Presidential Connection - Benjamin Harrison

Benjamin Harrison - Notes from 3-Volume Biography by Harry J. Sievers, published from 1952-1965
Compiled by Town of Webb Historian Peg Masters - November 2002

Before him were five generations of Harrisons (1632-1791) who were distinguished; their personal and private records almost identical: gentlemen of education and wealth, burgesses, councilors, and militia colonels. Four Virginia generations had preceded Benjamin Harrison (1726-1791) who had signed the Declaration of Independence, a member of the House of Burgesses. This gentleman’s father was struck by lightening, upon which he inherited his father’s estate, which included lands and slaves. He served as Governor of Virginia from 1781-1784, married the niece of George Washington’s sister. They had seven children, four girls and three boys. The second youngest son was William Henry Harrison, born in 1773. He served with the First Regiment of Virginia, which brought him to Ohio, as aide to General "Mad" Anthony Wayne through successful campaigns against the Indians. The perilous penetration into Indian wilderness Captain Harrison met and married Ann Symmes at Fort Washington (ca. 1794), Cincinnati who bore him ten children. The future President Benjamin Harrison was born at North Bend, Ohio, site of his grandfather William's home. William was a Major General in the War of 1812, a Minister to Columbia (appointed by John Quincy Adams), State Senator from Ohio, and the Ninth American President.

Benjamin's father John Scott Harrison, born in Vincennes, Ohio October 4, 1804, was the favorite son of both his parents. Graduating from law school valedictorian of his class, he was forced back to the family farm to manage family affairs when his father went to Columbia. His father gave him 600 acres bordering at the confluence of the Miami and Ohio rivers that was named "The Point." Scott married first, Lucretia K. Johnson in 1824 of Kentucky, who bore him three children. She died ca. 1829. He married second; Elizabeth Irwin, daughter of Pennsylvanian Captain Archibald Irwin, August 12, 1831, the mother of Benjamin. Theirs’ was a pinched existence. Each major rise and fall of the river was a crisis, barely navigable in dry season and turbulent and destructive washing away land in February and March. Their second child, Benjamin Harrison’s first wail was heard on August 20, 1833.

The details of their relentless struggle for survival raising nine children were kept secret from Benjamin during his early years. Mrs. Elizabeth Harrison died in 1850 while Benjamin was away at school. In the fall of 1849, money was so tight, his father seriously doubted that he could keep the two oldest boys in school. The family was laid low at times due to illnesses, cholera, smallpox, influenza, typhoid, dysentery, scarlet fever and eventually the sad news that his baby brother Findlay had died. He grew up at The Point at first a slender, wiry stripling and later became a chubby, square-shouldered boy, so blond as to be almost white-haired.

Benjamin loved to fish, hunt and swim. He often assisted a negro employee, who served the household as a cook, carrying water and wood for him, washing dishes, feeding stock, and could harness a horse in the dark.

Presbyterianism flourished in southwestern Ohio, and the Harrison family knew that Sunday was a day set apart though distances and poor roads kept them from regularly attending church. (Note – Henry Ward Beecher’s first pastorate was five miles from North Bend – his grandfather’s homestead.) Sundays were spent quietly, writing letters or singing hymns in the parlor.

At sixteen he wrote: "The manner by which women are treated is good criterion to judge of the true state of society …. Look at the position woman occupies in this country, instead of being regarded as a slave far beneath the dignity of man, she is considered a superior being, and in the eyes of many an angel, this is hover, the case only when we behold them thought the telescope of love."

A small log-cabin schoolhouse was erected between the Harrison homestead and the Ohio river. One teacher wrote: "Ben was the brightest of the family, terribly stubborn about many things." In addition, as a favorite of his grandparents, he was a frequent visitor at their North Bend home, a patriotic shrine where old soldiers and distinguished visitors rubbed shoulders. The greater portion of his grandfather’s library was devoted to history and biographies, a timeless heritage to which Benjamin was a willing heir.

One month and 10 days after his seventeenth birthday, Benjamin left for Miami University at Oxford, Ohio to continue his college education. It was not easy to leave. The Point and his brothers and sisters who were now deprived of the loving care of a devoted mother. In 1850, John Scott Harrison was well along the road to financial ruin, thereby sending his son to this "Oxford" of the West, rather than a prestigious "Yankee" college.

Harrison received his diploma in June of 1852. The first fifty-year history of Miami College held strong Presbyterian ties, led by Presidents who were also Presbyterian ministers. Upon graduation, Ben was faced with two overwhelming dilemmas: his love-sickness over future wife Carrie Scott, and his confusion over his choice of a life-long profession. The scales seemed evenly balanced between theology and law. Secretly they became engaged.

Following graduation, Ben headed for Cincinnati to study law with the firm of Storer and Gwynne. What greatly distressed him during this time was not the monotonous schedule of continuous studying but living in the city, of inhaling coal dust, the lack of greenery, and fresh air.

His finance Carrie's father, Dr. John W. Scott, came to Farmers College in 1845, and was somewhat a pioneer in the field of education for women. Harrison met him in 1848, was a frequent and welcomed visitor. They had two daughters, Carrie and Elizabeth, and two sons, John and Henry. Carrie Scott won Benjamin’s heart. She was "charming, loveable, petite, though a little plump with soft brown eyes and a wealth of beautiful brown hair. She was born into a fine, cultured and religious home. Her witty manners and irresistible charm submerged his own tendencies to seriousness and reserve.

October 20, 1853, Carrie’s father, Dr. Scott performed the wedding ceremony in the first floor room of her home in Oxford, Ohio. The wedding was a simple one with just family and a few guests. Benjamin and his new bride set out for The Point, his father’s homestead where they would live until he passed his bar exams in 1854 and moved them to Indianapolis, a capital city of nearly 16,000 people. The hum of machinery was heard everywhere. Eight railroads comprising 1500 miles of tracts had been completed with another seven others rapidly approaching. One neighbor and hunting partner describe him as a very good shot, but not much of a fisherman.

August 12, 1854 Carrie gave birth to their first child, a son they named Russell. (Named after Russell Farnum Lord, who married Carrie’s older sister Elizabeth in 1849. – Ironically, their daughter, Mary Lord became the second wife of Benjamin Harrison in 1896.)

The baby and Carrie went to live at The Point until October, when the "sickly season" was over, then joined Benjamin in Indianapolis in a rented three-room house with a shed out back for a summer kitchen. Harrison help with the household chores as their limited budget did not allow hiring a servant. Struggling financially, he was also burdened with the failing health of his wife and child. Shortly after a meager Christmas, he scraped enough money to send Carrie and baby Russell for a visit to the Scott home in Oxford and then to The Point. A financial panic in the west in the late fall of 1854 did not help the situation. In January of 1855, Indianapolis saw an outbreak of smallpox in the city. Luckly a partnership was formed with William Wallace, an aspiring politician, and the law firm prospered for Harrison from 1855 to 1860.

The Civil War Years

First and last Harrison stood with Abraham Lincoln in the railsplitter’s declaration that a house divided against itself could not stand, and that the country must become wholly free or wholly slave. The November election of 1861 brought a sweep of Republicanism for Lincoln, thoroughly and completely. Also elected to his first public office, that of Reporter of the Supreme Court of the State of Indiana, was Benjamin Harrison.

In 1862, responding to Lincoln’s call for volunteers, Harrison began a tour of duty as Colonel of the 70^th Indiana Regiment. Battlefield sentiments sent home to his wife included: "Let the office go …. I would not give up the consciousness that I am rendering humble service to my country in this hour of sore trial for all the honors and riches of the land." And "I believe it is conceded that our regiment was the first under the last call. We are proud of that position and hope to be the last to turn our backs to the enemy."

During the Civil War – he often walked along side his men gaining their respect and admiration. One comrade said, "He was a true man of Presbyterian stock … he was the only general I knew of at whose headquarters family prayers were regularly held. When criticized by a former member of his own company and former newspaper editor that the Colonel imposed religious influence on his men, Harrison lost his usual calm and self-control. He blasted his critic as "a blatant infidel."

In February 1864, Harrison started Ward’s brigade on the march from Nashville to Georgia through mountainous terrain. Weighing only 140 pounds and looking the picture of health, Harrison marched with his troops averaging a pace of 10-13 miles a day. This was only the lull between the storm and hardships yet to come. He fought in the next month’s campaign in more battles than his grandfather did in his lifetime. In June and July of 1864, he walked the skirmish lines together with Sherman. He had advanced to the rank of Brigadier General as the result of actions taken at Peach Tree Creek. Harrison is an, "officer of superior abilities, and of great professional and personal worth," wrote Fighting "Joe" Hooker his superior in the recommendation to the Secretary of War Stanton. By mid-august Ben wrote his wife, "I want rest, both in heart, mind and body."

Carrie’s serious illness at this time caused Harrison great concern. On his thirty-first birthday, August 20^th he received two letters from her with word that she was well along the road to recovery. On September 2, 1864, he wrote to his wife, "Atlanta is ours… and I send you a piece of cedar plucked from a door yard in Atlanta yesterday." Harrison received orders to report to Governor Morton for special duty.

Following a short furlough to Indianapolis, Harrison returned to the western front in Tennessee. Disappointed not to be with Sherman on his campaign to Savannah, he nevertheless distinguished himself on the western front training troops. In January he got his orders to return to Sherman’s great march northward with his old brigade. He decided to bring his wife and two children to New York, stopping for a short visit along the way at Honesdale, Pennsylvania at the home of Elizabeth Lord, Carrie’s sister. The reverie ended abruptly there when the entire family was struck with scarlet fever within hours of their arrival. A doctor certified that he would not be fit to rejoin his command in less than thirty days. Harrison illness was bad, but his disappointment was worse.

Late February, Harrison reached New York, boarded the steamer Fulton and was surprised to find army orders put him in command. It arrived in Hilton Head with event March 2, 1865. April 19^th found him in Raleigh, NC where he planned finally to rejoin his troops. The streets were abandoned and he soon understood why as he entered his own headquarters. Abraham Lincoln had been assassinated. "For hours … men wept, or were stunned, or stood gritting their teeth and demanding that the armistice be ended so there might be one last savage battle," he wrote his wife.

Laying aside his blue uniform with its brigadier general’s star, Benjamin Harrison ("Little Ben") returned to his family and piled-up debts of three years. He proceeded to win a national reputation as a courtroom lawyer in such widely known cases such as Nancy Clem, murderess; Hiram P. Brownlee, "kid gloves" client; and Lambdin P. Milligan, Civil War traitor.

The war had ended. Whatever else characterized the new era, three ideals, union, freedom and democracy would become the principal concern of the United States in the final decades of the Nineteenth Century.

Indiana’s Governor at the end of the Civil War was Oliver P. Morton. The lines of Harrison’s character had been deepened during the Civil War. On the battlefield and in camp he had time to reflect on his married life, devotion to his profession and political life. He resolved to change things after the war and promised Carrie to settle down to a "life of quiet usefulness." His son Russell was almost eleven and his daughter Mary, called "Mamie" had just turned eight. They took regular buggy rides along the White River, and on many evenings Ben worked for half-hour or so in the garden.

By 1867, Harrison’s double career as lawyer and Supreme Court Report resulted in financial and professional triumph, but he suffered a physical collapse from overwork. At the time he had been earning well over $10,000 a year. Little was saved as he provided needed assistance to his father, brothers, and married sisters. While recuperating, he then proceeded to enjoy his first vacation in three years, hunting and fishing in Minnesota.

He now realized that his health had broken because he had failed to use the administrator’s primary tool: the delegation of routine work to subordinates. He hired two clerks. In addition he occasionally found time to hunt wild duck and go bass fishing which kept him healthy, happy and interested in his work.

Poverty, sickness and death in Ohio and Iowa during 1869 and 1870. His chief concern was for his favorite brother, Irwin, the soldier who had contracted tuberculosis. Ben saw that he had a good physician, costly medicines, trips to Denver and the West. The there was Carter struggling to make a go of it at The Point, and John Scott, Jr. who "couldn’t make a dime."

In November of 1869, he took his usual hunting and fishing trip in the "north country." In January 1870, news came that Irwin was responding favorably to the western climate giving Ben hope he could be cured. Sixteen year old Russell was his father’s favorite quail hunting partner, but they also spent time searching for an eastern college. This included trips to Niagara Falls, a tour of New England, and visits to relatives in New Jersey and Pennsylvania. Returning to Indianapolis, Harrison was encouraged by news that Irwin had gained some temporary relief in the mountain air, though not a complete cure. The climate had restored Irwin’s wife’s health, but he died in December at thirty-eight years of age. He and Ben had been close. For Harrison, the year 1870 ended sorrowfully indeed.

In mid-August of 1872, Harrison left the political arena at home for a vacation at Lake Erie and down the St. Lawrence with his former law partner William Wallace and another friend Edward King. Harrison missed Russell, enrolled in a Pennsylvania military school with hopes of matriculating at Cornell University with his father’s approval. He eventually went to Lafayette College, Easton, PA.

July 1876, he set out with his law partner Judge Hines and several other friends for a few weeks of fishing at Sault Sainte Marie. Mrs. Harrison and the children planned to join them in August.

On New Year’s Eve 1877, General Harrison became ill and was confined to bed for a week. For a minimum of a month, he remained relatively inactive – following two arduous campaigns. (Lost to "Blue Jeans" Williams for Governor of Indiana.) June 1877 found the Harrison’s on another East Coast holiday, attending Russell’s graduation at Lafayette and visiting Carrie’s sister Elizabeth in Honesdale, PA, stopping to pay a visit to the Hayes at the White House.

1877, following several deaths in the family, Harrison bought a $36 rowing machine. What sold the serious minded attorney on this device is uncertain.

In the spring of 1878, Harrison visited the Point Farm in North Bend, who managed to prevent foreclosure on the farm by his generosity. His father was seventy-three years of age. On Sunday, May 26, 1878, upon returning from church, the Harrisons received a telegram informing them that death had claimed John Scott Harrison. Following the funeral, the family accompanied the body to the Congress Green Cemetery, where the Harrison family plot overlooked the Ohio River. A chilling discover was made when the recently interred body of Augustus Devin was discovered missing from his uprooted gravesite. A decision was made to hide the body of John Scott Harrison. Ben supervised the lowering of the casket, into an eight foot grave made secure by a number of cemented marble slabs. Two watchmen were hired. If ghouls had stolen young Devin’s body to a medical school for anatomical research, Ben was determined his father’s body would be safe. He and Carrie returned to Indianapolis by train.

John Harrison Jr. with the assistance of a cousin set about solving the mystery of the missing body of Augustus Devin. One clue led them to the Ohio Medical College on the south side of Sixth Street in Cincinnati. There he found, suspended by a rope into a shaft, his father’s body, buried less than 24-hours before.

In July of 1879, Harrison helped adopt a constitution for the State Bar Association, thus becoming one of fifty-three charter members. He was appointed its delegate at the National Bar Association meeting in August in Saratoga, NY. This honor inspired plans for an East coast vacation, where he could dip his weary body into the briny deep and take an undisturbed rest.

January 1881, Carrie slips on the ice resulting in bleeding from the nose, but no cuts to her face. Harrison, newly elected to Congress, was unable to leave for Washington until February due to Carrie’s illness. In March, the family united at the Riggs House in Washington with their children to watch him take his oath of office. Returning to Indianapolis at the end of May, he sought to resume his law work and gave his partner Miller a long vacation. This meant the postponement of a planned trip to Montana, where his son Russell lived. Political headaches and 101 temperatures greatly disturbed him who complained that he couldn’t sleep and wandered from room to room and chair to bed. This mood of self-pity ended abruptly on July 2^nd with news that Garfield lay mortally wounded, victim of an assassin’s bullet.

By mid-July Harrison decided to carry out his plans to see the West. Miller agreed to accompany him on a six-week vacation. The went to Washington where they met Senator John Sherman, his brother General William Sherman, Justice William Strong, late of the Supreme Court, Governor Frederick A. Potts of New Jersey. They traveled together along the Union Pacific as far a Salt Lake, Harrison and Miller branching off on their own, while the Sherman party went on to Yellowstone. They visited Russell working in the U. S. Assay office and as a private rancher near Helena.

As a rousing campaign orator, Harrison rose quickly in politics, first as an active member of the Republican Party, then as a junior senator from Indiana under the Arthur and Cleveland administrations. The most important influence in his political career was Louis T. Michener – Indiana friend and President-maker.

Harrison was a man of five feet, six or seven inches. The diminutive, rotund Chief Executive was somewhat of a mystery, even to his admirers. He spoke in a soft melodious voice, his hair and whiskers were light grey which set off the dignity of his carriage. In November 1888, half a million voters decided Harrison was the man, the person to guide the nation’s foreign affairs policies, organize a new navy, preserve the nation’s forests, and to maintain and enhance the national peace and prosperity.

Harrison, son of a congressman, grandson of a President, and great-grandson of a signer of the Declaration of Independence, became the twenty-third President of the United States at age fifty-three. He had an active intellect firmly backed by moral courage. His background as an ethical lawyer and a praying churchman formed his decision to pilot national affairs under a strict interpretation of the Constitution.

Levi Parsons Morton won an overwhelming victory on the first ballot for the Vice-Presidential nomination. Morton's public life was compressed into six years, two in Congress and four as minister to France. The New York banker enjoyed great popularity and hailed from Rhinebeck. His brother-in-law W. F. Grinnell, Morton suggested be made Consul General in London.

In the Presidential election, Harrison received 100,000 fewer popular votes than Cleveland, but carried the Electoral College 233 to 168. Although Harrison had made no political bargains, his supporters had given innumerable pledges upon his behalf.

Four days of rain preceded the Inaugural ceremonies of President Benjamin Harrison. Leaden skies and heavy clouds overhead while below shopkeepers along Pennsylvania Avenue raised their window seats along the parade route from fifty cents to six dollars. Coming into the Presidency in his mid-fifties at the 100^th anniversary of the inauguration of George Washington, Harrison found the nation at peace and the treasury full. In the inaugural crowd were those who vividly remembered the hero of Tippacanoe, William Henry Harrison. He too took a triumphant walk down the same Avenue to take his oath of office nearly a century before.

Benjamin took the oath of office with his hand on a bible opened to the 121st Psalm which begins, "I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills from whence cometh my help."

Closing his remarks while the crowd shouted its overwhelming approval, Benjamin turned to kiss his wife and daughter. As President and his Vice President Levi Morton took their places in the reviewing stand, their admirers' cheers rose to new heights of enthusiasm.

Invitations came from here and there including an unoccupied cottage of Mrs. Ulysses S. Grant at Long Branch, New Jersey to John Wanamaker’s place at Cape May, to the Newport mansion of George P. Wetmore, former governor of Rhode Island. Instead he took his family to Deer Park in western Maryland for the summer of 1889. This was a mountain retreat developed by West Virginia millionaire Henry G. Davis with the help of his son-in-law and business partner Stephen B. Elkins. They did enjoy the sun and surf at the Wannamaker cottage at Cape May one June weekend, but ex-Senator Davis’ cottage was larger and the least expensive. The Deer Park villa looked like a Swiss chalet with a pointed red roof and deep verandas, sitting midway on an upland and behind a high hill bearing a dense growth of oaks. Mrs. Harrison set aside the downstairs for the family and four rooms for servants. Mrs. Harrison helped prepare the rod and reel equipment for her husband’s fishing on the Youghiogheny River. His office faced a sweeping view of the Allegheny Range.

By mid-July, Harrison joined his family for a few days, returned to Washington for a cabinet meeting, then decided to return to Deer Park. Absent was Russell Harrison, then on a European tour flying high, dining with queens and princesses.

Each day, Baby McKee exercised his grandfather. Outdoor diversions included walking, carriage riding, hunting, fishing and indoors at a nearby hotel the President frequented the bowling alley and billiard tables. From August 6^th to the 16^th, he visited Maine, with some time spent in New Hampshire.

Naturally corpulent Benjamin Harrison had grown even more stout keeping close to his desk. Harrison left the heated city on July 3, 1890 to join his family at Cape May Point. The White House was to undergo extensive repair including electrical wiring over the next four months. (Conflicting statements on page 206 indicate this work was done in the summer of 1891). A sizable, newly built furnished cottage, which the President later saw fit to purchase, had originally been presented to Mrs. Harrison by Postmaster General John Wanamaker and some Philadelphia friends. The gift, which was made by private subscription, had been almost settled when Harrison told Wanamaker he would advise him of his acceptance. Mrs. Harrison was delighted with the sea breezes, the broad porches, and the twenty airy rooms. Her husband decided to become "the donor" while acknowledging his debt to those who were responsible for its construction. His $10,000 check to John Wanamaker was dated July 2^nd.

Editorial criticism was swiftly forthcoming. "Who were these subscribers?" "The President who takes a bribe is a lost President." The Cape May Improvement Company began to preen themselves, publishing Mrs. Harrison’s every movement and advertising adjacent property in the Philadelphia and Baltimore papers. The Philadelphia Inquirer reported, "the Cape May proceeding is a vulgar business driven along without regard to the feelings of the President and his family and Mr. Harrison, who has nerve and common sense, should put an end to it."

Further vacation was taken in September at a mountain cottage at Cresson, Pennsylvania near Altoona, while prolonged White House alterations continued. Rumors spread that the cottage would be a rent-free gratuity of the Pennsylvania Railroad, but a company spokesman stated the cottage was leased to the President at a "fair price."

Harrison continued to occupy the Cape May Point cottage in later years, although following its sale for the very reasonable price of $10,000 in 1896, he would transfer his allegiance from the Jersey Shore to the Adirondack mountains.

Joining the Presidential party at Cresson, Pennsylvania were Mrs. McKee, his daughter, and little Benjamin McKee, grandson, plus Mrs. Dimmick (Carrie’s niece and his future wife). Russell and his family joined them later. Photo: Benjamin Harrison with daughter Mary "Mamie" (Mrs. J. Robert) McKee, and two children, Benjamin "Baby" Mckee, and Mary Lodge Mckee. 1894.

Remarking about a business trip to Europe by railroad magnate Chauncey M. Depew and Commodore Vanderbilt, Harrison observed wrily, "I cannot help feeling a little malice toward American citizens, members of my own family included, who are carrying our good money across the sea. Vacation days at Cape May Point were spent in ocean fishing, carriage rides, and beachside saunters with Baby McKee, although Harrison still found his work consuming an average of four hours daily. During this time, Harrison told a friend that he did not wish to run again in 1892, being influenced by an ailing Mrs. Harrison. Mrs. Harrison remained at Cape May while her husband returned to Washington to inspect a refurbished White House … "

For Christmas came some fine cigars from Vice-President Morton, whom Harrison hoped would run again with him if he himself chose to run. Eventually, Whitelaw Reid, a New York Tribune editor was selected.

1892 – Harrison meanwhile had to deal with his wife’s failing health. A condition diagnosed in April as nervous prostration kept her bedridden until early May when the President managed to get her out for a carriage ride. Soon she was able to make a health excursion with her husband and a doctor to Fortress Monroe where a penciled note by Harrison to his daughter Mame McKee revealed that she was not much better:

She has not shown the improvement we had hoped. There seems to be no reason why she doesn’t come right up except her nerves … It is hard to get her to brace up and take an interest in anything.

Back in the White House, the President spent several hours with her each day, freely admitting that her illness had withdrawn him from politics and business. He left her side only to lay a cornerstone at Grant’s Tomb on Riverside Drive in New York and to dedicate a soldier’s monument in Rochester.

In the spring of 1892, the pressure was upon him to run for re-election. Harrison expressed his desire not to run on numerous occasions, perplexed that his difficulties in office were often attributed to his inability to unbend enough and administrative mistakes. "No Harrison has ever retreated in the presence of a foe without giving battle, and I so have determined to stand and fight."

Friday, June 10, 1892, Harrison received the nomination of his party. He expected the convention would re-nominate Levi P. Morton of New York as his running mate. The "Platt" forces had partial revenge by presenting the name of Whitelaw Reid, whose name was nominated by Senator Edmund O’Conner, seconded by Horace Potter and Gov. Morgan Bulkeley of Connecticut. Harrison was disappointed that Morton was had been bypassed and said the Reid’s trouble with the typesetters union would likely antagonize organized labor.

While summering in the Adirondacks at Loon Lake, tragedy struck the Homestead Works of the Carnegie Steel Company where twenty workers were killed in a battle between locked-out workers and armed Pinkerton guards. Harrison addressed the annual conference of the National Education Association in Saratoga and came out for law and order. Later in July at a rich silver mine in Idaho, thirty workers fell dead in a fight with non-union help. At the request of the Governor, Harrison sent troops and the trouble was quelled. The Chicago Tribune praised the action as a vestige against "anarchical tyranny" but the action taken was without consideration of the workers’ side. Vice-President Morton joined with Henry Cabot Lodge urging the President to schedule appearances. Harrison felt constrained to sacrifice political opportunity to be at the side of his wife whose struggle for life would keep him close during the summer and early fall. Weakened by coughing spasms and a lung hemorrhage, Mrs. Harrison had been confined to her bed since May. It was early determined that she was suffering from tuberculosis—a diagnosis her husband chose to keep to himself. It was advised that she be taken to Loon Lake, a quiet Adirondack village in northern New York. At first she responded so well that carriage rides were enjoyed, as well as an occasional row on the lake; so that Harrison felt it safe to leave her in good hands and to return to Washington where Congress was still in session. The separation proved difficult. Early in August, the Congress adjourned and Harrison returned to Loon Lake. Though the brisk mountain air revived him physically, it failed to restore his wife’s health. She seemed more depressed than ever; neither her husband, children or grandchildren could raise her spirits.

In September, Carrie contracted pleurisy. Hope grew dim and the presidential cottage lived in hourly anxiety. On September 14^th, the public learned that Mrs. Harrison had been stricken with pulmonary tuberculosis. Expressions of concern flooded the rural telegraph office and the family drew consolation from a mounting national crusade of prayers. Unaware of her true condition, Mrs. Harrison asked to be taken back to Washington. The President arranged for a special car equipped with a hospital bed for the 500 mile trip. An Army ambulance met the train in Washington at 9am September 21^st. The newspapers described the President as "much afflicted, and his eyes were red from weeping with dark rings under them." Other tales told of sleepless nights at the bedside of his wife. At the White House, family vigils continued for another month. Carrie died the morning of October 25^th. The funeral was held in the East Room on October 27^th. Spectators by the thousands lined Pennsylvania Avenue as the funeral party made its way to the depot for the final journey to Indianapolis.

On election eve, November 1892, President Harrison awaited the results in the Cabinet room with his daughter Mrs. McKee and two nieces Mrs. Dimmick and Mrs. Parker. In the telegraphy room across the hall was Russell, a nephew and a few cabinet members. At three in the morning Harrison retired knowing that he had been defeated. He lost to Cleveland by just under 375,000 votes with 277 electoral votes from Cleveland to 145 for Harrison.

Harrison’s final weeks as President began quietly. On New Year’s Day 1893, "the quietest within living memory" mourning for Mrs. Harrison continued and the traditional open house was not held. When scarlet fever struck little Marthena Harrison, the White House was quarantined. Harrison described his last day in Washington as "fearfully bad", the inaugural ceremonies marred by snow. Later he was escorted to the railroad depot by his out-going cabinet, and was overwhelmed to see hundreds of people at the station in Indianapolis to greet him and shake his hand.

He returned to a limited law practice, and accepting no retainer less than $500. Necessary repairs were made to his home, but his greatest pleasure came from his two grandchildren Mary and Benjamin McKee. That summer of 1893 he returned to Cape May and devoted a part of each day to preparing six law lectures to be given at Stanford the following year. The result was later revised for publication and appeared as: "Views of an Ex-President."

He spent the summer of 1894 at Monmouth Beach, New Jersey, determined to avoid politics. After forty years on the political stump, he made only one speech that fall. Levi P. Morton had accepted the G.O.P. nomination for governor of New York and Harrison gave a rousing speech at the end of October for him in the Carnegie Music Hall. His $50,000 income for 1894-95 came primarily from his law practice and other income derived from investments, from magazine articles ($30k from Ladies Home Journal), and lectures. His charitable work continued to expand and included a sizable annual donation for the education of Negroes in the south, and to the Indianapolis Orphan Asylum. Family gifts or loans were also continued.

1895 things were more to his liking. Despite a serious bout with the grippe in March, he continued in good health working on litigation from January to May. "Only with the advent of a summer vacation in the Adirondacks could he claim immunity from the press and its reporters. His first camp was a "rude primitive board shanty house" where somehow he managed to write articles, to hunt and to fish. He devoted the summer to his grandchildren and to a few close friends. He so loved the outdoor life that he decided to build his own camp the following summer and name it "Berkley Lodge" after the Virginia plantation of his great-grandfather, Benjamin Harrison, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence. Harrison wrote to a friend August 1, 1895, "Old Forge, NY is a beautiful and delightful region" and added "we have not had a hot day or night since we have been here."

Now 62 years of age, Harrison decided to marry again. His choice was the widow Mary Lord Dimmick, the daughter of his first wife’s sister, cousin of his two children. Writing to his son Russell he said, "It is natural that a man’s former children would not be pleased with a second marriage. It would not have been possible for me to marry one I did not very highly respect and very warmly love. But my life now, and much more as I grow older, is and will be a very lonely one and I cannot go on as now. A home is life’s essential to me and it must be the old home. Neither of my children live here, or are they likely to do so, and I am sure they would not wish me to live the years that remain to me in solitude."

The announcement was made during the Christmas season of 1895 and it was decided to hold the ceremony the following April at St. Thomas Episcopal Church in New York City, rather far removed from the family scene. Former Vice-President Levi P. Morton and most of his ex-Cabinet members were among the forty guests attending. Former Navy Secretary Benjamin F. Tracy served as best man. They returned to Indianapolis immediately and found themselves in great favor as guests to parties and diners. "I am not devoted to music but Mrs. Harrison is," he said, "and I am devoted to her."

In July they fled to the Adirondacks where he wrote to a friend, "he found grading, tree trimming and floating logs to the mill more enjoyable than the political canvass." And to another he wrote when outdoor work resulted in lameness, "I can sit on a tree stump and give orders as well as anyone." He did finally agree to go to New York in late august to make the key-note speech for McKinley. The speech was carried in papers from Maine to California.

On February 21, 1897, a daughter Elizabeth was born to them and was named after his own mother. Law, not politics, would engage him the remaining four years of his life. His daughter brought new joy to the once broken household. From 1897-1901, paralleling McKinley’s presidency, Harrison’s life proved to be the busiest, happiest, and most rewarding of his career. He reached full potential as elder statesman, while achieving lasting fame as an international lawyer. But Mrs. Harrison and baby Elizabeth and other domestic duties claimed much of his attention. He declined invitations to speak at the annual American Bar Association and the National Education Association with regret as well as declined all-expense paid trips to Europe and Japan along with scores of other refusals.

In 1898 Harrison was retained by the government of Venezuela as chief counsel in a boundary dispute with British Guiana. The case would be heard before a five-man tribunal in the summer of 1899. He faced the daunting task of sifting through documents dating back four centuries during the period of European discover and colonization of South America. Non-Spanish speaking at the onset and knowing little about Venezuelan history, Harrison by the end of two years was considered close to an expert. In Indianapolis he refused all other legal employment and turned his home into a law office to avoid distractions.

In the Adirondack woods and along the Jersey shore, he had a private workroom. Toward the end of September 1898, he wrote his partner Benjamin Tracy (former Navy Secretary) from the Adirondacks, "I have been working every day this summer except Sundays." Finally in February of 1899, Britain and Venezuela exchanged printed cases, counter cases, atlases, and appendices amounting to 23 volumes. During this time, his son Russell, now Major Harrison, departed for Cuba.

Harrison, his wife and three servants booked passage on the liner St. Paul for Europe, sailing from New York May 17, 1899. Harrison proved to be an early riser and good sailor, strolling the decks with two-year-old Elizabeth, usually dressed in a red coat and hood. The Venezuelan Judicial hearing began in Paris June 15^th. The decision October 3, 1899 confirmed Britain’s possession of nine-tenths of the land in dispute. Mrs. Harrison wrote home, " "We are all furious … I never did believe in arbitration, and if such a thing is to be, there should be more than one arbitrator who belongs to another country not concerned in the dispute." In London, it was said, we got what we wanted, all the gold bearing region, that was the real source of the trouble. Venezuela was in the throes of a revolution, having been cheated and overwhelmed by British power. The American and many European papers supported Harrison’s charge that justice had miscarried. The Harrisons left Paris quickly stopping a Cologne to see the cathedral and on to Berlin on October 6^th. A brief tour of Belgium and England completed his only European trip. He returned to Indianapolis convinced that he had failed to further the cause of International justice.

His standing at home was not diminished by defeat and he was soon arguing cases before the Indiana Supreme Court and in the highest tribunal at Washington. In the spring of 1900 he took his family on along trip through Yellowstone and the Northwest, rather than attend the GOP national convention which re-nominated McKinley.

June through September found him in the Adirondacks far from politics. He planned an active legal and literary role for 1901, but in early March he contracted a severe cold which quickly developed into pneumonia. A battery of physicians could offer no hope and he died at 4:45pm on March 13, 1901.

His body was laid to rest in the State Capitol. Thousands of Indiana soldiers and mourners held a public demonstration led by survivors of his old regiment. Condolences were received by President McKinley and former President Cleveland. McKinley headed to Indianapolis for the funeral March 17^th. Hoosier poet and neighbor James Whitcomb Riley spoke briefly but poignantly and said General Harrison, "… was a statesman, soldier, humanitarian, lawyer and as an element of force for the betterment of the world. Above everything else Harrison was fearless and just.

"The Centennial President of the United States, when judged in comparison with Andrew Jackson, Abraham Lincoln, Theodore and Franklin Roosevelt, not to mention more recent leaders in the White House, seems to emerge greater as a man than as a president. … For his era, however, Benjamin Harrison compiled a strong record of constitutional government which enabled the country to approach the threshold of world power with prudence and caution. (Sievers, Vol. III, p. 277)
 Page references to quotes or other footnoted material available by contacting the Town of Webb Historian.

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Last Updated: November 11, 2002