Chicago History | Spring 1986 by Chicago History Museum

CHICAGO HISTORY-

_ _ _ _T_h_e_M _ agazine of the Chicago Historical Socie!X_ __

EDITOR

R L'SSE!.L L EWIS

Spring 1986 Volume XV, Number 1

ASSOCIATE EDITOR

MF:c WA1:rrn EDITORIAL ASSISTANT A LETA ZA K

DESIGNER

CONTENTS

LISA G INZ Ei. PHOTOGRAPHY

W1u.1A:v1 T J c,:-:1:-:cs

RICHARD C, WADE

j A:\E R H;r\ ;\

20 Copyrigh1 1986 by the Chi cago Histori ca l Socie ty C la rk S1ree t at North Ave nu e Chi cago, Illin o is 606 14

The Enduring Chicago Machine Samuel Insull and the Electric City H A ROLD

PLATT

Sincerely, Louis H. Sullivan

lSSN 0272-85-HJ Articles a ppearing in thi s journ a l are abs1rac1ed a nd in dexed in Historical Abstracts and America: HistOI)' and Life.

DEPARTMENTS

Foo1noted man uscrip1 s o f the articl es appearing in thi s issue are a\'a il ab le in 1he Chi cago Hi storica l Society's Pu b li cat ions O ffi ce.

DAN IEL

Cove r: Adapted f rom 1923 Commonwealth Edison Vea rbooh cover. Inside Cove rs: Adapted from inside

covers of /928 Commonwealth Edison l1!arbook.

Review Essay P.

O'N EILL

Book Reviews

FROM THE EDITOR What isn't history? I realize that this is not the usual question editors of history magazines pose. You might even say it is the wrong question. You are more likely accustomed to seeing "What is history?" or "Why study history?" But I feel these questions have run their course, and new, even unorthodox ones are needed. I'd like to see where this one will lead us. There are many things that qualify as "not history," but to list them all would require more than the seventy-two pages of this issue. Some are obvious, but others do not fall so neatly into this category of "not history." I want to focus on three of them here. Mytl1 is not history. Myth is rooted in faith, in revealed truth; history is grounded in facts, in what is observed or recorded and then analyzed. History is the newcomer of the two. For millennia, myth alone seemed to supply all that was necessary to give a people a sense of identity. Combining law, science, art, and religion into one coherent view of tl1e world, myth is unquestionably one of man's greatest inventions. Then along came something called history. Herodotus, a fifth-century B.C. Greek, is credited as being the first historian. Historie, as he called it, was a scientific method of inquiry that required first asking a question, then searching for data relevant to the question, and finally, drawing a conclusion from the information collected. Herodotus's History, a chronicle of the Greco-Persian Wars, grew from two simple que tions: Âˇ'Why did tl1e Persian Wars come about, and what deeds were accomp lished on both sides that are worthy of being remembered?" In asking these questions, Herodotus started a quiet revolution. History is comprised of facts, yet facts are not history. History is more than a list of dates, events, or people, or coll ections of objects. The date 1776 has great historical significance, for instance, but is not history. The same is true of tl1e objects tl1at make up our world. Cars, computers, microwave ovens, and fountain pens a ll have a historical context which tells us something about a particular time, but the objects are not history. History is what makes sense of these things; it puts facts "togetl1er into a pattern that is understandable and credible ..." historian William H. Mc e ill contends. Historians do this by asking questions, and the best ones explain to us how things were once related, and also how that relationship has changed over time. History is not the past, it is only what we know of the past. We know this because history changes-it is periodically revised, reworked, and rewritten-but the past doesn't. History then is a portrait of the past. And just as a portrait reveals much about a person, history can offer keen insights into the past, which is virtually unknown. A historian is only as good as the questions he or she asks. In this case, it seems to me that finding answers to the "wrong question" can head us in tl1e right direction. RL

Chicago Historical Society OFFICE RS Stewa rt S. Di xon , C:hainnan Phi lip W. 1-Iumme 1~ ViCP-Chainnan Philip D. Bl oc k Ill, ViCP-Cltairman

Bryan S. Re id . Jr.. Treasurer Mrs. Newto n N. Min01r, Secretary Th eod o re Ti e ke n , lrnmediale Past Chairma11

Ell swo rth H . Brown, President and Director

TR USTEES Philip D. Bl ock Ill J o hn T McC utche on , .Jr. La ure nce Boo th Willia m J. McDo no ug h Ro be rt Mee rs Mrs. Pasto ra Sa n.J ua n Caffe rty Stewa rt S. Di xon Mrs. Newton N. Minow Willi a m M. Dra ke Ri chard H . Needh am Ed wa rd Hin es Potte r Palm e r Philip W. Humm e r Mrs. Ed wa rd S. Pe te rse n Brya n S. Re id ,.Jr. Edga r D . .J a nnotta Philip E. Ke ll ey Edward Byro n Smith , Jr. Mrs. Broo ks McCo rmi ck De mpsey J. Travis Mrs. Abra Pre nti ce Wilkin

LIFE TR USTE ES Cyrus Co lter Andrew McNa ll y Ill Mrs. Frank D. Maye r Mrs. C. Phillip Mill e r Ga rdn e r H. Ste rn T heodo re Ti e ke n

HO NORARY TRUSTEES Haro ld Was hingto n, Mayor, City of Chicago Wa lte r A. Ne tsch , Jr., President, Chicago Park District

Th e C hi cago Hi sto ri ca l Soc ie ty is a pri vate ly e nd owe d instituti o n d evoted to co ll ecting, prese rving, a nd inte rpre ting th e history o f th e city o f C hi cago, th e state o f Illin o is, a nd se lected areas of Am e ri ca n history. It must loo k to its m e mbers a nd fri e nds fo r co ntinuing fin ancia l suppo rt. Contributions to th e Socie ty are tax-d ed ucti ble, and approp ri ate recogn itio n is acco rd ed maj o r gi fts. Membership Members hi p is open to anyone inte rested in the Soc ie tr's goals a nd acti\'ili es. C lasses o r a nnu a l members h ip a nd dues are as fo llo\\'s: lncli, id ua l, 25: Fam ily, $'.·rn. !\!embe rs rece i,·e the Society's qu arte rl y maga,in e, Chimgo Hist01y: a qu arte rl y Calendar 1/f Events listi ng Socie ty programs: in\'ita ti o ns to spec ial e\'e nls; free admissio n to the build ing at a ll times; resc n ·cd seats at fi lms a nd co ncerts in o ur a uditorium: a nd a JO pe rce nt disco unt on books . a nd o th e r merc ha ndise purchased in the Muse u m Store . Hours Th e Mu se um is ope n d a il ) fro m 9:30 .ut. to 4:30 ,~~1.: Sund ay fro m 12:00 :--:oo:--: to 5:00 l'.~I. Th e Libra!)' is o pe n Tu esda) th ro ug h Saturd ay fro m 9:30 ,u t. to 4:30 1'~1. All o th e r researc h coll ec ti o ns are o pe n by a ppo intm e nt. Th e Society is closed o n Christma,, New Yea r's, a nd T ha nksgiving d ays. Education and Public Programs Cuided to urs, sli de lectures, gall e ry talks, craft d e mo nstrat ions, and a vari e ty of spec ia l programs fo r a ll age,, from pre-sc hool th ro ugh se ni o r citi7en , arc o ffe red. Admission Fees for Non-members Adult s, 1.50: Childre n (6-1 7), 5(H': Se ni o r Citize n , 50~. Admissio n is free o n l\ lo nd ms.

Chicago Historical So~iety

Clark Street at North Avenue

Chicago, Illinois 60614

(312) 642-4600

The political boss system, depicted in thi.1 /93-1 Jo/111 T McC11tcheo11 ca,10011 with almost nostalgicfond11e.~r, had all but disappeared in American cities by the 19-1Os. 4

The Enduring Chicago Machine By Richard C. Wade

Machine politics are not peculiar to Chicago, but the city's machine has outlasted its counterparts around the country. To understand its longevity and current condition, the author turns to history. is uniquely American. It appeared in the nineteenth century, the product of a peculiar mixture of American democratic institutions and the first explosive growth of the nation's cities. A machine developed in almost every sizable American city, be it old or new, North or South, growing or declining. Almost universally deplored by the best-known observers of American institutions, the machine was widely believed to be corrupt, exploitive, undemocratic, and ironically, "unAmerican'.' In 1889 Lord Bryce made his famous judgment: "There is no denying that the government of cities is the one conspicuous failure of the United States. The deficiencies of tJ1e National government tell but little for evil on the welfare of tJ1e people. The faults of the State governments are insignificant compared with the extravagances, con-uptions and mismanagement which mark the administrations of most of tJ1e great cities." Thomas Bailey Aldrich, one of tJ1e country's leading literary figures, noted tJ1e ethnic flavor of some machines by referring to their performance as "a despotism of the alien , by the alien, for the alien, tempered by occasional insun-ections of the decent folk." A Harvard political scientist wrote an article on "The Irish Cap1ivity of American Cities"; Lincoln Steffens's The Shame of the Cities summed up the popular view of the governance of the nation's municipalities. After the decline and virtual disappearance of tJ1e institution following the Great Depression, a nostalgic literature grew up around the boss and his Âˇ machine, arguing that for all their shortcomings they at least provided leadership and (presumably) eliminated untidy p1imarie and messy public disagreements over policy and budgets. This benign view was popularized by Edwin O'Connor's charming THE LIRHAN POI.ITICAL\IACIIl~E

Richard C. Wade is distinguished professor of history at tlu Graduate Cmter of the City University of New York.

Last Hurrah, but finds a genial respectability among academics, columnists, and political observers. early every election evokes the "good old clays" when party bosses would get together and choose a slate, and the well-disciplined organization would march willing citizens to the polls to vote for superior candidates and acceptable programs. In tJ1e process of revision, a machine system scarcely recognizable to most historians has been created. Chicagoans have always believed their city is the peculiar home of the machine and boss sy~tem. Yet this form of municipal politics stemmed from roots common to most large (and some small) cities. But if it did not invent the machine, Chicago did elevate it to an envious level of technological perfection in the post-depression period, establishing a national reputation for machine efficiency. An eastern journalist remarked after a visit to Chicago: "I have seen the past, and it works." Yet, the Cook County organization is not the most successful. That accolade belongs to Albany, ew York, where the venerable Erastus Corning had been mayor continuously from 1943 to 1982. In his last years he charmingly explained his success by observing that, despite rampant inflation, "the five dollar vote still stands in Albany." Nor was Chicago's machine ever as criminal as Hague's Jersey City, or as con-uptasJim Curley's Boston, or as racially venal as Crump's Memphis. Michael "Hinky Dink" Kenna, boss of Chicago's First Ward, acknowledged this observing that "we never go for the big stuff' because it was "too risky" and instead settle on the incremental emoluments of the "small stuff." onetJ1eless, Chicago's machine has had a wide reputation for its effectiveness and endurance, and its present clisan-ay strikes observers as novel and unexpected. The historian's perspective, however, is different. The proper question is not why it has collapsed, but rather why it lasted so 5

/111111igm11/s i11 Ameriw's lmge cilif.s in thf w11el1'1'11 /h a11r/ mr/_1•twfnliflh cn1turiesjaar/ wrl'1£ill'd hou.111~ a11d mnvd,,r/ livi11g nmditions, n ,hortag,· ofjob.1. inadN/JWII' 1rhool.1, li1111·,d 1/reet1. a1111nic /J11hhr sn·vic,,,. a11d high crime rate,. ,\hove, chiiL/rm piL,y m a vam11/ lot in ,\'no li,rk C:il\'. r. /9/0. Photograph allrilwted lo l.rw,.1 lfi11f. /,ejt, C:hirngo /enmwnl dwellen, c. /912. Hight, 1111'11uwl1111hr /Jmur-1)' Mi.uirm breadli11e 111 ,\ 'rw li,ril City, /9117. l'lwtogra/Jh by Lewi.s Hi11r.

Chicago Marhinf

long. For one can only understand Chicago's recent experience in the context of the origins of the Ame1ican urban machine and of its decline during the past two generations. The boss system emerged out of the peculiar conditions created by America's great urban explosion of the nineteenth century. Wave after wave of immigrants piled into the inner cities, and young people streamed in from the American countryside, creating unprecedented residential congestion. In New York's Tenth Ward the density approached 300,000 people per square mile; in Chicago some areas exceeded 100,000. No other city in the world could match these population density figures. No matter what their origins, the newcomers faced the same conditions-wretched housing, scarce jobs, inadequate schools, littered streets, anemic public services, high crime rates, and endemic disorders. Indeed, today's urban problems are not new. Photographer Jacob Riis coined the phrase "how the other half lives" nearly a hundred years ago; Harvard professor Joseph Mayer Rice examined the nation's school system and found that dropping out, truancy, overcrowding, and poor teaching were rampant. Chicago's Board of Health reported that three out of five children born in the First vÂ˝trd died by the age of one yea1~ In late nineteenthcentury Chicago hundreds of trains, all puffing soft coal,jammed into downtown; horse manure dirtied the streets, and sanitation carts made irregu lar garbage pickups in the city's alleys. Children frolicked in contaminated creeks, soiled streets, and dangerous lots. At best, municipal governments responded to this broad range of problems with concern and well-meaning yet ineffective programs, but more usually with neglect, indifference, or even exploitation. People living in the inner cities managed as best they could. Women sought sanctuary from the crowding and chaos in churches and temples which offered peace and quiet under the genial and forgiving eye of a priest or rabbi. For the men, there was the saloon . Here, too, was an urban oasis well lit, clean, convivial-where people knew each other's first names. Here everyone was somebody. And there was always the street. Although jammed at times, it was a place away from home and job, where friends chatted and new acquaintances were made. Yet, the broader institutional adjustment of the inner city to the predicament of its vulnerable 7

Chicago History, Spring 1986 people was political. The machine and the boss system gave public expression to the life of the people who occupied the most difficult parts of the American city. The machine hardly had noble origins. lt sprang from the plight and ambitions of second-generation newcomers to the cit)'· \bung, ambitious, and often talented , they grew up tantalized by society's promises of success and frustrated by the contradictions of upward mobility: they could not go into business because they had no money; they could not go into the professions because they had no education; they could not go into high finance or commerce because they had no family connections. What they did have were numbers and the right to vote. This was the loophole in the system. Everywhere else numbers were the curse of the neighborhood-too many mouths to feed at home, too many apartments in the building, too many tenements on the block. Yet in politics numbers were an asset; indeed, here only numbers counted. If used shrewdly, they could u·a nsform the source of difficulty into an instrument of protection and strength. Political power could cushion the worst etlect of the dreadful conditions in the inner-city neighborhoods. Given this opportunity, members of the second generation took it. Without personal resources, they organized themselves loosely, were sought out by party functionaries 1rho rewarded them with jobs, and found their way onto party slates. Organized in gangs, they occupied the netherlancl between legal and illegal activity. Their general behavior~ often invol\'ing brawling and limited violence, contributed to the low reputation of political organizations in '·tenderloin" wards of most American cities. But their cohesiveness made them attractive to political factions seeking votes on prima11· or election clay. Th us, it must be stated at the outset that the machine was never a charity organization or a social settlement. Indeed, it is not surprising that bossism 's methods and objectives were disreputable . It sought exemptions from the law: permitting saloons to operate on Sundays, protecting gambling and prostitution, and winking at building code violations. On another level, it merely sought leniency for those caught in the web of the law: posting bail for an old drunk, attesting to the character of a truant student, postponing rent evictions, and reducing the cost of a hospital bill. 8

Chirago \ politira/ marh1111• wn1 an i111j}(Jr/a11/ Jnov,dt'r ofJOb<Jor Liu• rity\ i1111mgra11/ j)(ljJlllatinn, hl'l!IV'fll 1880 and !9'30. a /Jetiod whm the llnt'111JJ/o_)'mmt m/1• lun~'red a/J(lt¥' 211 /Jercmt. AbmlP, a crowd of 1111em/Jloyed workn:11111ud11's lo U11rago City /-/all in /9/ /. 711naloo11 (,ighl) 11,n,ed a.1 a /Jolitiral c/11bh1111" whrre bow,, and their associates co11d11r/l'{/ their b11si11t'\I III a re/a_,Pd and j,iendly a/111os/1h,,re. ,\ /1/ace where 1111•11 ,,.,,,, jmjob., rmd otha polit1rnl Ja«m a, well m compa11um1hi/J. /hf' saloon ll~LI an i111porta11/ /in/, beh,1Pe11 11,,, marh1m• and the ordinary citizi>n.

All of these activities frustrated or skirted the law, but they also a ided those unable to manage their own affairs. Most of all, the machine acted as a primitive employment agency. Later generations would see this function simply as patronage on the public payroll. But the boss had a much longer reach that included all employment even marginally connected with public expenditures. Such employment was not inconsiderable, for machine power reached its apex between 1880 and 1930 as cities were building what is now called the "urban infrastructure.'' This included streets, sewers, bridges, tunnels,

Chicago Machine

. ....... ,s1s i,y

-~<...- ann u•Lehn'I E.J.

····-········--

Chicago History, Spring 1986

Wnkmm J1ave LaSalle Street with creosoted wood blocks, c. 1910. The 11eighborlwod /10/itiral machine art{'(/ as a primitiv,, employment ag,m.cyfor workers hel/1i11g lo build Amnira's urba11 i11Jras/111cturp-s/rats, sewen, bridg,â&#x20AC;˘s, and wain and e/ectriml ry.1tmo1- belwf'f 11 /880 and 1930.

and water and elecnical systems, as well as innumerable schools, hospitals, parks, and Lransit systems. Private construction matched public building, and nearly all of it was done manually, which required tough hands and snÂˇong backs. Employers, depending on franchises, building codes, and ordinances, had to indulge, if not co-opt, political power. They needed labor; the machine provided it. The neighborhood depended on jobs; the political system had special access to them. Since this was a period of unprecedented urban expansion, jobs were plentiful-but by contemporary standards, not by ours. Though no one kept accurate statistics at the time, it is unlikely that unemployment ever fell below 20 percent. And the machine produced only a modest cushion for the depression years that occun-ed relentlessly every decade. The slim margins meant that all members of the family entered the labor forcewives and children of both sexes and all ages LO

above six or seven. This depressed wages, creating competition even within families. The local outpost of the machine was the clubhouse. It was to the boss system what the coffee house was to the merchant., or the social club to tl1e business community. Located in the heart of a troubled neighborhood, it became the focus of local political life. Its long bar beckoned, and its bright lights filled the room, softened only by sawdust on the floor. Card tables clotted the back room; there were usually some pool tables, and in the larger clubhouses perhaps even a boxing ring. In the further recesses or upstairs the boss and his associates conducted the neighborhood's business-discussing a few jobs, agreeing to see the judge about a disorderly conduct charge, chatting with prospective candidates for the slate. Downstairs bustled with conviviality, unbuttoned small talk, and engaging braggadocio. Here, in this relaxed setting among friends, a neighbor was

Chicago Machine

Abavt', a constniction rrew is shown in front of lhe Thiset lfaildi ng on Commercial Av1â&#x20AC;˘1w1' north of 92nd Strfl't, c. /9 10. 7100 ofC:hicago'.1 must notorious bosses, Aldtâ&#x20AC;˘nnen 1\/icha,,t "'l-fi11ky Oink" Kenna (ltjl) and "/Jarhhouse'J ohn Coughlin pose a/ the /92./ DmwcracticC:onve11tio11 i11 New )1:,rk. /11 exclum{!!' for poiilical support, C:hirago 's /10/itical bo:.ses provided jobs and otlwr .wrvices for 1Ji,, miden/s of their wards. Coughlin earned hir nickname by promoting a number of public bathhouses in the city's Finl \ \rm/.

some bod y. T ho ugh he wa5 justanother bod y on the j ob, and h e was lost in th e crowd o n his bl ock a nd in his building, at the po li tica l club he co unted . Friends called him by his first name, and he ran in to peop le wh o were we ll known . T he district lead e r gave him a po litica l task to d o; he co uld eve n j o ke about owing mo ney to a friend or the ba1te nder. And, just as satisfying, ca nd idates and repo rters pa id th e ir respects with a visit o n electio n clay. To u rv ive, th e machin e had to learn how to care fo r th ose with o utj obs and th ose wh ose wages d id no t cover re nt, food, and clothing. T his mea nt somehow postpo ning o r fi nessing hospital bills, picki ng u p funera l costs, getting coal whe n it was short o r ex pe nsive, and prov id ing turkeys fo r th e d estitute at C hristmas a nd T ha nksgiving. Nostalgic II

Chicago Machine literature has romanticized this function, but it was, in reality, of considerable importance to the neighborhood. Every February, for example, "Big" Tim Sullivan, ew York's boss of the Bowery, distributed shoes to the children in the school district. To be sure, Sullivan shook down the local merchants for the shoes, and his largess sLOpped at the ward boundary. Reformers did not believe his gift constituted scientific charity, but the criticism only enhanced "Big" Tim's reputation for caring for his people. Yet personal favoritism was never a very secure base for the machine. More and more, the boss performed services for the block or the district: a small park here, a school or playground there; a new sewer or better pavement in one place, a fire station in another. Bathhouses sprang up everywhere , providing hygienic facilities in congested neighborhoods where there was no indoor plumbing. Indeed , Chicago's First Ward boss John Coughlin promoted so many that it earned him the sobriquet "Bathhouse"John. Even an annual family trip to the country brought escape from the urban cauldron and many thanks to its sponsors. The politicians who ran the machine took their cuts along the way. They contributed handsomely to the rampant co1TUption of the political process, participated in boodle and b1ibery as a matter of course, continually raised taxes, indulged special business interests, and protected gambling and prostitution. And men who held only modestjobs on the public payroll suddenly became rich. Refonners and the newspapers harped on the sordid aspects of the boss system. But neighborhood residents accepted machine shenanigans as a matter of course. After all, if your own politicians would not protect you and provide even the most basic services, who would? Machine corruption and a ballot cast on election day seemed a small price to pay for the benefits received. Ironically, the machine's opponents unwittingly promoted the bosses' role. ln this period the "best _people" supported movements to "clean up" city government by lowering taxes, balancing budgets, and encouraging nonpartisan employment and This rarloon by.John T MrCutrhron. "ThR 7hum.ph of7ammanim5," i, highl_y critical of lhe com,pt political overlords of ,\'nv li>rk Âˇ, Tc1mma11y I !all marhinr and their power ovrr dnrnl, honest citizn1s. A ninrtee11th-cflltt11)' innovalwn, the political machine resulted from a hlnuling of hrubtuma/ Amnirrm dnnocratir inslitutions and l'Xplosive urban g,vwth.

business efficiency. To them, "reform" m~anl temperance (if not prohibition), women's rights, and civil service refonn (thus adding an educational factor to public employment). They believed issues such as poverty, health, housing, and consumer protection belonged to private agencies or the market economy. In short, they believed in a limited role for government and a large measure of selfreliance for all-rich and poor, stsong and weak. The machine and boss system evolved out of this gap between the needs of the vulnerable people in the inner-city neighborhoods and the indifference and often hostility of the older residents, most of whom had moved to the outer residential edges of the city while maintain ing an economic stake in the business downtown. Reform reflected the politics of the successful residents on the city's periphery, while the boss and the machine expressed the plight of those caught up in the dreadful conditions in the older neighborhoods. As the metropolis grew, so did the numbers on both sides. The split widened, and the issue of boss and machine rule dominated the nation's political dialogue. The contest was nationwide and included nearly every major city. And it was non-partisan. In some places, like Philadelphia, the machine was Republican; in others, like Boston, it was Democratic. In Chicago, the division existed in both parties. Although Ame1icans today associate machines with the Democratic party, the connection has only developed since the Great Depression. The political affiliation of a machine was unimportant. The Democratic and Republican parties were primarily national in their focus; their ideology and policies mattered little to the city politician. Even the party in power in Washington mattered little to most city dwellers. There was no income tax of any significance, no draft, no social security, no health programs, and no unemployment insurance. Only the postal system connected Washington to its metropolitan reaches. He who presided at City Hall was more important than the occupant of the White House. Indeed, local elections often atuÂˇacted more voters than presidential contests. The struggle between machine and reform characterized American politics for a half century. Each side enjoyed a share of the successes. In the process, tl1e machine tempered its grossest practices, and reformers softened many of their moral judgments of the people who lived in tl1e congested 13

Chicago History, Spring 1986 downtown areas. This accommodation was accelerated by the exodus of second- and third-generation inne1~city dwellers, who moved to the pleasant residential areas previously occupied by older inhabitants. But this unique era of American politics came to an end. The Great Depression hit the cities harder than any previous economic panic. It lasted a decade and ultimately redefined American urban, and hence national, politics. The depression was as much a watershed in the history of cities as of the country. For more than two hundred years, cities had managed their own affairs. Chicago, for example, built the Sanitary and Ship Canal, which reversed the flow of the river. It created one of the most extensive park systems in the world, it reshaped the lake shoreline, and it provided water for its suburban neighbors. The city established an extensive mass-transit system, educated its growing school population, and pioneered the social settlement. All of this was accomplished without aid from either Springfield or Washington; indeed, Chicago had enough money left over to send some to both. The Great Depression marked the end of this urban selfsufficiency; in the modern period cities would come to depend increasingly on state and federal funds. As a result, even where the machine hung on, it no longer controlled the money, the policy, or the jobs. The New Deal, propelled by persistent unemployment, widening poverty, and growing desperation, began to provide nationally the programs for ordinary people that the boss system could only produce sporadically and inadequately.Jobs offering the minimum wage and unemployment compensation emanated from Washington through the Works Progress Administration (WPA) and the Public Works Administration (PWA), and from countless local public works. The Social Security Act provided help to the elderly, school-work programs and conservation projects kept young people busy, and public housing and the Federal Housing Administration furnished shelter for the homeless and security for homeowners. In short, what the machine had provided on a primitive level and with obligations was now provided by the federal government as a matter of right. Thus, few people noticed as the whole rationale for the boss system slipped slowly away. The fact that the bosses supported Franklin D. Roosevelt and his ew Deal concealed the erosion 14

of their power. City governments were initially the only government agencies available to administer relief and new programs; t.he machines seemed to prosper and their power appeared enhanced. In Chicago the Kelly-Nash machine loomed larger than before, even though its old reform nemeses Harold Ickes, Henry Homer, and Charles Merriam held high positions in Springfield and Washington. Inevitably, the locus of authority shifted to Washington , and the most effective mendicants proved the ablest bosses. Washington's authority eroded the base and autonomy of local political organizations. But the New Deal's sponsorship of unions also uncle1111inccl the private patronage historically available to the machine. The unions now found the jobs, exercised discipline in the work place, protected the employed worker, and, along with the federal government, took care of him during slack times. The union hall replaced the old political clubhouse. Here were the bar~ the meeting rooms, pool and bowling, and even family recreation. At the union bank, workers cashed checks, saved for vacations, and, later, paid their medical bills. It was not uncommon for unions to lead their new members in a charge against their old machine benefactors even when Roosevelt was still alive. The famous phrase of the Democratic convention in Chicago in 1940 was "clear it with Sidney"; "Sidney" was Sidney Hillman, the head of the Amalgamated Clothing Workers, not a political boss. By the encl of the wa1~ the Kelly-Nash machine gave way to Jake Arvey, a shrewd observer who understood that the old ways were over. To survive at al!, it was necessary to ally with "clean," if not "reform," candidates. Under his tutelage, the machine supported Martin Kennelly for mayor and later put Paul Douglas and Adlai Stevenson at the top of the Democratic state ticket. This nimbleness left the machine intact, if not very powerful. Across the country, bo s systems collap ed. ln Philadelphia, the GOP's most durable machine dissolved amid scandal; elsewhere the dominoes tumbled. Memphis,Jer ey City, Seattle, Atlanta, Minneapolis, St. Louis, and New York replaced the old system with " ew Look" mayors. Chicago, among the major cities, seemed immune to tl1e new forces. Yet Richard J. Daley was never a boss in the classic sense. He did, in fact, inherit some substantial remnants of the old Kelly- ash machine, and the local press found it

Chicago A1achine

CAMPAIGN CONTRIBUTIONS THE" PvB1-1c. WILL NEV£R.

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1 MIS~Ec"P C£Tl'IN Cr A °'""TEI>.. MEMl3E RS !-llP

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C.ERT1F1EO

THE NEW WAY

How Much of a Progressive Are You? Buy a Certificate and Become a Member of the Progressive Party for more tha11 half a ce11il11)' machiw• and rejimn politicians stmgglnl In control city fsOVemmmt. In this 1912 political advertisnnent, cartooni5t ,\ lc(;utchron compr,,-p\ the Progr1't1iV1' par()' ·5 o/m1 a11d publir campaign con tribution policy with the machines com,pt f und-raising Jm,rtices.

Chicago J'vlachine

The Creal Depression marked the n,d of the urban machine:1 role as the primary provider ofjobs. Cities became increasingly dependent on stale and jedPmlfundffor the jobs and social welfare programs that the boss system had provided only sporadically and inadeq,wtely. Left, participants in a Works Progres1 Administmlion parade march down Madison Street in J anuary 1939. Above, while the bÂŽ system crumbled in other Amnican cities during the 1930.1 and 1940s, Chicago spolitical machine, led by Cook County Democratic Party Chainnan Patrick A. ,\'ash (sealed, left) and Mayor Edward J. KPlly (center), remained il1lacl. Alderman J ake Arney (sealed, right) helped preserve the machine by promoting "clean .. mayoral candidate Marlin H. Knmelly in 1947. Congressman A. J. Sabbath and Sherif!T J. O'Brien stand behind Kelly.

eas ie r to cast him in th e o ld mod e tha n to a nalyze him in th e conte xt o f th e new co nditi o ns. Ind eed , he ofte n reve led misc hi evo usly in past illusions and suffe red th e swagge r of loudmouth ed but pintsized wa rd "lead e rs." He eve n re fe1Ted to th e city coun cil as "an ind e pe nde nt legis lati ve bod y" ~ncl mad e em barrass in g appo intm e nts o f hacks to impo rta nt o ffi ces. But he also kn ew th e "good o ld days" o f mac hin e rul e we re ove r. Hi s su ccess d e pe nd ed o n prese nting quali ty ca ndid ates, at leas t at th e top of th e ti cke t, a nd in co ntrolling th e ro ugh est ed ges o f wh at he liked to ca ll "th e orga niza ti on." While a few disre putab le candidates might sn ea k in as lowe rjudges, Daley pre fe rred to be associated with th e Do uglases , Stevensons, a nd

Ke nn ed ys fo r th e most visibl e nomin ations. Daley's uniqu e powe r rested in his co mbin ed rol e as th e city's hi gh est e lected offi cial a nd chairm an o f th e Cook County De mocratic Party. Thu s his popul arity discouraged even ambitious ri va ls, and his control of th e orga niza ti on virtuall y eliminated seri o us prim ari es. This co njunction o f publi c a nd party leade rship pe rmitted Richard Daley alm ost a qua rte r ce ntu ry o f dominion ove r Chi cago po liti cs a nd explain s th e lo ngevity o f th e Chi cago mac hin e. Just as importa nt to his success was th e mayor's kee n se nse o f th e limitati o ns o f his powe r in a compl ex metropo lis laced with minor baronies beyond his control. Parky Cull erton a nd Tom Kea ne, for exampl e, had th e ir own 17

'' 1-\c WAS AN HOHES-( M~'(OR, REMEM 0ER WI-\J\, HAPPEN ct> ---ro ~l M ! OoN', You <iEI At-l'{ 01G I DEAS

(J ( (

An avowed refonner who saw himself as a municipal administrator rather than a politician, Mayor Marlin H. Kennelly ( l947-55)frustmled the Democratic machine by his indifference to party interests. In this cartoon the Democratic "Bosses"zuam Richard Daley, thnnachine's choice to succeed Kennelly, ,wt to follow in his footsteps.

Chicago 1\11 achine constituencies immune to all but the courts. The organized business community was beyond reach but not accommodation, and Daley prided himself in keeping Chicago a "union town" and so enjoyed continuous labor support. He reduced his opposition to a predictable number of "independents," mostly from the lakefront wards; and even there his capacity to co-opt was respected. Yet, for all his power and shrewdness, Daley could not handle the most compelling issue of his time and his city-race. His problem was neither indifference nor bigotry, for he always believed tJ1at blacks were simply the newest ethnic group to be drawn to Chicago. As such, they would go through the same immigrant experience as their European predecessors. That experience in Chicago was clear. The newcomers gathered in the center city, discovered their numbers, somehow found jobs, and then dispersed to the pleasant residential areas beyond the urban interior. Irish , Gem1ans, [talians, Poles, and others could be found , even if in modest numbers, throughout the city and in the suburbs as proof of successful mobility. Though blacks did gather at the center and found a few jobs, they never moved their homes beyond the original settJements. Instead the ghetto simply oozed out, block after block, until the South and West sides of Chicago contained monolithic concentrations previously unknown in the city. The black ghetto, unlike the temporary immigrant ghetto, seemed increasingly permanent and therefore intolerable to its residents. Initially, Daley resorted to the old machine remedy-jobs. Indeed , some wh ite leaders complained that his appointments disoiminated against them. But postwar America bred a black middle class that expected more-equal opportunities for jobs in the private sector, open housing, and a larger share of elected officials and high appointments. Daley never grasped the complete ramifications of this demand. "Why don't they act like the Poles, Jews, Italians, and Germans?" he once asked quizzically. He never understood that because they hadn't been treated like earlier groups, a new approach was necessa1)'. Yet as flames ate through the West Side, as old black allies defected, and as a new black middle class continuously enlarged, he clung to what he con idered the American systemthe incorporation of all groups, no matter what race or religion , into the country's, and certainly Chicago's, metropolitan mainstream. But the acids

of the race question soon 'eroded the established Daley assumptions. Even before his death, this issue was eroding the machine's power. Within a few years of Daley's death , the machine faltered, and the elect.ion of anti-machine candidate Jane Byrne in 1979 leftdisarrayed debris. Ironically, and with no historical instincts, she tried to remold the organization around her tJ1rough old-fashioned patronage. The result was a re-election bid that defied even Chicago's flamboyant past. A threecandidate race in the Democratic primary resulted in a narrow victory for black candidate Harold Washington against the incumbent mayor and the son of Richard J. Daley. In a rare and nasty election white Republican Bernard Epton came within a few votes of defeating Washington. Chicago had its first black mayor. Washington's administration has been less than tranquil. White aldermen have girded themselves from tJ1e outset against the new reality, and untidiness has replaced Chicago's reputation for party discipline. New accommodations have become more important every day, and it is imperative tJiat all etJrnic and racial groups in tJie city come to understand that tJieir futures are bound up in cooperation rather than confrontation. If by chance this happened, an eastern journalist could return to New York from Chicago and announce, "I have seen tJie future, and it works." Illustrations 4, CHS, ICHi-19846; 6-7 top, CHS, ICHi-03820, Cads Hill Settlement House Collection; 6 bottom, CHS, ICHi-03847; 7 bottom , CHS, ICHi-03818, Gads Hill Settlement House Collection; 8-9 top, CHS, DN-62,263; 9 bottom, CHS, ICHi-20009; 10, CHS, ICHi-20005; 11 top, CHS, Becker negative; 9 bottom . CHS, ICHi-10927; 12, CHS, ICHi-19846; 15, CHS, ICHi-09233; 16, CHS, ICHi-05955; 17, CHS, ICHi-20008; 18, CHS, Prints and Photog1·aphs Collection .

For Further Reading More on cities, bosses, and machines can be found in James Q. Wi lson and Edward C. Banfield, City Politics (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press and the MIT Press, 1963); Harold Gosnell, Machine Politics: Chicago Model (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1937); Thomas M. Guterbock, Party and Community in Chicago (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1980). See also Ma1·k I. Gelfand, A Nation of Cities: The Federal GovPrnment and Urban America 1933- 1965 (New York: Oxford University Pres ·, 1975) and Ernest Griffith, A History of American City Government ( ew York: Praeger Publishers, Inc., 1974). 19

Samuel Insull and the Electric City By Harold L. Platt

"Here is an industry which supplies convenience and comforts to the day laborer which kings could not command half a century ago." Samuel Insult, 1928 ARRIVING IN CHICAGO at the time of the World's Columbian Exposition of 1893 was a young Englishman named Samuel Insull. The thirty-five-year-old immigrant had come to take over the fast-growing but troubled Chicago Edison Company. Insull aITived at an opportune moment because the exposition was revealing for the first time the potential of electricity to improve urban life. Visitors to the exposition were amazed by the seem ingly endless applications of electricity, which included whirring dynamos and motors, dancing fountains and spotlights, futuristic kitchens, powerboats, and an elevated railway. And "the wondrous enchanunent of the night illumination" was the most spectacular sight at the fair, which featured dazzling displays from all over the world. The widespread use of electricity at the wodd's fair underscored the dilemmas confronting Insull after he became president of the local Edison Company. The new energy source promised a better life for Americans through the triumph of technology over nature. Like the computers of recent years, electrical devices a century ago were almost mystical in their power to evoke visions of a future free of drudgery. Abundance and leisure would spread among all the people, fulfilling America's democratic ideals. However, electric supply companies were plagued by technological flaws that kept rates at luxury levels and distribution grids confined to only the most concentrated business districts. In fact, the White City's 100,000 incandescent bulbs, 20,000 decorative "glow lights," and 5,000 brilliant arc lamps were more than twice the lighting supplied by the Edison Company to the real city in the mid-nineties. To provide electricity for a majority of Chicagoans, Insull faced two problems. First, he had to create a technology to supply electricity cheaply

Harold L. Plall is associate professor of history at Loyola University of Chicago. 20

and efficiently to the average household. Second, he had to sell electrical energy to people who were enjoying lower-priced gas services. The story of Insull's solutions to these problems illusuÂˇa tcs how technology shaped Chicago's patterns of physical growth and social change. More than anyone else in the United States and Europe, Samuel Insull put electrical technology on a sound economic footing. During his first five years in Chicago, he emphasized the problems of supply, the ability of the utility company to bring energy to the consumer at a reasonable cost. In 1898 Insull combined promising technical innovations witl1 new economic concepts to formulate a plan for the "massing of production." In other words, Insull believed that large-scale generators would cut utility rates down to a point where everyone would use electricity instead of alternative sources of light, heat, and power. He boldly sponsored the construction of the world's first steam turbine generator station and turned the Commonwealth Edison Company into the nation's leading electric supply business. During the next decade, electric rates fell dramaticall y as Insull installed a unified network of large plants and distributor lines across the city. In 1911 Insull began building another generation of"superpower" generator stations and transmission lines to meet the growing demand for energy. By World War I, he had interconnected a 6,000-square-mile teITitory, creating a regional network of power. After 1898 lnsull devoted more time to the "engineering of selling." A study of his marketing strategy reveals how energy consumption affected changing styles of domestic architecture and the daily routines of the twentieth-century family. lb be sure, constantly falling rates, improved light bulbs, and more household appliances helped introduce electric service into Chicago's homes. But in developing a systematic sales campaign,

Chicago History, Spring 1986

Samuel lnsull (above) in 1894. the year after his arrival in Chicago. fnsull emeiged as a leading spokesman for the el,,ctrical industry in the 1890s. Photograph by Charles E. Smith. Previous page: Electric City Maga,ine was /mblished monthly beginning in 1901 by the advertising cl,,/1artment of C:omm.onwea/tlz Edison and distributed free to wstom.ers. The magazine, intended to sell the idea that electricity rould enhance the q,wlit)' of life, was /Jarl of the company's mass-marheting campaign.

Insull also strove to link electricity to notions of progress, modernity, and class status. Influential reformers of domestic life such as the Prairie School architects and home economics experts reinforced these ideas by extensively using electricity in their model plans. During the 1920s, city dwellers and suburbanites burned their lights longer and discovered new ways to consume energy. Electricity became an important feature of modern American life. New methods of refrigeration signifi cantly improved nutritional standards, and the radio helped change the routines of daily life while reshaping the popular culture of a region. By tl1e time of t11e Great Depression and Insull's fall from grace, Chicago had become an energyintensive society. Samuel Insull emerged in the 1890s as a leading spokesman for t11e electrical industry. Born in London, England, in 1859, he kept close ties to

Europe, where many of the most important advances in e lectrical technology originated. Starting as an office boy, the ambitious young man learned shorthand, landed a job at London's first Edison te lephone exchange, and in 1880 became Thomas Edison's personal secretary. The immigrant landed in 1ew York City just as the "Wizard" was perfecting his incandescent lighting system. At tl1e very center of the whirlwind, Insull learned t11e new industry from its top to its bottom, everytl1ing from making deals in t11c board rooms of Edison's financial backers to laying cables under the streets. In 1886 the rising young executive was sent to Schenectady, New York, to set up factories for Edison lighting equipment. Six years later Edison and tl1e rival Thomson-Houston Company merged; Insull became second-in-command of tl1e new General Electric Company. Armed witl1 his technical, financial, and manufacturing experience, he put his own name forward in 1892 to become chief executive of' the fledgling Chicago utility. After visiting the Dream City in 1893, he put its dramatic lessons to work in the real city. When Insull came to Chicago, electrical services were in a state of technological uncertainty and economic disan-ay. Altl1ough the Edison venture had inaugurated central station service in 1887, tl1e company faced stiff competition from other electric utilities as well as from its own isolated plants. A multitude o[ these small, inefficient generators illuminated about 75,000 bulbs in stores, hotels, and theaters, while Chicago Edison used two central stations at full capacity to power 50,000 lights. Two problems prevented tl1e central station from beating the competition with cheaper rates, making the continued proliferation of these small systems seem inevitable. The first great consuÂˇaint on the supply o[ electricity was t11e expense of a system of copper circuits, which limited the distribution area of an Edison station to a mileand-a-half radius and to the most concentrated sections of t11e city. Chicago Edison originally spent $200,000 to lay nineteen miles of copper wiring in t11e Loop, an investment equal to building and equipping its centra l station. The cost of copper prohibited the extension of services into t11e city's residential neighborhoods. In Edison's direct cun-ent (DC) system, electricity flowed one way around a circuit Its low voltage, or pressure, worked best with tl1e early lamps, bulbs, batteries, and motors, but it suffered high energy losses when

Electric City transmitted any distance. To offset these losses, the diameter of the expensive copper conduits had to be increased in the same way as a city's water mains might be enlarged. (As the pipes grow in diameter, more water can be pumped at a constant pressure to a distant point.) In DC systems the use of large copper wiring added dearly to utility rates. A second technical drawback of the central station kept the shoestring operators and isolated plants in business. The small generators and the steam engines that drove them minimized fuel savings and kept labor expenses above the cosl of operating isolated plants. Central stations were mere agglomerations of the same small-scale equipment sold to private individuals. Since many of Chicago's commercial and man u factu ring buildings already had steam boilers and engines for heat, hot water, and power, extra attachments such as dynamos for electric lighting cost little. Lacking reliable meters and other measuring devices, Chicago Edison had a hard time convincing consumers that the central station supplied the cheapest service. On the contrary, utility salesmen had to resort to offering secret discounts, free wiring schemes, and other incentives to lure potential customers away from buying their own isolated plants. Restricted distribution areas and small-scale equipment kept electrical e nergy a luxury item twenty years after its introduction. The high price of electricity explains why the new technology immediately became identified with class status, modernity, and urban life. In most respects, these images of urban elitism represented a continuing tradition of big-city leadership in culture and fashion. Regardless of cost, the exclusive hotels, shops, and homes were Lhe first to obtain the most up-to-date amenities. In the 1880s electricity became the new status symbol of the elite. Only Chicago's merchant princes and Edison Company directors john Doane and Marshall Field could afford Lo spend $7,000 ~o $8,000 fora complete isolated plant Lo illuminate their Prairie Avenue homes. The glittering lights of the world's fair reinforced the link between technology and progress, thus increasing the demands of city dwellers for electricity. The electrical system at the Columbian Exposition helped Insull solve his two technological problems. Although the General Electric Company's Tower of Light stole the show as the most

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Thomas Edison hired Sa11111RI lnsu.11 to be his personal fecrelruy in 1880. Dwing the 111':<1 decade, Insull learned lhe induslly of incandescent lighting fmm top lo bollom, gainrng exj,erience in lh.e leclmical, financial. and manujc,ctu.ring asperlf of lh.e business.

spectacular electrical industry exhibit, newcomer George Westinghouse supplied power to the fair. We tinghouse had shrewdly underbid the industry leader to give a practical demonstration of his alternating current (AC) system. Unlike the circular flow of DC, alternating current reversed its flow many times per second. Using transformers, AC could be increased to high voltage and transmitted efficiently at great distances over relatively thin wires to substations. Transformers would then

Chicago History, Spring 1986

,\bmie, u•1rkme,1 lay t'lectriral rnble widt'r a st,·,,et III the l.t111jJ, c. /9/JIJ. Left, 111bten-a11m11 luhes art' in,udlNI to can)' mjJ/Jt'r wmng lo e/Pctric c11s/01111' n 111 Ch1C11go 'I cm/ml bllli111<~1 di1t1icl 111 1899. '171P high cos/ of rojJ//PI; l11ml/'l•'r. prohibitl'd th,, exte11.1io11 of \1' 111/Cl'S mto tlu' nty '\ re.11dn1ti11I 11ei,rhborhood1 dimng this jJl'rwd.

red u ce Lh c vo lLage fo r local clistribuLi o n . AL th e fa ir, Westingho use used transformers and a second device, th e ro ta ry conve n e r, in La nde m to suppl y powe r fo r a wid e varie ty o f diffe re nt vo ltages and fo r AC and DC as we ll. lnve nled in 1888 by Cha rl e S. Bradl ey, the ro tary co nve n o r cha nged AC into DC, or Lh e reve rse. lnsull imm ed iaLe ly rea li1.ed th e po le ntial o f coupling Lransfo rm e rs a nd co nve n o rs LOgeth e r to create a uni versa l syste m of di sLribuLio n across the e ntire city. During Lh e next five years, h e built a hie ra rchi cal ne two rk with a new la rge gene rato r station , AC transmission lines, and seve ral substa ti o ns wh e re high vo ltages we re transform ed a nd con verted Lo se rve each distri ct. ow th aLInsull could pursue hi s dream for th e massing o f produ ctio n , he acquired every e lectri c company in th e city. By 1896 he contro lled , through Chi cago Ed ison, a ll the centr al stati o ns in th e city

Electric City

AboVP, a /Jower mill and dam m Alg11nqui11, llli11oi5, northwest of Chicago, c. 1890. This i11ri1â&#x20AC;˘/Jendent station s1,f1plied the co1111111mity wilh lighting J,,r its .5treel5 and ill commercial buil,lings. /Mow, Lhe North Shore /:'lectric Company station i11 Highland Park, c. 1906. This plant was part of lnsull :5 unified network of ce11/m/ slaliom which 111.pplied power lo lhe affluent ,\'or/It Shur, and othn Chimgvsuburbs begi1111ing around the tum of till' cmtwy.

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l nsull's philosophy that "low rates may mean good business'' marked a watershed in lwme flectrifiration beginning around 1898. H.esidmtia.l seroice ex/xmded during the first decade of the twtnliflh rmlw)â&#x20AC;˘fro111 a few thousand lo more tlwnfijty tlwmand huuselwlds, and the ,~seoj a/1pliances n1ch as irons, Jans, s1,wi11g machine motor.,, and hot /Jlatfs grew steadily.

Elertric City and all the patent rights to the manufacturers' equipment. These patent licenses put Insull one step ahead of the "grey wolves" in the city council who attempted to blackmail Chicago Edison into buying their paper creation, the Commonwealth Electric Company. Instead, the aldermen sold it and its valuable fifty-year franchise at a bargain price to lnsull after failing to obtain equipment to carry out their threatened competition. In l907 Insull consolidated his monopoly under this favorable grant as the Commonwealth Edison Company. Insull's international contacts informed the Chicago businessman about another recent invention that helped solve the problems of a smallscale technology. While visiting England in 1894, he discovered a meter that measured not only energy consumption but also peak demand. The "demand meter" offered an indirect albeit ingenious way to co1Telate consumer rates and utility costs. lnsull used the meter to restructure the company's rates from a flat charge per kilowatt hour to a two-tiered system. A customer's peak demand reflected his share of the utility's capital investment costs for facilities and equipment. Customers paid a fee based on this "readiness to serve," and a second fee for their energy consumption. The charge for each kilowatt of demand was the same for all customers; a sliding scale of rates gave discounts to large consumers. This system gave residential customers an immediate 30 percent rate cut. The demand meter alone did not directly result in the massing of production, but it helped Insull understand the economics of electrical technology. In 1898 he became the first utility operator in the United States to recognize that marketing strategy was more important than production technology. The use of the meter revealed that electric companies needed aggressive sales campaigns to attract a highly diverse range of customers. Especially desirable were those who used electricity during off-peak hours, such as all-night restaurants and ice makers. As Insull explained, the average workman "is unable to run a tool in the shop, go down in the elevator which takes him to the street, travel on a streetcar and use electric lights in his home all at the same time." Building the company's energy load by filling the daytime and evening valleys between the rush hour peaks kept otl1erwise idle equipment operating. It also reduced unit costs and increased stockholder dividends.

In l898 Insull's conclusion that "low rates may mean good business" marked a watershed in home electrification. The economics of consumption replaced the technology of production as the pivotal issue. He argued that "the way yo u sell the electric cunent has more bearing on costs and profits ... than whether you have the alternating or direct current system, or a more economical or less economical steam generating plant." For the next dozen years, Commonwealth Edison led the industry in marketing electricity at low rates while increasing it residential customers . [nsull' Âˇ reputation as a "system builder" derives from this period when he perfected the techniques of energy production and sales on a metropolitan scale. Residential service grew from a few thousand to more than fifty thousand households as rates fell steadily to half the original costs. Falling rates encouraged home consumers to burn their lights longer and to use appliances such as irons, fans, sewing machine motors, and hot plates. Frank Lloyd Wright and other Prairie School architects took advantage of electricity in their redesigns of the interior lighting and the kitchens of model suburban homes. Electiicity became a cultural symbol of modernity for tl1e Chicago-area middle class. Elimination of isolated plants helped provide cheap residential elecu-ic service for Chicagoans. After l898 lnsull concentrated on lowering rates for the single largest consumer of electricity, tl1e street and elevated railways. Accounting for nearly three-fourths of total consumption, the railway companies had generated their own power since the onset of rapid transit in Chicago in 1893. ln 1903 Insult secured a contract with the Chicago and Oak Park Railroad Company by offering them unbelievably low rates. Even selling power to the u-ansit fitms at cost, he could reap handsome profits from all his other business during off-peak hours. The contract helped lnsull finance the highly risky venture of building the world's first steam turbine generator station. The new technology, which is still in use today in both nuclear and fossil-fuel stations, made the large-scale generation of elecu-icity possible. During the next four years, lnsull signed similar contracts with all of the city's transit companies. Besides securing the transit contracts, the utility executive achieved similar success witl1 commercial enterprises. Since electric lighting had become identified with elite status and urbanity, nearly all

EIPCtrica/ applianus made a dif .ference in everyday lifP. lnsull's unified network created a market for companiPs like thP Duntley Mamifarturing Co. (c. 1912), makers of Duntley Pneumatic Cleaners (left), irons, and other electrical equipment. Above: The growing use of artificial refrigeration (c. 1920), both in the commercial sector and in the home, gave the average fa mily a wider selection of fi"esh foods at lower prices.

retailers, hotels, restaurants, clubs, and othe r places o f amuseme nt acquired mod e rn se rvices. Dist1Âˇibution lin es spread rapidl y alo ng trolley routes, which we re often located in neighborh ood business strips. To convin ce th e me rchant ske ptica l of higher costs, Insull bega n in 1906 to o ffe r a low-pri ced electri c light fixture with a clu ste r of new tungste n filam e nt bulbs th at produ ced three tim es more illumination th a n th e old on es. By 1911 electri c lighting had re pl aced gas in Chicago's busin esses. Th e in stall atio n o f e lec tri city in co mm e rcia l es ta bli shm e nts a lso h e lped to int ro du ce th e ho use ho ld er to th e adva ntages o f ce ntral sta ti o n se rvi ce. Th e stores gave C hi cagoa ns firsth a nd expe1Âˇie nce with th e adva ntages o f th e light bulb ove r th e gas jet a nd th e kerose ne la mp: electri city was brighte r, cl eane r, a nd less subj ect to fire or explosio n. lnsull used special in ce ntives in building his sophi sti cated a pproach to se lling electri city to residents. He offered th ese indu ceme nts to secure th e initial installa tio n, eve n at a sho rt-term loss to th e co mpa ny. C hi e f sa les ma n J o hn Gil christ explain ed: "Yo u must ge t him [th e prospective custome r] to use th e cune nt first, ge t him into a fa mili arity with the ad vantageo us points o f yo ur electri cal syste m, a nd you must d o it by a me th od that attracts him strongl y." Afte r th e house holder was hooked , or more prope rl y, hooked up, the famil y's in creasing use of lights and a ppliances wo uld become profitabl e for th e compa ny. In th e 1900s Insull a nd his lie ute na nts built a sales o rganization that transfonn ed this ma rketing strategy into a coordina ted mass-me rcha ndising

Electric City

l7JS11ll made the latest electrical a/>plianres aV<1ilablP to homeowners as part of his marketing slralelO' lo sell elPclric .wruirP. Tr;p, door-lo-door solirilon (c. 1925) 11Pmom1rated to residmtial r011swnen the laborsaving virlu.l'S of tlu,1e 11Pvices. Commonwealth r:dison's electric sho/JS. spread throughout the city (above), fi'alured a wriety of services and a/>plimu-es, inrluding rm eleclric kitchen (righl) and repair. paymmt, and light bulb replaremmt snv,a (above right).

Chicago Hi5lory, SjJring 1986 campaign. An advertising deparunent established in 1901 developed into a major enterprise of its own with daily newspaper appeals and a free publication called Electric City Magazine. The company also created a chain of fancy appliance stores, and it sent out a small army of door-to-door solicitors armed with free gi\'eaways. Readers of the daily press were told that ''A home without ELECTRIC LIGHT is like a coat without a lining-unfinished, incomplete." And in 1908 solicitors canvassed the neighborhoods to give 10,000 housewives the free use of G.E. irons for six months. Liberal installment plans stretched the cost of wiring the house and paying for the appliance over a two-year period. This kind of incentive, or"enteringwedge," as one solicitor called it, usually worked, "so that almost before the householder realized it, he is relying on electricity for his light and various other needs and wondering how he could have gone without it for so long." The industry's marketing experts used special psychological appeals in selling to women. A clo e examination of the El.ectrical Solicitor's Handbook, the salesman's bible, provides fascinating insights into sexist attitudes about housewives. To persuade the men, the 1909 training manual recommended the use of hard facts; but it suggested a "keeping-upwith-the-Joneses" approach to convince the women. "In interviewing the lady of the house ," it advised, it is a good plan to mention what her neighbors are doing, and so play upon her social pride, insinuating in a delicate way t.hat if they can afford it, she can. Explain holl' miss so-and-so has now a lovely electric kettle for her afternoon teas ... and declare she Âˇcould not live without it' ... .

Other strategists took this psychology of envy to its logical conclusion by proposing that women solicitors could better implant the seeds of desire in the housewife's heart than their male counterparts. "Then you know the result," a sale woman confided, "the new house has certainly got to be wired , and no further argument [to convince her husband] is necessary." lnsull's \'igorous campaign to wire the residential sections of Chicago extended into the suburbs. In the early 1890s small jerrybuilt companies had begun to supply these communities with evening service from dusk to 11:00 P.~t By 1902 the integration of the electric interurban lines along the affluent 1o rth Shore allowed Insull to test his system of supplying a diverse mix of energy

consumers from a unified network of efficient central stations. The social environment of the suburbs was ripe for the extensive application of electricity in the new homes erected by Prairie School architects. As Gwendolyn Wright observes in her study of these housing reformers, " ew domestic technology was central to the aesthetic and the cultural redefinition of the model home." Although the wiring of the suburbs was minimal in 1910, the electric home and kitchen were already well-established symbols of modernity to middleclass families. A year late1~lnsull prepared to fulfill their vision of the suburban idea l when he consolidated the five largest gas and electric companies outside the city into the Public Service Company of Northern Illinois (PSCNI). In building a regional network of power, Insull achieved his goal of supplying electricity to Chicago's homes. From 191 I to 1925, his perfected system of energy promotion grew into a persistent campaign spanning a 6,000-square-mile te1Titory. In the city, Commonwealth Edison's residential customers increased from 80,000 to 680,000, or about 93 percent of Chicago's families. In 1925 the average family was also consuming twice as much electricity as it had in 191 l. Irons and other appliances were commonly used, even in workingclass households. In the suburbs, the successful PSCNI provided elecnicity to almost 175,000 homes in 212 localities, in addition to gas service to 53 of the built-up suburbs close to the city. Electricity helped facilitate an exodus to the suburbs by supplying a level of modern convenience the middle class had come to expect in the city. Electric lines and poles also symbolized a better life for those who already had suburban homes, since gas ser\'ice was generally unavailable in these outlying communities. Increasing numbers of new homes were built with electrical wiring, while older hou. es were retrofitted. Subdividers had long since learned that extra amenities often enhanced the attractiveness and the value of their properties. Many owners of older homes initially feared installing new wires and fixtures, but these fears were calmed once workmen learned how to avoid desu-oying interior decorations. The PSCNI wired 600 older houses in 1910. This number Ry /9 JO the electric home and kitc/u>n were establi.,hed ~ymbols of

modemity lo middle-clas.1.ftn11ilies. Central to 1/,e Pmirie School architecL5" aesthetic and rultural red1f,11ition of the model home, electricity helped residenLs outside the otyfulfi/1 their VL5ion of the mburban ideal.

Electric City

Chicago History, Spring 1986

Central gpnPrr1ling slatiom, rnch as the Fi<k Street Station (ahove), WPre kry lo lnrnll's regional network ofpowe1: 17iis "invisible world "of enngy tranifonned Chicago:, /1hysical mviromnmt and the daily live1 of its cil1zens. The de<ire for belier lighting remained lhe greatest source rif demand for electriwl energy during the early par/ of lhe twenlielh century. Con,merc-ial buildings like lhe Congress Hotel (top), which were among lhe first in Chicago to be illuminated by eleclric-ity in lhe 1880s and 1890;, raised interior lighting stamumis, making people feel lhey were living in the dark. 1/, e1uourage homeowners lo have their houses wired for electricity (/,eft), Commonwealth Edison offered a two-year installmml plan to stretch out the cost of lhe wiring.

Hlectric City grew annuall y to 10,200 installations in L915, when the job of retrofitting was about half finished. For residents of both new and old houses, the desire for better lighting remained the greatest source of demand for electrical energy. Ironically, leaders in the gas industry were first to notice how the light bulb had sharply raised standards of interior lighting. The brilliant illumination of downtown stores and public places made people feel like they were living in the dark. These changing perceptions gave rise to the profession of the illuminating engineer, as well as a new style of domestic architecture. Frank Lloyd Wright best demonstrated the new sensitivity to light in his pra i1ie houses with their ribbons of art glass, picLUre windows, and indirect lighting fixtures. Although few could afford one of Wright's "city man's country houses," more and more Chicagoans considered home electric lighting a necessity of modern life. In 1912, for instance, the builders of working-class dwell ings used this argument in appeals to Insull for an economy lighting package. He responded by offering to wire these houses for $12, an additional fee of $2.50 for each outlet, and $1.75 to $6 for various lighting fixtures. In comparison, the cost of wiring more affluent dwellings ranged from 100 to $300. Household appliances were of secondary importance in the spread of electricity into the home. After 1911 G.E., Westinghouse, and other manufacturers created more mass-consumer products for cooking and cleaning. Lighting, however, still accounted for 85 percent of the electricity used in the average household of the mid-1920s. As late as 1927, the majority of homeowners used only the iron and the vacuum cleaner. The next two most popular appliances, the washing machine and the toaster, appeared in far fewer homes, 42 percent and 30 percent respectively. lnsull's empha i~ on appliances in advertising suggests that they were used primarily as an extra incentive to persuade the doubters to install service. Before World War I, _ads usually depicted appliances being used by servants, further suggesting the absence of a fully established mass market for these products. Although residential demand for electricity was usually limited to better lighting, the growth of all types of energy consumption profoundly affected the city and its inhabitants. The emergence of a highly diverse community of energy consumers on a regional scale was a powerful influence on

the physical growth of the city. After 1910 housing surveys of' Chicago show two outstanding trends: the coming of high-rise apartments in the center and the spread of bungalow-stvle houses at the periphery. The architecture of the skyscraper relied on electricity for elevator and utility services as well as for construction. While aff:luenl urbanites sought the fashionable life as cliff dwellers, bluecollar workers pursued the more traditional dream of owning a single family house. As the trolley lines opened up cheaper land at the city's edge, the subsequent boom in construction replaced the worker's cottage with the bungalow. On a smaller scale, it incorporated many of the design innovations of the Prairie School architects, including more windows, modern kitchens, and the replacement of the parlor with the living room. The bungalow boom of the twenties suggests that the process of suburbanization was not confined entirely to areas beyond city borders. In these outlying communities, Insull's regional network of power helped move people and businesses out of the congested metropolitan core. Cheap rapid transportation carried the masses to homes, shops, and factories now supplied with levels of light, heat, and power previously found only in the central city. During the 1920s the use of more energy narrowed the differences between the city and the suburbs in the delivery of modern services. The rich had long used servants to elevate domestic life in the country from rural squalor to city-like comfort. Middle-class residents who could not afford servants found a technological substitute in elecnicity. Electrical services thus encouraged suburbanization by providing the comforts of the city while retaining the advantages of tl1e country. Besides helping Chicago to grow, increasing energy use significantly affected the dai ly routines of its residents. From 1909 to 1919, for example, the per capita consumption of electricity increased by 171 percent. An "invisible world" of energy was emerging, a world we take for granted today. In the new-style home of this period, electrical appliances acted as modernizing agents that fulfilled cultural ideals of scientific management and home economics. Advertising genius Bruce Barton expressed his faith in technology as the engine of progress in newspapers, promising that the home of the future will lay all of its tiresome, routine burdens on the shoulders of electrical machines, freeing mothers for their real work, which is motherhood.

October>~ 1912

)

-..._____ _

:DEAN ~ORNWEL l-oo- ----'-" G=>Hy /923 Samuel lnsu/1 would bowl Iha! Âˇ'ther<' is 110 city in !he world, with lhe pofmlatio11 of th,, city of Chicago, thal ha; any ,uch t111101111/ of e11f'lgy being rfotributed at this time. " The new nU'rg)'-i11/msive life Chicagoan\ had begun to live in the /9OOs and /9/01 rf'.mlled i11 i11omsed elPCtric co11s11mptio11 roe,)' year until the oil embargo of the mid-!97Os.

Electric City The mothers of the future will live Lo a good old age and keep their youth and beauty to the end. Recent studies by Ruth S. Cowan and other historians seriously question whether machines really liberated the housewife. She argues that they simply added new shackles by creating higher standards of house cleaning and mothering, as Barton's advertisement unintentionally suggests. Yet Cowan does not deny that electrical devices removed much of the physical drudgery from housework. The effects of electrification on the lives of Chicagoans were often subtle, barely noticeable changes that gradually transformed domestic routines into an energy-intensive style of life. Perhaps the best examp le of this influence was the growing use of artificial refrigeration. It was applied to every step in the commercial food chain, including transporting fresh meat and produce, cold storage and processing plants, newstyle "supermarkets" with self-serve refrigerator units, and home iceboxes. Making a wider selection of fresh foods available at lower prices, the use of energy changed the diets and the nutritional standards of the average family. The phenomenal success of the radio during the late 1920s shows that Chicagoans had become dependent on elecn;city to maintain a new energyintensive life. Of course, the link between electric consumption, technology, and leisure activities had formed decades before with the lighting of downtown theaters, the rise of amusement parks, and the spread of motion picture palaces throughout the metropolitan area . But the radio brought this new world of urban popular culture into the home. Perfected during World War I, the radio became a mass-consumer item in 1923 when commercial production began in earnest. Two years late1~ nightly network programs were changing the rhythms of everyday life. Insull remarked that "the widespread use of radio receiving sets is ... a factor in the increased use of electricity for residential lighting." In 1930 the radio became Chicago's most popular home appliance, surpassing the iron in only even years. A 1934 survey of local utility custome1-s confirmed that 94 percent had a radio receiving set. During the 1920s, the growing demand for energy became so powerful that even the Great Depression failed to halt the increase of residential consumption. Despite the economic crisis, the average Chicagoan continued to use more electricity in 0

the home, setting yearly records until the oil embargo of the mid-1970s. In contrast, electric consumption by industry and commerce closely followed general economic trends. These patterns reflect the pervasive influence of energy on the city. By 1930 economic activity and employment had become inseparably linked with electricpowered mechanical technologies. In the home, shop, and factory, Chicagoans had created a world based on the intensive use of energy. While the Great Depression did not inten-upt the growth of energy consumption in the home, it ended Sam Insull's career as the world's greatest salesman of electricity. His prominence during the business boom of the 1920s made him the perfect scapegoat for its collapse in the 1930s, especially after his pyramid of holding companies came crashing down like a house of cards. In 1932 Franklin D. Roosevelt campaigned against"lshmaels and Insulls," and the president's men soon levied charges of fraud against the aging utility executive, forcing him to flee the country. Hunted down and brought back to face federal and state indictments, Insull easily won acquittals from ju1ies after taking the stand in his own defense. He had made some terrible mistakes in attempting to maintain absolute control of his utility empire through stock manipulations, but he was no crook. To the contrary, lnsull the system builder had made many contributions to Chicago and its people. Illustrations Unless 01henvise noted, photographs are courtesy of the Historical Archives of the Commonwealth Edison Company. 22, CHS, IC Hi- 13723; 23. from Central Station Electric Snvice (1915), CHS Library; 28 left., CHS Archives and J\lanuscripts Collection; 32 top, CHS, ICHi-1561 I; 32 bouom left, CHS, lCHi-200 IO; 32 bouom right, from Central Station Electric Service, CHS Library. For Further Reading for more on lnsull, see Fo1Test McDonald, lnsull (Chicago: The Uni\'ersity of Chicago Press, 1962). Works that explore the impact of electrification on society include Henry Adams, "The Virgin and the Dynamo" in The Education of Henry Adams (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1961); Ruth Schwanz Cowan, 1\/ore Work for Mothn: The Ironies of Household 1echnologyfrom thP Open Hearth to the Microwave (New York: Basic Book , lnc., 1983); Thomas P. Hugh es, Nelw:)r/i.5 of Power: El.ectrification in Western Society (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press. 1983); and Gwendolyn Wright, M oralisrn and the Mode/ Horne: Domestic ArchitecturP and Cultural Conflict in Chicago, 1873-1913 (Chicago: The Uni\'ersity of Chicago Press, 1980). 35

Sincerely, Louis H. Sullivan

During 1923 and 1924 Louis H. Sullivan and Charles H. Whitaker. editor of the Journal of the American Institute of Architects and its press, corresponded regularly, someti mes twice a day, about the monthly seria 1ization of The Autobiography of an Idea in the Journal and its publication as a book. It is a remarkable collection of letters between an editor and author. and it offers fresh insights into this important book and the men who made it happen . The letters that appear on the following pages narrate the creation of Sullivan's autobiography: they trace it through its conception , planning, writing. editing, and production Excerpts from the Autobiography are interspersed among the letters to give them a broader context. One of America's most celebrated architects. Sullivan was also the most prolific writer of his profession during the late ninteenth and early twentieth centuries. From 1882 to 1924 he authored more than a hundred articles and addresses. He had no plans for an autobiography when he agreed in 1921 to write for the AIA's Journal But as the idea for such a work began to take shape, bot.h Sullivan and Whitaker immediately recognized itas a way to give dramatic focus and human perspective 36

to Sullivan's philosophy of architecture. Sullivan's motives for undertaking the work were born of both pride and necessity. The 1921 publication of a biography of Daniel H. Burnham , Sullivan's rival. surely prompted him to tell his own life story si nee no biographer was forthcoming. His precarious financial condition also made t.he venture attractive. Design commissions had steadily declined in scale and number since the tum o ft.he century, forcing Sullivan to borrow heavily from friends over the years just to make ends meet. By the I920s writing was one of the few avenues left open to him to express his philosophy and earn an income. The $100 Whitaker paid Sullivan fo r each chapter published in the Journal provided him with financial security and some comfort during the last two years of hi s life. To co mplete the chapters on time. Sullivan set an exhausting pace for himself. working evenings on the Autobiography and during the day on another major projecta set of twenty drawings summarizing his philosophy of ornament commissioned by The Art Institute of Chicago's Burnham Library and later published by the AIA Press as A System of Architectural Ornament

According with a Philosophy of Man's Powers.

Throughout. Sullivan was fortunate to have Whitaker as his editor. for he proved to be a friend and enthusiastic supporter Without the initial interest and continued help and encouragement from Whitaker. one wonders how far these projects would have gone Whitaker shared Sullivan·s contempt for the popular historically derived architectural style and believed only someone of Sullivan's stature could turn the tide against contemporary American architecture. To this end . he gave Sullivan free license. While some readers have criticized the Autobiography for dwelling too long on the childhood years and for ending in 1893. Whitaker always thought of it as literature rather than biography. The poetic prose and missing facts that have baffled and frustrated historians seeking insights into Sullivan's life did not bother Whitaker He was proud to have been part of such a great work. This selection of correspondence ends with a letter from N. Max Dunning (a Chicago architect and member of the AJA board) to Sidney Adler (Dankmar·s son) describing the tragic circumstances of Sullivan's last few weeks before he died on April 14. 1924 Suffering from partial paralysis and a heart condition. Sullivan enjoyed one final moment of happiness when he held in his hands the last two great works of his life. The Autobiography of an Idea and A

System of Ornament.

The letters are arranged chronologically. All idiosyncrasies. errors. and omissions in the 38

original letters are retained herein. References to payments. royalties. events. and individuals when the context is unknown . corrections of proof. and discussions of the drawings and production of the plates have been omitted due to space limitations and to give a narrative flow to this selection. All of Sullivan's letters are handwritten. Whitaker's letters are typewritten with the exception of January 16. 1922. and January 17. 1923 . which are handwritten: N. Max Dunning·s letter to Sidney Adler is typescript. Sullivan's letters of January 28. January 30. February 2. and March 18. 1922: and Whitaker's letters of January 17. January 31 . February 2. June 16. July I. September 22 . 1922. and January 16. June 5. June 15 . July 13. July 30. September 26. December 3. and December 10. 1923 . are reproduced here courtesy of The Art Institute of Chicago. All other letters and excerpts from The Autobiography of an Idea are reproduced with permission of the American Institute of Architects Archives. Washington. D.C Readers interested in pursuing this correspondence further should consult holdings RG 804 SR5 of the AJA Archives The editors wish to thank Mary Wooleverofthe Burnham Library at the Art Institute and Tony P Wrenn of the American Institute of Architects Archives. whose support and assistance made publication of these letters possible Louis H. Sullivan's signature appears as tne motif neading for tnis article.

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Drawing of Andrew Re&ori by Theodore Keane. from Friendly Libels. 1924 . CHS Library J

To Mr C. H Whitaker. New York City Jan 5th 1922 Dear Mr Whitaker ..As to your suggestion that I write a series of articles for the "Journal": it is welcome: but my mind is not clear as to the nature of the subject to be written about-the titles as it were. I will appreciate it if you will kindly make suggestions in this regard for I cannot write at random .. I greatly enjoyed your visit and was under the impression that you were to return here shortly after New Years. I had the manuscript of the "Kindergarten Chats" ready for you to read . but you seem to have changed your program. Sincerely and cordially. Louis H. Sullivan

Jan 14th 1922 Dear Mr Whitaker As I have not heard from you in reply to my prior letter I fancy you have been out of town. In a talk I had with Andy Rebori !Chicago architect and senior partner in Rebori, Wentworth , Dewey, Incl a few evenings since, I brought up the subject of articles desired by you for the "Journal ", and stated that my mind was a curious blank in regard to subjects for miscellaneous articles. as said mind was accustomed only to the idea of a developed thesis. After some miscellaneous discussion he said "why don't you write your autobiography1 That would be very interesting'.' I demurred , saying "Andy, my ego isn't built on that line I am neither vain nor modest!" I Andy argued quite eloquently and after a while I got a · flash " to the effect that such an autobiography might prove. or be made, an extremely effective medium , in which to carry the vague beginning, the gradual development and the eventual form of my philosophy of architecture. This thought aroused my emotional interest (hitherto lacking) and supplied a dominant idea upon which I could concentrate steadily and about which I could weave a most interesting story of a human trusting to his instincts (a rara avis) The story would lend itself to a free, easy literary treatment without egotism and without pedantry. Then the plot of sticking to one impulse and idea from the beginning

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Plate 15 from A System of Architectural Ornament According with a Philosophy of Man·s Powers. by Louis H. Sullivan . 1922 Courtesy of the Collection of The Art Institute of Chicago throughout a long intellectual and emotional life has in it the element of drama. As my memory runs back to my second year you may see that it is a long stretch. At 14 I have fully determined to be an architect When I look back upon the incessant hard work I have done and the sacrifice I have madewith one end in view, I feel. alas, that the young student of today is not capable of it: unless he be given a definite, positive, stimulus, a definiteobjective:a star of destiny so to speak It

is precisely this human element that I would cause to permeate the work and radiate from it I spoke briefly of the matter to Geo C Nimmons !architect and fellow of the AIAI today, He is to see you shortly in the east I wish you would discuss the matter with him and let me know, atan early date, what you think of the suggestion. Sincerely Louis H. Sullivan The story I think would require 12 issues-or one year LHS lin margin!

January 17. 1922. Dear Mr Sullivan. How can I escape believing in psychic phenomena-in telepathy-what you will? I have been confined to the house for a week or more. not up to much. but with my head going at forty miles a minute all the time-and the idea came to me over and over again that what you ought to write was the story of your life as you looked back upon it. No single thing I can think of could be more interesting, because. to me. no single thing is more interesting than the real story of a life. I can only say Hurrah! It is what I mean to write of my own life. some day. for it too has been a battle and a strugglenot yet over I am glad to sayand I have long realized that only in the telling of my own experience could I lay bare the philosophy that I have developed. or at least the basis of my philosophical attitude toward men and things ... In the meantime. to use the ancient locution of the devout I feel as though my prayer had been answered . But I am sure that you have hit the one idea-and that it will be as serviceable to others as it will be to yourself. Cordially-and heartfullyC. H. Whitaker

Plate 17 from A System of Architectural Ornament by Louis H. Sullivan . Courtesy of tfte Collection of Tfte Art In stitute of Chicago.

Jan 28th 1922 Dear Mr Whitaker Had a sit down with Geo. Nimmons and Max Dunning IChicago architect and memberoftheAIA National Board of Directors! on their return Monday. Was grateful when told the entire board unanimously desired the autobiography and that I was to go ahead with it. Since then have been turning the matter over and over in my head before writing to you in answer to your Jan 17th. Had a few minutes talk with Max today Said he had written you to send

me $100 on a/cjaccountcurrentl immediately and to have regular payments follow on production of articles. which I shall send you as I turn them out. We agreed to draw up a written memorandum for the files of the Board . I want to start on the work right away. So must have some definite information from . First of all how many words would or could you print(of my stuff) in a single issue of the Journal What would be the range-would 3000 words be too many or too few? 2nd. I cannot yet determine on the final bulk of the work. It

all depends on the treatment may it overrun 12 issues? If you think it better to have 12 issues of 3000 words. this would make a bookof36000words. My own idea is about 3000 words per article and letthe work develop itself. and conduce in its proper form. But I want your judgment and advise on this as I must predetermine the scale upon which the work is to be written. Kindly answer at your very early convenience. I am proposing to write the work in the third person as the method seems to offer greater literary freedom. I have mentioned the undertaking to a numberoftrustworthy friends. and they hail the idea with enthusiasm. You will. I know be pleased to learn that I have concluded arrangements with the Burnham Library Board forthe 20sheets of drawings illustrating my system of ornament I have just concluded a written prelude to the work which is a novelty in its way. Wish to write you further but have no time running to day Sincerely Louis H. Sullivan Jan 30th 1922 Dear Mr. Whitaker: , ... I have thought intensely about the biography ever since the matter came to a focus . The line of and ... J?J and the general method of handling have become clear and fluent It is

the matter of BULK that looms in my path: How to determine it and control it in advance for the work should have scale and proportion Hence my letter to you dates Friday My mind operates in such wise that I must see the end at the beginningthat is I must see the subject whole. so that I may attest its parts in due relation to each other. As I propose to begin the narrative with my 2nd year. when I first began to receive lasting impressions. up basically to the present time. and as some thoughts were quick in forming. others of very slow growth I desire your help in arriving ata basis For instance. my Paris experience and my reaction to French culture could not possibly be crammed into a 3000-word article; still less my experience at my winter house on Biloxi Bay:-a high-power subjective experience. So what shall we do Confine the subject arbitrarily to 12 issues. or let it run a natural course. (during which the basic idea will be developed). until it reaches a spontaneous conclusion. It is on such matters that I wish your immediate advice I wish to do the work concurrently with the Burnham Library work. A copy of each first draft of the articles to be placed in your hands. successively as they are produced Do not announce the event for a while. as I wish a reasonable start. and. above all I wish to start right . Sincerely Louis H. Sullivan

Jan 31 1922 . Dear Mr. Sullivan Your letter of the 28th at hand this morning By this time Mr. Dunning should already have handed you our check for $100. and we on our part undertake to send you a check for $100 on the 15th of each month until your work is concluded .... I am pleased to know of the drawings you are to make for the Burnham Library If they are to be reproduced . as I think they very likely will be I hope that arrangements can be made. so that it can be done under the auspices of the Institute. and therefore by the Press of the Institute. Yours sincerely. CH Whitaker Feb 2. 1922 Dear Mr Sullivan: I have your letter of the 30th. and I imagine it crossed mine of the same date. for I wrote you at length in respect to your plan . and the number of words. Of course there will have to be some reasonable limit. but as I said in my letter I do not see why it cannot run through 14 or 15 issues. as well as 12. I think I must have convinced you that I do not like arbitrary restrictions. The job is to be well and properly done. and none of us at this moment could possibly say what it would take. I think very likely this question will resolve itself as you get started. and we might then agree that 41

Feb. 4. 1922 It is a close surmise that what actually passed in the child's mind, aside from the romance, was a budding sense of orderly power. Indeed , the rhythm of it all! And then, to the wondering child, there began the dawn of a wonder-world .... JChapter I. pp. 17-181 The child was not an enfanl terrible; he was, rather, an independent. isolated compound of fury, curiosity and tenderness. Subtle indeed were the currents flowing and mingling within him . embryonic passions arising and shaping, ambitions vaguely stirring; while his sharp eyes saw everything .... JChapter II , p. 271 ... surely this child that went forth every day became part of sunrise even as this sunrise became forevermore part of him . !Chapter IV: p. 611

cuts might or might not be justifiable I do not see how we can possibly do better than to plan the work carefully and conscientiously, and then go ahead. One difficulty would be that if the articles ran to too great a length that would make a bulky book. unless we reset the whole thing. and that would mean considerable financial outlay, You are enough of a planner. I would think. to plot out the material by periods. perhaps. and then allot to each period its integer of importance. Maybe in this way you can get a pretty clear view of the end if you will look at it from the beginning. We shall make no announcement at the present time. and as soon as you have gone far enough to reach any opinion I will arrange to meet with you and have a talk. I had hoped to be in Chicago some time this

month . but I am so beset with publication plans and problems just now I do not know whether I can get away Yours. CH . W Feb. 2nd . 1922 Dear Mr. Whitaker Your letter of the 31st Jan . clarifies things beautifully Our thoughts seem to run in parallel time. I shall start on the work very soon , as I am anxious to get it moving. No fear of side tracks. The entire purpose of the work is to set forth . as interestingly as may be. the instructive beginnings, the slow awakening. the coming into conscious. and the steady growth to maturity of an IDEA! The curious whys and wherefores of it all-the various influences-acting and reacting with the congenital character ... Sincerely Louis H. Sullivan

My dear Whitaker I have yours o f Feb 1st and Feb 2d. Our minds are going nicely in double harness. "To lay out or plot out the material by periods. and then allot to each period its integer of importance" is exactly what I have in mind as the broad plan The detailed proportioning of these periods will be carefully adjusted but will overlap and coalesce in effect into one story There will positivelyoe no "padding:Âˇ I want the story to be that of a human being-notofa poseur. This kind oflayoutworKillave been doing in the back of my head for some time-as is my customary method. Dismiss any apprehensions of a bulky book. I have pursued this method in connection with the Burnham Library plates. I felt that the graphic-work to have the greater value must be founded securely on philosophic prelude outlining man and his powers: and the ideas of the prelude carried out into the series of plates by means of notations. I have now finished 2 plates and feel that I have sure firm grip on the undertaking In the Biography the infant Child will be the prelude. Have not thought of a title. would like suggestions. Have asked postponement of notice until I feel that I have an equally sure grip on my subject. It will not be long. Sincerely Louis H. Sullivan

2/13/22 1130 p.m. Dear Mr Whitaker Justa line to let you know that I am more than half-way through with Chapter I-cal led "The Wonder Child" and that the whole idea of the story is rounding out before my vision. The present chapter has proved very laborious in preparation not only in determining its due proportion to the whole. but in determining proportions within itself and digging the facts out of the mind of my memory The second chapter will be headed by the first line of Whitman's poem "There was a child went torth every day .. So to a general title of the work. I have not had time to think of it It will come suddenly I suppose. What about illustrations? Do you desire them? I have a fine daguerreotype of my mother and her two sons taken when I was 3 yrs old ; a rather faded stereoscopic picture of the farm house at Wakefield . and the original ticket by which my father sailed from London to Boston. If used . I think they should be placed in the middle of the page Also a drawing made by my mother in 1849 (she 14 yrs) of the house in Geneva . with her mother's notation on the back. Trust you are not ill. I have finished Plate #3 of the Burnham Âˇ Library and have #4 blocked out Drop me a line: Sincerely Louis H. Sullivan

Drawing by Louis H. Sullivan . 1867 Courtesy of Tfie Art Institute of Chicago

3/18/ 22 Dear Mr. Whitaker The cheque $100 on a/c arrived today Chapter 3 is in the hands of the typist and will

soon be forwarded. I found the work rather exhausting, as it is rather high pitched and the child passes his first crisis.

-13

Thus there gradually arose within his consciousness a clearing sense of what a city meant objectively as a solid conglomerate of diverse and more or less intricate activities. He began indeed to sense the city as a power-unknown to him before-a power new-risen above his horizon ; a power that extended the range and amplified the content of his own child-dream of power as he had seen it manifested in the open within the splendid rhythm of the march of the seasons. Nevertheless. he saw, in his boy-way, and felt it strongly, a great mysterious contrast between the two. In the open all was free , expansive and luminous. In the city all was contraction , density, limitation , and a cruel concentration . He felt that between himself and the city. as such, lay a harsh antagonism that seemed forever insoluble: as though men had made the city when they were mad: and that as it grew under their hands it had mastered and confined them . IChapterVI. p 1021 "Yes? and what is an archeetec, the owner? " "Naw; he's the man what drawed the plans for this building:Âˇ "What! What's that you say: drawed the plans for this building?" "Sure. He lays out the rooms on paper, then makes a picture of the front. and we do the work under our own boss. but the archeetec's the boss of everybody:Âˇ Louis was amazed .... So he asked the man how the architect made the outside of the temple and the man said : "Why, he made it out of his head : and he had books besides." The "books besides" repelled Louis: anybody could do that; but the "made it out of his head " fascinated him . How could a man make so beautiful a building out of his head? What a great man he must be: what a wonderful man . Then and there Louis made up his mind to become an architect and make beautiful buildings "out of his head ." !Chapter VII. p . 118-191

As to Chap I I have just read it over. I believe the simple solution is to cut out th e word "wonder" wh erever it occurs in connection with th e word ch ild. Thi s would change the chapter title to: Th e Child. I full y appreciate and understand your objection to the word . inasmuch as several chapters must be read before the word takes on real sign ificance. I am making some notations regarding Chap I which 44

I will send on to you shortly. Sincerely, Louis H. Sul li van March 21st 1922 Dear Mr Whitaker I mail ed you this day. your copy of Chap #3 . It run s. so I estimate it. 5250 words. I trust you will receive it in good order. and give me you r opinion of it.

I will now. for a change. resume work on the plates. I find . in consulting the record . that during the past 40 calendar days I have turned out 3 chapte rs of the book and 3 plates for the Burnham Library This explains my fatigue at times You ma y think perhaps that I am giving too much space to the ch ild aspect of the work. But I have a very definite reason for so doing which will appea r as the wo rk unfolds I am not merely writing a story as such. I am engaged in the logica l development of a thesis. of wide import. as I believe I am now merely arra nging the premises. but I wish also to keep the whole story human .... I am sincerely your wellwisher Louis H. Sullivan April 2nd 1922 My dear Whitaker Last night I mailed to you. fi rst cla ss postage. Chapter I. rev ised and co rrected. In lookin g it over. I found the tone a bit too co lloquial. and put a little more Engli sh into it. Chap I is in its nature episodic since we have abandoned the "wonder-child " idea which held it together-giving it an atmosphere. It might be worth while someti me to re-write it-definitely reshaping it o n th e "Child " basis. but not now. I am too busy Sincerely Louis H. Sullivan

4/ 5/ 22

Dear Whitaker I finished Plate #8 on time. Have had a day's rest This p.m. and evening I have written 1000 word s on Chapter 4-entitled "A Vacation :Âˇ If I am nottoo much interrupted will have it in your hand by the 15th. My program is to work on the Autobiog until late at night and sleep long the following morning. It is now just passed midnight Hence my brevity

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Sincerely, Louis H. Sullivan April 19th. 1922 My dear Whitaker: I rec'd the cheque of $100 a/c the autobiography at noon today At 2:45 I mailed to you at the central PO. Chap 4 fully revised . In a publication sense it is perhaps too long; in a timeand-work sense it is much too long: in a structural formative sense it is too short But I felt it incumbent on me to draw to a close, in this chapter. the first important period of the child 's life-experience. In beginning the chapter I had in mind that toward the end I would develop in full detail. the "plowing" scene. I foresaw it provided a golden opportunity to make a clear and complete statement: a moving. colorful, sounding word-picture of how the child formed his images without any conscious use of his intellect, without any consciousness that he was

Drawing of a plant by Louis H. Sullivan , 1876 Courtesy of Michigan Historical Collection s, Bentley Historical Library, University of Michigan .

forming images: with the sole consciousness that he was alone and that there was life about him. When I came to the matter however. I found it would require from 1000 to 1500 words. So I was forced to let the episode pass with a brief sketch. And so also of the "Foundry" scene in which I wished to set

forth the child 's acute ability to follow delicate technical manipulation-also unconsciously And so also of Julia's Irish fairy tales. There was no way of splitting the chapter so I have to let it go as it is-trusting to some future opportunity.

By the end of the school year Moses Woolson through genius as a teacher, had turned a crudely promising boy into, so to speak, a mental athlete. He had brought order out of disorder. definition out of what was vague, superb alertness out of mere boyish ardor: had nurtured and concentrated all that was best in the boy: had made him consciously courageous and independent: and focused his powers of thought. feeling and action : had confirmed Louis's love of the great out of doors, as a source of inspiration : and had climaxed all by parting a great veil which opened to the view of this same boy, the wonderland of Poetry. !Chapter IX, p. 1681 It was then John A. Tompson , he of the precise , the articulate , the exact. the meticulous, the hard intelligence-who bit by bit led Louis on. He dispelled for him the music-world of enchantment wherein simple faith had seen the true substance and value of results: he substituting therefor a world of fact and technique. It was all subtly done, bit by bit. The first effect of this was to arouse in Louis a new interest-an interest in technique-in the how .... Jp. 1771 That the danger was that music might become enslaved to the intellect and might nevermore be free. For as he began to see the full bulk of the mechanics, the mechanisms, and the tyranny of rules he became alarmed that music might die. For he could not yet see that here also. spite of names, the mystery, the enchantment would live on even though it be in winter sleep, and, at imagination's rousing call. again and again would renew its onward flow of rejuvenescence, and thus retain its magic power to stir the heart. !Chapter X, p. 1781

In Chap 5 entitled "Newburyport" the child for the first time glimpses the big world. Cordially, Louis H. Sullivan June 16, 1922. Dear Sullivan: In the midst of the unparalleled turmoil which accompanies every annual I must write to tell you of the numerous expressions of appreciation that we have so far had of your first chapter.

Likewise let me say that I have again read the succeeding four chapters. and I realize emphatically the plan on which you are working. Except for certain minor corrections of spelling I wouldn't change a line .. Yours very truly, CH . W. June 26th . 1922 Dear Whitaker, Just a word to say that Chap 6 is now on its second typing and will soon be in you r hands. I believe it will interest you , not only for itse lf but as

explanatory of the 5 chapters preceding it. and as the beginning of a "turning movement" (as military men would say) The chapter covers a period of about 5 years, which is broadly sketched. In Chapter 7 will come a sha rpening in definition , and in it I propose to cover the boys experiences in the Rice Grammar School. and his one year in the English High School. The narrative is now setting forth the most critica l period in the boy's ca reer. At the end of Chap 7 he will be 16 and ready to enter"Tech'l MITI .. The enclosed may interest you. Kindly return it. My friends here in the club IThe Cliff Dwellers! are saying pleasant things about Chap. I-notably some of the professional writers. Sincerely, Louis H. Sul livan Enclosure PS. I may later on have occasion to refer to my friend Carter's reference to " mighty good English ". and your proof-readers big-hearted willingness to help make it such.As itis I am curious to know through what avenue of information said proof reader came to learn that my father was "a n enthusiast regarding hygiene", whereas I had described him as "a crank on hygiene" I am still under the impression that I knew my father pretty well. The club cat is now occupying all of this sheet but the bottom . So I will say au revoir. LHS

I return Carter's letter and thank you for sending iton. We. too. are having numerous expressions of appreciation of your work, and I am already at work in laying it out in book form . for we wish to publish it just as soon as the last installment has appeared in the JOURNAL I am taking Chapter 6 home for the G.F IFourth of July?j the same of which thank God we don't have any where I live in the forest primeval Thine. CHW July 17th-1922

Photograph of Louis H. Sullivan at age 15 , 187 1or 1872 Courtes y of The Art Institute of Chicago. I July, 1922. Dear Sullivan, I'm damned if I know who changed your father from an crank to an enthusiast but I suspect Rosalie Goodyear. who is now in the hospital. but whom you would instantly forgive for she is a passionate admirer of your tale. a real Whitmanite. and worked with Horace Traube! Ipublisher and editor and authorofseveral books on Walt

Whitman I for a long time. When she is recovered we will tackle the mystery, I generally leave things to her. but there were orders that your Mss. was not to be touched except for manifest inaccuracies in spelling ortypographical errors. So you must be lenient with us for a moment Rosalie does things, some things, for reasons only known to womankind 1

Dear Whitaker: I could not begin Chap #7 before I had read some official matter from the School Committee of the City of Boston. This I now have. Meanwhile I had started on Plate# 14 of the Burnham Librar; Series. This I expect to finish tomorrow Then I can turn my attention to literature and stick to it If I have good luck, that is if I don't have too many interruptions, and delays in typing, I hope to get Chap #7 in your hands by the end of the month .. I am anxious to have your impression of Chap 6 which covers a very important turning point and is a preparation for Chap 7 Of course you don't know just where I am driving from Chap to Chap, but Chap 7 will cover a transition period of importance. Glad to hear you are already working on the book form .

Next morning he was utterly amazed and bewildered at the sight of the prairies of northern Indiana . They were startling in novelty. How could such things be! Stretching like a floor to the far horizon ,- not a tree except by a watercourse or on a solitary "island :Âˇ It was amazing. Here was power-power greater than the mountains. Soon Louis caught glimpses of a great lake, spreading also like a floor to the far horizon, superbly beautiful in color: under a lucent sky. Here again was power: naked power: naked as the prairies, greater than the mountains. And over all spanned the dome of the sky, resting on the rim of the horizon far away on all sides. eternally calm overhead, holding an atmosphere pellucid and serene. And here again was a power, a vast open power, a power greater than the tiny mountains. Here, in full view, was the light of the world , companion of the earth, a power greater than the lake and the prairie below, but not greater than man in his power: So Louis thought. The train neared the city: it broke into the city: it plowed its way through miles of shanties disheartening and dirty gray. It reached its terminal at an open shed . Louis tramped the platform , stopped , looked toward the city, ruins around him : looked at the sky: and as one alone , stamped his foot. raised his hand and cried in full voice: THIS IS THE PLACE FOR ME!

That day was the day before Thanksgiving in the year Eighteen Hundred Seventy-three. !Chapter X, p. 196-971 In childhood his idols had been the big strong men who did things. Later on he had begun to feel the greater power of men who could think things: later the expansive power of men who could imagine things; and at last he began to recognize as dominant, the will of the Creative Dreamer: he who possessed the power of vision needed to harness Imagination , to harness the intellect. to make science do his will. to make the emotions serve him-for without emotion nothing .... lpp. 24 7-248JAs months passed and the years went by, as world after world unfolded before him and merged within the larger world, and veil after veil lifted , and illusion after illusion vanished , and the light grew ever steadier, Louis saw power everywhere: and as he grew on through his boyhood, and through the passage to manhood , and to manhood itself, he began to see the powers of nature and the powers of man coalesce in his vision into an IDEA of power. Then and only then he became aware that this idea was a new idea ,-a complete reversal and inversion of the commonly accepted intellectual and theological concept of the Nature of man. !Chapter XIII, p. 2481

Miss Rosalie Goodyear is surely forgiven provided that hereafter she will al low me to use such expressions as "five years of duration", and other equally weird to those who read the words but not the though~ For instance. why "motherhood tears" instead of "mothertears?" as written? The word motherhood is decidedly artificial as well. Also. why: "A bucket and a child and a thought in the throes of birth ". instead of "a chi ld and a barning thought"? To associate the agonies of childbirth . even by implication with the simple thought-movement of a child of three is going far and falsely. Please don't think I am merely fussy about such matters. In writing I endeavor to be explicit as to thought and emotion. and avoid artificiality. I wish the story to be plain and straightforward though at times. perforce it will deal with subtleties. Isn't it about time you were coming out this way again? The excerpt from Psalm 24 should read "Shall come in" (Chap 6). Sincerely. Louis H. Sullivan 7/ 27/22 My dear Whitaker: Chapter 7. of the autobiography, just finished. is now in the hands of the typist. I am prayerful that she .. PI it as little as may be. in order that I may complete the revision early The chapter is long but meaty. It moves to and fro between the ages of 9 and 14.

and avoids a monstrous .f?I the movement residing in the mass affect The chapter closes with the boy of 14-examinations passed-ready to enter the English High School In Chapter 8. after a diversion to the primeval forest of northern New York. I intend to take the boy through his career in the English High School and the Mass. Inst of Technology carrying him to the age of 17 and to Philadelphia I wish to compliment you on the Galley Proof of Chap 3. It is satisfying to find such accurate work. In the early paragraphs I found it necessary to eliminate a couple of sentimental !?I and restore my original English . lacking though it may be in the refinement of "hither and yon" snow drifts and "rooted growths" I have not heard from you as to Chap 6. nor indeed concerning any of my recent queries I suppose you have returned to

your forest preserve Wish I might be somewhere in the wilderness. Instead of a vacation . which I cannot afford . I shall in the next chapter. translate myself through memories. whither, to the primeval forest in all its sublimity As ever, wishing you well. Louis H. Sullivan

Aug 12th 1922 Dear Whitaker: I am busy now on Chap 8 ( 10 pages done) with the idea of bringing my schedu le of delivery back to norm a I( cy). It is a momentous Chapter: as the "Idea " begins to show its form . or perhaps it were better to say an adumbration of its power and significance. It will be enti-

Drawing forCHW by Louis H. Sullivan. c. 1924 Courtesy of The American Insti-

tied "Louis goeth on a journey" -which means a trip. Chaperoned by his grandpa-from Boston to Lyons Falls . NY -about 50 miles north of Utica-say about 300 miles from Boston . As Louis had never been farther away from Boston than Newburyport. this journey brings on a sudden and tremendous expansion. Most of the summer is spent in Lyons Falls. with a two-week invasion of the primeval forest with three companions All this occu rs during the summer of Âˇ70 I will be lucky if I can get Louis back to Boston within 6000 words This chapter is the most important thus far undertaken. as it breaks into freedom. I am now planning that Chap 9 will take Louis through the English High School. and "Tech ". and on to Phila. I have turned your letterover to Nimmons. as I cannot give it due consideration now The

tute of Architects Archives.

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22 September 1922 Now Louis felt he had arrived at a point where he had a foothold , where he could make a beginning in the open world. Having come into its responsibilities, he would face it boldly. He could now, undisturbed , start on the course of practical experimentation he long had in mind . which was to make an architecture that fitted its functions-a realistic architecture based on well defined utilitarian needs-that all practical demands of utility should be paramount as basis of planning and design : that no architectural dictum , or tradition . or superstition, or habit should stand in the way. He would brush them all aside, regardless of commentators. For his view, his conviction was this: That the architectural art to be of contemporary immediate value must be plastic: all senseless conventional rigidity must be taken out of it: it must intelligently serve-it must not suppress. In this wise the forms under his hand would grow naturally out of the needs and express them frankly. and freshly. This meant in his courageous mind that he would put to the test a formula he had evolved , through long contemplation of living things, namely that form follows function , which would mean , in practice, that architecture might again become a living art. if this formula were but adhered to. !Chapter XIII. p. 257-581

enclosed will interest you. Kindly return it. Cordially. LHS PS. I have not yet rec'd my extra copies of Chap 3. lat top of page! Aug 17th 1922 Dear Whitaker: The manuscript of Chap 8 "Louis goeth on a Journey" was completed la st night(or rath er this morning at 4.) The typist who has been working with me thus far. gave me ample notice that she would leave tomorrow for a vacation of two weeks. Therefore I have had herfollow up daily. and now have the first typing which I have not yet scanned as I am all in. What luck I will have in the re-typing 50

I don't know The scope of the Chapter proved too big. Therefore I shal l round it out as an introduction to Chap #9 into which #8 will naturally flow. as we are now leaving to deal with individuals-with personalities-as the stream of thought moves on. Do not imagine for a moment that "Minnie" is a literary creation built up on a sma ll foundation of fact. Hers was a character as rare. taken in its totality. that never since then have I met the like. IO days is too much to give to the Mss of a chapter: but the story now has a grip on me I find difficult to control. Your recent letter is not by me: hence I may be overlooking items of importance Sincerely. Louis H. Sullivan

Dear Sullivan . ... As for the Autobiography! My dear man. I have never lost faith in thatasa piece of literature I think you have done a piece of work of which I am proud to have been a mere cooperator. My o nl y anxiety was that its publication in se ri al form with the long prologue devoted to childh ood would militate aga inst it. but I do not fear about this any longer, although several have inquired as "when you were going to get down to architecture". But the average architect mind is a dull one. fearfully done. and has so long been fed with picture magazines as to be quite atrophied when it is a question of literary perception . Ten long years of trying to change that have left me under no illusions .. Yours. CHW 16 Jan 1923. Dear Sullivan . Reading the opening pages of Chapter XI reminds me of my own reflections about words. symbols and even unimaged communication. and particularly recalls Wells's IH G. Wells! last book. just out. in which the people of his Utopia do all their thought transference without the use of anything at alJI It's quite a taJe1 Now-this will let you know that Chap XI is here. Also. the

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Drawing of fresco design by Louis H. Sullivan , 1875 Courtesy of Michigan Historical Collections , Bentley Historical Library. University of Michigan

Yours,

C.H . W PS. I enclose a letter from the wife of an ALA member (who has an article in our Jan . no.) which will please you CW 5 June 1923 Dear Sullivan . .Chapter 14, about which you ask, is of course a most fascinating excursion . and I enjoyed it thoroughly, although I did think one or two places a bit obscure, and these I would like to go over with you before the book is finally set Chapter 15 I await with anxiety. for it will

have much to do with the sale of the book (God forgive me. but you see how easily I drop from the realm of literature to thoseofpublishing 1)and I hope it is going to deal with the World 's Fair episode as we originally planned . in the rough . to be sure. but yet I think it is needed to complete the record . How about it? Faithfully yours. CHW

15 June 1923 Dear Sullivan. In regard to the last Chapter

I think it is important to bring the IDEA up to a certain point. perhaps in the history of architectural development in the United States. and I remembered that you once said to me that when you came to deal with the World's Fair you would have something to say Of course what you would say would not be pleasant to the old crowd . but nothing needs saying more than that very thing and I had hoped you would get to it in one of the later Chapters. If we stopped to consider the sale of the book. we might inquire what was the right thing to say to make the book sell. and we should probably be advised to give it a happy ending. but that is not the point and it is. for me.

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and not a common occurrence. And now that the full effect of capitalized values. natural resource monopoly. credit appropriation. and the bunk of government has been piled on top. I don't see so much hope as you do except as I see decay setting in. here and there. and people being thrown back upon their own creative resources . Five thousand miles I recently have put in America and nearly as many more in Europe. and all I see hope in is the breakdown of the industrial order and the revival of craft traditions by forcing men to depend upon themselves and not upon a damnable machine that can no longer be operated. However. quien sabe?

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Design for screen for Andrew O"Conner. Ir.. sculptor. by Louis H. Sullivan 1922 . Courtesy of The University of Michigan Museum of Art. Transfer from the College of Architecture and Design. a pure question of literary interest How should the book end in order to carry out your idea. You are the best judge. surely. and if the IDEA could be brought to a point. it might be the best way of making the whole argument tell. I am not sure just where we meet in the premises. because to me the arrival of the industrial

process. its apogee of debauchery which is still in full force. and the application of the principle of capitalizing everything into a value as based upon its earning power in dollars and cents. put architecture and the whole building game so thoroughly into a house of prostitution. thattheescapeofanything sound or brilliant was a miracle

Dear Whitaker: In reply to yours: I believe I will go ahead and write the closing chapter after my own mind as to literary structure and content You bet I will have a word to say about the World 's Fair. and it will bea mighty unpleasant word for some. I will write of it in the light of a tragedy I am glad you feel the work should be carried to its realistic conclusion. I suppose Max is with you by this time with the full set of drawings Yours Sullivan PS My good friend died suddenly on the I Ith. In consequence this is the first day

I have had to my self. I am temporarily all in and the heat is fierce. LHS

pushing ahead in good physical and mental form

In re Autobiography 1230 am . July 8th 1923

7/12 /23

Dear Whitaker: I am in a quandary and wish your counsel at once. My chapters as a rule have run to 20 pages of long hand . I am now on page 19 of Chap 15 and have not yet reached the item of the World 's Fair. and its wretched consequences I feel the chapter is well planned. and if carried out as I have it in mind will furnish in narrative. action . atmosphere. analysis and synthesis the strong support that Chap 14 needs in order that the entire work when completed may be in rhythmical balance. I feel also the need of a careful study of the pathological condition now prevailing My suggestion is this-and it seems the only way out-that I go on-as I have started-to a finish : using ten to twelve thousand words. and that the chapter be published underone title : say. " Retrospect and Comment". but in two consecutive sections. My purpose being. that the content of the closing chapter shall reinforce and enlarge the significance of all preceding chapters. and add power to the work as a whole. At this moment I feel the need of elbow room . What have you to say? Tell me quickly, as I am

Hastily Sullivan

Dear Whitaker I presume the first part of Chap 15 will be in your hands by the time this reaches you . and will be in due season for your purpose In it I continue the narrative form purposely in retrospect as retold to recent times and viewed in the light of consequence Chap 14 is to be fortified : in the relation of its main origins. The two firms of architects mentioned I Adler & Sullivan and Burnham & Rootl are intended to symbolize two opposing movements-as will be further developed. The psychic value of Ocean Springs ISullivanÂˇs winter home in Biloxi Bay, Mississippi I is of the highest importance. The story of the Auditorium illustrates the high value of courage and the spirit of adventure. The description of our far flung land with the accompanying allegory of winter and spring is intended for all the "eminent" boobs. and for the young enthusiast. The reason for the introduction of the story of "Inspiration" if not self evident will become so later The purpose of this closing chapter is to enlarge the vision and increase the power-add to the momentum of the work. It will come to grips with things as they are-particularly with certain psychopathic aspects. It will continue the story of my

own development. which . so far (to date). has not come to a standstill. I propose to make of the entire chapter a work of art. In the second section we will soon reach the "World 's Fai( I shall treat itas a virus. and follow its co nstitutional symptoms up to the present day dementia and hallucination . I shall close with a broad survey and critique. If space permits I will show how the great war has lifted the veil. How I am going to crowd all this into the alloted space I don't kn ow-but I will try. I am too tired to write any more tonight. Sincerely, Louis H. Sullivan PS. Will tackle the second part as soon as I am rested Let me know what you think of the first..

13 July 1923 Dear Sullivan . The manuscript of the first half of the Concluding Chapter came this morning and is now gone to be set. It is very wonderful and I was deeply moved in reading it. Perhaps it is because I find myself very much in need of courage and refreshment. just at this time. for the intrusions of business seem periodically to leave me like sweet bells jangled However. I shall always be proud of the fact that I was the editor of the JOURNAL that printed the Autobiography of an ldea 1 â&#x20AC;˘ Faithfully yours. CHW

Jul y 26th. 1923 Daniel Burnham was obsessed by the feudal idea of power. Louis Sullivan was equally obsessed by the beneficent idea of Democratic power. Daniel chose the easier way, Louis the harder. Each brooded incessantly. john Root was so self-indulgent that there was risk he might never draw upon his underlying power: Adler was essentially a technician . an engineer. a conscientious administrator. a large progressive judicial and judicious mind securing alike the confidence of conservative and radical. plenty of courage but lacking the dream-quality of Burnham : and such he must remain-the sturdy wheel-horse of a tandem team of which Louis did the prancing. Unquestionably, Adler lacked sufficient imagination ; so in a way did John Root-that is to say. the imagination of the dreamer. In the dream-imagination lay Burn ham's strength and Louis's passion . !Chapter XV. pp. 288-891 The architects of Chicago welcomed the steel frame and did something with it. The architects of the East were appalled by it and could make no contribution to it. In fact. the tall office buildings fronting the narrow streets and lanes of lower New York were provincialisms, gross departures from the law of common sense. For the tall office building loses its validity when the surroundings are uncongenial to its nature ; and when such buildings are crowded together upon narrow streets or lanes they become mutually destructive . !Retrospect. p. 313 I At the beginning it was tentatively assumed that the firm of Burnham & Root might undertake the work !designing the 1893 world's fair! in its entirety. The idea was sound in principle-one hand, one great work-a superb revelation of America 's potencyan oration. a portrayal. to arouse that which was hidden . to call it forth into the light. But the work of ten years cannot be done in two. It would require two years to grasp and analyze the problem and effect a synthesis. Less than three years were available for the initiation and completion of the work entire. ready for the installation of exhibits. The idea was in consequence dismissed . As a matter of fact there was not an architect in the land equal to the undertaking. No veteran mind seasoned to the strategy and tactics involved in a wholly successful issue. Otherwise there might have arisen a gorgeous Garden City, reflex of one mind . truly interpreting the aspirations and the heart's desire of the many, every detail carefully considered , every function given its due form . with the sense of humanity at its best. a suffusing atmosphere; and within the Garden City might be built another city to remain and endure as a memorial. within the parkland by the blue waters , oriented toward the rising sun . a token of a covenant of things to be. a symbol of the city's basic significance as offspring of the prairie, the lake and the portage. I Retrospect. pp. 318-191

Dear Whitaker: I have 20 pages written of the 2d 1/ 2 of Chap 15. This leaves 5 pages in which to close. if I stick to the 25 page model. I start with a description of conditions social. commercia l and architectural. in Chicago, in the earlier days preceding 1880 This forms an introductory background to the astonishing development of the building art in Chicago between the years 1880 and 1893. The growth of big cities from outside pressure is discussed: the eme rgence from population-pressure and advancing land values. of. first. the tall masonry office buildingthen its successor the lofty steelfra me structure. with a lucid statement of the origin and true sign ifi cance of the latter as an impressive triumph put up to architects as something new under the sun. for them to cope with . The partial success of Chicago architects. the total failure of Eastern architects: due to the difference of mental attitude between half-baked culture and the open mind. All of the above leads up carefully to the World 's Fair. For. to understand the significance of the World 's Fair. one must know its economic. social and cultural genre . Burnham Âˇs ca reer is carefully followed throughout the chapter. The half-baked cultu re again appears upon the scenearrivingJasJa small white cloud from the East. I briefly describe the initial stages of organizatio n. the selection of

arch itects. and describe their first meeting at which I was secretary Then I jump the entire period of construction (which would make a pretty story, if intimately told) to the point of open ing the gates. the surging crowds. and the impress on their untutored imaginations. of the architectural display This is as far as I have written. It brings me to the point I have been approaching from the beginning of the work. It furnishes the solid groundwork from which I can now now showforth that arch itectural imitation as a psychopathic phenomena. and the d ire conseque nces of its viru s. This I believe I can do in the remain ing 5 pages. with a few words as skillfully managed as may be. to bring the work to a close. Your readers of course do not know what is in the back of my head. and this closure may satisfy them. But with me it leaves rich material untouched -the period from 1893 to the present day, including the great world catastrophes. and the

rounding out of the moral idea and the conception of man as a quality I presume that with this chapter. the series publication wil l have run long enough But just now I am thinking of the book and what may or might be done as a matter of judgment And I have th is further thought in mind that should there be a call for a second edition I should like to carry the work to a fullness of completion. Let me have your views. Truly Louis H. Sul li van

30 July 1923 Dear Su llivan . Your interesting letter of the 25th is at hand this morning and it leads me to some reflections First. whether it would be advisable to write an epilogue. so to speak. at the end of the present autobiography, and include it in a book. Etching of Transportation Building designed by Louis H. Sullivan . World's Columbian Exposition . 1893 CHS.

Or. whether it would be worth while to write another briefer series of articles dealing consecutively with certain outstanding events in the development of American architecture subsequent to the World 's Fair There are. I believe. some outstanding men and some well defined events. al l of which have left their mark. or to put it more bluntly. all of which have all the more befuddled the architects as well as the people I am quite sure that you still have a lot to say and it only remains. as I see it. to decide how it can best be said . not on ly for the saying of it but to stimu late interest in the Autobiography and the drawings. This is not as Socrates would have stated it to hi s hearers. but then. you remember what Field wrote about Xantippe 1 IThe proverbially shrewish. 5th century B C wife of Socrates./ Yours ever. CHW

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September 26. 1923. Thus they departed joyously. carriers of contagion. unaware that what they had beheld and believed to be truth was to prove. in historic fact. an appalling calamity !the 1893 world's fair!. For what they saw was not at a II what they be! ieved they saw. but an imposition of the spurious upon their eyesight. a naked exhibitionism of charlatanry in the higher feudal and domineering culture. conjoined with expert salesmanship of the materials of decay. Adventitiously, to make the stage setting complete. it happened by way of apparent but unreal contrast that the structure representing the United States Government was of an incredible vulgarity. while the building at the peak of the north axis. stationed there as a symbol of "The Great State of Illinois" matched it as a lewd exhibit of drooling imbecility and political debauchery. The distribution at the northern end of the grounds of many state and foreign headquarters relieved the sense of stark immensity. South of them. and placed on the border of a small lake. stood the Palace of the Arts. the most vitriolic of them all-the most impudently thievish. The landscape work. in its genial distribution of lagoons. wooded islands. lawns. shrubbery and plantings. did much to soften an otherwise mechanical display.... !pp. 32 l-221ThusArchitecture died in the land of the free and the home of the brave .... Thus we have now the abounding freedom of Eclecticism. the winning smile of taste. but no architecture. For Architecture. be it known . is dead. Let us therefore lightly dance upon its grave. strewing roses as we glide. Indeed let us gather. in procession. in the night. in the rain. and make soulful. fluent. epicene orations to the living dead we neuters eulogize. !Retrospect. pp. 325-261

Aug. 2d. 1923 Dear Whitaker: You will be pleased to know that I yesterday completed the manuscript-long hand-of the Autobiography. and feel a consequent relief that the work is completed as a thesis. The mss is now in the hand of the typist. and I believe I can get it to you by the 10th. I wish to give careful review to the first typing. to be sure my thought flows as I wish it to do. The termination is more felicitous (to my mind) than I had believed I could bring

about in so short a space. The mss however extends to 30 pages long hand. This closing chapter has proved so intensely absorbing to me that I hope and trust it will have your full approval . I can't express my gratitude at the strong and sympathetic support you have given me throughout. The literary work has covered a period of almost 18 months. the drawings 17.and I am very tired. Sincerely Louis H. Sullivan

Dear Sullivan : I haveyournoteofthe20th I have certainly been overworked . and I have certainly been over-worried . which are some of the reasons for the delay. which I know must annoy you But on the other hand there are very serious and important considerations that cannot be brushed aside. The publication of the Autobiography and the drawings will involve between three and four thousand dollars. and it is necessary for all our interests that we make no mistake if possible We want to secure the largest sale we can for both of these. and your interest and ours are identical in this respect. so please be patient yet a little. We have deliberated a good deal as to whether the title is right insofar as affects the sale. I think now we are pretty well satisfied that it is all right. although it is long and not particularly dramatic. In the second place. I have been to a good deal of trouble to get opinions from the men who have been interested in your story. and I can say that the verdict is unanimous in one respect. and that is that the sale of the book would be helped if you can make certain changes in the first two or three chapters. Even the mostardentadmirers of the Autobiography feel that the "wonder child " pictures do not carry. They recognize. as I do. that it is very difficult for an idea to speak and still preserve

the personality as an idea. The mind of the reader unconsciously prefers personality to the actual writer. and thus the writer appears to be vain of himself as the "wonder child". Now I am not mentioning these things from any literary motive. I am merely concerned in selling the largest number of copies of the book that we can possibly sell, and I have the feeling that if we can set the . stage right. we have a very good chance of making a very big sale. You know how I feel about the work. I think it is a masterly piece of literature. and one that will take its place in American letters. In many ways I think it is a greater work than Henry AdamsÂˇ IThe Education of Henry

Drawing of fresco design by Louis H. Sullivan . 1874 . Courtesy of Micnigan Historical Collections. Bentley Historical Library. University of Micnigan

Adams. 19181. which is the only work to which I can intelligently compare it. I wish you would take a look through these early chapters with a fresh mind . and see whether you still disagree entirely with the point of view raised by others who only raise itbecauseoftheirkind interest in the success of the book! I expect that we shall begin setting type on it next week. We have practically decided on the format. and it will be a book of about 325 pages. running approximately 300 words a page. The final figures are not all in . but I think it will be a

$3 .00 book. and a piece of typography of which you will not be ashamed Shall you care to read the page proof, or will you leave them to be read by the published manuscript. Of course we have made a note of the missing five lines. which unfortunately happened in one of the numbers Faith fu Ily. CHW Dictated by Mr. Whitaker but not read Sept 29th 1923 Dear Whitaker I am giving serious attention to your letter of the 26th just received this noon Rest assured I wish to cooperate with you 57

11 / 20/ 23

\ Ornament design forWainwrigntTomb by Louis H. Sullivan . Bellefontain; Cfemet~~YSt. Louis. Courtesy of The University of M1cn1gan Museum of Art. Trans,er rom e College of Architecture and Design . toward the common good : and am entirely open to suggestions. which I will carefully weigh with due respect. Following your suggestion . I have gone through Chaps 1-2 & 3 with an entirely fresh eye. as I had not looked at them since they were published I at once spotted the "wonder child " as a wierd inversion of my interest. It is the old story of the two sides of the child . My simpler intent was to set forth the child as one who wondered at everything about him and sensed a hidden power The matter is easily rectified. Moreover I have gone through the Chapters 1-2-3 pencil in hand . remodeling. in places. by a process of elimination . I leave Wednesday night Oct 3. for Mt. Vernon. Ohio to visit my friend Dr Geo D Sondt. and receive treatment for my tangled nerves which refuse to relax here Don't start setting type until our minds meet. More to follow Sincerely. Sullivan

Sept 30th 192 3 Dear Whitaker 1have just read Chap 4. It is well written and seems all right In this chapter I strike my true gait Chaps I. 2 and 3 a_re uneven in quality and crude in spots. I have taken hold of them as I used to prune my rose bushes. and have brought them up to standard . but I wish to go over them again . I have disposed of the bugaboo-the "wonder child ". I have also touched up #4 a bit for literary points I have made my corrections on issues of the "Journal " and will forward them to you before I leave. 1 think you will be satisfied and pleased. If you still find points of objection please specify in detail. I intend to go through all the chapters to the end : there are scattered errors which must be corrected More to follow. Yours. LHS

Dear Whitaker: ... As to a foreword : I like the idea . for the book was written mainly for the general reader. who may not know me from Adam. But who is todo it? Frank Wright could if he wou l_d . for I took him into my office in 1885 and he staid with me seven years But Frank has not re_ad the book in its serial form (like many others he has been waiting for the volume to appear). and it might involve a hardship for him to undertake it now on short notice. as he leaves for Los Angeles on the 25th . There are men in the club here who could do it with my help. but I doubt if their names would carry far enough Arthur Waltersdorf. a fellow architect of about 50 is immensely sympathetic and could do t_he work well-in fact second choice to Frank Wright-he has a good popular style. I doubt if any eastern architect could enter into the western spirit-which is the real spirit of America . You think it over.and ifa name occurs to you. or any suggestion let me know Thanks for your scrupulous proofreading. Yours. Sullivan 3 December 1923 Dear Sullivan . 1have been thinking long and earnestly over the question of

a prefatory foreword and as far as I have got the name of Claude Bragdon I Rochester. New York , architect; in later years he designed theater sets in New York City! sticks most in my mind. Have you any objections to him He is a skillful writer and an admirer of your work and philosophy and his name would carry far I would prefer that the preface were written by a really educator. such as Meiklejohn of Amherst !Alexander Meiklejohn was president of Amherst College. I9I2 - 23I. orbetterstill.as I have just read Bernard ShawÂˇs epistle to the educated working man. I wish that it could be done by him . I might try him , for I have access. But the point is that the book has a message. as I see it. for those who perceive that the reorganization of child life has the only possibility there is. That is why my mind turns in these d irections. Let me know your mind , please Hastily, CHW

Dec 5th 1923 Dear Whitaker: Claude Bragdon is all right as far as he goes-for second choice. G. B. S !George Bernard . Shawl is too far away I have been talking with Frank Wright He would willingly do it. but does not believe one architect should write forward the literary work of another I have just finished reading John Dewey's "Human Nature

Music magazine cover by Louis H. Sullivan. from Forms & Fantasies. 1898. Courtesy of Tfie American Institute of Architects Archives.

and Conduct:Âˇ There is a remarkable parallelism between his thought and mine. He would be my decided choice if he will undertake the job I am wondering if he can be reached at Columbia . Will you undertake to connect with him if you approve? ..

10 December. 1923 Dear Sullivan . I have your letter of the 5th. inst lthis instant! It is true that Shaw is a long way off but. on the other hand. if he wrote such a Preface as is he is able it wou ld help the sale of the book enormously I have sent him a proof

Sincerely Sullivan 59

than even. although I came near to going after it in person. for just as I wrote you I came across a bit of writing by Shaw that simply paralleled your plea for the child Do you still feel that the "Autobiography " is the best name? I have asked countless people and I still am wondering If we stick to it ought you not to modify the last lines for therein you speak in the first person? Our ci rcu la rization starts th is week and soon you will see what I consider a very attractive circular. We are also running a two page ad in the JOURNAL for this month , out in a day or two .. Sincerely, CHW

Dec 22d . 1923

Drawing of Louis H. Sullivan by Theodore). Keane. from Friendly Libel s.

1924 .

CHS Library

of the story and have arranged for a mutual friend to put it up to him and cable me an answer which I should have this day week. or the day following If he assents it wi II not delay, for the book is now being set and could be printed ahead of the Preface. If I do not get a cable to say

that Shaw will. then we must see about another. I had thought about Dewey and I can get to him without any trouble. but Shaw is the first bet Please do not let anyone know that I am trying, for the chances are no more

Dear Whitaker ... In fact I am totally in the dark concerning both works !autobiography and portfolio!. I should like to hear from you a business-like. straightforward statement-something practical that I can understand-concerning both issues How many copies of each are you figuring to print? When will they appear? When will my royalties begin? And what do you mean by advertizing a portfolio of drawings? instead of a bound volume Please do not credit me with being a mind-reader . Hastily, Louis H. Sullivan PS. Max is as much in the dark as I am.

Ch icago. Illino is April l\venty-eighth . 1924 . Mr Sidney J Adler Jso n of Dankmar Adlerl 516 Peoples Gas Building. 122 So. Mi chigan Avenue. Chicago. Illino is. Dear Mr Adler:! am send ing you herewith memorandum relating to Mr Louis H. Sullivan. which you may use as you see fit in writing to Mr Sul li va n's brother Mr Sull ivan had been ill and absent from the Cliff Dwellers a good deal. since about the first of March. Mr Sullivan ca lled me up about the 25th o f March and asked me to come o ut to the Hotel Warner that he was sick. I went out and he appeared to me to be a very sick man. and it struck me on my first visit that he was not getting the ca re that he shou ld have. I learned from him the name of hi s doctor( Dr Curtis). who was a personal friend of hi s and had been giving him attention free for the past two o r three months, and had known him for yea rs I went over to Dr Curtis' office, saw the doctor and asked him what Mr Sullivan's actual condition was and whether he did not consider it necessary. either to have Mr . Sul livan move to a hospital o r secure the services of a nurse. Dr Curtis told me that Mr Sul livan was suffering from an extreme dilation of the heart and that his condition could never be improved: that he was a very sick man and that in his condition . he might go quickly

It seems fitting, therefore . that this work should close with the same child-dream in which it began . The dream of a beauteous, beneficent power: which came when . winter past. the orchards burst into bloom . and the song of spring was heard in the land . That dream has never ceased. That faith has never wearied . With the passage of the years, the dream . the faith , ever expanding in power, became all-inclusive: and with the progress of the dream and the faith. there emerged in confirmation a vague outline, growing year after year more luminous and clear.... It was this unseen nearby presence, messenger of Life in its flowing, that sang its song of spring to the child . and the child heard what no one heard : the child saw what no one saw It is questionable how much of social value one who has had access to the treasures of the past. access to the best and the worst in the thought of his day, may leave behind him in his fruitage, as a quantum-an IDEA. This narrator agrees. in such connection , thatthe initial instinct of the child , as set forth , is the basis of all fruitful ideas. and that the growth in power of such ideas is in itself a work of instinct: that. if it has been convincingly shown that instinct is primary and intellect secondary in all the great works of man. this portrayal is justified. It is further the belief of this narrator, in this connection . that if he has succeeded in setting clearly forth the basic fruitful power of the IDEA permeating and dominating this narrative of a life-experience. physical and spiritual. he has done well in thus making a record in words to be pondered in the heart. !Retrospect. pp. 329-30!

orhe might linger on fora period of years Mr Sull ivan had an acute case of neuritis in his rightarm which was slowly paralyzing this arm and the use of his ri ght hand . and had begun to affect.a little. his articulation in speech. The doctor said it was very necessary for Sullivan to have care. but because of Sullivan's oppos iti on to hospitals. he believed it would be better for him to stay right at the hotel where the proprietor was a close. personal friend . and have a nurse come and take

ca re of him The doctorthought at that time that a visiting nurse. ca lling for an hour two times a day. would be all that th e case required I immediately went back and had a talk with Sullivan . and told him that I would arrange to have a nurse sent down and for him not to worry about financial matters. as he had enough fri end s anxious to help him so that that part o f it would be taken ca re of alright Sullivan was worrying greatly and in a very serious mood over his lack of funds

Photograph of Louis H. Sullivan's gravestone. Graceland Cemetery. Chicago. CHS. ICHi-20039

I arranged that night for a visiting nurse to call. but between March 25th and Friday March 28th . Mr. Sullivan had grown weaker so that I believed it necessary to have a trained nurse spend the entire day with him-the doctor agreed with me in this. We secured a very competent nurse. a Miss Harper. who staid with Mr. Sullivan from nine o'clock in the morning until ten o 'clock at night During the week ending April 5th. we found it necessary to have Miss Harper arrange to stay constantly. we secured a room for her at the Hotel next to Mr. Sullivan's and during the last two weeks she was with him constantly. the doctor also making frequent calls. It is a source of gratification 62

to all of Mr. Sullivan's friends to feel that at the last he had every care and attention which could be given. On a visit some two weeks before he died . Sullivan asked me to make a memorandum of certain information which I should know about in case he should die. He stated that he had no money. except what the group of friends had deposited in the Corn Exchange National Bank to his credit; that he had no safety deposit box; that he had no other assets whatever; that all of his personal possessions were in his room at the hotel and certain drawing equipment at the office provided for him by the American Terra Cotta Company.

1701 Prairie Avenue. He gave me the number of his lot at Graceland Cemetery. together with the name of his mother and father and dates of their death ; also asked me in case of his death to notify Mr. Albert Sheffield of the American Terra Cotta Company. as being a young man who was quite close to him persona I ly and who was familiar with all of his business affairs. I had deposited $90 00 to Mr. Sullivan's credit on Saturday. April 12th. and this together with previous deposits left a balance of about $ 189 00 to his credit in the Com Exchange Nat Bank. This apparently is his only cash asset Of Mr. Sullivan's personal effects. everything had been sold . I asked him particularly. if he had anything in storage and he said "No". that everything he possessed was in the room. The only art object that I saw of any value. was a small piece of carved jade. which I assume he had hung on to for some sentimental reason. The pictures on the wall were all illustrations taken out of popular magazines. and there were no Architectural books. except a few reference and text books. which were on shelves in his bath room. Apparently everything that Sullivan had possessed in his more prosperous days had been sold . and I remember that at the time he left the Auditorium Tower Jwhere he had his officeJ, he had a private sale of all of his books. rugs.

prints. office equipment. etc. I did not attend this sale but can remember of having heard of it. Mr Geib and Miss Harper under my instructions, packed up everything in the room in a box. sealed it and had it taken over and placed in charge of Mr Sheffield at the American Terra Cotta Company's office These personal effects are all available for examination .. When I realized how fast Mr Sullivan was slipping away, I wired the officers of the Press of the Institute to rush out. if it was humanly possible. one volume of the "Autobiography of an Idea" and one volume of the plates(so I could show them to Mr Sullivan before he passed away, We were fortunately able to do this and Mr Sullivan saw both the "Autobiography of an Idea" and the plates.) and they very greatly delighted him, and he expressed himself as believing that typographically and in other general presentation . they were the most beautiful books that he had ever seen . He was also greatly pleased with the foreword written by Claude Bragdon. and at Mr Sullivan路s suggestion I wrote Bragdon telling him how happy his foreword has made Mr Sullivan. On Sunday. previous to the Monday afternoon on which Mr Sullivan died . Mr Larry Woodsworth and myself had a long visit with him in his room . He repeated to us. as he had often said to me. that it was his hope and wish that when he died the proceeds from the royalties

on the books and plates. should there be any. should go to the Educational Fund of the American Institute of Architects fo r two reason : first. that Members of the Institute had made it possible for him to do this work. which he considered his greatest achievement. and secondly. that the Institute would . through this fund . perpetuate his name as it should be perpetuated in the highest circles of the Architectural Profession . He had in mind the case of Henry Adams. who long ago had given to the American Institute the rights to Chartres and Mont St. Michael I MontSaint-Micnel and Chartres. 19131 to establish a Henry Adams Educational Fund . After Henry Adams wrote the "Education of Henry Adams". this volume which he had given the Institute enjoyed an immediate large sale and the Henry Adams Fund is one of the valuable assets of the Institute. When I went out to see Mr Sullivan Monday, April 14th. on call by the nurse. I found that he had passed into unconsciousness. and Miss Harper told me that the night before when she believes he realized that he was going. he told her that there was a paper that he should sign. She tried to find out from him where the paper was so she could get it for him. as she realized he was about to die. but he could not tell her coherently and within a few minutes passed into a comatose condition. It is my opinion that he referred to the assignment to the Institute of the royalty

rights. as I know this thought was uppermost in his mind . The group of friends during the last three weeks of his illness contributed about $30000 to his care and have guaranteed the funeral expenses. amounting to about $3 50.00 more. Mr Sullivan owes the Hotel for about five or six weeks' room rent at $9 00 per week and without specifying. he told me that he had some other accounts and some notes out. Probably the cash in the Bank. when it can be released . will pay for his hotel arrears and any small indebtedness that he may have. I was put in touch with one of the notes Saturday, when Mr Mark Cumming路s secretary called me up and said Mr Cumming路s held Mr Sullivan's note for$ I 50.00. plus accrued interest. I convinced this gentleman . I believe. thatthere was nothing whatever in the estate and that he had better tear up the note and throw it away, which I believe he will do. All of Mr Sullivan路s possessions are sealed up in boxes in the possession of Mr Albert Sheffield . c/o American Terra Cotta Company, 1701 Prairie Avenue. Chicago. and can be gone over by any properly authorized individual. Hoping that this memorandum will give you information around which you can build a proper picture of the situation. and with kind personal regards, I remain . Yours very truly. N. Max Dunning NMD-HFD

REVIEW ESSAY Daniel P. O'Neill reviews a range offrontline scholarship on Catholicism.

Although the Catho li c church in Chicago has been an important institution since the city's founding, its history was poorly addressed until the dozen years when.James Sanders.Joseph Parot, George Lane, and Timothy Walch added significant!)' lo the understanding of its development. The Chicago Archdiocese is the nation's second largest. It is the most diverse ethnically. As successive immigrant groups have demanded equa lity of treatment and even autonomy within the church, they have created a turbu lent history. Unlike eastern cities, Chicago had Catho li cs among its earliest settlers. They estab lished their first parish, St. Mary's, in 1833, the year the town was incorporated. Within ten years, it became the cathedral of the city's first bishop. Reflecting the early development of a Ca tholi c commun ity, religious orders establi5h ed some of the city's first schools and social welfare institutions, initially serving a broad clientele. The Sisters of Mercy's St. Xavier Academy, for instance, educated the daughters of sociall y prominent Catholic and non-Catholic citizens, while their hospital cared for the sick regardless of religious affiliation. The books under review differ in scope.James Hennesey's American Catholics: A History ofthe Roman Catholic Community in the United States (Oxford Un iversity Press, 1981 ) is a survey of the American Catholic experience. Charles Shanabruch's Chicago '.5

Catholics: The Evolution of an American Identity (Univers ity of Notre Dame Press, 1981 ), and Edward Kantowicz's Corporation Sole: Cardinal Mundelein and Chicago Catholicism (University of Notre Dame Press, 1983) are ground-break ing monographs on Chicago Catho li cism. Common to al l three are two related themes: building the institutional church and, in its wake, reconciling Catholicism, considered by some a foreign and unassimilable institution , with American values and institutions. He nn esey's title is misleading, for his is not a grassroots "community" history. Given the nature DaniPl R O'Neill is professor of history and chairman of the Department of Histo,y at St. ,\lm)'S College in Winona, Minnesota.

6..J.

of his task- surveying the Catholic experience in the United States from the age of discovery to the present-he must draw on the work or other cho lars who, with some notable exceptions, have written the histo1-y of American Catholicism from the perspective of the hierarchy, not the community. Any survey must reflect this bias. The sto1-y of American Catho licism is comp lex . Over the last two hundred years the church has experienced striking changes in size, national and ethnic composition, social status, parish life, and ped,aps most complex, in its place in American society. In the course of these changes Catholi cism was transformed from an immigrant church into an American church . This is the underlying theme in Hennesey's survey. In discussing institutional development, Hennesey uses short case studies in place of an encyclopedic approach. Accompanying institutional expansion was the search for an appropriate model of governance for the American church. On the national level, nineteenth-centu1-y bishops used the Counci ls of Baltimore to formulate a common policy for the church. In this century, they succeeded in forming a permanent national organization . The issue of church authority on the loca l level, however, proved more contentious. The management of parish property and the appointment of pastors brought bishops into conflict with the laity. Sometimes this wa played out in the press and the courts and even can-ied to Rome for reso luti on. American Catholicism was built for and by immigrants and their children . Perhaps its major achievement was accommodating within one institution an ino-edibly diverse body of people. Yet the church was not without its failures. Though it claimed to be a world religion, the nineteenthcentu1-y church was primarily a European institution. It was less effective in meeting the religious needs of Mexican-Americans, Indians, blacks, and Eastern-rite Catholics. Hennesey is insightfu l in tracing the comp lex history of Catholics' attempts to feel at home and

Onr of Cardinal M undelein'.5 major achieve11w11/s was lhe eslablishmenl of a dior/!!,al/ seminmy. I /ere he pre.,ides over the firs/ ordinalions lo be hl'ld al St. ,\Im)' of lhe Lake Semina,)' in Sej;lembn 1926. The rnrdinal believed //wt the futurr of the diocese deprndNI 011 developing lornlly recruiMI and /mined rlergy. from The :--: cw Wo rl d Cente nn ia l ( 19-13), Cl IS Librm)'.

acce pted in this co u ntry. Alth o ugh Cath o li cs have bee n in America sin ce the seve ntee nth ce ntu11; th ey we re ofte n co nsid e red to be o utsid e th e mainstream o f American life. Much of this "gnawing se nse o f no n-fit," as H e nn esey puts it, ste ms fro m th e po liti ca l and ideo log ica l afte rm a th of th e Reform a ti o n a nd th e Enlig hte nm e nt. Alo ng with our po litica l institut.i ons. the United States inh erited fro m Engla nd a Pro testa nt ide ntity. As Germ a n a nd Irish Cath o li cs arrived in th e nin etee nth ce ntury, th e ir appeara nce, custo ms, and language marked th em as "outsid ers." A ge ne ratio n o r two _la te 1~ th e pre d o min a ntl y urba n , wo rking-cl ass characte r of th e Cath o li c community se t it apart from th e large r socie ty. Besid es soc ia l a nd cultura l characte ristics, o pinio n o n public issues sometimes distinguished Cath o li cs fro m o th e r Ame ri cans. At diffe re nt tim es th e sc hoo l qu estio n , th e Spa nish C ivil Wa r, an d Communi m have bee n di visive iss ues. Thu s, th e chu rc h 's res po n e to m aj o r d eve lo pm e nts in Am e ri can h isto ry- te rrito ri a l

ex pansio n, war, de pressio n, re fom1 - is an important barom e te r o f Am e rican Catho li c ide nti ty. Give n th e recurring Ameri can d o ub t about th e loyalty of Cath o lics tO th e nati o n, it is no t surprising th at Cath o lics we re eage r to d e monstrate th e ir patriotism during wanim e. By som e estim ates, for e xampl e, th ey constituted a grea ter propo rtion o f th e a nn ed fo rces in Wo rld Wa r II tha n th ey did in th e ge ne ral po pulati o n. On th e o th e r ha nd , except for isolated voices, Catho lic part.icipatio n in refom1 move me nts was limited . With th e e lecti o n o f j o hn F Kenned y, however, d oubts abo ut the compatibility of Cath o li cism a nd Ame ri can d e mocracy were fin a ll y la id to rest. Th e a uthor a lso gives a credibl e acco unt o f Protesta nt co nce rns and fears abo ut th e Ca th o lic church- its growin g num bers, a ppare nt po liti ca l powe 1: and de m ands fo r pu bli c fundin g of its institutio ns. Th a t th ese iss ues were so me tim es th e bas is of na ti,Âˇist attac ks o n th e church d oes no t _justif\ rt: jcct in?; th e ir legitim acy o r impugnin g th e (i5

Chicago had Callwlics among ii, ear/i1,s1s,1tlm,. They 1'5lablisherl //u,i1ji,:5t parish and built St. i\1111y :, Church i11 1833 at tht' rmw,ro(St11tea11d La he slreel5. CHS, Pri11/s and Photograjih5 Collectio11.

sincerity of those who raised them. Future studies should not ignore these issues. Hennesey's account has many virtues and a few faults. The latter are mainly sins of omission. Nuns predominated in carrying out tJ1e educational, charitable, and spiritual mission of the church-before Vatican II there was a ratio of three nuns to every priest-yet Hennese)' gives them scant attention. This is most surprising considering the recent work of Mary Ewens, Mary .J. Oates, and Barbara Misner. Equally surprising is the limited cove1-age of parish clergy, a group that has begun to attract scholars. Another shortcoming is the discussion of immigration. While the coverage of the Irish and Germans is satisfactory, that of newer immigrants is cursory. By considering recent publications, more attention could have been paid to the Poles and Italians. The discussion of ethnicity would have been enhanced by drawing on a number of comparative studies-Harold Abramson on religious observance, Mark Haller on crime, and Andrew Greeley on educational and occupational achievement. Given the large mass of information in this volume, tables, maps, and chronology should have been included. American Catholics will probably be accepted as the definitive synthesis in the field. Unlike some earlier works, it is neither apologetic nor defensive in tone. Hennesey is forthright in acknowledging both individual and collective failure. He is frank about the foibles and mistakes of churchmen. He is also frank in concluding that, despite an immense commitment to education, the church has had little impact on the cultural and intellectual life

of this country. Drawing on a great variety of sources, James Hennesey has written a balanced account that nicely combines both survey and interpretation. Unfortunately, Chicago's Catholics and Corporation Sole appeared after the publication of American Catholics. Had they appeared earlier, Hennesey could have drawn on these studies of ecclesiastical governance in Chicago. Overlapping somewhat in coverage, they differ in approach and sources . Charle Shanabruch's Chicago's Catholics is an analysis of the chu1-ch's response to successive waves of newcomers. With the exception of an introductory chapter, the focus is on the years between 1880 and 1924, a period in which Chicago's population increased sixfold. The policies and leadership style of archbishops Patrick Feehan ( 1880-1902) and James Quigley (1903-15), the ordinaries of Chicago during this era of mass immigration, were cut from the same bolt of cloth. To satisfy the spiritual requirements of their cosmopolitan 0ock, they established national parishes, recruited European missionaries-often members of religious orders-to staff them, and encouraged the opening of parish schools. Under Feehan and Quigley, the diocese was decentraliLed, with the clergy and parishes informally organized into ethnic networks-German, Irish, and Polish. Th is system gave each group a degree of autonomy. Moreover, priests were encouraged to take the initiative in developing programs and institutions to serve their parishioners. Reserved and shy in public, Feehan and Quigley did not aspire to be national leaders of American Catholics. Defining tJ1eir role in pastoral terms, they sought to make

RPview E~say their archdiocese a house for all people, a place where diverse groups could live and worship according to the traditions of their homelands. George Mundelein's agenda was dramatically different from that of his predecessors. His policies fostered the Americanization of immigrants and tJ1e adminisoÂˇative centralization of tJ1e archdiocese. While Feehan and Quigley concentrated on the immigrant generation , the laity was increasingly native born. To ensure its loyalty to the faith, Mundelein believed the church had to Americanize. His Americanization program proposed a moratorium on establishing national parishes, the development of a diocesan seminary to produce locally recruited and trained clergy who would be leaders in Americanizing the laity, and the transformation of the parish schools into instruments of Americanization. nlike Feehan and Quigley, Mundelein was a national church leader. This is exemplified by his mobilization of the archdiocese in support of American participation in World War I. Mundelein hoped this demonstration of Catholic support and his Americanizing policies would reduce nativist ho tility toward Catholicism. Mundelein's Americanization program brought him into sharp conflict with tlie leaders of the Polish community who feared they would lose tlieir power if Poles gave up their language and customs. But as Shanabruch shows, such conflicts were an old story in the archdiocese. The only change was the ethnicity of the group demanding pecial privileges. Undoubtedly the most serious challenge to episcopal authority had come during tlie tenure of Archbishop Feehan when a group of Irish-born priests openly expressed their resentment at his appointment of American-born priests to major positions in the central archdiocesan administration. The controversy spilled over into the press with charges of gross immorality and incompetence and only ended with the excommunication in 1902 of Jeremiah Crowley, tlie spokesman for tlie Irish-born priests who had r.ebelled against Feehan's authority. Shanabruch also examines tJ1e church's response to nativism , socialism, immigrant nationalism, social reform, state regulation of education, and World War 1, as seen in the ecclesiastical press. His discussion of the~e issues is not always integrated into the main line of the story. The defensive character of the dioce an press is evident in its treatment of the settlement houses. Fearful that

they would lead Poles and Italians to give up their faith , it abused and ridiculed Jane Addams and other , eulement workers, calling them "socialistic amazons." Shanabruch could have carried his analysis further on these and several other issues. Why, for example, did Feehan's personnel policy apparently favor American-born priests? Would :vtundelein's Americanization policy have been possible without the forces of social conformity that were unleashed by World War I? Why does the author conclude his study in 1924? What is his reason for ignoring parishes outside the city? onetheless, Shanabruch has made a solid contribution, and his book will serve as a history of the archdioce, e until a more comprehensive work appears. In addition, it is an important case study of the institutional church 's response to mass immigration . From the newcomers' perspective tlie church was too Ame1ican; from the natives', too foreign. As the bishops of the immigrant church realized, there was no easy resolution of tJ1ese differences in perception and reality. In the first monograph on his subject, Edward Kantowicz makes a convincing case for the decisive role of Cardinal Mundelein in forming the character of Chicago Catholicism . Although episcopal biographies have long been a staple in the historiography of American Catholicism, the}' often give little attention to the bishop's administration of his see. The biographies of Cardinal Gibbons and Archbishop Ireland, for example, are preoccupied witli their su~jects' roles in national and international controversies. Kantowicz concentrates instead on Mundelein' impact on the archdiocese of Chicago. Topically organized, C01poration Sole examines the formation and implementation of his policies for administering the archdiocese during the inter-war period. When Mundelein was named archbishop of Chicago in 1916, tJ1e archdiocese had tlie reputation of being an ecclesiastical disaster zone where episcopal autliority was constantly challenged. His immediate goal was to establish his authority over the clergy. From the beginning of his tenure, he " Âˇas determined to run a tight ship: all church legislation on clerical conduct would be strictly enforced. There followed a general house cleaning of priests who did not measure up because of moral failure, financial mismanagement, alcoholism, or ocher reasons. Mundelein regularized religious observance in the parishes-mass schedules,

Chicago History, Spring 1986 sermon topics, etc.-standardized educational practices in the parochial schools, and subsequently, revealed plans for filling in gaps in the Catholic social welfare network and school system. To achieve his further aims, Mundelein made the standardization and centralization of authority into policy. Central offices were es1ablished to coordinate the schools, charitable institutions, and cemeteries. In addition, he sought to increase his control over the financial affairs of the parishes. Provided they remained solvent, they could, for the most part, do as they liked. Mundelein centralized control over building pr~jects in the chancery office. In addition, he required pastors to deposit suq)lus funds in what amounted to an archdiocesan bank, which made it possible to finance diocesan expansion from within. Kantowicz. dramatically renders l\1undelein's leadership style with the varied constituencies in the archdiocese. With the diocesan cler6'Y directly under his authority, he could in mosl matters command obedience. With the religious orders, which by virtue of their constitutions were autonomous and self-governing communities, it was necessary Lo persuade and cajole. A good example is Mundelein's campaign lo establish a "s1reetcar" college for women. The Dominican Sisters accepted his invitation but ignored his wishes by building Rosary College in secluded Oak Park. After a long campaign, he finally persuaded the nuns of the order of the Blessed Virgin Mary to open a college with a practical cun-iculum 011 the North Side along the el tracks. In dealing with the laity, most often wealthy businessnwn, the archbishop also had to exercise his powers of persuasion. To win their support for his pn~jects. he made liberal use of awards, medals, and Papal titles. Yet another constituency in the archdiocese comprised the immigrant groups. When facing their demands, particularly those of new immigrant groups, for special privileges, Mundelein was intransigent. Unlike his predecessor , he opposed establishing additional national parishes or naming auxiliary bishop for each group. This policy earned him tJ1e enmity of L11e largest of these groups, the Poles. Undoubtedly, the crowning achievement of Mundelein'sadministration was the establishment of a comprehensive diocesan seminary. Unlike other major dioceses, Chicago did not have its own permanent seminary until the I920s. The archbishop believed that the future of the diocese

depended on developing a locally recruited and trained clergy. His goal was to develop a carefully selected body of men whose loya lty was assured. After St. Mary of the Lake Seminary opened, he continued to take close interest in its students and tJ1e early stage of their pastoral careers. In his later years, the archbishop lived on the semmary campus. In tJ1e first years of his administration, Mundelein concenu-ated on administrative centralization and the development of the seminat)'; late1~ he strove lo apply Catholic social doctrine to the problems of the clay. Apparently he had a genuine compassion for those in need and encouraged the establishment of special programs and institutions, ranging from help for delinquent youths to a residence for the chronically unemployed. Jnterestingly enough, during the depression of the 1930s, Mundelein saw the need for both increased government intervention and new ini1iatives on the part of the church. He appreciated the value ofautonomy and expe1imentation and gave Bishop Bernard Sheil and Monsignor Reynold Hillenbrand, among others, a free hand in carrying out their ideas. As a result, Chicago became a seedbed for progressive and innovative Catholic organizations and movements. Though he was a determined and forceful incliviclual , Mundelein was not always successful in getting his policies enacted, for the church was not a monolithic institution but a federation of groups and institutions. The clergy, for example, successfully resisted his efforts to break the ethnic network in assigning priests to parishes. Further, some of his anempts to consolidate con1rol were not fully can-ied out by 1he time of his death in 1939. While recognizing his achievements, Kantowic7 frankly acknowledges Mundelein's limitations-his harshness in dealing with some priests, his inability to recognize true scholar. hip, and his obsession with monumen1al buildings and display. Kantowicz suggests many ideas that are not readily summa1ized. Among these are his discussions of the clerical subculture, Mundelein's efforts to win respectability for Catholicism, his relationship with Franklin D. Roosevelt, and the Mundelein heritage in Chicago. Corporation Sole integrates both Catholic and American history. To explain changes in the institutional church, Kantowicz effectively _draws on the work of Robert Wiebe and compares the leadership styles of Mundelein

Review Essay and Roosevelt. He is also attuned to broad changes that were taking place within the laity after World War I-Americanization and the movement of Catholics into the middle class. Each of these three books deserves a prominent place in the literature on American Catholicism. With a few exceptions, Ameri,can Catholics synthesizes the main lines of cunent research, while Chicago's Catholics and Corporation Sole are important studies of ecclesiastical leadership in a 1mtjor diocese. Although the former is more comÂˇentional in its approach and in its sources, it is the first extended study on the topic. Kantowicz uses a broader range of sources-including the Mundelein papers and interviews with his collaborators-and raises new questions. Most importantly, he suggests an interpretive framework for understanding the transformation of American Catholicism i11 the first part of this century under the leadership of"the consolidating bishops." As a group, these works also reveal changes that have taken place in the writing of' American Catholic history. A generation ago, it was largely the preserve of Catholic universities and their graduates, mainly priests and nuns. 1--Iennesey, a Jesuit priest trained under John Tracy Ellis at Catholic University of America, is part of that generation, while Shanabruch and Kantowicz, both trained at the University of Chicago, belong to a new group of practitioners. 'foday, research on the Catholic experience is as likely to be clone at major secular uni\'ersities as at Notre Dame. Finally, one further work deserves mention here, one which deals with the church in the last twenty years. Charles W. Dahm 's Power and Authority in the Catholic Church: Cardinal Cody in Chicago (University of Notre Dame Press, 1981 ), provides a straightforward and well-documented study of the efforts of Chicago's priests to reform the governance of the archdiocese . When John Cody was appointed Archbishop of Chicago in 1965, he came to a see noted for its si1.e and its progressive tradition. With more than 2 million parishioners, 1,500 diocesan priests, and 440 parishes, Chicago was the largest Catholic archdiocese in the United States, and it was a seedbed for the lay apostolate mo\'ement. The new archbishop, like his predecessors, had almost total control over the diocesan clergy. This rested on his control O\'er assignments and the purse. The recently concluded Vatican Council ( 1962-65),

Throughout hi.1 ln11m' Cardinal ,\lundelnn 1trived to strmgthm eJ;iscopal <wllwnly OVI~- the clngy. 771011sands of clngJ. church o[ficials, and lhPft1ilhf11/ gathered i11 Chimgo i11 1926 for lhe 28lh /11/Pmaliona/ l:uchmi1tic Co11gre1.1. The first time the C:011gret1 fwd been held i11 the L'11ited Stales. the ro,Âˇnl was a triumphjor ,\/1111deln11. Photograph by Kaujma1111 & folny. Cl IS. ICHi-2006 1.

however, had called for a democratization of church governance by enlarging the role of both the laity and the clergy. This brought about "a revolution of rising expectations," a hope that abuses and inequities in the institutional church would be rectified. Although he could not say so publicly, Archbishop Cody was not enthusia tic about the admini trative reforms mandated by Vatican Tl , particularly those that would diminish his power in any way. Using a case study approach, Charles Dahm shows how Chicago's diocesan priests seized the initiative to bring about the implementation or the decrees of the Vatican Council. Claiming that they were can)'ing out the mandate of the Council, they organized themsehÂˇes and brought pressure to bear on the archbishop. The clergy's major concerns were the rationalization or personnel policy, the establishment of grie\'ance procedures, the decentralization of the archdiocese, the formation of a diocesan research and planning office, and a role for the clergy in selecting bishops and formulating diocesan policy. Cher the course of a decade, an alphabet soup of organi1.a1ions pushed for the reform of the authoritarian practices and structures of the archdiocese of Chicago. While the leacle,ship and 6~)

Chicago History, Spring 1986 organizational character of this movement changed, two things remained constant: ideology and tactics. The priests legitimized their agenda under the banner of the Vatican Council; for their tactics they relied on the confrontational politics pioneered by Chicago's noted community organizer Saul Alinsky. Given. the obstructive tactics of Cardinal Cody-clearly his goal was to wear down and divide the clergy-the priests had little choice but the use or threat of the media, sit-ins, or demonstrations. Cody routinely ignored letters and calls, repeatedly cancelled meetings, and nearly always failed to consult the clergy when making diocesan policy. The priests' major victory was in the area of personnel policy. Effective control over assignments and promotions was transferred from the archbishop to a semi-autonomou personnel board. This board brought about a professionalization of personnel administration-a modified merit system, fixed terms for pastors, a retirement system, etc. As for the other issues, however, the clergy most often won victories on paper that were not translated into practice. These events are but the latest chapter in a long struggle between the hierarchy and the clergy, a fact not emphasized in this account (Dahm is not a historian but a political scientist.) The author also would have profited from a more comparative perspective, drawing on the course of other reform and revolutionary movements. This might have suggested some conceptual framework for understanding the drawn-out struggle in Chicago. Dahm's interpretation of the Chicago priests' conflict with their archbishop is problematic. On the one hand, he faults them for being preoccupied with their own vested interests, that is, personnel matters. From our knowledge of history, however, it is apparent that reform and revolutionary movements are fueled by such concerns, for reformers usually believe thatjustice should begin at home. On the other hand, the author faults the priests for not achieving more and almost blames them for the reforms aborted by Cardinal Cody. But reform movements by their nature have a limited life span. Given tJ1eir scant resources and the immense power and prestige of the cardinal, the diocesan priests made some real gains and effectively dramatized the need for the rationalization of the administration of the archdiocese of Chicago.

Book Reviews Kathryn Grover and Mary Cordato examine two books that shed new light on familiar subjects: housework and world '.s fairs.

More W>rk for Mother: The Ironies of Household Technology from the Open Hearth to the Microwave by Ru.th Schwartz Cowan New York: Basic Books, Inc., 198'.I. $17.!)5

1:--: MorP W<1rk Fur Molhn; Ruth Schwart/ Cowan lakes to t,L~k the "conventional wisdom" thal 1hc path of American technology has led inexorablr to less work for mother. A historian of science, Cowan anal)tes how industriali7.ation has affected the American home since the eighteenth century. She suggests that the development of Lechnolo1,') has nol onl) been incomplete in it inOuence, but it has failed to thwart the ncccssil.)' or expectation that adult women-housewives-would do housework. Cowan interprets the history of housework-a term that emerged in the nineteenth century, as men's work ceased to be restTicted to the home environment-by applying two analytical constructs LO its study. One is to consider seemingly discrete household tasks in terms of the '"work process" that they mandate; the other is to see the house as necessarily interacting with a market economy, or a 'Âˇtechnological system," upon whose industrially produced tools it depends. By analyzing that system, Cowan tries to document the claim that "as the nineteenth century wore on, in almost every aspect of household work, industrialization served to eliminate the work that men (and children) had once been assigned to do, while at the same time leaving the work of women either untouched or even augmented." How, Cowan asks, did men begin to enter the wage market? Tc> answer this question, she desc1ibes the effect of technological "advance" upon various types of housework, and its contribution to the division of labor between the sexes. The move from open hearth to coal-burning stove, for example, meant that cutting, splitting, stacking, and carrying wood-all tasks historically assigned to men and children-became obsolete household activities. And because coal had to be bought, someone in the household had to earn the money to procure it. Meanwhile, for women, coal-burning stoves meant not only a probable increase in the amount of cooking required of them (because the stove enabled them to progress beyond one-pol meals), but also the new chore of-maintaining and cleaning the stove. As men's household duties fell by the wayside and cash

Book Reviews became a n increasing necessi ty, me n e ntered the wagelabor marke t; th e ir sons, wh o we re thus neve r ex pected to do ho usewo rk , foll o wed suit. Cowa n a na lyzes with grea t se nsitivity ho w ho use ho ld too ls have a ide d ho usewo rk in predi ctable ways; she also shows how th ey have rea n a nged it beyond th e co ntro l or anti cipati o n o f th e ho usewife . T he inve n tio n of th e vacuum cl ea ner, she points o ut, probabl y redu ced th e number o f peo ple need ed to clea n ho use, but it increased th e frequ e ncy o f th e chore. Eve n th e d evelo pment o f white bread , a see mingly ne unÂˇal "imp rove me n t.," had profo un d implicati o ns fo r th e ho use ho ld's di visio n o f labo r, in Cowa n's view. As co mm erciall y p rodu ced white fl o urs beca me ava ila ble, me n and childre n no lo nge r need ed to g rind corn o r whea t by hand o r ca rry th e m to a mill to be ground. Wo me n, by co ntrast, we re co mpe lled to spe nd mo re tim e cultiva tin g yeasts for re fin ed-flour breads a nd mo re tim e wo rking th e flour th an had th e ir moth e rs, whose qui ckbreads required no kn eading. White bread was a sign o f afflu e nce: its prese nce in th e ho me impli ed suffi cie nt incom e to bu y co mm e rcia ll y produced fl o ur, a nd suffi cie nt tim e a nd skill o n th e pan o f th e ho usewife. And, as oth er historians have no ted , wo me n we re e nco uraged to ba ke bread th e mselves, rath e r th a n to bu y it, in o rd e r to pro tect th e ir fa milies fro m po te nti a ll y adulte rated comm e rcia l food stuffs. Th e p ro life rati o n o f ho use ho ld in ve ntions a nd o f ame niti es in th e twe nti e th ce ntury o nl y e xace rbated th e ho usewife's wo rkl oad , Cowa n cla ims, by making greate r produ ctivity possible. Instead o f saving la bor, ne w mac hin es created ne w expectations th at acted so as to inc1Âˇease it. lime-stud y a nalyses o f ho use ho lds throughout th e twe nti eth ce ntu ry con o bo rate Cowan's argum e nt fro m 1920 to 1940, wo me n we re uniforml y fo und to have spe nt ro ughl y th e sa m e numb e r o f ho urs at ho usewo rk th at th e ir mo th e rs had , regardl ess o f th e num ber o f a pplia nces th ey own ed . More Work/or Moth.er tri es to ex pla in why Ame ri ca n tec hn o logy has no t created syste ms th at might have e nta il ed less work for mo th e r. Why did coo pera tive la undri es. coo ked food d e li very se rvi ces, co mmuni ty dining clubs, coope rative kitche ns, and a panm e nt hotels fa il ? Cowan's answe r is th at any syste m o r mac hin e th at threa te ned th e e xiste nce o f th e single-fa mil y ho m e was d oo med . He r analys is o f "failed machin es," irw:luding th e gas re fri ge rato r, howeve r, d oes no t buttress this theory. Cowa n conced es th e diffi culty o f ex plaining wh y so m e mac hin es fa il and o th e rs succeed , why we se nd o ut d ry cl ea nin g, for insta nce, but co n tinue to d o laund ry at ho me. In this o th e n vise fo rthri ght boo k, Cowa n avo ids co nfro nting the reaso ns why ho use ho ld tec hn o logy d evelo ped as it did. She p ro poses that "social instituti o ns" me di a te th e e ffect o f "ho use ho ld tec hn o logy" o n ho usework chi e fl y by making some tools (s uch as vacuum cleane rs) avail ab le fo r ho usewo rk, while kee ping o th e rs (ce ntra li1.ed ho use ho ld vac uum syste ms) o ff th e market. But J\ 1ore 'vVork for Mo th.er fa ils to show th e logic o f this med ia ti on. No d o ubt Cowa n wo ul d agree th at so me socia l a nd c ultura l pa ra m e te rs besides Âˇ'eco no mi c

dec isio ns mad e by co mpl ex ocia l instituti o ns o perating over lo ng periods" he lp govern how techn ology develo ps. At th e very leas t, this suggests why we have vacuum clea ne rs but no t ce ntralized ho useho ld vac uum systems. But th e asse rti o n th at ce rtain tec hn o logical syste ms fail ed beca use th ey we re likel y to threa te n th e e xi te nce o f th e single-fa mil y ho me d oes no t ma ke se nse in this insta nce. Unlike o th e r so-called "la bo r-savin g" d evices Cowan cites, ce ntra lized vacuum systems wo uld probabl y have eliminated "drudgery" and "labor" for th e ho usewife, ye t th ey do ubtl ess wo uld have served th e culture's interest in preserving th e single-famil r ho me a we ll as th e vacuum clea ner is pres um ed to have d o ne. Moreove r, Cowa n's analysis of th e appeal o f th e singlefa mil y hom e is in co mpl e te. Altho ugh she di scusses how twe nti e th- ce ntu ry adve rtisin g rh e tori c a ffec te d ho usewi ves' images of th e mse lves, she does no t confro nt pe rvas ive nine tee nth-ce mury no ti o ns abo ut wo me n's importance in th e ho me. More Work/or Mother includ es o ne co mempo rary critiqu e which echoes th e ca uti o nary advi ce o f co uml ess d o mesti c adviso rs after th e Civil Wa r. "S he ca nn o t h ave fo o d cooke d as she likes," Architectural Record argued in 1903 o f th e wo ma n wh o chose to board he r fa mil y rath er th an ra ise it in he r own ho me. "She has no contro l ove r he r se rva nts; she cann o t tra in her childre n to live in he r parti cul ar way; she ca nn o t crea te th at atmosphe re o f mann e rs and things around her own pe rsonali ty, which is th e chi e f source o f he r e ffective ness a nd powe r:' I acce pt Cowa n's cla im th at wo me n we re no t th e dupes o f capitalist-inspired asserti o ns th at th e ir "place" was in th e hom e. Most middl e-class wo me n in th e late nin e tee mh ce ntury saw th e ho m e as th e so urce of th e ir e mpowe rm e nt, not onl y th e ir thra ll to ho usework. Cowan's boo k d oes no t a llow th e read er to appreciate th e ri chn ess and compl e xity of th e social a nd cultural environmelll in whi ch technol ogy e me rges. Still , by conn ecting ho use ho ld techn o logy to its rea l e ffect o n ho usewo rk, More Work/or Mother se rves th e histo ri an as a n e xce lle lll refe re nce a nd sta rting po int for a mo re co mpre hensi ve an alysis o f Ame ri ca n d o mes ti c life. KAT HRYI\ GROVER

THE STRO NC M CS EC M

All the World's a Fair: Visions of Empire at American International Expositions, 1876-1915 by Robert W Rydell Chi cago: T he Uni ,e r5ity of Chi cago Press. 1984. 27.50

o f wo rld 's fa irs co ntinues to ho ld a nosta lgic, ofte n compelling grasp on th e American imagina ti o n, a close r e xa min ation o f so urce mate rial shows th at th e ir inte nd ed purposes were not quite so positi ve o r admi ra ble as has co mm o nl y bee n assum ed . Histo ri a ns have rece ntl y begun to expl o re th e co mpl e x ideology be hind ime rn ati o na l expositio ns a nd have discovered th at th e fa ir o rga nize rs' mo tives, rh e to ri c, and acti vities we re co lo red by prej udi ces, te nsio ns, a nd ALT H OL'C H rHE r RA0fTI ON

Chicago History, Spring 1986 elitist assumptions. Roben W. Rydell. associate professor ofhistOJ") at Montana State University, offers an important example of this neo-revisionist interpretation in All the v\orld '.I a Fair. Rydell argues that the large-scale exhibitions held in American cities between 1876 and 19 J 5 were not merely reflections of popular culture as many histo1ians comend. Instead , the} were deliberate attempts to shape and influence that culture, to make it more consistent with the dictates and imerests of the political , corporate, and scientific leadership of a rapidly expanding indusu·ialcapitalist system. Drawing his evidence from a vast assortmem of manusc1ipt collections, official documents, periodicals, guidebooks, personal memoirs, and other contcmpora1")' accoums, Rydell concludes that throughout the entire forty-year period he studied, world's fair directors espoused a coherent world view of white racial supremacy and a quest for national progress and growth. This view also included imperialistic ambitions and cultural hegemony by the so-called ruling groups of Ame,·ican society at the time. Through exhibits, exhibition organizers aimed to present to the public an impressionistic image of \\'holeness, an image that transcended the class warfare and fragmentation threatening the \\'ell-being and security of the nation in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. In so doing, promote,·s \\'ere able to preseffe and to reinforce the po\\'er relations of the status quo. Professor Rydell's argument is strong and convincing, particularly in his u·eau11ent of scientific racism. Nowhere were tJ1e fair promoters' racial prejudices more emphatic, the author contends, than in the regularly featured ethnological exhibits of non-white racial groups. The exhibits and activities of the \\'bite population were concemrated in the major exhibition halls and at choice fairground locations. In contrast, the \\'Ork, demonstrations, and model living quarters and villages of racial minorities (i.e., Asians. Africans, E kimos, and Latin , Afro, and :'\ative Americans) ,,·ere relega ted to less desirable sites, such as midways among amusements, ,ides, and wild-animal shows. Rydell demonstrates that these racial displays were indeed far more se1·ious than we have been led LO belie,·e. The organizational plan of exposition promoters reflected a deliberate attempt lo depict non-white populations as barbaric, vulgar, and ignorant; whites were portrayed as the custodians of civilization and progress, high moral standards, and wealth. In order to give added credibility and authority to these racist assumptions, world 's fair organizers solicited the assistance of anthropologists from the most respected academic and research-oriented institutions of the nation . By offering scienti fie justification to popular racial beliefs-tJ1e assumed physical, mental, and cultural inferiority of non-white groups-Rydell maimains, promoters of expositions actually reinforced public support for domestic and foreign policies of the dominant ruling classes. Despite its persuasive argument, All tlu v\0rld'.s a Fair suffers from weaknesses common to many ideological studies of this kind. First, RydeWs intellectual framework tends to be one-sided. Although the reader gains a 72

clear understanding of the dictates and imentions of tJ1e contempora1-y political, economic, a nd cultural elite, references Lo the respon e of the participams in these racial exhibits as well as of fair visitors are few. Did non-white groups, for example, acquiesce fully in their subordination at world 's fairs? Or did they resist their reduction to second-class positions) To what extent did racial minorities agree or disagree in their response toward white-dominated exhibits? Equally significant, how did white l'isitors react to the u·eaunent of mino,·ities:, Was there any noticeable opposition by whites to the standards and assumptions set by world's fair promoters? lfso, how did this opposition vary by locality, class, and poinL in time? These important questions need to be addressed in fuLUre studies. Until more is known about the attitudes and actions of both racial victims and the white public toward this world's fair ideology, scholars will not understand the meaning of international expositions in American his101-y and society. R)'clell 's stud)' is limited in another ignificant way. Throughout A// the \\lorld '.5 a h1ir. the author repeatedly generalizes the ideolog) espoused by world's fair leaders, presenting an impression of comensus among them. The reader is unaware of any va1iations among organizers of exhibitions. Yet, there were clear distinctions present among uch promoters, a fact that may have meant ideological diffe1·ences as well. Gender is one example that comes to mind. Beginning in 1876, women played a major role in organi7ing the activities at world 's fairs. They served, for instance, as fundraisers, exhibitors, and promoters of separate women's buildings, as well as officers and representatives of state, national, and international commiLtees. Despite their leadership roles, howeYer, R}dell makes few references to the~e women who devoted their energies, time, and money to make American-based international expositions ~ucccssful enterprises. For him, the dominant ideology promoted at fairs was powerfully masculine in orientation. Unfortunately, this assumption limits the usefulness of his study of world's fairs. To complete the work Rydell has begun, historians need to explore potential differences existing within the exposition leadership, such as gender, which may have precluded a consen,us of ideological opinion. Diel male and female promoters diffrr in their racial attitudes? If so, how and "hy did they transfer these attitudes into concrete manifestation at world 's fairs? Despite these shortcomings, Professor Rydell's book is an important contribution to historical scholarship. He has made a monumental attempt to synthesi1e a diverse and voluminous body of world's fair literature ,~nd to relate his finding to complex cultural beliefs and changes associated with the moderni1,ation of America. The autJ1or has successfully analyzed a number of previously unexplored issues related to world's fairs, and he has raised new questions for further research and debate. Future students of expositions, American culture, and racial ideology will need to be aware of his work. MARY CORI)r\10

NEW YORK UNl\'ERSITY