With the Procession

In Short

Set against the backdrop of a booming, late-19th-century Chicago, this novel follows the Marshall family as they attempt to reconcile their modest, established virtues with the cold, fast-paced demands of a burgeoning metropolis. When the aging patriarch, David Marshall, falters under the pressure of business rivalry and changing social expectations, his family is forced to navigate the treacherous currents of local "society." It remains a sharp, melancholic study of how cities consume the people who built them, rendering the old world obsolete in the name of progress.

The Story

The story centers on David Marshall, an honest but fading grocer whose long career has been defined by quiet industry. His family—the formidable, tradition-bound wife Eliza, the socially ambitious daughter Jane, the flighty debutante Rosamund, and the detached, cynical son Truesdale—live in a home that feels increasingly alien to the bustling, smoke-filled Chicago outside their door.

The family’s stability is disrupted by the encroaching pressure of newer, more ruthless competitors like the Beldens, and the persistent, quiet decay of David’s business. Jane, realizing that her family is being left behind, seeks the guidance of Mrs. Bates, a shrewd and wealthy socialite who acts as an unlikely mentor. Under her tutelage, Jane learns the performative art of urban social climbing, effectively transforming herself from a "rail" into a woman of consequence. Meanwhile, the family’s domestic life is further complicated by the construction of a new, ostentatious house and the return of Truesdale, who drifts through their lives with a disdainful, aesthetic detachment that mocks his father’s work ethic.

The narrative arc is one of steady exhaustion. David Marshall struggles to keep his business afloat as his health fails and his younger children treat his resources as a bottomless well for their own whims. He feels trapped by the very city he helped build, unable to keep pace with the cold, modern machinations of the marketplace. As he sinks into illness and ultimate defeat, the family dynamic shifts from one of shared purpose to one of individual survival.

The ending provides no grand restoration. David dies, his business is liquidated, and his family scatters. Truesdale, indifferent to the loss of his father’s legacy, prepares to depart for Japan, treating his father’s death as an opportunity for personal freedom. Rosamund, having been groomed by her social education, looks toward the structured class systems of England. Jane, the only one who retains a sense of duty, chooses to honor her father’s memory by donating his inheritance to build the collegiate facility he had intended, even as she remains tethered to her own personal hopes for a future with the reliable, if unromantic, Theodore Brower. The final atmosphere is one of profound transition; the old Chicago is buried along with David, leaving the survivors to negotiate their places in a world that has already moved on without them.

How It Unfolds

The breaking down of the machine The story opens with the sudden physical and professional decline of David Marshall, whose family reacts to his illness with frustration rather than care. They have long viewed him as a mere provider, a clockwork source of income whose existence was tied entirely to his utility.

The social awakening Jane Marshall, recognizing her family's social stagnation, seeks to "wake up" by aligning herself with the influential Mrs. Bates. She undergoes a rigorous, often humiliating, transformation to become a player in the city's elite, learning that status requires both performance and the shedding of old-fashioned habits.

The struggle for relevance As the family builds a new, modern house, the domestic environment becomes a battlefield of competing tastes and social pressures. David is squeezed by business rivals like Belden, while his children, particularly Truesdale and Rosamund, treat his financial struggles with a detached and selfish lack of sympathy.

The final dispersal Following David’s death, the family’s unity dissolves entirely as the children claim their inheritances to fund their own distinct escapes. The business is shuttered, the old home is abandoned, and each member of the family embraces a future that has no room for the man who provided it.

The People

David Marshall is the weary, honest grocer who serves as the foundation for his family’s prosperity. He is trapped between his past as a pioneer and a present that views his integrity as a liability. He ends his life broken, lamenting that he has been "crowded down" by a city that no longer values his slow, steady work.

Jane Marshall is the most complex of the children. Driven by an acute sense of her family’s invisibility, she evolves from a self-deprecating woman into a confident, if somewhat performative, socialite. She ultimately retains the only moral center in the family, sacrificing her inheritance to fulfill her father’s wishes.

Truesdale Marshall represents the nihilism of the new generation. Educated and traveled, he views his family’s struggles with a mixture of boredom and condescension. He views the town as a "hodge-podge" and uses his father’s death primarily as a means to fund his own selfish wanderlust.

Mrs. Bates acts as the architect of Jane’s transformation. She is a woman of immense, practical energy who understands the machinery of city life better than anyone else. She is not cruel, but she is entirely pragmatic, treating social life as a game that the Marshalls must learn to play if they wish to survive.

In Its Own Voice

Regarding the perception of the patriarch:

They had enjoyed a certain intimacy with him, in lengths varying with their respective ages, but they had never made a full avowal that his being rested on any tangible physical basis.

On the aggressive, fast-paced nature of the city’s elite:

"Don't let's start in life like beggars going to the back door for cold victuals; let's march right up the front steps and ring the bell like somebody."

On the inevitable, quiet conclusion of a life’s work:

The city grows from an Indian village to a metropolis of two millions within the lifetime of a single individual.

What It's Really About

The book is a sustained meditation on the cost of urbanization and the erosion of the individual within a capitalistic machine. It explores the tension between the "old" virtues—thrift, hard work, and domestic modesty—and the "new" requirements of social visibility and aggressive commerce. There is a central, haunting question about whether a city built on such rapid, violent growth can ever produce a culture that values the history or the humanity of its founders. It argues that progress is a ruthless process that inevitably cannibalizes the very people who fostered it, leaving behind a "human hodge-podge" that knows little of its own origins.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate the dense, character-driven realism of Edith Wharton or William Dean Howells will find much to admire here. This is a novel of manners that feels, at times, like a ghost story; the tragedy is not in a single event, but in the slow, agonizing evaporation of a man’s identity. The prose is precise and often bitingly observant, particularly regarding the absurdity of social pretension.

It is not a "light" read; the book captures the claustrophobia of a family living in the shadow of their own decline. The period attitudes—the rigid class distinctions and the focus on social currency—may feel distant, yet the underlying anxiety about being "left behind" by a rapidly changing world remains painfully relevant. Readers should be prepared for the lingering melancholy of the ending; there is no triumphant resolution, only the cold, clear view of a world that has moved on. If you enjoy literature that prizes atmospheric detail and the quiet, crushing weight of social expectation, you will find this a deeply rewarding, if somber, experience. It is a brilliant, unsentimental look at the price of "getting ahead."