|
Contents
Chapter I - Youth and Marriage
Chapter II - Farming in Berwickshire
Chapter III - Farming in Roxburghshire
Chapter IV - Waygoings from Winfield Kerchesters and Plenderleith
Chapter V - His Employees
Chapter VI - As a Business Man
Chapter VII - As a Churchman
Chapter VIII - As a Politician
Chapter IX - As a Sportsman
Chapter X - Part 1 - What he did for agriculture
Chapter X - Part 2 - Notes
Chapter X - Part 3 - Retiring Address
Chapter XII - His Last Eight Years
Newspaper Notices
MR JOHN CLAY OF CHICAGO
THE latest book sensation, Mr
Upton Sinclair’s “The Jungle,” has caused an extraordinary and to a great
extent a foolish revulsion of public feeling against the great packing-house
industries of the Chicago stockyards. That the world-famous Armour, Swift,
Morris, and Cudahy firms have been systematically pursuing a suicidal policy
by using old and unwholesome material for can-filling is to the writer of
this note, something incredible. The finest American shorthorn grade cattle
now grazing on the western prairies are only worth two and a half cents per
lb., on foot or gross weight. The finest Californian grapes are only worth
twelve dollars per ton. Why should American meat-packers or wine-makers
adulterate? But on the much-vexed Chicago question, there is no one better
qualified to speak with authority than a very notable son of the Scottish
Border, Mr John Clay, of Chicago, St Louis, Kansas City, and several other
places in the United States. Like some other prominent American cattle men,
it is not always certain where Mr Clay’s interests begin and end. His name
is best known, however, about the Chicago stockyards, that huge area which
might be described as a thousand oattle markets united — a great city of
itself. Mr Clay has become a very wealthy and successful business man in
every sense of the word, and belongs to a family who have been always
prosperous. His brother, Mr Charles Clay, is a partner in the great cereal
firm that owns “Quaker Oats” and some of the best-known cereal foods. His
third and youngest brother is Mr Alexander Thomson Clay, of the firm of
Pringle & Clay, W.S., Edinburgh. But this‘is not a story of worldly success;
it is a little study of the career of a busy man, who has had at all times a
warm heart to his native Borderland.
The namesake and father of the subject of this life-sketch, for many years
must have been paying perhaps a larger amount per annum for land rent than
any other tenant farmer in Scotland, for Kerchesters, Plenderleith,
Winfield, Wedderlie and other rentals, running to thousands of arable,
grass, and moorland acres. When Robert Burns made his famous tour on the
eastern Borders, the Clays were in the front rank of the Berwickshire
“gentlemen farmers.” Their extensive operations were a surprise to the poet,
whose previous experience had been connected with the smaller and more
primitive farming of Ayrshire and Galloway. As a farmer, the late Mr John
Clay was the last and greatest of his family. His sons have taken to other
pursuits, like so many sons of “gentlemen farmers” in England, and in future
the agriculturists who keep a carriage and spend money freely among the
tradesmen of their district are likely to become every year fewer in
numbers, a pity for the welfare of country towns throughout Britain.
Brought up as boy and young man at the large farm of Kerchesters, on
Tweedside, Mr John Clay, of Chicago, was in his early years a familiar
figure in the old Border market town of Kelso. About twenty-five years ago,
in early morning, before Kelso shopkeepers.had taken down their shutters, a
black-haired, swarthy, athletic young man riding through the streets en
route for Wedderlie, in the Lammermoors, was a familiar sight. Later in the
day the same horseman might be seen on his way back to Kerchesters. About 7
p.m. Mr John Clay, jun., for he was the rider referred to, might be seen
coming back to town on a fresh horse, perhaps to attend a meeting of his
favourite debating society, the “Kelso Dialectic,” now one of the defunct
educational associations for young men on the Borders. During Mr Clay’s time
the society was one of the most flourishing and useful in Scotland, and
numbered among its members such men as William Robertson Nicoll, the
far-famed editor of the “British Weekly”; William B. Cook, of Stirling, an
able writer on Scottish antiquarian subjects, and one of the best extempore
speakers in this country; Mr George Deans, of the Glasgow “Citizen”; Mr
William Robertson, Glasgow, who not only manufactures “Robertson’s wonderfu’
flees,” but first-class angling material of every description; Mr W. H.
Thompson, a brother of Leslie Thompson, the artist, and a fine writer of
magazine poetry in his day; and the late Mr W. Fred Vernon, a genuine clever
humourist, and one of the most versatile men of talent the writer has ever
met. Let me give you a glimpse at one of the old Kelso Dialectic Society’s
meetings. Mr Clay, senior, the much-respected president, was in the chair,
and his eldest son, now Mr John Clay, of Chicago (then an aspiring youth),
read a paper on his first impressions of America. Some of the members
mentioned and a few of the younger men remained in the hall after the
society’s ten o’clock closing hour, to chat over the proceedings of the
evening. Fred Vernon, who was always the chief spokesman, said, “What did
you think about that bit of writing describing the Niagara Falls?” One
member gravely remarked that Mr John Clay, jun., had simply stolen the
passage from an American author, and if Mr Nicoll had been present he would
have been able, from his phenomenal memory, to have mentioned the source
from whence the piece of fine writing had been culled. This was the
unanimous opinion, but it turned out afterwards that “the junior ” (as the
essayist was generally called to distinguish him from his father), had
really accomplished a good literary piece from earnest study on the spot.
This little incident has been introduced to give the keynote of Mr Clay’s
character, which is conscientious thoroughness in all duties of life.
Not long after this period Mr John Clay, jun., made a careful study of the
subject of draught horses, and received an appointment from the Canadian
Government to purchase Clydesdales, for the purpose of improving. the breed
of working horses in Canada. This was one of the most fortunate schemes for
assisting farmers in which the Canadian Government ever engaged. Quebec and
Ontario working horses, from the want of an infusion of good draught blood,
had been every year becoming smaller and more weedy in quality. To Mr Clay’s
successful purchases at that time, the splendid “general purpose” horses of
Canada at the present day are to a great extent due. After this work Mr
Clay’s services were largely taken advantage of by Western cattle ranching
syndicates in the United States. Some years later he started on his own
account, chiefly bs a rancher, a cattle buyer, and a cattle salesman. His
success has been extraordinary and well merited, being the result of genuine
industry, combined with business faculty of the best. Mr Clay roughed it in
the wild and woolv West twenty years before barbed wire fencing broke up the
power of the cowboys. Several of his turbulent crew of cow and horseboys met
violent deaths. Perhaps a safer man than Mr John Clay never walked into a
Wyoming drinking bar, filled with desperate characters with revolvers in
their belts and hip-pockets. Boy and man he had always a cool nerve, a kind
heart, and a plain, manly manner. To-day, riding into the Chicago
stockyards, he looks the same quiet figure that he did nearly thirty years
ago, when, mounted on one of his father’s horses, he passed Jovial Jenny’s
toll-house on his way to Wedderlie. The farm of Wedderlie, romantic for
Situation, near Westruther and Twinlaw Cairns, was the last holding that
identified the Clay family with the Borders. The place has always a great
charm for Mr John Clay, and is one of the magnets that has so frequently
induced him to take up residence in Scotland for the hunting season. At
present he is lessee of Sunlaws, near Kelso, the seat of Captain Scott Kerr,
and if health permits he will hunt with the Buccleuch and Berwickshire
foxhounds for the next three seasons. Mr Clay’s much-loved mother still
survives. She resides in Edinburgh, and it may be mentioned of her that when
a young lady she was considered a delightful singer of Scottish songs. This
gift has not descended to her eldest son, the subject of this sketch,
although he is hard to beat at relating braid Scotch stories of a humorous
character. It is a safe thing to say that there are Americans residing in
“millionaire row,” Prairie Avenue, Chicago, who know many events in the
lives of the Rev. James Izzet, the Rev. Dr Taylor, and other worthy people
who resided in the old Berwickshire village of West-ruther thirty years ago.
Mr Clay was very fortunate in his marriage. His wife was a Miss Forrest, who
belonged to an influential Canadian family, originally from Scotland. His
son, it is hoped, will live to follow in his father’s footsteps, and take a
managing interest in his large business ventures at Chicago and other
industrial centres of the United States. |
