THE MCCORMICK ROSE
The Rev. Dana Prom Smith, S.T.D., Ph.D.
A touch of class, a hint of civilization, a love story, and a
tragedy, these are the themes entwined in the tale of the McCormick
Rose, a cutting of which graces the bottom of the steps into Old Main at the North
Campus of NAU. The first McCormick Rose was brought as a cutting by Margaret Hunt
McCormick, the bride of Richard McCormick, Arizona's Second Territorial Governor,
to Prescott in November 1865. A French Boursaid (Rosa gallica), an ancient French hybrid, this pink rose was the first
cultivated rose in Arizona.
The McCormick Rose at Old Main is the granddaughter of the grande dame original McCormick Rose. The
rose at Old Main was a cutting of the McCormick Rose at the Sharlot Hall Museum
in Prescott, which was in turn a cutting from the original rose planted by Margaret
McCormick by front door of the Governor's Mansion in Prescott. The Class of
1934 planted the third generation cutting at Old Main. As one of the three campus
roses of the Alumni Rose Collection, it is also a part of the Arboretum at NAU,
which will be offering rooted great granddaughter cuttings or fourth generation
McCormick Roses for sale through its on-line gift shop.
The McCormick Rose began its journey in Margaret McCormick's
trousseau luggage as she and Richard made their way to Arizona. First, the cutting accompanied them by steamship from New
York to Jamaica and thence to Aspinwall at the Isthmus of Panama. Next, the cutting
went with them overland on mule back to the Pacific Coast where they and the cutting
again boarded a steamship for Acapulco. Richard and Margaret spent a couple of days
touring the deserted city (the French Army had chased the Mexicans out of their
city). Finally, the cutting went with them to Los Angeles.
After a few days rest in Los Angeles, they and the cutting took
a stagecoach to Yuma where they boarded a steamer for a trip up the Colorado River
to Ehrenburg. Then as Margaret described the last leg of the journey, it was "two
ambulances, six government wagons, and two private baggage wagons" crossing
the Mohave Desert to Prescott. Needless to say, the McCormick Rose has demonstrated
itself a hearty cultivar and flourishes today after years of benign neglect in Prescott,
at Old Main, and at Cline Library.
Prescott had barely become Prescott at the time. Before that
it was a single hastily built, ramshackle log cabin on the banks of Granite Creek,
called Fort Misery by John Goodwin, the First Territorial Governor. The Governor's
Mansion to which Richard McCormick brought his well-bred, well-educated, New Jersey bride was a long
cabin with dirt floors and windows without glass. Happily, Margaret was the first
First Lady and was given carte blanche on improvements, furnishings, and decorations.
She had furniture made from pine logs.
The McCormick Rose was but a symbol of the civilization and class
Margaret brought to Prescott. She transformed the rude log cabin into a frontier
mansion where she made a home for Richard and herself, an office for him, and accommodations
for guests. She threw levees, entertained guests, and bade visitors and strangers
welcome. Margaret wrote of her "own dear home" to her friend Emma in New
Jersey, "We danced in the house" and "served cold roast beef &
veal, pies & cakes in variety, almonds, raisins, jellies, coffee, lemonade,
& wine."
A considerable horsewoman, Margaret accompanied Richard on many
of his trips throughout the Territory, becoming acquainted with many of the pioneers,
impressing them with her grace. Well-loved, she touched the frontier settlement
with her charm.
Prescott at the time was a jumping off place for what Richard
McCormick called “terra incognita”, an
unknown and unmapped land, a land fit for only "daring trappers and adventuresome
gold seekers." The log cabin Governor's Mansion was a mansion only in comparison to the
tents, shacks, lean-tos, and wagons making up the rest of the settlement.
In another letter to her friend Emma, she wrote that she
"was never so happy in her life," and that Richard "acts much more
the 'lover' now, than he did before we were married."
On her return from a trip with Richard to San Francisco, she
gave birth to a stillborn child. Thought to have been recovering well, she suddenly
lapsed into a violent sickness and died one day short of her 24th birthday. She
was buried with her stillborn child in her arms in the forest near the mansion.
Her grave was strewn with wildflowers.
The Prescott Arizona Miner in May 3, 1867 wrote that Margaret
was "a greatly loved woman," whose death had "cast gloom over the
community," adding that "no woman in the Territory was more happy."
So when is a rose a rose? When it has a story to tell.
Copyright © Dana Prom Smith 2005
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