Member: Cox, Mrs. Archibald (Frances Perkins) '25
1928 Treasurer Book Oct. 19th $5.00
1929 Treasurer Book Active $5.00
1930 Treasurer Book Associate
1932 Directory* Address: 1010 Rahway Road
* = This directory is not dated but presumed to be from the year 1932.
NOTE: Mrs. Archibald Cox, 1010 Rahway Road is listed as an "Associate Member" In addition, her entry has been crossed out.
1931 Treasurer Book: Mrs. A. Cox (crossed out) – Resigned April 23 -
1938 Treasurer Book: Mrs. Edw. V. Cox 1/15/38 Pd. 4/8/39 Pd
Mrs. Fred J. Cox 2/1/38 Pd.
Both names are crossed out and this notation is written in the margin "Resigned 3-11-39"
We had both Mrs. Edward Cox and Mrs. Fred Cox as joining the club in 1935.
Mrs. Cox is related to the Perkins family of Plainfield and the Plainfield Garden Club.
Day, Mrs. Thomas Mills (Anne Perkins Smith) '16
Perkins, Mrs. Seymour, Jr. (Esther Moody Barlow) '49
Frances Perkins Cox
There were two other "Mrs. Cox" on our membership roster. Sister-in-laws?
Cox Mrs. Edward V. 1935 1953
Cox Mrs. Fred. J. 1935 1953*
Archibald Cox, Jr.
Archibald Cox, Jr., (May 17, 1912 – May 29, 2004) was an American lawyer and law professor who served as U.S. Solicitor General under President John F. Kennedy. He became known as the first special prosecutor for the Watergate scandal. During his career, he was a pioneering expert on labor law and also an authority on constitutional law.
Early life and law career
Cox was the son of Archibald and Frances Perkins Cox. A native of Plainfield, New Jersey, he attended the Wardlaw-Hartridge School, then called Wardlaw Country Day, and St. Paul's School. Cox graduated from Harvard College during 1934 and from Harvard Law School during 1937 where he was a member of Phi delta phi legal fraternity. He was a clerk for U. S. Judge Learned Hand of the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Second Circuit. After his clerkship, he joined the Boston law firm of Ropes, Gray, Best, Coolidge and Rugg, now known as Ropes & Gray. During World War II, he was appointed to the National Defense Board, and then to the Office of the Solicitor General.
After the end of World War II, Cox joined the faculty of Harvard University, where he taught courses in torts and in administrative, constitutional, and labor law. During the 1950s, he became an informal adviser and speech-writer for John F. Kennedy, who was then a U.S. senator from Massachusetts. Cox assisted Kennedy's campaign for President during 1960. During 1961, Cox joined the Kennedy administration as solicitor general. At a time when civil rights protesters were routinely chased with dogs and clubbed, he often appeared before the Supreme Court in support of their cause. Among the cases he was involved with were Baker v. Carr, which set the constitutional standards for reapportionment; Heart of Atlanta Motel v. United States, which set a precedent by recognizing the Constitution's authorization for federal laws requiring desegregation of public accommodations for African-Americans; and South Carolina v. Katzenbach, which upheld the Voting Rights Act. During 1965, he returned to Harvard's law school.
Watergate special prosecutor
Main article: Watergate scandal
On May 19, 1973, Cox took a leave of absence from Harvard Law School to accept appointment as the first Watergate special prosecutor. Cox's appointment was a major condition set by the management of the U. S. Senate for the confirmation of Elliot Richardson as the new attorney general of the United States, succeeding Richard G. Kleindienst, who had resigned during the spring of 1973, as a result of the Watergate scandal. That summer, Cox learned with the rest of America about the secret taping system installed in the White House on orders from President Richard M. Nixon. During the next few months, Cox, the Senate Watergate committee, and U.S. District Judge John J. Sirica struggled with the Nixon Administration over whether Nixon could be compelled to yield those tapes in response to a grand jury subpoena. When Sirica ordered Nixon to comply with the committee's and Cox's demands, the President offered Cox a compromise: instead of producing the tapes, he would allow the Senator John Stennis (Democrat – Mississippi) to listen to the tapes, with the help of a transcript prepared for him by the White House, and Stennis would then prepare summaries of the tapes' contents. Cox rejected this compromise on Friday, October 19, 1973. On Saturday, October 20, 1973, Cox had a press conference to explain his decision. That evening, in an event dubbed the Saturday Night Massacre by journalists, President Nixon ordered Attorney General Elliot Richardson to dismiss Cox. Rather than comply with this order, Attorney General Richardson resigned, leaving his second-in-command, Deputy Attorney General William Ruckelshaus in charge of the Justice Department. Ruckelshaus likewise refused to dismiss Cox, and he, too, resigned. These resignations left Solicitor General Robert Bork as the highest-ranking member of the Justice Department; insisting that he believed the decision unwise but also that somebody had to obey the president's orders, Bork dismissed Cox. Upon being dismissed, Cox stated, "whether ours shall be a government of laws and not of men is now for Congress and ultimately the American people to decide."
The dismissal of Cox suggested the use of independent counsels – prosecutors specifically appointed to investigate official misconduct; ultimately, Congress enacted a law to provide for a procedure appointing independent counsels, a statute that the U.S. Supreme Court upheld during 1986. This statute, which had an expiration date inserted on its original enactment, expired without renewal.
Ultimately, on 8 August 1974, after the U.S. Supreme Court voted by 8 to 0 to reject Nixon's claims of executive privilege and release the tapes (with then Associate Justice William H. Rehnquist recusing himself because, as an assistant attorney general during Nixon's first term, he had taken part in internal executive-branch discussions of the scope of executive privilege), Nixon announced his decision to resign as president.
After Nixon's resignation, Cox became chairman of Common Cause, a major public-interest advocacy organization. He also became the founding chairman of the Health Effects Institute.
Cox also returned to Harvard Law School, where he taught constitutional law and a seminar on the First Amendment for many years. Before he had gone to Washington during 1973, he had a reputation as a tough and sometimes harsh teacher, but after his return, he had a reputation as a humorous, considerate, and gentle teacher who won the admiration and affectionate regard of his students. After he retired from Harvard, he received a special appointment to the faculty of Boston University School of Law. In 1974 he spent a year at the University of Cambridge as the Pitt Professor of American History and Institutions.
Cox also continued his career as an expert appellate advocate. During 1976, Cox argued Buckley v. Valeo before the Supreme Court; at issue in this case was the constitutionality of post-Watergate legislation establishing public financing for presidential election campaigns. The Court upheld most of the provisions of the campaign finance law, giving Cox a significant victory. During 1977 and 1978, Cox also argued the case of Regents of the University of California v. Bakke before the Court, defending the University of California at Davis medical school's affirmative action system of admissions against constitutional challenge. The Justices divided, with four voting to end the system as invalid under the Civil Rights Act of 1964 without any need to reference the constitutional issue, and four voting to uphold affirmative action as constitutional; Justice Lewis H. Powell made the deciding vote, referencing the constitutional issue and holding that in some cases race could be deemed a valid factor in admissions to institutions of higher education.
During 1979, when a vacancy opened on the U.S. Court of Appeals for the First Circuit (which includes Cox's home state of Massachusetts), Senator Edward M. Kennedy proposed Cox for the vacancy. This proposal from the senior senator of the state most affected by the choice of judge ordinarily would have won Cox the appointment, but the administration of President Jimmy Carter resisted the choice since Cox had not supported Carter for President, and ultimately Cox was not appointed to the vacancy.
Among Professor Cox's many honors was his being made, during 1991, an honorary member of the Order of the Coif. Professor Cox also received the Paul Douglas Ethics in Government Award and the Thomas "Tip" O'Neill Citizenship Award.
On January 8, 2001, Cox was presented with the Presidential Citizens Medal by President William Clinton.
Cox's many books include The Warren Court: Constitutional Decisionmaking as an Instrument of Reform (Harvard University Press, 1969); The Role of the Supreme Court in American Government (Oxford University Press, 1976), Freedom of Expression (Harvard University Press, 1982), and The Court and the Constitution (Houghton Mifflin, 1987). He also wrote many leading law review articles and was co-editor of the leading casebook on labor law.
Death and legacy
Cox died at his home in Brooksville, Maine, of natural causes, on the same day as Sam Dash, chief counsel to the Senate Select Committee to Investigate Campaign Practices during the Watergate scandal.
The New York Times wrote, "a gaunt 6-footer who wore three-piece suits, Mr. Cox was often described as 'ramrod straight,' not only because of his bearing but also because of his personality."
Cox was the great-grandson of William M. Evarts, who defended President Andrew Johnson during his impeachment hearing and became Secretary of State in the Hayes administration. He was also a direct descendant of Roger Sherman, a Connecticut signer of the Declaration of Independence.
Frances Perkins Cox
The old Evarts estate in Windsor, with its sprawling collection of homes and wooded acres nestled under Mount Ascutney, left a brilliant impression on Archibald Cox, Jr., from the earliest days.
"The earliest days" for Archie began as soon as his mother could wrap him in a blanket and drive him from their home in Plainfield, New Jersey, to the mountains of Vermont. A worn, brown leather guest book that his grandmother Perkins kept for Runnemede Lodge beginning in 1907 recorded that Frances Perkins Cox and Archibald Cox, Jr. (Archie and his mother), arrived in Windsor from Plainfield on June 12, 1912, less than a month after young Archie was born on May 17. His name was inscribed in the guest book carefully, as if by a first-time mother hoping that someone would one day open the brown book searching for this special name, the ambitious dreams of a mother envisioning boundless success for her first-born child. (The leather book would of course be opened for just that purpose, eighty years later, but it was through no help of the boy himself.)
Archie's mother was the granddaughter of William Maxwell Evarts, once-famous statesman from New York who had defended President Andrew Johnson in his infamous impeachment trial. By 1912, not all Americans appreciated the full importance of the name Evarts; in Windsor, however, the Evarts family name was as good as the golden history of Vermont itself.
Frances Cox (her friends called her "Fanny") was a striking woman–five foot, eight–with a straight nose and chiseled chill that would be inherited by her oldest son and the six other children who followed. She enjoyed playing bridge, reading, drinking tea, and reciting poetry with older ladies who came to spend the afternoon. Even after motherhood arrived, she still found time for card games, picnics, hikes up Mount Ascutney, and family swims announced at the drop of a hat–she simply carried the new baby in tow.
The guest book recorded that Archibald Cox, Sr. (the father), arrived at Windsor on July 12, 1912, from New York. He visited his wife and baby for a long weekend and then vanished, traveling back in the Pullman car of the White Mountain Express, a common compromise for a busy lawyer from the city. He was the son of Rowland Cox, a Philadelphia Quaker who had served in the cavalry in Pennsylvania and was transferred to Illinois during the Civil War, but somehow wound up in Manhattan as a prominent nineteenth-century lawyer. He authored Cox's Manual of Trade Marks and gained prominence by defending the copyright of the Oxford Bible against a New York publishing company. When he died suddenly in 1900, his son took over his father's law practice fresh out of Harvard Law School, quickly becoming an expert in copyrights, trademarks, and patents.
It was a settled part of family lore that neither Archibald, Sr., nor his father would consider having a partner in law practice, a symptom of the unabashed "streak of independence in the family." Nevertheless, Archibald, Sr., managed "to hold the practice" with enough flair and verve to become one of the more well-established members of the community in Plainfield, New Jersey. That affluence only burst into greater prominence when he established Johnson & Johnson's right to use the "red cross" symbol as its trademark.
The Coxes and Perkinses (not coincidentally, when it came to Archie's parents pairing up) were both prominent families in Plainfield, a town of thirty or forty thousand on the New Jersey Central and B & O railroads, halfway between New York and Princeton. According to family lore, Archibald, Sr., had spotted Frances Perkins walking down the steps of his parents' home in Plainfield when she was only seven years old. He announced, "There's the girl I'm going to marry." Although he had to wait a decade (he was eighteen years older), the two ended up sweethearts and made up for lost time with seven children.
The senior Archibald grew into a tall, attractive man with silvery hair and a pipe in his teeth, who favored bow ties in the casual months of the summer. He was president of the Board of Education in Plainfield. The consummate host, he invited a swarm of Plainfield neighbors to visit his home for a gala gathering each Christmas, complete with blazing candles that dripped wax on a giant spruce tree, and his own fireman standing by "just in case." He was a gregarious, outgoing, charming man, who was frequently asked to run for mayor. But his busy law practice prevented extended forays into local government or politics. In 1911 Archibald Cox, Sr., wrote in his class report to old Harvard College friends: "There is nothing really to write. I have done nothing but practice law, and it is hardly worth while to write the things which I have not done." Except for his natural charm and his ability to gulp down two eggs in a single breath before rushing off to catch the 7:55 train to New York, even his seven children would learn regretfully little about him by the end of their time together.
One mystery that family members never unraveled was why young Archie was bestowed with the nickname "Billy" as soon as he was born. His father was certainly proud to have a boy; Frances Cox recorded that her husband walked up and down the hallway singing, "There'll be a Hot Time in the Old Town Tonight!" when his first son was born. But he made no secret that he disliked the idea of providing the world with an "Archibald, Jr."; he began calling his first son "Bill" the moment his wife introduced the baby. The rest of the Coxes never figured out whether "Bill" was derived from the revered family name of William M. Evarts, or whether it was a random selection that meant "anything is better than another Archibald." No matter how the nickname came about, as soon as Archie, Jr., became old enough to express an opinion, he made clear that he would just as soon use his own name. But the request was never quite honored by his family, who continued to call him "Bill"–out of force of habit–for the rest of their lives.
By the time 1914 arrived and Archie was two, the boy was able to scribble a "B" next to his name in his grandmother's guest book in Windsor, presumably for "Billy." And by the time he reached the age of nine, in 1921, Archie's signature would appear in the same guest book with a clear, strong hand as "Archibald Cox, Jr."
The trips from New Jersey to Vermont were recorded each summer like the steady ticking of a clock. Runnemede Lodge was a red brick house with white pillars, built in 1825, that Grandmother Perkins had inherited as one of the twelve children of William M. Evarts. It was the second of six houses (two were later torn down) tucked behind a long, white picket fence surrounded by wide lawns and sweeping ferns that the statesman had purchased along Main Street to allow his children the privilege of living this idyllic lifestyle in perpetuity. They were six magnificent storybook houses, fanned out like a lost millionaire's row in this private, withdrawn, unpretentious New England town. Here the Cox family grew its own network of Yankee roots.
As Archibald Cox, Jr., grew up tall and lanky, with blond hair and a sculpted chin of determination, summers remained synonymous with Windsor: swimming in "the Pond" out back, canoeing up to the sluice gates, riding Morgan horses down old carriage roads laden with pine needles, visiting his Evarts cousins at their forty-room farmhouse-mansion (with thirteen baths) on Juniper Hill, hitting baseballs, and exploring Paradise. The hike over to Paradise was less than twenty minutes at a brisk pace. Across the dike, a hiker followed a path overgrown with wild honeysuckle bushes. Turtles and unseen pond creatures plopped into the water with each footstep. Cool winds and trails wound through the Evarts property, past lily pads and trickling water, into woods that gobbled up summertime like an enchanted forest. From the high woods of Paradise, one could see the very top of Mount Ascutney. It almost touched the sky, towering over the rest of the granite hills (if one squinted) like the head of a proud father, arms outstretched, watching over this special domain. It was an ideal hiding place in the 1920s, where boys and girls could think high thoughts, try out phrases, experiment with daring ideas. Here, the Cox children could appreciate the family's glimmering past in one eyeful. And create their own visions of the future.
In this isolated New England setting, Archie grew up steeped in the family history of William M. Evarts: the lineal relationship to American statesman Roger Sherman; the famous speeches bound in leather on the bookcase; the town hall and church and public library that his great-grandfather had helped found in the 1800s. These not only shaped Archie's interest in history from the earliest days, but gave him "a strong sense of continuity."
Windsor was an idyllic setting for a boy to spend summers. It was made even more special by the weather-worn covered bridge that led from Windsor to Cornish, New Hampshire, just across the Connecticut River. Here in Cornish an enchanted community burst to life each summer, drawing within its folds some of the greatest literary-artistic figures of the late 1800s and early 1900s: the sculptor Augustus Saint-Gaudens, who had once been commissioned by William M. Evarts to make a bust of Chief Justice Waite for the Supreme Court in Washington; the artist and illustrator Maxfield Parrish, who used Mount Ascutney as a background in choice paintings; the American novelist Winston Churchill, who set several books in the quiet New Hampshire town; and the famous New York judge Learned Hand, who was already becoming a legend by the 1920s. Archie's uncle, Maxwell Evarts Perkins, noted editor at Scribner's in New York who was discoverer, silent collaborator, and father figure to some of the greatest literary talent of the 1920s and 1930s–F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, and Thomas Wolfe–also settled into one of the six houses on the old Evarts estate each summer with his family, adding another spark to the tiny New England community. It was a world of creative thinkers and public success stories that left a permanent imprint in the minds of the Cox children.
When he wasn't hiking mountain trails and soaking up the outdoors in Windsor, Archie plunged into reading of all kinds–literature, history, poetry, light stories. Sunday nights (the maids' night off) were special occasions. The Cox children would gather together in the living room after supper, where they would select a favorite poem to recite under the flicker of a glass kerosene lamp. They sat beneath a portrait of Grandfather Perkins hung over the fireplace; he had been a promising art critic who helped found the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, but he was tragically killed in 1886 when his horses got spooked in a thunderstorm and crashed into a stone wall near Paradise.
Under Grandfather Perkins's stern gaze, Archie had started off as a "frail and nervous" child, according to his sister Betty. But with age he grew in confidence; his voice soon became "extremely loud" and certain. Archie's favorite poem came from the Home Book of Verse. He could deliver it with great style again and again by heart, even into old age:
What have you been for the last three year
That you haven't heard folks tell
How Jim Bludso passed in his checks
The night of the Prairie Belle?
It was a poem about the wreck of the Prairie Belle steamship on the Mississippi River, written by John Hay, Abraham Lincoln's private secretary and later secretary of state under Presidents William McKinley and Theodore Roosevelt. The hero of the poem had two principles that guided him as a riverboat captain on the Mississippi. First, he would never let another steamboat pass him, because he wanted to be the best at what he did. Second, if the Prairie Belle ever took fire, he swore a thousand times that he would deliver each passenger safely to the shore, no matter what the costs. For a young Archie Cox, these two oaths of the rough-hewn riverboat engineer revealed a dogged virtue:
Through the hot, black breath of the burnin' boat
Jim Bludso's voice was heard
And they all had trust in his cussedness,
And knowed he would keep his word.
And sure's you're born, they all got off
Afore the smoke-stacks fell–
And Bludso's ghost went up alone
In the smoke of the Prairie Belle.
One cousin described Archie as a "loner." But this was not exactly the word. The lineup of the Cox children spanned sixteen years, making them actually two separate "generations": Archie (born in 1912); Betty (born 1913); Mary, called "Molly" (1916); followed by Rob (1919); Max (1922); Louis (1925); and Rowland (1928). The next oldest boy in the family, Rob, was seven years younger. With such an age gap, Archie frequently found himself climbing, hiking, and reading away the time by himself. His sisters, Betty and Molly, were his friends, but they did things that girls did in the 1920s–cutting out dolls, playing pencil-and-paper games. Archie's parents had bought him a collie back in Plainfield, but he was "the opposite of a boy devoted to his dog." Trips across the river to Cornish, where he could play tennis with boys his own age, were more his style. Sunday baseball games in Paradise with pickup teams of summer transplants were a favorite pastime. Girls were welcome; the shortage of shortstops made it pointless to discriminate.
Archie was "comfortable with people. And they were comfortable with him." He rarely got ruffled, even when intentionally provoked. His sisters were haunted by the fact that their father's name was Archibald, and flashed their tempers when friends recited the name with a stray inflection or a smirk. The only one in the family who "didn't seem to mind" was Archibald, Jr. He liked his name; he didn't worry about meaningless jokes.
From his father, Archie would inherit an old-fashioned work ethic; a tiny spark of wit (and an even deeper admiration of it in others); a gracious, polite demeanor; and a general love for newspaper headlines, action, and public events. From his mother, he would inherit less tangible qualities: an abundant willingness to accept; an interest in the creative side of life rather than the commercial world; an optimist's view of humanity, assuming the best of all who entered his doorway; a love for the outdoors; and a quiet Yankee reserve that in later years would be mistaken by those who did not know him for arrogance (when it came much closer to shyness).
From both parents, Archie would inherit an unusual merging of New England and New Jersey dialects. "We all have a queer accent," sister Molly would smile. It was precise and methodical. Lips were pursed. The tones were high-sounding, mellifluous, as if the speaker was reading from a book of old English verse while holding back any trace of sentiment or emotion. In the Cox family, emotions and exuberance and effusiveness were not paraded through the house. These were best left for private settings, places like the woods or the mountains.
For "Billy" Cox, a feel for history and an instinct toward pursuing worthwhile opportunities in life did not end when his family packed up their belongings each August and drove home from Vermont to New Jersey.
The house on 1010 Rahway Road in Plainfield where Archie spent much of his childhood was a long, low, white building with green shutters, a Dutch colonial custom-designed by the architectural firm of White and White. His father had it built in the early 1920s on a nine-acre plot with a hillside that had been used to grow potatoes during World War I. The house represented increasing profits from the senior Cox's law firm and corresponded with the arrival of a fifth child, Max, the only Cox child born in a hospital, because the house was unfinished.
Years later, Archie would preserve a vivid memory of this home, its seven bedrooms, oil furnace, claw-foot bathtubs, fireplaces, maids quarters, tennis court (his father liked to beat him and proclaim "Brother, your tail hangs behind!"), and chauffeur's apartment over the garage, all symbols of Roaring-Twenties wealth. Archie also remembered the presidential election of 1928, when his father brought home their first console radio (Archie himself had a tiny crystal set) to listen to the speeches of Al Smith, the Democratic presidential candidate running against Herbert Hoover. "He bought a big, heavy console," Cox remembered. "And I have a very vivid picture ... of my father and mother, myself and my sister Betty ... sitting in the living room, listening to the broadcasts of Al Smith's and maybe Hoover's speeches. And on the dining room chairs, shrouded in the dark would be sitting the maids.... I don't think they resented this. I think that the relations between my family and the `retainers' were very good. At least that's my picture. But the symbols of status were probably much more important than any ideas of status themselves."
Maids and nurses and chauffeurs were paid "New York wages" of $425 per month for the five of them, a tidy sum. But young Archie discovered that he was one of the only boys in their affluent section of Plainfield whose father was supporting a progressive Democrat (a Catholic, no less) for president, a fact that summed up his early political consciousness much more than the swelling ledger in the family bank book.
Life in Plainfield during the nonsummer months was a solid, regular existence. All children under nine ate "supper" (hot cereal with prunes or applesauce) at 5:30 and then went to bed. The older children were expected to sit down to dinner as soon as Archibald, Sr., walked in the door from the train station. Boys wore coats and ties; girls wore dresses (or, if they had already worn a dress earlier in the day, a "new dress"). The parents had one cocktail of vermouth and fruit juice, never more, never less. Then the maids served dinner. A typical meal consisted of soup; roast beef, chops, or lamb; two vegetables; and a pudding. After dinner the older children were allowed to read before going to bed, as long as they pulled up the covers and extinguished the lights by 8:00 sharp.
Archie found that he liked the sound of words, the flow and resonance of phrases carefully forged and sharpened by the writer. He liked to speak words almost as much as he liked to read them. But this posed certain hazards.
His first public speaking contest was at the Wardlaw School in Plainfield, a small private grade school that Archie rode to on a bicycle. The poem he had selected was "Farragut," about wooden Union warships going into Mobile Bay during the Civil War. Archie would never forget clenching his fists at the Wardlaw School, planting his feet, and reciting:
Old Heart of Oak,
Daring Dave Farragut
Thunderbolt stroke ...
Then he stopped. "And I couldn't remember another word. I broke down completely as a tearful little boy."
By his teens, however, Archie had become more polished, more confident of his talents. His father was "terribly excited that I wouldn't be admitted to St. Paul's [prep school], because he had read an English composition of mine and found it filled with mistakes of spelling." Archibald, Sr., told his wife, "Well, the boy's a moron." But Archie wasn't worried. He "regarded it, and always regarded it, as an unnecessary flap." Still, it was enough of a flap, old letters reveal, that his father wrote directly to an administrator at St. Paul's School in April 1926. Reporting that young Archie was taking the entrance exams, his father conspicuously threw in some choice information: "I am told that, other things being equal, relationship to Alumni may count something in favor of a boy on the waiting list. If so, my boy can claim, in addition to his father and four uncles, a grandfather and five or six grand-uncles, and a Trustee in the generation before that." A representative of St. Paul's quickly wrote back reassuringly: "You are right in understanding that relationship to Alumni counts in a boy's favor when he is trying for admission to the School. Your boy should score heavily in this regard when the time comes."
Archie was safely admitted to St. Paul's in 1926. By this time, he had shaken much of the self-doubt that had plagued him as a boy. He could easily recite the saga of Admiral Farragut by heart.
Archie entered St. Paul's at age fourteen, receiving a thick dose of New England culture that he enjoyed immensely. St. Paul's was a private Episcopal boys' school outside of Concord, New Hampshire, sixty miles from Windsor, in the middle of a wooded, secluded, bucolic nowhere. There were English Tudor buildings, tennis courts, ponds with footbridges, geese, swans, and absolute solitude.
Archie's great-grandfather Perkins had helped found St. Paul's, and his grandfather had been one of the first students in the 1870s, so the Cox, Evarts, and Perkins names all carried a special ring amid the chiming bells of the Episcopal prep school grounds. So nicely did Archie adapt that his younger brother Rob was planning to follow in his footsteps, a fact that pleased Archie and gave his own enrollment a delightful aura of pathfinding and experimentation.
Archie enjoyed rubbing elbows with a swarm of teenage boys of his own vintage, many of whom were sons of alumni. Along with the other third formers in the fall of 1926, Archie lived in an alcove in the "Old School" building. In this spartan setting, each boy had nothing but a bed and a bureau, some clothes on the floor until a master came along, and a ready comb. "It was perfectly pleasant," recalled Archie's classmate and lifelong friend, Dr. Thomas W. Clark. "Sleeping and getting up in the morning is what you did."
As soon as the morning bells went off at an ungodly hour, the boys raced down, took showers, ate breakfast, went to chapel, and got ready for classes. In the New England winters, it was still dark as they dashed across the dimly lit brick paths for lessons in Greek and trigonometry. Part of the unspoken challenge was to learn to face adversity head-on. "We took cold showers in the basement," Clark remembered. "You were sissy to [do otherwise] ... even in the middle of winter," he explained. "There was plenty of hot water–we just didn't use it."
Boys wore a coat and tie to classes and donned a stiff collar every night for dinner. They attended chapel once a day, twice on Sundays. Immediately after students communed with God, infractions were read out loud at the "Big Study." Violations such as "up after lights," "swimming at night," and "out after check-in" were announced sternly by the rector, Dr. Samuel S. Drury, who was considered God's direct spokesman, and demerits were levied.
For a boy who was used to going to bed at eight o'clock back in Plainfield, the hours at St. Paul's seemed long and difficult. Archie wrote home: "Tell Betty it's no fun sitting up so late, until 9:00." Archie's classmate, William G. Foulke, remembered that hardships nevertheless created a bond: "It was a rigorous life–getting up when the sun was just coming up; it was cold; we were living in very little quarters. Circumstances like these bring people together."
The boys attending St. Paul's were hardly children of the struggling lower classes. The school was a WASPy affair, for the most part. Two Vanderbilts enrolled during Archie's entering year. Parents assumed that they were sending their children to the "best school in the English-speaking world." By and large, they were offspring of the rich and powerful in the great Northeast, who recognized that if their children were going to letter in college sports, make Phi Beta Kappa at Ivy League schools, run banks, head corporations, lead great law firms, become great diplomats, and make names for themselves in government and national politics, they had better learn rigorous habits in the earliest years.
Despite all these high-minded parental goals, a group of 428 boys had a way of softening the structure. Some boys tinkered with radios. Some wrote for the school magazine. Club football, hockey, baseball, and crew were institutions. "Teas" were a regular event at the homes of masters. Canoeing on the lakes and streams on campus was a popular pastime. By December, the ice was thick enough to skate on Mill Pond, "Big Turkey," and "the Everglades." There were other diversions. "We would go swimming in the quarry," recalled Tom Clark, "which was totally illegal. We would have to entice a janitor who had a car to take us there. It was no better than swimming in the lakes that the school owned. But it was illegal, so we did it."
St. Paul's sponsored one dance a year. Boys would invite girls from home, usually Long Island or New Jersey, to dance fox-trots and waltzes. Archie's only recollection of a date was Elizabeth "Zibby" Fiske from Plainfield, who was more comfortable sitting on the porch on Rahway Road with his sisters, but reluctantly made the trip to New Hampshire to see how prep school boys danced.
Archie was viewed as "a bit more intellectually inclined" than many of his classmates. His sandy, almost blond hair was always cut short. At six feet tall, he was skinny, even "gangly." He was known neither for his athletic prowess nor his "sartorial" stylishness. He was nevertheless listed as a backup left tackle on his intramural Isthmian football team. And he was a passable enough baseball player that he pitched an occasional intramural game.
Still, athletics were not what had attracted Archie to St. Paul's. Nor did they keep him there. During fourth form (tenth grade), while Archie's roommate Edgar Rulon-Miller was busy perfecting the art of smoking cigarettes up the chimney to avoid the well-trained noses of the masters, Archie began developing his own interests. A young master named John Mayher frequently invited a group of boys to carry books to his room in New Upper "after lights," so they could read aloud. Here Archie and his roommates began expanding their curiosity and tastes in literature. They read H. H. Munro's work written under the pseudonym Saki, mostly light prose and irreverent political satire. They consumed the offbeat 1920s newspaper column archy and mehitabel featuring an alley cat, Mehitabel, and a cockroach named Archy (much to Archie Cox's delight), who climbed onto a typewriter at night and punched out dialogue in lowercase letters because he was too small to engineer the shift button. Typical of Archy-the-cockroach's astute observations on life was the following rumination, in lower case:
if you get gloomy just
take an hour off and sit
and think how
much better this world
is than hell
of course it wont cheer
you up if
you expect to go there
Archie soon thrived at St. Paul's. He joined the "Greek Gang," a group of students who studied classical Greek and played intramural sports together. He teetered "on the edge of trouble," ducking into the dining hall for formal meals just before the heavy Gothic doors swung closed. He was regularly chastised for sporting a short, almost stubbly hairstyle that Dr. Drury viewed as much too short.
Archie was never one of the top boys in the third or fourth forms, a fact published conspicuously in "half term rankings" in the school magazine. But he won the Keep Prize in English History for an essay that he signed under the nom de plume "William M. Evarts." By the end of fourth form, in 1928, he had joined the Propylean Literary Society, where he was judged best speaker in two separate debates. In one winning argument, Cox supported the affirmative on the issue "Resolved: That the war debt of the Allies to the United States ought to be cancelled by the United States." In the second, he argued the negative on the proposition "Resolved: That the United States should enter the League of Nations."
In the spring of 1928, Frances Cox wrote to Dr. Drury: "It is lovely to have Archie at home again and to see him so well, and so happy. We feel you are doing so much for him at St. Paul's, and that he is learning a great deal besides lessons in books."
By sixth form (senior year), Archie was beginning to achieve a new level of confidence–just as it was time to leave. He was listed as one of the select members of the sixth form who "read the lessons at Sunday Evening" chapel. With his large, strong hands he excelled at racket sports and was appointed to the Squash and Tennis Committees. He argued against Groton School in a major interschool debate, taking the negative on the question of whether the U.S.S.R. should be recognized by the United States, and "swinging the tide" in favor of a St. Paul's victory. By this time, he was given the nickname "Solicitor" by his classmates, an undeniable tribute. "The Six Rankings" listed him, academically, as one of the "leaders of the entire school."
More important than this scholastic achievement, a reputation was starting to follow Archie Cox. "He was an independent," said his friend Charlie Kirkland. "Like all boys' schools, there were lots of cliques. He was on the edge of them. It was a hard role to play. Most kids had a herd instinct. But he didn't need it."
This emerging perception of Archie as someone who "forged his own course" led the rector to appoint Archie and Joseph "Indian Joe" Barker to the Student Council, a distinct honor at St. Paul's. Some skeptical friends saw an unflattering angle to Cox's appointment. It was widely known in the dormitories and locker rooms that there was "a good deal of illegal goings-on" in Twenty House. "Constantly," said Charlie Kirkland, who balked at describing the activity in any further detail. "Certainly he [Archie] and everyone else knew." The illegal activity that everyone knew about, including the administration, was smoking and gambling, a "moving crap game." Much of it involved friends of Archie. As Kirkland and other residents of Twenty House saw Dr. Drury's careful selection of Cox, "Drury put him on the council because he thought he could get information."
Whether or not that was the plan (Archie himself would never attribute this unseemly motive to the administration), his friends remained impressed that Cox could toe the line. He never condoned the improper activity, yet he never blew the whistle. "He somehow managed to walk that tight-rope of not being a part of it and not giving it away," Kirkland said. "He was on the side of authority but he didn't give in to it."
Whenever he was preoccupied or troubled, Archie would walk around the Lower Pond below the red brick chapel, where mosquitoes and black flies swarmed in noisy hordes. On the narrow trail that circled behind the pond, Archie had a favorite path that took him a quarter of a mile around the perimeter. There was a stone marker built along the trail in the shape of a cross. He would pick his way to this end point, stop, read the one-sentence inscription on the marker, then turn around.
It was a familiar verse from the King James Version of the Bible, Ecclesiastes, chapter 12. It somehow made him feel good to read it: "REMEMBER NOW THE CREATOR IN THE DAYS OF THY YOUTH."
Archie captured the Hugh Camp Memorial Cup for public speaking at the end of sixth form, with a free-spirited address delivered in the Big Study entitled "The Age of Revolt." As part of the honor Archie was invited to publish his essay in the June 4, 1930, issue of Horae Scholasticae, the final edition of the school magazine. There, the eighteen-year-old Archie Cox wrote with confident style: "Two characteristics of man have hitherto impeded him: fear and authority. He is afraid to venture far from the established course. He dares not think too clearly about himself and his institutions, for he fears the result."
Graduation was held on June 5, 1930, after a sentimental last night that included a quiet singing of "Salve Mater" under the faintly illuminated trees outside the Old Study. The crowd was so large that Archie's parents could not book a hotel; they stayed at a nearby farmhouse, where Archibald, Sr., coughed all night with a nagging cold. "I should have never made you come," Frances Cox told her husband. But, as Frances later recorded, Archie's father smiled back and replied, "Maybe it was the most important thing in the whole world,"
With his parents watching proudly, Archie delivered a speech entitled "Today" at the final Concordian-Cadmean dinner and received a silver medal in debating. A letter of recommendation had already been written by Dr. Drury and mailed to Harvard: "Archibald Cox is one of our leading boys in the Sixth Form.... He comes of a good Harvard family, many of whom have been connected with Harvard. He is a fine public speaker, having led our recent debating team against Groton. We expect great things of Cox and believe that he will be a true contributor to the life of Harvard. He is a communicant of the Episcopal Church."
St. Paul's was a narrow world, consisting of boys imported almost exclusively from the upper social stratum of New York, Philadelphia, and New England families. Despite the cloistered environment, however, something very positive had happened to Archie in the Tudor buildings, endless ballyards, and pristine woods of the New Hampshire prep school. Something so positive that he would feel compelled to "quietly revisit" St. Paul's throughout his life, particularly when he was faced with a career change or a difficult life-decision.
Archie and his old classmates would be unable, years later, to dissect the precise causes, the exact sources of positive influence, when asked to explain how St. Paul's had profoundly touched their lives. Part of it was undoubtedly the positive example set by St. Paul's alumni, some of whom had become prominent figures of the time: men like John Winant, governor of New Hampshire, and Archibald Alexander, distinguished New York City lawyer and two-time candidate for the U.S. Senate from New Jersey. Part of the positive influence, too, certainly came from the rector, Dr. Drury. As one former student would recount during a debriefing after being shot down in a fighter plane during World War II, "Just about this point, I saw a big golden glow and the pearly gates. And I saw Dr. Drury's face looking over the top."
Another positive factor was surely linked to the long, spiny chapel, with its sparkling panes of glass and gothic tower ringing chimes on the hour, that served as the physical and symbolic center of the campus. Archie and his old classmates agreed that religion–including daily trips to chapel (twice on Sunday), where Archie "passed the plate"–played a critical role in the moral shaping that took place at St. Paul's. This was true, even though, ironically, Archie and many of his cohorts never became "good churchmen." Traditional wisdom at St. Paul's held that although a certain number of teenagers were destined to become heathens and agnostics no matter what training was drilled into their heads, at least at St. Paul's they "lost their faith under the best possible circumstances."
Whatever the precise origin of its impact, St. Paul's would exert a strong influence on Archibald Cox for the rest of his life. He would never find satisfactory words to sum up the importance of his education at that New England prep school. But his mother would do it for him, long after he reached mature years. "Billy," Frances Cox would say after she passed her eightieth birthday, you certainly haven't done very well in your duty toward God but "you have done, I'll have to confess, pretty well in your duty towards your neighbor."
(C) 1997 Ken Gormley All rights reserved. ISBN: 0-201-40713-2
Cox home on Rahway Avenue, Plainfield
From Plainfield, New Jersey History & Architecture by John Grady and Dorothe Pollard
Named for his maternal grandfather, Judge Joseph Galloway Rowland of the Supreme Court of Delaware, Rowland Cox was a Princeton graduate. After settling in Plainfield, Mr. Cox served on the Plainfield Common Council, the Board of Governors for Muhlenberg Hospital, and Board of Trustess of the library. Mr. Cox became an internationally recognized expert in patient copyright and trademark law.
After graduating from Harvard Law School, Archibald Cox, son of Rowland, took over the father's business. In a well-known case, Archibald Cox established the right of Johnson & Johnson to use the Red Cross symbol as its trademark. Courtesy of the Cox family.
Archibald Cox's eldest son, Archibald II, follwing ina tradition of excellence, went on to graduate magna cum laude from Hawrvard Law School and became Solicitor General of the United States, a Harvard faculty member, an expert in labor law, and the author of several books. Today (2008) he is best remembered as the special prosecutor fired by President Richard Nixon in what became known as the Saturday Night Massacre. Courtesy of the Cox family.
The Archibald Cox senior family lived in this rambling Dutch colonial-style home on Rahway Road. Designed by the architectural firm of White and White, the home provided spacious accomodations for the Cox family of seven children.
Some of the others that do business in New York and have handsome homes here are . . .; Rowland Cox, the lawyer;
1010 Rahway Road
Plainfield Public Library
Title New Kitchen Layout for Mr. & Mrs. E. Wayne Haley 1010 Rahway Road Pflfd
Description Plans and interior elevations and detail of remodeled kitchen, and elevation for a porch barbeque structure
Building Type Residence
Work Type Alteration and/or Addition
Blueprint ID D-11780
Year of Permit 1957
Microfilm Roll 0235
Microfilm Frame 0561
Address 1010 Rahway Road
Architect Charles H. Detwiller, Jr.
Owner E. Wayne Haley
Related to the Ginnas? The Perkins?
William Maxwell Evarts ("Max") Perkins (September 20, 1884 – June 17, 1947), was the editor for Ernest Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Thomas Wolfe. He has been described as the most famous literary editor
Perkins was born on September 20, 1884, in New York City, grew up in Plainfield, New Jersey, attended St. Paul's School in Concord, New Hampshire and then graduated from Harvard College in 1907. Although an economics major in college, Perkins also studied under Charles Townsend Copeland, a famous teacher of literature who helped prepare Perkins for his career.
After working as a reporter for The New York Times, Perkins joined the venerable publishing house of Charles Scribner's Sons in 1910. That same year he married Louise Saunders, also of Plainfield, who would bear him five daughters. At the time he joined it, Scribner's was known for publishing eminently respectable authors such as John Galsworthy, Henry James, and Edith Wharton. However, much as he admired these older giants, Perkins wished to publish younger writers. Unlike most editors, he actively sought out promising new artists and made his first big find in 1919 when he signed F. Scott Fitzgerald. This was no easy task, for no one at Scribner's except Perkins had liked The Romantic Egotist, the working title of Fitzgerald's first novel, and it was rejected. Even so, Perkins worked with Fitzgerald to drastically revise the manuscript and then lobbied it through the house until he wore down his colleagues' resistance.
Its publication as This Side of Paradise (1920) marked the arrival of a new literary generation that would always be associated with Perkins. Fitzgerald's profligacy and alcoholism put great strain on his relationship with Perkins. Nonetheless, Perkins remained his friend as well as his editor to the end of Fitzgerald's short life, advancing him money, making personal loans, and encouraging the unstable writer in every way. Perkins rendered yeoman service as an editor too, particularly in helping Fitzgerald with The Great Gatsby (1925), his masterpiece, which benefited substantially from Perkins' criticism.
It was through Fitzgerald that Perkins met Ernest Hemingway, publishing his first major novel, The Sun Also Rises, in 1926. A daring book for the times, Perkins fought for it over objections to Hemingway's profanity raised by traditionalists in the firm. The commercial success of Hemingway's next novel, A Farewell to Arms (1929), which rose to number one on the best-seller list, put an end to questions about Perkins' editorial judgment.
The greatest professional challenge Perkins ever faced was posed by Thomas Wolfe, whose talent was matched only by his lack of artistic self-discipline. Unlike most writers, who are often blocked, words poured out of Wolfe. A blessing in some ways, this was a curse too, as Wolfe was greatly attached to each sentence he wrote. After a tremendous struggle, Perkins induced Wolfe to cut 90,000 words from his first novel, Look Homeward, Angel (1929). His next, Of Time and the River (1935), was the result of a two-year battle during which Wolfe kept writing more and more pages in the face of an ultimately victorious effort by Perkins to hold the line on size. Grateful to Perkins at first for discovering him and helping him realize his potential, Wolfe later came to resent the popular perception that he owed his success to his editor. Wolfe left Scribner's after numerous fights with Perkins. Despite this, Perkins served as Wolfe's literary executor after his early death in 1938 and was considered by Wolfe to be his closest friend.
Although his reputation as an editor is most closely linked to these three, Perkins worked with many other writers. He was the first to publish J. P. Marquand and Erskine Caldwell. His advice was responsible for the enormous success of Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, whose The Yearling (1938) grew out of suggestions made by Perkins. It became a runaway best-seller and won the Pulitzer Prize. Alan Paton's Cry, the Beloved Country (1946) was another highly successful Perkins find. His last discovery was James Jones, who approached Perkins in 1945. Perkins persuaded Jones to abandon the novel he was working on at that time and launched him on what would become From Here to Eternity (1951). By this time, Perkins' health was failing and he did not live to see its success, nor that of Hemingway's The Old Man and the Sea (1952), which was dedicated to his memory. Perkins died on June 17, 1947 in Stamford, Connecticut.
Perkins was noted for his courtesy and thoughtfulness. He also recognized skilled writing wherever he found it and nursed along writers as few editors did. That Ring Lardner has a reputation today, for example, is because Perkins saw him as more than a syndicated humorist. Perkins believed in Lardner more than the writer did in himself, and despite the failure of several earlier collections he coaxed Lardner into letting him assemble another under the title How To Write Short Stories (1924). The book sold well and, thanks to excellent reviews, established Lardner as a literary figure.
Apart from his roles as coach, friend, and promoter, Perkins was unusual among editors for the close and detailed attention he gave to books, and for what the novelist Vance Bourjaily, another of his discoveries, called his "infallible sense of structure." Although he never pretended to be an artist himself, Perkins could often see where an author ought to go more clearly than the writer did.
Maxwell Perkins was the grandson of U.S. Secretary of State, U.S. Attorney General & U.S. Senator William M. Evarts, the great-great-grandson of Declaration of Independence signer Roger Sherman, and the uncle of Watergate special prosecutor Archibald Cox. He was also descended from the Puritans John Davenport and Theophilus Eaton.
Perkins' home in Windsor, Vermont, located on 26 Main Street, was purchased from John Skinner in the 1820s for $5,000 by William M. Evarts and passed down to Evarts' daughter, Elizabeth Hoar Evarts Perkins, who in turn left the home to family members, including her son Maxwell. The home stayed in the family until 2005, and was recently restored and reopened as Snapdragon Inn. Snapdragon Inn is open to the public and features the Maxwell Perkins Library, which displays and collects items related to Maxwell Perkins and his extended family. His house in New Canaan, Connecticut, the Maxwell E. Perkins House, is on the National Register of Historic Places. His granddaughter, Ruth King Porter, is a Vermont writer.
On New Year's Eve, in the Episcopal Church in Plainfield, NJ, Maxwell Perkins, 26, marries Louise Saunders, 17. It is quite a family affair. His brothers and her sisters are part of the wedding party, and his uncle performs the service.
The young couple had both attended this church while growing up, but had only taken a serious interest in each other about 18 months ago. As a young reporter with the New York Times, Max knew he couldn't support a wife and family. But his new job gave him regular working hours and a steady salary. He had recently joined the venerable publishing house of Charles Scribner's and Sons. In the advertising department.
Elsewhere in the US, Scribner's future star writers, F. Scott Fitzgerald, 14, Ernest Hemingway, 11, and Thomas Wolfe, 10, are dreaming of becoming novelists.
As Ever Yours
Maxwell E. Perkins, famed editor of such literary luminaries as F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, Zora Neale Hurston, Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, and Thomas Wolfe, was a man whose personal and professional lives often intersected. Nowhere is this more evident than in his correspondence with Elizabeth Lemmon, the Virginia socialite who became his long-distance confidante. Despite the platonic nature of their relationship, others realized the intensity of their connection. The letters contained in As Ever Yours, published here for the first time, reveal an epistolary love story–and they provide fresh insights into Perkins the man and Perkins the editor. Max first met Elizabeth in 1922 at the Perkins home in Plainfield, New Jersey. Immediately drawn to her stark beauty and southern charm, he struck up a correspondence with her that lasted until his death in 1947. As Ever Yours contains 121 of Perkins's letters to Lemmon as well as the 20 extant letters from Lemmon to Perkins; the rest are presumed lost or destroyed. Letters from Fitzgerald and Wolfe also shed light on the pair's dynamic relationship. The letters make for compelling reading as Perkins details his personal life in New Jersey and Connecticut and his professional life in the New York publishing world. The writers he discovered, edited, and encouraged at Charles Scribner's Sons emerge as endearing and believable characters, brought to life in Perkins's vivid narrative voice. He is witty, self-deprecating, and painterly in his descriptions of people and locales together with the social milieu of his day. Protected by distance, Max used his letter-writing relationship to unburden himself in a way he could not with hiscoworkers, his authors, or even his wife–and these letters simultaneously highlight his editorial judgment and disclose his private feelings. Expertly edited by Rodger L. Tarr, As Ever Yours will be important to students and scholars of the history of publishing. The Perkins-Lemmon letters illuminate the thoughts and experiences of the greatest literary editor of the twentieth century. Rodger L. Tarr is University Distinguished Professor Emeritus at Illinois State University. He is the editor of a number of books on Thomas Carlyle and Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, most recently Max and Marjorie: The Correspondence of Maxwell E. Perkins and Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings (1999) and Thomas Carlyle: Sartor Resartus (2000).
See Plainfield GC Member file: Morison, Mrs. Nathaniel H. (Fanny C. Lemmon) '16
August 20, 2012 Neltje Doubldeay
Email from Mary Kent to Susan Fraser:
I am forwarding you a question from Marian Hill about Neltje Doubleday. I do not recall the name. I was sure if anyone knew it would be you.
Email from Marian Hill (GCA President) to Mary Kent:
From: "firstname.lastname@example.org" <email@example.com>
Subject: Re: Neltje Doubleday
Date: August 18, 2012 8:50:04 PM EDT
To: Mary Kent <firstname.lastname@example.org>
I have a quick question: Was Neltje Blanchan Doubleday a member of your garden club. Thank you for verifying this for me. She is one of my favorite authors.
Hope you are enjoying these last wonderful summer days,
Susan Fraser's Response to Mary Kent:
I do indeed know that name and really wish we had more time to get over to the Plainfield Library and crack open our vault of records. Sadly as of today's date, I don't believe Neltje was a member. However, I am fairly certain she was the niece of founding member:
Mrs. James Wilde (Carrie T. Milliken) deGraff '15
I also think she was related to MANY of our Plainfield Garden Club members. Her son's wife, the famous Robert deGraff, sent in a memorial fund for Polly Heely in 1988. She was a local Plainfield girl and must have known Polly – perhaps grew up with her?
Neltje was part of the elite of Plainfield (and Plainfield Garden Club) both through her family and her husband, Frank Doubleday. Frank worked at first for Scribner publishing and his relative, Maxwell Perkins (related to MANY Plainfield GC ladies) was the very, very famous editor at Scribner's – he helped publish Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Wolfe and many more famous authors. (No coincidence that Scribners was the publishing company for Neltje.)
You can read about Maxwell here at this direct link:
Mrs. Seymour, Jr. (Esther Moody Barlow) Perkins '49
Neltje's daughter married a Babcock, a very prominent Plainfield family, and that puts her in the same family of Tabby Cochran, Somerset Hills GC through Tabby's husband.
Other Plainfield GC members that Neltje was related to are listed below. Most notably Archibald Cox – whose mother was a Plainfield Garden Club member. Jennifer Gregory who lives in the Cox home has promised me that one day we can come for a tour! Susan
Huntington, Miss Florence '15
Huntington, Mrs. Howard (Agnes Fales Strong) '19
Cox, Mrs. Archibald (Frances Perkins) '25
Nash, Mrs. Philip Wallace (Helen Babcock) '57
Nelson, Mrs. Arthur G. '32, President 1936 -1937, 1940 - 1942
Cochran, Mrs. Homer P. (Elisabeth Nash) '52 (Tabby's mother-in-law)
Harlow, Mrs. Edward Dexter (Elsie Cochran Martin) '15
Stewart, Mrs. Percy Hamilton (Elinor DeWitt Cochran) '15
Mrs. de Graff's son, Robert Fair de Graff, was the famous creator of paperback books! It was his wife that sent the memorial for Mrs. Heely in 1988.
1901 Directory of the National Society of the Daughters of the American Revolution
1. Continental Chapter - Plainfield
Organized January 23, 1896; Members, 36 (New York, 2; Kentucky, 1)
Regent, Mrs. C. W. McCutchen
1st Vice-Regt., Mrs. Rowland Cox
2nd Vice-Regt., Miss Eliza E. Kenyon
Secretary, Mrs. J. Kirtland Myers
Treasurer, Mrs. J. G. Foster
Registrar, Mrs. D. H. Rowland
Cox was the son of Archibald and Frances Perkins Cox. His mother was the sister of Maxwell Perkins, an editor at the publishing house of Charles Scribner's Sons. A native of Plainfield, New Jersey, Cox attended the Wardlaw School, and St. Paul's School
July 5, 1896 New York Times
PLAINFIELD SOCIAL NEWS
Mrs. Rowland Cox Gives a Tea in Honor of Her Daughter
PLAINFIELD, N.J., July 4. – Mrs. Rowland Cox of West Seventh Street gave a tea Tuesday afternoon from 4 to 7 to the friends of her daughter, Miss Fanny Dox. She was assisted in receiving by Miss Lucy Talmadge and Miss Edith Hyde.
Princeton Alumni Weekly 1900
Rowland Cox '63
Rowland Cox died at his home in Plainfield, NJ on May 13, after an illness of less than a week. He was taken with a severe attack of appendicitis on the previous Wednesday and an operation proved unsuccessful.
Mr. Cox was born in Philadelphia on July 9, 1842. He temporarily abandoned his college work when the war broke out and enlisted in the Thirteenth or Anderson Cavalry. Later he was appointed on the staff of General McPherson with the rank of Captain. Mr. Cox, however, was permitted to take his degree with the class of '63.
He was admitted to the New York bar after the war and made a specialty of trade mark cases, in which practice he attained a wide reputation. Mr. Cox was a governor of the Muhlenberg Hospital and a member of the Loyal Legion and the Baltusrol Golf Club. He was a member of Grace Episcopal Church and was a large contributor, not only to the church, but to many charitable enterprises. His wife was Miss Fanny C. Hill of Smyrna, Del. They had four children. In the United State Circuit Court on the day following the death of Mr. Cox appropriate resolution were placed on the minutes.
Rowland Johns Cox
Archive Name: Alumni Horae
Volume 57, Issue 3, Page 140, Obituaries 3
Originally published: Autumn 1977
Obituary: Rowland Johns Cox,
1946-Rowland Johns Cox, headmaster of Groton School since 1974, died of cancer in Groton, Massachusetts, August 19, 1977. The youngest of five brothers who attended St. Paul's, he was born in Plainfield, New Jersey, July 17, 1928, the son of Archibald Cox, '92, and the former Frances Bruen Perkins, daughter of Charles B. Perkins, '78. His School career was marked by high achievement as a scholar and athlete, and as a leader and Secretary of his Form. He took part in Dramatic Club activities, was a member of the Missionary Society, and was an acolyte and crucifer. He became the best debater and speaker in the School: as a Cadmean speaker, he won the 1887 Fifth Form Speaking Prize in the joint debate of 1946, and twice was winner of the Hugh Camp Cup. He was a head editor of the Horae, an Honor Scholar, and winner of the Goodwin Classics Prize in 1945 and of the Robinson Scholarship and the Keep Prize in American History in 1946. For two years he played on the Isthmian and SPS football teams; he rowed on the Shattuck Crew in 1945 and 1946, and he was a member of the Isthmian hockey team in 1946. Graduating cum laude, he had the high additional distinction of being the first recipient of the Toland Prize. After graduation from Harvard in 1950, and from General Theological Seminary in 1953, he was ordained and spent five missionary years north of the Arctic Circle as priest-in-charge of St. Thomas's Church in Point Hope, Alaska. Returning to New York in 1958, he served as a staff officer of the overseas department of the National Episcopal Church for three years. In 1961, he became Episcopal chaplain at Princeton University, and in 1968 he assumed the posts of chaplain and chairman of the department of pastoral studies at General Theological Seminary. He was appointed headmaster of Groton in 1974. Under his guidance, in accord with plans already made, the first girls were admitted to the school and the enrollment was increased from 200 to 300. He was a man of great talent and possessed of deep sympathies, warmth, and humor, a hard and conscientious worker from the days of his teen-age summer jobs on the staff of the Claremont (N. H.) Daily Eagle to his final years at Groton, where he continued to work until the day before his death. He is survived by his mother; his wife, the former Mary Jordan; a daughter, Miranda, who is a Sixth Former at St. Paul's; two sisters, Mrs. Elizabeth C. Bigelow and Mary D. Cox, and three brothers, Archibald Cox, Jr., '30, Maxwell E. Cox, '41, and Louis A. Cox, '43. A fourth brother, Robert H. Cox, 2d, '37, died of wounds received in action in Tunisia, in 1943.
January 1, 1891 New York Times
New York Times Newspaper - Jan 1, 1891 (pg 4)
A COUNTRY CLUB'S NEW HOME –
- Plainfield, N.J., Dec 31st – The handsome new home of the Union County Country Club was thrown open to the members and their friends tonight. Dedicatory exercises were begun in the casino, the theatrical wing of the clubhouse, at 9:30 o'clock, when Rowland COX, representing the Building Committee, delivered to the keeping of Harry M. STOCKTON of the House Committee the keys of the structure, which were linked together with gold. Alexander GILBERT, Mayor-elect of Plainfield, responded for the club to Mr. COX's speech, and, after other formalities, Mr. STOCKTON announced that the clubhouse was open to the guests.
- The assemblage then passed into the main club building, where the visitors were received by the officers of the club and the members of the House Committee, who were ranged before a huge open fireplace. A New Year's Eve ball and banquet followed, and the society people of the city and country were escorted through every part of the handsome, commodious editice.
- The plan of the clubhouse is thorough and artistic in every department. It contains, besides the casino, which is one of the prettiest and most satisfactory playhouses imaginable, billiard rooms, bowling alleys, tennis courts, dining parlors, libraries, and other auxiliaries of genuine club life, all furnished in the most elaborate and luxurious style. The President of the club is Harry G. RUNKLE, the Vice President is William BLOODGOOD, the secretary William T. KAUFMAN, and the Treasurer Pliny FISK. The club membership is limited to 100. Most of the members are New York business men.
Mulhlenberg Hospital Listing: 310 West Seventh Street
1920 Muhlenberg Hospital Womens Auxiliary
Mrs. Archibald Cox
1415 Watchung Avenue
1920 Social Register
Cox, Mrs. and Mrs. Archibald (Frances B. Perkins) H.'96
Ph. No. 973 . . 1415 Watchung Avenue, Plainfield, N.J.
Cox, Mr. and Mrs. Edw Vermilye (Julia Bulkley) Y '94 Cl. '95
Ph. No. 1895 . . . 150 East 7, Plainfield, N. J.
Cos, Mrs. (Rowland) (Fanny Cummins Hill) Dar. Cd.
Ph. No. 53 . . . .310 West 7th, Plainfield, N. J.
Cox. Mr. Robert H. * H. '05
Juniors: Cox, Mr. Rowland
Cox, Mr. and Mrs. W. Rowland (Gertrude Potter) Bg
Short Hills, N. J.
1909 Plainfield Directory
Perkins Benjamin*, laborer h 218 W 3d
Perkins John*, cook, h 411 W 4th
Perkins Seymore clerk, h 223 E 6th
1909 Plainfield Directory
COX ARCHIBALD, lawyer, h 310 W 7th
Cox Charles D, driver, h 188 Grove, N. P.
Cox Chester W, machinist, h. 727 W 3d
Cox, Edward E, civil engineer, h. 967 Madison av
Cox, John*, ashman, h 318 Berckman
Cox Robert H., 310 W 7th
COX ROWLAND MRS. h 310 W 7th
April 8, 1925 Meeting Minutes
Louise "Peggy" Perkins King Dies
June 22, 2013 Dan Damon Blog: Maxwell Perkins Last Child Dies. Who?
Word came recently that Louise 'Peggy' Perkins King, born and raised in Plainfield, passed away at the age of 97.
Who, you say?
Peggy was the last surviving child of famed book editor Maxwell Perkins and his wife Louise Saunders Perkins.
The name of Maxwell Perkins may not ring a bell with you, but it is him we have to thank for being able to pick up and read the books of F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, and Thomas Wolfe.
He also encouraged Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings develop what became her most successful book, The Yearling. He brought Alan Paton's Cry, the Beloved Country to press, and persuaded James Jones to abandon the novel he was working on to develop what became From Here to Eternity.
Maxwell Perkins' sister Frances married Archibald Cox, and they lived at 1010 Rahway Road. Their son Archibald, Jr., later became famous as the independent counsel in the Watergate investigation that brought down President Richard Nixon.
The Perkins' and the Coxes had other connections to the Plainfield community, many of which Susan Frasier of the Plainfield Garden Club has tracked down.
You can see some results of her research on the Garden Club's website –
Cox, Mrs. Archibald (Frances Perkins) '25
Day, Mrs. Thomas Mills (Anne Perkins Smith) '16
Perkins, Mrs. Seymour, Jr. (Esther Moody Barlow) '49
Cox, Mrs. Edward Vermilye (Julia Bulkley) '35
Cox, Mrs. Fred J. (Elizabeth Rand Adams) '35
Barlow, Mrs. Carlton Montague (June Simms) '71
Barlow, Mrs. DeWitt Dukes (Mary Lee Brewer), Jr. '65
Dunbar, Mrs. William K., Jr. (Elizabeth or "Libby" Hai…
Moody, Mrs. George T. '22
Some of their Plainfield Homes & Gardens:
310 West 7th Street
502 West 7th Street
511 West 7th Street
648 West 8th Street
740 Carlton Avenue
1143 Evergreen Avenue
1130 Gresham Road
816 Madison Avenue
1010 Rahway Road
1737 Sleepy Hollow Lane
1415 Watchung Avenue
930 Woodland Avenue
I was taken by learning that Peggy King, who lived for many years in Alliance, Ohio, where her husband practiced, was active in the civil rights and anti-war movements of the 60s and 70s.
It truly is a small world.
Louise E. "Peggy" (Perkins) King
Louise E. "Peggy" (Perkins) King
on June 13, 2013
Louise E. "Peggy" (Perkins) King, 97, of Marion died June 8, 2013 at her home on Converse Road.
She was the wife of the late Dr. Robert G. King and mother of five children.
She was born in Plainfield, New Jersey, on October 15, 1915, daughter of the late Maxwell and Louise (Saunders) Perkins, and grew up in Plainfield, New York City and New Canaan, Conn. until her marriage in 1939. Mrs. King was the last surviving child of the famous book editor.
Dr. and Mrs. King lived in Alliance, Ohio until he retired and they moved to Marion in the late 1970s.
Mrs. King is survived by five children: Ruth Porter and her husband Bill of Adamant, Vt., Jenny Philips and her husband Frank of Concord, Mass. Maxwell King and his wife Peggy of Nantucket and Morrisville, Vt., Perry King and his companion Suzy Frenchman of Los Angeles, and Polly King and her husband John Paul of Nyack, N. Y. She also is survived by 11 grandchildren and 9 great-grandchildren.
Mrs. King had a lifelong interest in politics and was active throughout the 1970s in civil rights campaigns and anti-Vietnam protests.
There will be a gathering at her house, 266 Converse Road, in Marion where anyone who cared about her can come to talk and remember who she was. We will let people know the date as soon as we can. A private service for the family will be held later in the summer in Vermont. In lieu of flowers, contributions could be made to the SPCA, or the Humane Society, or to Hospice Services in Wareham.
- See more at: http://www.wanderer.com/obituaries/louise-e-peggy-perkins-king/#sthash.YYfbsuT2.dpuf
New York Times October 9, 1901
WEDDINGS OF A DAY
Waring - Fisk
Special to The New York Times
PLAINFIELD, N. J., Oct. 8. – The marriage of Miss Louise Green Fisk and Lewis Edmund Waring was celebrated yesterday. The wedding was the most brilliant society event that has taken place in this city this Fall. Invitations had been issued to more than 2,500 persons in this city, New York, Philadelphia, Boston, Newport, Washington, and other various cities in this and adjacent States. Mrs. Waring is the eldest daughter of ex-Mayor and Mrs. Charles J. Fisk. Mr. Waring is a son of Mr. and Mrs. O. T. Waring. He is a member of the Hillside Golf Club of this city and also of the Baltusrol Golf Club.
The ceremony was performed at 8:30 o'clock in the Crescent Avenue Presbyterian Church by the pastor, the Rev. Dr. William R. Richards. A feature of the ceremony was the presence of a number of choir boys from Grace Protestant Episcopal Church, New York, who preceded the bridal party.
The ushers were Henry Lower, Laurens H. Van Buren, Richard S. Waring, Edward J. Waring, brothers of the bridegroom; Augustus R. Fisk of this city, Raymond Lefferts and Edward Sawyer of New York, Rutherford M. Shepard and J. Cheney Wells of Philadelphia. The flower girls were Miss Annie G. Fisk, sister of the bride, and Miss Eleanor Waring, sister of the bridegroom. The bridesmaids were Miss Margaretta Wood of Pittsburg, Penn.: Miss Esther Waterman of Southport, Conn.; Miss Helen Bushnell, Miss Helen Talmadge, Miss Florence Waring, a sister of the bridegroom; Miss Edith C. Fisk, a cousin of the bride, of this city, and Miss Evelyn Louise Fisk of Willburtha, N. J., aunt of the bride. Miss Fannie Cox of this city was maid of honor. The best man was Orville T. Waring, eldest brother of the bridegroom.
The bride wore a gown of chiffon with rose point lace and tulle veil. She carried a shower bouquet of white roses, orchids, and lilies of the valley.
After the ceremony an elaborate reception was held at the home of the bride's parents on West Seventh Street. Among the large number of presents received by the bride none attracted more attention than did the gift of Mrs. Richie, the bride's grandmother. It was linen worth $1,000, packed in an old German dower chest.
1995 Common Cause 25th Anniversary Honors
Given to PGC Member Barbara Tracy Sandford '50.
Note Archibald Cox is Chairman Emeritus