Mr. Harding had learned from the older McCormick that it had not run smoothly, but that it had cut the grain without tangling it and had left it on a platform from which the raker could take it off in good order for the bundling. To the McCormicks, however, it had been a proof that the machine could be made a success, and a few days later, after making some changes, Cyrus McCormick had cut the six acres of oats at Steele's Tavern in one afternoon. It was then too late in the season for other demonstrations, and the Hardings had heard nothing more about the invention until the day before the trial at Lexington in Farmer Ruff's field.
An hour before the time set for the trial of the reaper Ezra Harding and his brothers were at the appointed place. They watched the crowd gather. There were Negroes, and farm laborers, and some owners of farms. Most of the people around Ezra, to his surprise, not only seemed to expect the machine to fail, but actually hoped it would. He could not understand why until he heard two rough, ignorant fellows talk about losing their chance to earn their bread if machines could be made to do the work of men.
The First Type of McCormick Reaper
"We'll smash the things," they said, "before we'll have the bread taken out of our mouths by any such contraptions."
Ezra thought it strange they should oppose the invention for he knew how anxious his father was that it should be a success. His father said machinery meant the possibility of larger crops, and therefore not less work, but more work and more wealth for all. Ezra was puzzling over the strange stupidity of these men who could not see what larger crops would mean, and who seemed to want to go on in their old back-breaking toil, at the same pitifully small wages,—for the pay of these days was actually less than a nickel an hour,—when the machine came in view drawn by two horses. Two Negroes were leading the horses because the machine made such a clattering noise that it frightened them. About a hundred spectators had gathered by that time. The crowd jeered at the sight of the strange machine.
"It's drunk," they said, and laughed uproariously at their own wit.
On it came, turned into the field, and began in a short time to cut the wheat. It did not work well. The field was rough and hilly, and the heavy, cumbersome machine careened like a ship in a gale. The crowd ran up and down the field alongside the machine, hooting at the top of their voices and calling the reaper all kinds of names. The Negroes were doubled up with laughter at the slewing of the unwieldy machine. One man said to another with decision, "Give me the old cradle yet."
Another said scornfully, "It's a humbug!"