Luther D., 281, 282, 284 
 
 Woman's Board of Missions of the In- 
 terior, 108 
 
 Woman's Christian Temperance Union, 
 195-196 
 
 Woman's Presbyterian Board of Mis- 
 sions of the Northwest, 108, 1 09-1 10 
 
 Wood, Walter A., agricultural ma- 
 chines of, 91, 93 
 
 Wood ashes, 4 
 
 Woodbridge and Willard, text on 
 Universal Geography, 32 
 
 Woodward, Benjamin D., 220 
 
 World Cofmrninique, 293 fn. 
 
 World's Columbian Exposition (Chi- 
 cago, 111.), 186-187; assassination of 
 Mayor Harrison at, 188 
 
 World's Student Christian Federation, 
 281, 286, 293 
 
 Wright, Alice, 92 
 
 Wright, Mr. and Mrs. Luther (Oswego, 
 
 N.Y.), McCormick children with, 89, 
 
 92 
 
 Yesselsteyn, Marten Cornelise (ances- 
 tor), first Esselstyn in America, 11 
 Young, Dr. Josephine E., 308-309 
 Young Men's Christian Association, 195, 
 282; in China, 269; international 
 growth, 283-293 
 Young Reaper, Cyrus, Jr., 65 
 Young Women's Christian Association, 
 gifts to, 291-292 
 
 Zenos, Dr. Andrew C, 204; on Briggs 
 heresy trial, 207-208; proposed Dr. 
 McClure for presidency of McCor- 
 mick Theological Seminary, 211