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MY BROTHER 
 THEODORE ROOSEVELT 
 

 
 
 
 
 ■1 
 
 . 
 
 M^' ^ 
 
 
 ^^ 
 
 f 
 
 
 i ^iSil^-'lS^I 
 
 
 
 I 
 
 ^rom a plwlograph. copyrieht by C. Le Gendre. 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt with his little granddaughter, 
 Edith Roosevelt Derby, 1918. 
 
 
MY BROTHER 
 THEODORE ROOSEVELT 
 
 BY 
 CORINNE ROOSEVELT ROBINSON 
 
 WITH ILLUSTBATION8 
 
 NEW YORK 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
 1921 
 
 Y^ Q H H f: I- U 
 
 U- UMIVI- i^lil't Y 
 
 l^-M:;fUf;Y 
 
q^o5S5o 
 
 COPTRIOHT, 1921, BT 
 
 CHABU:S SCRIBNER-S SONS 
 
 Published September, 1921 
 
 THE acmsNEn nam 
 
WITH TENDER AFFECTION I DEDICATE THIS BOOK 
 TO MT SISTER 
 
 ANNA ROOSEVELT COWLES 
 
 WHOSE T7NSELFISH DEVOTION TO HER BROTHER 
 
 THEODORE ROOSEVELT 
 
 NEVER WAVERED THROUGH HIS WHOLE LIFE, AND FOR WHOM 
 
 HE HAD FROM CHILDHOOD 
 
 A DEEP AND UNSWEBVINQ LOVE AND ADMIRATION 
 
PREFACE 
 
 This Preface I write to my fellow countrymen as I give into 
 their hands these intimate reminiscences of my brother, Theo- 
 dore Roosevelt. 
 
 A year and a half ago I was invited by the City History Club 
 of New York to make an address about my brother on Washing- 
 ton's Birthday. Upon being asked what I would call my speech, 
 I replied that as George Washington was the "Father of his 
 coimtry," as Abraham Lincoln was the "Saviour of his country," 
 so Theodore Roosevelt was the "Brother of his country," and 
 that, therefore, the subject of my speech would be "The Brother 
 of His Coimtry." 
 
 In the same way, I feel that in giving to the public these 
 almost confidential personal recollections, I do so because of 
 the attitude of that very public toward Theodore Roosevelt. 
 There is no sacrilege in sharing such memories with the people 
 who have loved him, and whom he loved so well. 
 
 This book is not a biography, it is not a political history of 
 the times, although I have been most careful in the effort to 
 record facts accurately, and carefully to search my memory 
 before relating conversations or experiences; it is, I hope, a 
 clear picture, drawn at close hand by one who, because of her 
 relationship to him and her intercourse with him, knew his 
 loyalty and tenderness of heart in a rare and satisfying way, 
 and had unusual opportunity of comprehending the point of 
 view, and therefore perhaps of clarifying the point of view, of 
 one of the great Americans of the day. 
 
 As I have reread his letters to me, as I have dwelt upon our 
 long and devoted friendship — for we were even more friends than 
 brother and sister — ^his character stands out to me more strongly 
 
viii Preface 
 
 than ever before as that of "The Great Sharer." He shared 
 all that he had — ^his worldly goods, his strong mentality, his 
 wide sympathy, his joyous fun, and his tender comprehension — 
 with all those with whom he came in contact, and especially 
 with those closest and dearest to him — the members of his own 
 family and his sisters. 
 
 In the spirit of confidence that my frankness will not be mis- 
 understood, I place a sister's interpretation of a world-wide 
 personality in the hands of my fellow Americans. 
 
 CoRiNNE Roosevelt Robinson. 
 
 September, 1921. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CAGE 
 
 I. The Nursery and Its Deities i 
 
 II. Green Fields and Foreign Faring 34 
 
 III. The Dresden Literary American Club ... 69 
 
 IV. College Chums and New-Found Leadership . . 94 
 
 V. The Young Reformer 116 
 
 VI. The Elkhorn Ranch and Near-Roughing It in 
 
 Yellowstone Park 135 
 
 VII. Two Recreant New York Policemen .... 155 
 
 VIII. Cowboy and Clubman 164 
 
 IX. The Rough Rider Storms the Capitol at Albany 181 
 
 X. How the Path Led to the White House . . 194 
 
 XI. Home Life in the White House 206 
 
 XII. Home Life in the White House (Continued) . 236 
 
 XIII. Wall Street Hopes Every Lion Will Do Its 
 
 Duty 254 
 
 XIV. The Great Denial 264 
 
 XV. Whisperings of War 276 
 
 XVI. "Do It Now" 303 
 
 XVII. War 323 
 
 XVIII. "The Quiet Quitting" 359 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt with his little granddaughter, Edith 
 Roosevelt Derby, 1918 Frontispiece 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt, Sr., aged thirty, 1862 .... 8 
 
 Martha Bulloch Roosevelt, twenty-two years old, about 1856 . 8 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt, about eighteen months old, i860 ... 18 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt, about four years old, 1862 18 
 
 Elliott Roosevelt, aged five and a half years, about 1865 . . 32 
 
 Corinne Roosevelt, about four years old, 1865 32 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt, aged seven, 1865 32 
 
 Corinne Roosevelt, 1869, at seven and a half years .... 46 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt at ten years of age 46 
 
 Anna Roosevelt at the age of fifteen when she spoke of herself 
 
 as one of the "three older ones" .... ... 46 
 
 The Dresden Literary American Club— Motto, "W. A. N. A." 
 
 ("We Are No Asses") 72 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt, Oyster Bay, September 21, 1875 ... 92 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt, December, 1876, aged eighteen ... 92 
 
 Portrait taken in Chicago, July, 1880, on the way to the hunt- 
 ing trip of that season 114 
 
 We had that lovely dinner on the portico at the back of the 
 
 White House looking toward the Washington Monument 230 
 
 A review of New York's drafted men before going into training 
 
 in September, 1917 332 
 
MY BROTHER 
 THEODORE ROOSEVELT 
 
THE STAR 
 Epiphany, 1919 
 
 Great soul, to all brave souls akin. 
 High bearer of the torch of truth, 
 
 Have you not gone to marshal in 
 Those eager hosts of youth? 
 
 Flung outward on the battle's tide, 
 They met in regions dim and far; 
 
 And you, in whom youth never died, 
 Shall lead them, as a star. 
 
 — MAKION COUTHOUY SMITH. 
 
MY BROTHER THEODORE ROOSEVELT 
 
 THE NURSERY AND ITS DEITIES 
 
 THE first recollections of a child are dim and hazy, and 
 so the nursery at 28 East 20th Street, in New York City, 
 does not stand out as clearly to me as I wish it did — ^but 
 the personality of my brother overshadowed the room, as his 
 personality all through life dominated his environment. 
 
 I suppose I must liave been about four, and he about seven, 
 when my first memory takes definite form. My older sister, 
 Anna, though only four years older than my brotiier Theodore, 
 was always mysteriously classed with the "grown people," and 
 the "nursery" consisted of my brother Theodore, my brother 
 Elliott, a year and a half younger than Theodore, and m3^elf, 
 still a year and a half younger than Elliott. 
 
 In those days we were "Teedie," "Ellie," and "Conie," 
 and we had the most lovely mother, the most manly, able, and 
 delightful father, and the most charming aunt, Anna Bulloch, 
 the sister of my Southern mother, with whom children were 
 ever blessed. 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt, whose name later became the sjoionym 
 of virile health and vigor, was a fragile, patient sufferer in those 
 early days of the nursery in 20th Street. I can see him now 
 struggling with the effort to breathe — ^for his enemy was that 
 terrible trouble, asthma — ^but always ready to give the turbulent 
 "little ones" the drink of water, book, or plaything which they 
 vociferously demanded, or equally ready to weave for us long 
 stories of animal life — stories closely resembling the jungle stories 
 of Kipling — for Mowgli had his precursor in the brain of the 
 little boy of seven or eight, whose knowledge of natural history 
 
2 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 even at that early age was strangely accurate, and whose imag- 
 ination gave to the creatures of forest and field impersonations 
 as vivid as those which Rudyard Kipling has made immortal 
 for ail time. 
 
 We used to sit, Elliott and I, on two little chairs, near the 
 higher chair which was his, and drink in these tales of endless 
 variety, and which always were "to be continued in our next" — 
 a serial story which never flagged in interest for us, though some- 
 times it continued from week to week, or even from month to 
 month. 
 
 It was in the nursery that he wrote, at the age of seven, the 
 famous essay on "The Foregoing Ant." He had read in Wood's 
 "Natural History" many descriptions of various species of ant, 
 and in one instance on turning the page the author continued: 
 "The foregoing ant has such and such characteristics." The 
 young naturalist, thinking that this particular ant was unique, 
 and being specially interested in its forthgoing character, decided 
 to write a thesis on "The Foregoing Ant," to the reading of which 
 essay he called in conclave "the grown people." One can well 
 imagine the tender amusement over the little author, an amuse- 
 ment, however, which those wise "grown people" of 28 East 
 20th Street never let degenerate into ridicule. 
 
 No memories of my brother could be accurate without an 
 analysis of the personalities who formed so big a part of our 
 environment in childhood, and I feel that my father, the first 
 Theodore Roosevelt, has never been adequately described. 
 
 He was the son of Cornelius Van Shaack and Margaret 
 Bamhill Roosevelt, whose old home on the comer of 14th Street 
 and Broadway was long a landmark in New York City. Corne- 
 lius Van Shaack Roosevelt was a typical merchant of his day, 
 fine and true and loyal, but ultraconservative in many ways; 
 and his lovely wife, to whom he addressed, later, such exquisite 
 poems that I have always felt that they should have been given 
 more than private circulation, was a Pennsylvanian of Quaker 
 blood. ' 
 
The Nursery and Its Deities 3 
 
 The first Theodore Roosevelt was the youngest of five sons, 
 and I remember my mother used to tell me how friends of her 
 mother-in-law once told her that Mrs. Cornelius Van Shaack 
 Roosevelt was always spoken of as "that lovely Mrs. Roose- 
 velt" with those "five horrid boys." 
 
 As far as I can see, the unpleasant adjective "horrid" was 
 only adaptable to the five little boys from the usual standpoint 
 of bojrish misdiief , xmtidiness, and general youthful irrepressible- 
 ness. 
 
 The youngest, my father, Theodore Roosevelt, often told 
 us himself how he deplored the fate of being the "fifth wheel 
 to the coach," and of how many a mortification he had to en- 
 dure by wearing clothes cut down from the different shapes of 
 his older brothers, and much depleted shoes about which, once, 
 on overhearing his mother say, "These were Robert's, but will 
 be a good change for Theodore," he protested vigorously, cry- 
 ing out that he was "tired of changes." 
 
 As the first Theodore grew older he developed into one of 
 the most enchanting characters with whom I, personally, have 
 ever come in contact; sunny, gay, dominant, unselfish, forceful, 
 and versatile, he yet had the extraordinary power of being a 
 focussed individual^ although an "all-roimd" man. Nothing 
 is as difficult as to achieve results in this world if one is filled 
 full of great tolerance and the milk of human kindness. The 
 person who achieves must generally be a one-ideaed individual, 
 concentrated entirely on that one idea, and ruthless in his aspect 
 toward other men and other ideas. 
 
 My father, in his brief life of forty-six years, achieved ahnost 
 everjrthing he undertook, and he undertook many things, but, 
 although able to give the concentration which is necessary to 
 achievement, he had the power of interesting himself in many 
 things outside of his own special interests, and by the most deli- 
 cate and comprehending sympathy made himself a factor in 
 the lives of any number of other human bemgs. 
 
 My brother's great love for his humankind was a direct in- 
 
4 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 heritancc from the man who was one of the founders in his aty 
 of nearly every patriotic, humanitarian, and educational en- 
 deavor. I think, perhaps, the combination of the stem old 
 Dutch blood with the Irish blood, of which my brother always 
 boasted, made my father what he was — ^unswerving in duty, im- 
 peccable in honesty and uprightness, and yet responsive to the 
 joy of life to such an extent that he would dance all night, and 
 drive his "four-in-hand" coach so fast that the old tradition 
 was "that his grooms frequently fell out at the comers" ! 
 
 I remember that he always gave up one day of every week 
 (and he was a very busy merchant and then banker) to the per- 
 sonal visiting of the poor in their homes. He was not satisfied 
 with doing active work on many organizations, although he 
 did the most extraordinary amount of active organization work, 
 being one of the foimders of the Children's Aid Society, of the 
 State Aid Society, of the Sanitary Commission and Allotment 
 Commission in the time of the Civil War, and of the Orthopaedic 
 Hospitd, not to mention the Museimi of Natural History and 
 the Museum of Art — ^but he felt that even more than this or- 
 ganized effort must be the effort to get close to the hearts and 
 homes of those who were less fortunately situated than he. 
 
 My older sister suffered from spinal trouble, and my father 
 was determined to leave no stone imtumed to make her body 
 fit for life's joys and life's labors, and it was because of his ef- 
 forts to give his Uttle girl health— successful efforts — that in 
 co-operation with his friends Howard Potter and James M. 
 Brown and several others he started the great work of the New 
 York Orthopaedic Hospital, having become imbued with belief 
 in the methods of a young doctor, Charles Fayette Taylor. No- 
 body at that time believed in treating such diseases in quite 
 the way in which modem orthopaedy treats them now, but my 
 father, like his son, had the vision of things to be, and was a 
 leader in his way, as was my brother in his. 
 
 He could not at first influence sufficient people to start the 
 building of a hospital, and he decided that if the New York 
 
The Nursery and Its Deities 5 
 
 public could only see what the new instruments would do for the 
 stricken children, that it could be aroused to assist the enterr 
 prise. 
 
 And so, one beautiful spring afternoon, my mother gave 
 what was supposed to be a purely social reception at our second 
 home, at 6 West 57th Street, and my father saw to it that the 
 little sufferers in whom he was interested were brought from 
 their poverty-stricken homes to ours and laid upon our dining- 
 room table, with the steel appliances which could help them 
 back to normal limbs on their backs and legs, thus ready to 
 visualize to New York citizens how these stricken Uttle people 
 might be cured. He placed me by the table where the children 
 lay, and explained to me how I could show the appliances, and 
 what they were supposed to achieve; and I can still hear the 
 voice of the first Mrs. John Jacob Astor, as she leaned over one 
 fragile-looking child and, turning to my father, said: "Theodore, 
 you are right; these children must be restored and made into 
 active citizens again, and I for one will help you in your 
 work." 
 
 That very day enough money was donated to start the first 
 Orthopaedic Hospital, in East sgth Street. Many business 
 friends of my father used to tell me that they feared his sudden 
 visits when, with a certain expression in his eyes, he would ap- 
 proach them, for then before he could say anything at all they 
 would feel obUged to take out their pocketbooks and ask: "How 
 much this time, Theodore?" 
 
 One of his most devoted interests was the newsboys' lodging- 
 house in West i8th Street, and later in 35th Street, under the 
 auspices of the Children's Aid Society. Every Sunday evening 
 of his life he went to that lodging-house, after our early hos- 
 pitable Sunday supper, to which many a forlorn relation or 
 stranded stranger in New York was always inyited, and there 
 he would talk to the boys, giving them just such ideas of pa- 
 triotism, good citizenship, and manly morality as were the 
 themes of his son in later years. 
 
6 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 The foundational schane of the Children's Aid Society was, 
 and is, to place little city waifs in country homes, and thus give 
 them the chance of health and individual care, and a very dra- 
 matic incident occurred many years after my father's death, 
 when my brother, as governor of New York State and candidate 
 for the vice-presidency in 1900, had gone to the Far West to make 
 the great campaign for the second election of William McKinley. 
 The governors of many Western States decided to meet in the 
 dty of Portland, Ore., to give a dinner and do honor to the 
 governor of the Empire State, and as Governor Roosevelt en- 
 tered the room they each in turn presented themselves to him. 
 The last one to come forward was Governor Brady, of Alaska, 
 and as he shook hands with Governor Roosevelt he said: " Gov- 
 ernor Roosevelt, the other governors have greeted you with 
 interest, simply as a fellow governor and a great American, but 
 I greet you with infinitely more interest, as the son of your 
 father, the first Theodore Roosevelt." 
 
 My brother smiled and shook him warmly by the hand, and 
 asked in what special way he had been interested in our father, 
 and he replied: "Your father picked me up from the streets in 
 New York, a waif and an orphan, and sent me to a Western 
 family, paying for my transportation and early care. Years 
 passed and I was able to repay the money which had given me 
 my start in life, but I can never repay what he did for me, for 
 it was through that early care and by giving me such a foster 
 mother and father that I gradually rose in the world, imtil to- 
 day I can greet his son as a fellow governor of a part of our great 
 country." 
 
 I was so thrilled when my brother told me this story on his 
 return from that campaign, that the very next Sunday evening 
 I begged him to go with me to the old ssth Street lodging-house 
 to tell the newsbo)rs that were assembled there the story of an- 
 other little newsboy, now the governor of Alaska, to show that 
 there is no bar in this great, free coimtry of ours to what per- 
 sonal effort may achieve. 
 
The Nursery and Its Deities 7 
 
 My father was the most intimate friend of each of his chil- 
 dren, and in some unique way seemed to have the power of re- 
 sponding to the need of each, and we all craved him as our most 
 desired companion. One of his delightful rules was that on 
 the birthday of each child he should give himself in some special 
 way to that child, and many were the perfect excursions which 
 he and I took together on my birthday. 
 
 The day being toward the end of September was always 
 spent in the country, and lover as he was of fine horses, I was 
 always given the special treat of an all day's adventure behind 
 a pair of splendid trotters. We would take the books of poetry 
 which we both loved and we would disappear for the ' whole 
 day, driving many miles through leafy lanes until we found the 
 ideal spot, where we unharnessed the horses and gave them their 
 dinner, and having taken our own delicious picnic limch, would 
 read aloud to each other by the hour, until the early September 
 twilight warned us that we must be on our way homeward. 
 
 In those earlier days in New York the amusements were 
 perhaps simpler, but the hospitality was none the less generous> 
 and our parents were indeed "given to hospitality." 
 
 My lovely Southern mother, of whom I will speak more 
 later, had inherited from her forebears a gift for hospitality,- 
 and we yoimg children, according to Southern customs, were 
 allowed to mingle more with our elders than was the case with 
 many New York children. I am a great believer in such min- 
 gling, and some of the happiest friendships of our later lives were 
 formed with the chosen companions of our parents, but many 
 things were done for us individually as well. When we were 
 between thirteen and sixteen I remember the delightful little 
 Friday-evening dances which my mother and father organized 
 for us in 57th Street, and in which they took actual part them- 
 selves. 
 
 As I said before, my father could dance all night with the 
 same delightful vim that he could turn to his business or his 
 philanthropy in the daytime, and he enjoyed our pleasures as he 
 
8 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 did his own. It always seems to me sad that the relationship 
 between father and son, or father and daughter, should not have 
 the quaKty of chann, a quality which it so often lacks, and which 
 I believe is largely lacking because of the failure of the older 
 generation to enter into the attitude of the younger generation. 
 
 I was delicate at one period and could not dance as I had 
 always done, and I remember when I was going to a little en- 
 tertainment, just as I was leaving the house I received an ex- 
 quisite bunch of violets witii a card from my father, asking me 
 to wear the flowers, and thmk of his wish that I should not over- 
 tire myself, but also of his sympathy that I could not jio quite 
 what I had always done. 
 
 Comparatively few little girls of fourteen have had so lover- 
 like an attention from a father, and just such thought and ten- 
 der, loving comprehension made our relationship to our father 
 one of perfect comradeship, and yet of respectful adoration. 
 He tau^t us all, when very young, to ride and to swim and to 
 climb trees. I remember the careful way in which he would 
 show us dead limbs and warn us about watching out for them, 
 and then, having taught us and having warned us, he gave us 
 full liberty to try our wings and fall by the wayside should they 
 prove inadequate for our adventures. 
 
 After graduating from our first Shetland pony, he provided 
 us each with a riding-horse, and alwa)^ rode with us himself, 
 and a merry cavalcade went forth from our country home, either 
 early in the mormng before he started for the train or in the 
 soft svmmier evenings on his return. When at one time we were 
 living on the Hudson River, we had hoped one autimin after- 
 noon that he would come home early from the city, and great 
 was our disappointment when a tremendous storm came up and 
 we realized that he would take a later train, and that our be- 
 loved ride must be foregone. We were eagerly waiting in the 
 hall for his return and watching the rain falling in torrents and 
 the wind blowing it in gusts, when the depot wagon drove up 
 to the door and my father leaped out, followed by the slight 
 
The Nursery and Its Deities 9 
 
 figure of a somewhat younger man. As the young man tried 
 to put up his umbrella it blew inside out and, like a dilapidated 
 pinwheel loosened from his hand, ran round and roimd in a cir- 
 cle. The unknown guest merrily chased the umbrella pinwheel, 
 and my mother, who had joined us children at the window, 
 laughingly wondered who my father's new friend was. The 
 front door opened and the two dripping men came in, and we 
 rushed to meet them. 
 
 I can see the laughing face of the young man become sud- 
 denly shy and a little self-conscious as my father said to my 
 mother: "Mittie, I want to present to you a young man who 
 in the future, I believe, will make his name well known in the 
 United States. This is Mr. John Hay, and I wish the children 
 to shake hands with him." 
 
 Many and many a time, long, long years after, when John 
 Hay was secretary of state in the cabinet of the second Theo- 
 dore Roosevelt, he used to refer to that stormy autumn after- 
 noon when a delicate boy of eleven, at the instigation of 
 his father, shook hands with him and looked gravely up into 
 his face, wondering perhaps how John Hay was going to make 
 his name known throughout the United States. How little did 
 Mr. Hay think then that one day he would be the secretary of 
 state when that same little delicate boy was President of the 
 United States. 
 
 My father's intimacy with John Hay had come about through 
 the fact of contact in the Civil War, when they both worked so 
 hard in Washington together. 
 
 My father stands out as the most dominant figure in our 
 early childhood. Not that my mother was not equally indi- 
 vidual, but her delicate health prevented her from entering into 
 our sports and uruiily doings as our father did; but I have al- 
 ways thought that she, in an almost equal degree with my father, 
 influenced my brother's nature, both by her French Huguenot 
 and Scotch blood and her Southern ancestry. 
 
 The story of her meeting with my father has a romantic flavor 
 
lo My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 to it. My grandmother, Mrs. Stephens BuUoch, lived in an 
 old plantation above Atlanta, on the sand-hills of Georgia. 
 There, in the old white-columned house overlooking a beautiful 
 valley, my grandmother led a patriarchal life, the head of a large 
 family, for she had been as a young girl the second wife of Sena- 
 tor John Elliott, and she not only brought up the^chiidren of that 
 marriage but the children and stepchild of her second marriage 
 as well. My own mother was the second daughterjof Mr. and 
 Mrs. Stephens Bulloch, but she never knew the difference be- 
 tween her Elliott half brother and sisters, her Bulloch half- 
 brother and her own brother and sister. 
 
 In the roomy old home with its simple white columns there 
 was led an ideal Ufe, and the devotion of her children to my beau- 
 tiful grandmother, as the many letters in my possession prove, 
 was one of the inspiring factors in their lives, and became the 
 same to our own childhood, for many were the loving stories 
 told us by my mother and aunt of the wonderful character of 
 their mother, who ran her Southern plantation (Mr. Bulloch 
 died comparatively young) with all the practical ability and 
 kindly supervision over her slaves characteristic of the Southern 
 men and women of her time. 
 
 The aforesaid slaves were treated as friends of the family,^ 
 and they became to us, her little Northern grandchildren, figures 
 of great interest. We were never tired of hearing the stories 
 of "Daddy Luke" and "Mom Charlotte." 
 
 The first of these two, a magnificent Nubian, with thick 
 black lips and very curly hair, was the coachman and trusted 
 comrade of my grandmother's children, while his wife, "Mom 
 Charlotte," was a very fastidious mulatto, slender and hand- 
 some, who, for some illogical reason, considered her mixed blood 
 superior to his pure dark strain. She loved him, but with a 
 certain amount of disdain, and though on week-days she treated 
 him more or less as an equal, on Sundas^s, when dressed in her 
 very best bandanna and her most elegant prayer-book in hand, 
 she utterly refused to have him walk beside her on the path to 
 
The Nursery and Its Deities ii 
 
 church, and obliged him ignominiously to bring up the rear with 
 shamefaced inferiority. Mom Chariotte on Sundays, when in 
 her superior mood, woxdd look at her spouse with contempt, 
 and say, "B' Luke, he notHn' but a black nigger; he mout' stan' 
 out to de spring," referring to Daddy Luke's thick Nubian lips, 
 and pointing at the well about one hundred yards distant from 
 the porch. 
 
 There was also a certain "little black Sarah," who was the 
 foster-sister of my uncle, Irvine Bulloch, my mother's younger 
 brother. In the old Southern days on such plantations there 
 was almost always a colored "pickaninny" to match each white 
 child, and they were actually considered as foster brother or 
 sister. Little Irvine was afraid of the darkness inside the house, 
 and Kttle Sarah was afraid of the darkness outside the house, 
 and so the little white boy and the little black girl were insepa- 
 rable companions, each guarding the other from the imaginary 
 dangers of house or grounds, and each sympathetically round- 
 ing out the care-free life of the other. 
 
 My mother's brilliant half-brother, Stewart Elliott, whose 
 love of art and literature and music took him far afield, spent 
 much of his time abroad, and when he came back to Roswell 
 (the name of the plantation) he was always much amused at 
 the quaint slave customs. One perfect moonlight night he took 
 his guitar into the grove near the house to sing to the group of 
 girls on the porch, but shortly afterward returned much dis- 
 gusted and described the conversation which he had overheard 
 between little white Irvine and little black Sarah on the back 
 porch. It ran as follows, both children gazing up into the sky: 
 Sarah: "Sonny, do you see de Moon?" "Yes, Sarah, it do 
 crawi like a worrum." The moon at the moment was perform- 
 ing the feat which Shelley poetically described as gliding, "glim- 
 mering o'er its fleecelike floor." The young musician could 
 not stand the proximity of such masters of simile as were Irvine 
 and Sarah, and demanded that they should be forbidden the 
 back porch on moonlight nights from that time forth ! 
 
12 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 There was also another young slave who went by the name 
 of "Black Bess," and was the devoted companion of her two 
 young mistresses, Martha, my mother, and her sister, Anna 
 Bulloch. She slept on a mat at the foot of their beds and ren- 
 dered the devoted services that only the slave of the old plan- 
 tation days ever gave to his or her mistress. My mother used 
 to accompany her mother on her visits to all the outlying little 
 huts in which the various negroes lived, and she often told us 
 the story of a visit one day to "Mom Lucy's" little home, where 
 a baby had just been bom. 
 
 Mom Lucy had had several children, none of whom had 
 lived but a few hours, and when my grandmother and her little 
 daughter visited the new baby, now about a week old, the mother, 
 still lying on her couch, looked up at my grandmother and said: 
 "Ole Miss, I jus' done name her." "And what have you named 
 her, Lucy?" asked my grandmother; "she is a fine baby and 
 I am so glad you are going to have the comfort of her all your 
 life." "Oh!" said the colored woman sadly, "I don't 'spec' 
 her to live, dey ain't none of 'em done live, and so I jus' call her 
 Cumsy." "Cumsy?" said my grandmother, "and what may 
 that mean, Lucy?" "Why, ole Miss, don't you understan'? 
 Dey all done go to deir heavenly home, and so I jus' call dis one 
 'Come-see-de-world-and-go,' and my ole man and me we is goin' 
 to call her 'Cumsy' for short." 
 
 My grandmother tried to argue Lucy out of this mortuary 
 cognomen, but with no effect, and years afterward when my 
 mother revisited Roswell as Mrs. Theodore Roosevelt, one of 
 the first negroes to greet her was "Come-see-the-world-and-go !" 
 
 All these stories of the old plantation were fascinating to 
 the children of the nursery in 20th Street, and we loved to hear 
 how the brothers and sisters in that old house played and worked, 
 for they all did their share in the work of the household. There 
 the beautiful half-sister of my mother, Susan Elliott, brought 
 her Northern lover, Hilbome West, of Philadelphia, whose sister, 
 Mary West, had shortly before married Weir Roosevelt, of New 
 
The Nursery and Its Deities, 13 
 
 York, the older brother of my father, Theodore Roosevelt. This 
 same Hilbome West, a young physician of brilliant promise, 
 adored the informal, fascinating plantation life, and loved the 
 companionship of the two dainty, pretty girls of fourteen and 
 sixteen, Martha and Anna Bulloch, his fiancee's young half^ 
 sisters. 
 
 Many were the private theatricals and riding-parties, and 
 during that first gay visit Doctor West constantly spoke of his 
 young connection by marriage, Theodore Roosevelt, who he 
 felt would love Roswell as he did. 
 
 A year afterward, inspired by the stories of Doctor West, 
 my father, a young man of nineteen, asked if he might pay a 
 visit at the old plantation, and there began the love-affair with 
 a black-haired girl of fifteen which later was to develop into 
 so deep a devotion that when the young Roosevelt, two years 
 later, returned from a trip abroad and foimd this same young 
 girl visiting her sister in Philadelphia, he succiunbed at once 
 to the fascination from which he had never fully recovered, and 
 later travelled once more to the old pillared house on the sand- 
 hills of Georgia, to cany Martha Bulloch away from her South- 
 ern home forever. 
 
 I cannot help quoting from letters from Martha Bulloch 
 written in July, 1853, shortly after her engagement, and again 
 from Martha Roosevelt a little more than a year later, when 
 she revisits her old home. She had been hard to win, but when 
 her lover leaves Roswell at the end of his first visit, immediately 
 following their engagement, she yields herself fully and writes: 
 
 Thee, Dearest Thee: ^°^"^"' ^"^^ '^' ''''■ 
 
 I promised to tell you if I cried when you left me. I had 
 determined not to do so if possible, but when the dreadful feel- 
 ing came over me that you were, indeed, gone, I could not help 
 my tears from springing and had to rush away and be alone with 
 myself. Everything now seems associated with you. Even 
 
14 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 when I run up the stairs going to my own room, I feel as if you 
 were near, and turn involuntarily to kiss my hand to you. I 
 feel, dear Thee,— as though you were part of my existence, and 
 that I only live in your being, for now I am confident of my own 
 deep love. When I went in to lunch today I felt very sad, for 
 there was no one now to whom to make the request to move 
 "just a quarter of an inch farther away "—but how foolish I 
 am, — ^you will be tired of this "rhapsody. . . ." 
 
 Tom King has just been here to persuade us to join the Brush 
 Mountain picnic tomorrow. We had refused but we are recon- 
 sidering. 
 
 July 27th, 
 
 We have just returned after having had a most delightful 
 time. It was almost impossible for our horses to keep a foot- 
 hold, the Moimtain was so steep, but we were fully repaid by 
 the beautiful extended view from the top, and when we de- 
 scended, at the bottom, the gentlemen had had planks spread 
 and carriage cushions arranged for us to rest, and about four 
 o'clock we had our dinner. Such appetites! Sandwiches, 
 chicken wings, bread and cheese disappeared miraculously. 
 
 Tom had a fire built and we had nice hot tea and about si^ 
 o'clock we commenced our return. I had promised to ride back 
 with Henry Stiles, so I did so, and you cannot imagine what a 
 picturesque effect our riding party had, — not having any Habit, 
 I fixed a bright red shawl as a skirt and a long red scarf on my 
 head, turban fashion with long ends streaming. Lizzie Smith' 
 and Anna dressed in the same way, and we were all perfectly 
 wild with spirits and created quite an excitement in Roswell by 
 our gay cavalcade — But all the same I was joked all day by 
 everybody, who said that they could see that my eyes were 
 swollen and that I had been crying. 
 
 All this in a very delicate Italian hand, and leaving her lover, 
 I imagine, a little jealous of "Henry Stiles," in spite of the 
 "rhapsody" at the beginning of the letter! 
 
The Nursery and Its Deities 15 
 
 My father's answer to that very letter is so full of deep joy 
 at the "rhapsody," in which his beautiful and occasionally ca- 
 pricious Southern sweetheart indulged, that I do not think he 
 even remembered "Henry Stiles," for he replies to her as fol- 
 lows: 
 
 New York, August 3rd. 
 
 How can I express to you the pleasure which I received 
 in reading your letter ! I felt as you recalled so vividly to my 
 mind the last morning of our parting, the blood rush to my tem- 
 ples; and I had, as I was in the office, to lay the letter down, 
 for a few minutes to regain command of myself. I had been 
 hoping against hope to receive a letter from you, but such a letter ! 
 0, Mittie, how deeply, how devotedly I love you ! Do continue 
 to return my love as ardently as you do now, or if possible love 
 me more. I know my love for you merits such return, and do, 
 dear little Mittie, continue to write, (when you feel moved to !) 
 just such "rhapsodies." 
 
 On December 3, 1853, very shortly before her wedding, 
 Martha Bulloch writes another letter, and in spite of her orig- 
 inal "rhapsody," and her true devotion to her lover, one can 
 see that she has many girlish qualms, for she writes him: "I 
 do dread the time before our wedding, darling — and I wish that 
 it was all up and that I had died game ! " 
 
 A year and a half later. May 2, 1855, Martha Roosevelt is 
 again at the home of her childhood, this time with her little baby, 
 my older sister, Anna, and her husband has to leave her, and 
 she writes "again: 
 
 "I long to hear you say once again that you love me. I 
 know you do but still I would like to have a fresh avowal. You 
 have proved that you love me dear, in a thousand ways and 
 still I long to hear it again and again. It will be a joyful day 
 when we meet again. I feel as though I would never wish to 
 leave your side again. You know how much I enjoy being with 
 mother and Anna, but all the same I am only waiting until 
 
1 6 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 'Thee' comes, for you can hardly imagine what a wanting feel- 
 ing I have when you are gone. 
 
 "Mother is out in the entry talking to one of the 'Crackers,' 
 While I was dressing mother brought in a sweet rose and I have 
 it in my breast pin. I have picked one of the leaves off just 
 this moment and send it to you — for Thee — the roses are out 
 in beautiful profusion and I wish you could see them. . . ." 
 
 A year and a half in the cold North had not dimmed the 
 ardor of affection between the young couple. 
 
 We children of the nursery in 28 East 20th Street loved 
 nothing better than to make my mother and aunt tell us the 
 story of the gay wedding at the old home near Atlanta. I re- 
 member stiU the thrill of excitement with which I used to listen 
 to the details of that wonderful week before the wedding when 
 all the bridesmaids and ushers gathered at the homestead, and 
 every imaginable festivity took place. 
 
 One of my mother's half-brothers had just returned from 
 Europe, and fell in love at first sight with one of her beautiful 
 bridesmaids, already, alas ! engaged to another and much older 
 man, not a member of the wedding-party. My child's heart 
 suffered unwarranted pangs at the story of the intense attrac- 
 tion of these two young people for each other, and I always felt 
 that I could see the lovely bridesmaid riding back with the man 
 to whom she had imwittingly given her heart, under the South* 
 em trees dripping with hanging moss. The romantic story 
 ended tragically in an unwilling marriage, a duel, and muci 
 that was imfortunate. 
 
 But my mother and my father had no such complications 
 in their own lives, and the Southern girl who went away with 
 her Northern lover never regretted that step, although much 
 that was difficult and troublous came into their early married 
 life because of the years of war from 1861 to 1865, when Martha 
 Bulloch's brothers fought for the South and Theodore Roose- 
 velt did splendid and unselfish work in upholding the principles 
 for which the North was giving its blood and brawn. 
 
The Nurserv and Its Deities 17 
 
 The fighting blood of James Dunwoody and Irvine Bulloch 
 was the same blood infused through their sister into the veins 
 of their young kinsman, the second Theodore Roosevelt, and 
 showed in him the same glowing attributes. The gallant atti- 
 tude of their mother, Mrs. Stephens Bulloch, also had its share 
 in the making of her famous grandson. 
 
 Her son Irvine was only a lad of sixteen, while her stepson, 
 James, was much older and was already a famous naval blockade- 
 runner when she parted from them. Turning to her daughter 
 Anna she prayed that she might never live to know if Irvine 
 were killed or Richmond taken by the Northern army. I can- 
 not but rejoice that her life passed away before such news could 
 come to her. It must have been bitter, indeed, for her under 
 these circumstances to face the necessity of accepting the bread 
 of her Northern son-in-law, and it speaks volimies for the 
 characters of both that during the whole war there was never 
 a moment of estrangement between them or between my 
 father and his lovely sister-in-law, Anna Bulloch, who be- 
 came, because of the fact that she lived with us during those 
 early years of our lives, one of the most potent influences of our 
 childhood. ' , 
 
 I, myself, remember nothing of the strain of those troubled 
 days; but my aunt has often told me of the bedtime hour in 
 the nursery when a certain fair-haired, delicate little boy, hardly 
 four years old, would kneel at her side to say his evening prayer, 
 and feeling that she would not dare interrupt his petition to 
 the Almighty, would call down in baby tones and with bent 
 head the wrath of the Almighty upon the rebel troops. She 
 said that she could never forget the fury in the childish voice 
 when he would plead with Divine Providence to "grind the 
 Southern troops to powder." 
 
 This same lovely aunt taught us our letters at her knee, in 
 that same nursery, having begged, in return for my father's hos- 
 pitality, that she should be accepted as our first instructress, 
 and not only did she teach us the three R's, but many and many 
 
1 8 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 a delightful hour was passed in listening to her wonderful ren- 
 derings of the "Br'er Rabbit" stories. 
 
 Both my aimt and my mother had but little opportunity 
 for consecutive education, but they were what it seems to me 
 Southern women ever are — ^natural women of the world, and 
 yet they combined with a perfect readiness to meet all situa- 
 tions an exquisite simplicity and sensitive sympathy, rarely 
 found in the women of the North. This sensitiveness was not 
 only evidenced in their human relationships but in all pertain- 
 iag to art and literature. I have often said that they were 
 natural connoisseurs. 
 
 I remember that my father would never buy any wine until 
 my mother had tasted it, and experts of various kinds came to - 
 her in the same way for expressions of her opinion. She was very 
 beautiful, with black, fine hair — ^not the dusky brunette's coarse 
 black hair, but fine of texture and with a glow that sometimes 
 seemed to have a slightly russet shade, what her French hair^ 
 dresser called "noir dore," and her skin was the purest and most 
 delicate white, more moonKght-white than cream-white, and 
 in the cheeks there was a coral, rather than a rose, tint. She 
 was considered to be one of the most beautiful women of the 
 New York of her day, a reputation only shared by Mrs. Gardiner 
 Rowland, and to us, her children, and to her devoted husband 
 she seemed like an exquisite "objet d'art," to be carefully and 
 lovingly cherished. Her wit, as well as that of my aunt, was 
 known by aU her friends and yet it was never used imkindly, 
 for she had the most loving heart imaginable, and in spite of 
 this rare beauty and her wit and charm, she never seemed to 
 know that she was unusual in any degree, and cared but little 
 for anj^thing but her own home and her own children. Owing 
 to delicate health she was not able to enter into the active life 
 of her husband and children, and therefore our earliest memo- 
 ries, where our activities were concerned, turn to my father and 
 my aunt, but always my mother's gracious loveliness and deep 
 devotion wrapped us round as with a mantle. 
 
The Nursery and Its Deities 19 
 
 And so these were the three Deities of the Nursery in which 
 Theodore Roosevelt spent his first years, and even at that early 
 time they realized that in that simple room in the house which 
 the patriotic women of America are about to restore as a mecca 
 for the American people there dwelt a unique little personality 
 whose mentality grasped things beyond the ken of other boys 
 of his age, and whose gallant spirit surmounted the physical 
 difficulties engendered by his puny and fragile body. 
 
 The nursery at 28 East 20th Street in the early years of the 
 Civil War missed its chief deity, my father. From the letters 
 exchanged by my mother and father, preserved by each of them, 
 I have formed a clear realization of what it meant to that nurs- 
 ery to lose for almost two years the gay and vigorous personal- 
 ity who always dominated his environment as did later his son. 
 
 Mr. William E. Dodge, in a very beautiful letter written 
 for the memorial meeting of the Union League Club in February, 
 1878, just after my father's death, gave the following interesting 
 accoimt of my father's special work in the Civil War,. This 
 letter was read after an eloquent speech delivered by Mr. Joseph 
 H. Choate. The part of the letter to which I especially refer 
 ran as follows: 
 
 "When the shadows of the coming war began to grow into 
 a reality he (Theodore Roosevelt) threw himself with all his 
 heart and soul into work for the country. 
 
 "From peculiar circumstances he was unable to volunteer 
 for military service, as was his wish, but he began at once to 
 develop practical plans of usefulness to help those who had gone 
 to the front. 
 
 "He became an active worker on the Advisory Board of the 
 Woman's Central Association of Relief, that wonderful and 
 far-reachihg orgajnization of patriotic women out of which grew 
 the Sanitary Commission. 
 
 "He worked with the 'Loyal Publication Society,' which, 
 as many of our members know, was a most active and useful 
 
20 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 educating power in the days when there was great ignorance as 
 to the large issues of the conflict. 
 
 "He joined enthusiastically in the organization of the Union 
 League Club, was for years a most valued member of its execu- 
 tive committees and aided in the raising and equipment of the 
 first colored troops. 
 
 "His great practical good sense led him to see needs which 
 escaped most other minds. He felt that the withdrawal from 
 the homes of so many enlisted men would leave great want in 
 many sections of the country. He saw the soldiers were more 
 than amply clothed and fed, and their large pay wasted mostly 
 among the sutlers, and for purposes which injured their health 
 and efficiency. So with two others he drafted a bill for the ap- 
 pointment of Allotment Commissioners, who without pay should 
 act for the War Department and arrange to send home to needy 
 families, without risk or cost, the money not needed in the camps. 
 For three months they worked in Washington to secure the pas- 
 sage of this act — delayed by the utter inability of Congressmen 
 to understand why anyone should urge a bill from which no one 
 could selfishly secure an advantage. 
 
 "When this was passed he was appointed by President Lin- 
 coln one of the three Commissioners from this State. For long, 
 weary months, in the depth of a hard winter, he went from 
 camp to camp, urging the men to take advantage of this plan. 
 
 "On the saddle often six to eight hours a day, standing iii 
 the cold and mud as long, addressing the men and entering their 
 names. 
 
 "This resulted in sending many millions of dollars to homes 
 where it was greatly needed, kept the memory of wives and chil- 
 dren fresh in the minds of the soldiers, and greatly improved 
 their morale. Other States followed, and the economical results 
 were very great. 
 
 "Towards the close of the war, finding the crippled soldiers 
 and the families of those who had fallen were suffering for back 
 pay due and for pensions, and that a race of greedy and wicked 
 
The Nursery and Its Deities 21 
 
 men were taking advantage of their needs to plmider them, he 
 joined in organizing the Protective War-Claim Association, 
 which without charge collected these dues. This saved to the 
 soldiers' families more than $1,000,000 of fees. 
 
 "He also devised and worked heartily in the Soldiers' Em- 
 ployment Bureau, which found fitting work for the crippled men 
 who by loss of limb were unfitted for their previous occupations. 
 This did wonders toward absorbing into tiie population of the 
 coimtry those who otherwise would have been dependent, and 
 preserved the self-respect of the men. I believe it did more 
 and vastly better work than all the 'Soldiers' homes' combined. 
 For the work in the Allotment Commission he received the spe- 
 cial and formal thanks of the State in a joint resolution of the 
 Legislature." 
 
 Nothing was more characteristic of my father's attitude 
 toward life than his letters during this period to my mother. 
 He realized fully that in leaving his young family he was putting 
 upon his youthful and delicate wife — ^whose mental suffering 
 during the war must have been great, owing to the fact of her 
 being a Southerner — ^her full share of what was difficult in the 
 situation. He writes with the utmost frankness of his wish 
 that she might look on the great question of which the war was 
 a symptom from the same standpoint as his, but the beautiful 
 love and trust which existed between them was such that in 
 all these letters which passed so constantly during my father's 
 labors as Allotment Commissioner, there was never the slightest 
 evidence of hurt feelings or friction of any kind. 
 
 In the early fall of i86i he was struggling to have passed 
 by Congress the bill to appoint Allotment Commissioners, and 
 spent weary days in Washington to achieve that purpose. When 
 the biU was passed and he and Mr. William E. Dodge and Mr. 
 Theodore Bronson were appointed as the three commissioners, 
 he threw himself with all the ardor and unselfishness of his mag- 
 nificent nature into the hard work of visiting the camps in mid- 
 winter, and persuading the reluctant soldiers to believe that it 
 
22 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 was their duty to allot a certain portion of their pay to their 
 destitute families. 
 
 He writes on January i, 1862: 
 
 I have stood on the damp ground talking to the troop and 
 taking their names for six hours at a time. One of the regiments 
 that I visited last, which is wretchedly officered and composed 
 of the scum of our city, seemed for the first time even to recall 
 their families. We had an order from the General of Division, 
 and the Colonel sent his adjutant to carry out our desires. He 
 came, dirty and so drunk that he could not speak straight, and 
 of course got the orders wrong. All the officers seem to be in 
 with the sutler while the private said he was an unmitigated 
 thief. The delays were so great that I stood out with one of 
 these companies after seven o'clock at night, with one soldier 
 holding a candle while I took down the names of those who de-. 
 sired to send money home. The men looked as hard as I have 
 often seen such men look in our Mission neighborhood, but after 
 a little talking and explaining my object and reminding them of 
 those they had left behind them, one after another put down 
 his name, and from this company alone, they allotted, while 
 I was there, $600.00. This would be increased afterwards by 
 the officers, if they were decent ones, and other men absent on 
 guard and through other reasons. I could not help thinking 
 what a subject for a painting it would make as I stood out there 
 in the dark night, surrounded by the men with one candle just 
 showiag glimpses of their faces, — tents all around us in the woods. 
 One man, after putting down five dollars a month, said suddenly: 
 "My old woman has always been good to me, and if you please, 
 change it to ten." In a moment, half a dozen others followed 
 his example and doubled their allotments. 
 
 I enclose a letter for Teedie [Theodore]. Do take care of 
 yourself and the dear little children while I am away, and re- 
 member to enjoy yourself just as much as you can. [This 
 sentence is so like my father. Duty was always paramount, 
 
The Nursery and Its Deities 23 
 
 but joy walked hand in hand with duty whenever it legitimately 
 could.] 
 
 I do not want you not to miss me, but remember that I would 
 never have felt satisfied with myself after this war is over if I 
 had done nothing, and that I do feel now that I am only doing 
 my duty* I know you will not regret having me do what is 
 right, and I do not believe you will love me any the less for it. 
 
 Yours as ever, 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt. 
 
 This particular letter is very characteristic of the father of 
 President Roosevelt — a man of the qualities which his country 
 has grown to associate with its beloved "Colonel." In my 
 brother's case they were the direct inheritance from the man who 
 stood out knee-deep in mud using his wonderful personality 
 to make those hard-faced drafted men remember their own 
 people at home, and at the same time writes to the lovely mother 
 of his children to try and enjoy herself as much as possible in 
 his absence. 
 
 My mother's answers to my father's letters were very lov- 
 ing. Alone, and delicate, she never dwells on loneliness or ill 
 health, but tells him the dear details of the home he loved so 
 well. On January 8, 1862, she writes: "Teedie came down stairs 
 this moming looking rather sad, and said 'I feel badly — I have 
 a tooth ache in my stomach.' — later he asked if 'Dod' (God) was 
 a fox? ! — this after being shown a picture of a very clever looking 
 fox ! He is the most affectionate and endearing little creature 
 in his ways." One can well imagine how the lonely father, doing 
 his distant and gruelling duty, treasured the dainty letters full 
 of quaint stories of childish sa3dngs. In another and later mis- 
 sive there is a description of a birthday supper-party in which 
 "Teedie" is host to his cousins; it runs as follows: "Teedie, 
 the host, was too busy with his chicken and potatoes to con- 
 verse much, but as soon as he finished he made the sage remark 
 that he 'loved chicken, roast beef and everything that was good 
 
24 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 better than salt water.' This speech occasioned a roar of 
 laughter, and was evidently thought very witty. Teedie, too, 
 seemed to be under the false impression that it was clever. He 
 seemed to be inflated with vanity for some time afterwards ! " 
 How gladly the tired man, after long days in the saddle, and 
 evenings of effort with sullen soldiers, must have turned to just 
 such humorous accoimts of the small boy who always said or 
 did something quaint, which lost nothing in the picture drawn 
 by the facile pen of his mother. 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt writes his wife again in January, 1862, 
 a letter interesting because of his attitude toward the German 
 regiments. He says: 
 
 "We are continually at work now, and to-day saw three 
 regiments, but even at this rate, it will be long before I see you 
 again. They were all Germans to-day — a motley crew, having 
 few friends and frequently no characters. We had been told 
 that we ran the risk of our lives by going to these regiments, and 
 much more nonsense of the same kind, but the only risk we 
 ran has been from starvation. We were out talking to the men 
 until very late, and then foimd a German dinner which Dodge 
 could eat nothing of but the brown bread. He wanted to be 
 polite, however, and I was much amused with his statement 
 that he would ride five miles to get such bread, which was 
 literally a fact, however, I have no doubt, in his state of star- 
 vation. 
 
 "The men, as Germans always do, took time to consider, 
 and we left them to describe the allotment idea to other per- 
 sons. However, after due consideration, a fair number sent 
 money home. These Germans were generally of the lowest char- 
 acters, and with the exception of one regiment disappointed me, 
 although I have no doubt they will fight well. There are some 
 12,000 of them. 
 
 "This morning I saw that our efforts are noticed in The World 
 and The Tribune. You have seen, I suppose, that we have been 
 mentioned several times in The Times. This is particularly 
 
The Nursery and Its Deities 25 
 
 satisfying as the papers threatened once to be down on us, which 
 would lose for us the confidence of the soldiers." 
 
 The letters all give vivid accounts of his experiences, differ- 
 ing in interest. He speaks of General Wadsworth, the grand- 
 father of our present United States senator, and sa)^ that the 
 general "helped to make my bed when I spent one night with 
 his division." 
 
 In an interim of work, on February 7, he writes of his invi- 
 tation to Mrs. Lincoln's ball, at which he says he had a delight- 
 ful time. 
 
 "Mrs. Lincoln in giving the Ball, stated that she gave it as 
 a piece of economy in war time, and included those diplo- 
 mats, senators, congressmen and others, that it had been pre- 
 viously the habit to invite at a number of formal dinners. No 
 one lower in the army than the Division General, — ^not even a 
 Brigadier, had an invitation to the Ball, and of course there 
 was much grumbling and a proportionate amoimt of envy. Some 
 complained of the supper, but I. have rarely seen a better, and 
 often a worse one. Terrapin, birds, ducks, and everything else 
 in great profusion when I was in the dining room, although some 
 complained of the delay in getting into the room, as we went 
 in parties. 
 
 "I spent all of yesterday kicking my heels in the ante-room 
 of the Secretary of War, and in making out an order for him 
 which he promised to sign and afterwards refused. [How his- 
 tory repeats itself!] I was with him about two hours, alto- 
 gether, and received any number of the highest kind of com- 
 pliments, but I wanted a more important proof of his good 
 feeling which I did not get. I still hope that I may get it 
 through the President." 
 
 On February 12, 1862, comes this description of the delight- 
 ful visit to Newport News and he says: 
 
 "All the officers received us in such a hospitable spirit and 
 the weather assisted in making our stay agreeable. I passed 
 two of the pleasantest days that I have enjoyed when away from 
 
26 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 home. General Mansfield suggested some practice with the 
 parrot gun, and one of those sad accidents occurred, for a gun 
 burst and two men were killed. 
 
 "We have been treated like princes here. The steamboat 
 was put at our disposal and when, through a misimderstanding, 
 it left before we were on board, another one was immediately 
 sent with us. I enclose several things to keep for me^" 
 
 Amongst the enclosures was a note which is sufficiently in- 
 teresting to give in facsimile. 
 
 executive mansion, washington 
 Mr. Rosevalt. 
 
 Dear Sir : 
 
 I very much regretted that a severe headache confined me 
 
 to my room on yesterday, this morning I find we are expected 
 
 to hold a noon reception which will be over by three and a half 
 
 o'clock at which time I will be very happy to have you 
 
 ride with us. ,j . , 
 
 Very truly yours 
 
 Mrs. a. Lincoln. 
 
 This quaint missive reminds me of the fact of my father's 
 kindly tolerance of "Mrs. A. Lincoln's" little peculiarities. I 
 remember how he used to tell us, when occasionally he was in- 
 vited, as this letter says, to "ride" with her, that he would also 
 be invited to stop at the shop where she bought her bonnets, 
 and give his advice on which bonnet was especially becoming ! 
 
 In an earlier letter, after referring to an interview with Secre- 
 tary Stanton, he speaks of his apparent decision of character. 
 But he was disappointed when he could not, in the beginning, 
 make the secretary take his point of view about the Allotment 
 Commission. Later, however, he received the full support of 
 Secretary Stanton. 
 
 In a letter dated February 5 he speaks of "justified plea- 
 sure" as follows: 
 
 "I find that only about six men under fifty [he himself 
 
€fmtiU Sanfiitnr, 
 
 fsO' 
 
 
 a^ 
 
 
 fi^eJ^ 
 
 ^A** 
 
 «*^%r^»«^ 
 
 ^ic«^ 'J^t^^ ^* 
 
 AN INVrrATlON FROM THE WIFE OF ABRAHAM LINCOLN TO 
 THEODORE ROOSEVELT, Sr. 
 
 27 
 
28 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 was only twenty-nine] are invited to the President's to-night, 
 and I have determined to go for a short time, at least. There 
 will be the largest collection of notables there ever gathered in 
 this country, and it would probably be a sight worth remember- 
 ing." 
 
 Under date of Washington, February 14, he writes again: 
 
 "I have so many acquaintances here now that I could easily 
 find a temporary companion. Hay [John Hay] is going with 
 me to Seward's to-night, and I am hoping to procure the pass 
 for your mother. [My grandmother was most anxious to get 
 back to her own people in the South]. In Baltimore I saw, 
 or fancied I saw, on the faces of our class of the inhabitants, 
 their feelings in consequence of the news just received of the 
 taking of Roanoke Island. They looked very blue. The sut- 
 lers here are serious obstacles in getting allotments. As soon 
 as w;e see a Regiment and persuade the men to make allotments, 
 they send aroimd an agent to dissuade them from signing their 
 names, convincing them that it is a swindle because they want 
 the money to be spent in Camp and go into their pockets in- 
 stead of being sent home to the poor families of the men, who 
 are in such want. 
 
 "I enclose you a flower from the bouquet on the table of 
 the Executive Mansion. Also a piece of silk from an old-fash- 
 ioned piano cover in Arlington House." 
 
 As I opened the letter, the flower fell to dust in my hands, 
 but the little piece of green silk, faded and worn, had evidently 
 been treasured by my mother as being a relic of Arlington House. 
 
 On February 27, 1862, his stay in Washington was drawing 
 to a close, and my father regretted, as so many have done, that 
 he had not kept a diary of his interesting experiences. He writes 
 on September 27: 
 
 "AU those whom I have seen here in Washington in social 
 intercourse day by day wiU be characters in history, and it would 
 be pleasant to look over a diary hereafter of my own impressions 
 of them, and recall their utterly dififerent views upon the policy 
 
The Nursery and Its Deities 29 
 
 whidi should be pursued by the Government. I have rarely 
 been able to leave my room in the evening, for it has been so 
 filled with visitors, but I have not felt the loss of liberty from the 
 fact that those who were my guests I would have taken a great 
 deal of trouble to see, and never could have seen so informally 
 and pleasantly anj^where except in my own room. 
 
 "It has, of course, been more my duty to entertain those 
 whose hospitality I was daily receiviag, in the camps, by invi- 
 tations to drop iu during the evening; all of these are striving 
 to make their marks as statesmen, and some, I am sure, we will 
 hear from hereafter." 
 
 On March i, 1862, he says: 
 
 We have all been in a state of excitement for some days 
 past, caused by movements in the Army foreshadowing a gen- 
 eral battle. The snow which is now falling fast, has cast a 
 damper over all our spirits. , . . Several of the Generals have 
 stated to me their belief that the war, as far as there was any 
 necessity for so large an army, would be closed by some time in 
 May,— probably the first of May. If so, my work will be all 
 over when I return to New York, and I can once more feel that 
 I have a wife and children, and enjoy them. 
 
 It is Sunday afternoon, and I have a peculiar longing to 
 see you all again, the quiet snow falling outside, my own feelings 
 being very sad and that of those aroimd being in the same con- 
 dition makes me turn to my own quiet fireside for comfort. I 
 wish we S3mipathized together on this question of so vital mo- 
 ment to our country, but I know you cannot understand my 
 feelings, and of course I do not expect it. 
 
 YoxjR Loving Husband Who Wants 
 
 Very Much to See You. 
 
 One can well imagine the note of sadness in the strong young 
 man who had relinquished his urgent desire to bear arms because 
 of the peculiar situation in which he found himself, but who 
 
30 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 gave all his time and thought and physical endurance to the 
 work vitally needed, and which he felt he could have handled 
 better with the sympathy of his young wife, whose anxiety 
 about her mother and brothers was so poignant and distress- 
 ing. Never, however, in the many letters exchanged between 
 the parents of my brother, Theodore Roosevelt, was there one 
 word which was calculated to make less possible the close family 
 love and the great respect for each other's feelings. 
 
 In the last letter quoted above, one feels again that history 
 does indeed repeat itself, when one thinks that it was written 
 in March, 1862, and that those "generals" of whom my father 
 speaks were expecting that no large army would be needed after 
 May I of that year, when in reality the long agony of civil 
 war was to rack our beloved country for nearly three years more. 
 This was proven shortly after to my father, and in the following 
 October he is writing again from Baltimore, and this time in a 
 less wistful mood: 
 
 Since I last wrote you I have enjoyed my pleasantest ex- 
 periences as Allotment Commissioner. The weather was lovely 
 our horses good and Major Dix accompanied us from the For- 
 tress to Yorktown. It was about twenty-five miles of historic 
 ground passing over the same coimtry that General McClellan 
 had taken his army along last spring. 
 
 First comes the ruins of the little town of Hampton, then 
 through Big Bethel where Schanck was whipped, to the ap- 
 proaches to Yorktown. There ravines have been cut through 
 miles of roads made, and immense breastworks thrown up by 
 our army. 
 
 Suydam was away but the rest of General Keyes' staff 
 received us most hospitably, and after dinner furnished us with 
 fresh horses to visit the regiments, one of their number accom- 
 pan3Tng us. 
 
 I had practise for both my French and German in the En- 
 fans Perdus, Colonel Comfort's regiment and it was quite late 
 
 I I 
 
The Nursery and Its Deities 31 
 
 before our return. As I had broken my eyeglasses I had to 
 trust entirely to my horse who jumped over the ditches in a 
 most independent manner. We all sat up together until about 
 twelve except Bronson who had seemed used up all day, and 
 had not accompanied me to the regiments. He seemed to feel 
 the shock of the fall when the car ran off the track, and not to 
 recover from it so easily as myself. 
 
 Next morning we rode another twenty-five miles to New- 
 port News to see the Irish Brigade. General Corcoran was 
 there, and accompanied us to the regiments first suggesting 
 Irish whiskey to strengthen us. At dinner ale was the beverage 
 and after diimer each Colonel seemed to have his own particular 
 tope. On our return they made an Irish drink called "seal thun" 
 and about one o'clock gave us "devilled bones." The servant 
 was invited in to sing for us and furnished with drinks at odd 
 times by the General, who never indulged, however, himself 
 to excess. We then went the grand rounds with the General 
 at two in the morning, arrested two officers for not being at their 
 posts and returned at half past three, well prepared to rest quietly 
 after a very fatiguing day, and one of the most thoroughly Irish 
 nights that I ever passed. 
 
 Next morning (yesterday) we had a delightful ride over 
 to Fortress Monroe, and had limch at General Dix's before leav- 
 ing in the boat. 
 
 A dozen of the officers were down at the boat, and we felt 
 as we bid goodbye to some of them, like leaving old friends. . . . 
 
 Dearest: a few words more and I must close. Bronson has 
 a very bad cold and decides that he will leave me to-morrow. 
 If well enough he will undoubtedly call on you. Of course this 
 makes me doubly homesick but I must see it through. 
 Goodbye. Yours as ever, 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt. 
 
 Again on October 18, having apparently been able to return 
 for a brief visit to his family, he writes from Niagara: 
 
32 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 "I was able to get a top berth and retired for the 31st time 
 in two months to spend the night on the raihoad. My three 
 nights at home have made it hard, rather than easier, to con- 
 tinue my journeys. 
 
 "All our party started from Albany to Fonda, and I had 
 a hard day's work for the men had been deceived by the bounty 
 and were suspicious about everything regarding the Allotment 
 Commission. The officers' dinner was a good deal like pigs 
 eating at a trough. When at night three companies had not 
 yet been visited, I determined to do it wholesale. I had two 
 tents pitched and occupied one already prepared, placing a 
 table, candles and allotment roll in each. I then had the three 
 companies formed into three sides of a square and used all my 
 eloquence. When I had finished they cheered me vociferously. 
 I told them I would be better able to judge who meant the cheers 
 by seeing which company made most allotments. [This sen- 
 tence of my father's makes me think so much of my brother's 
 familiar "shoot; don't shout !" when he would receive vociferous 
 cheers for any advice given.] I thus raised the spirit of com- 
 petition and those really were the best that I had taken during 
 the day. By eight o'clock we found our work done, dark as 
 pitch, and rain descending in torrents, but still the work was 
 done." 
 
 These letters give, I think, a vivid picture of my father's 
 persistence and determined character, and the quality of "getting 
 there," which was so manifestly the quality of his son as well, 
 and at the same time the power of enjoyment, the natural af- 
 filiation with his humankind, and always the thoughtfulness 
 and consideration for his yoimg wife left with her little charges 
 at home. 
 
 In that same home the spirit of the war permeated through 
 the barriers of love raised around the little children of the nurs- 
 ery, and my aunt writes of the attitude of the small, yeUow- 
 haired boy into whose childish years came also the distant din 
 of battle, arousing in him the military spirit which even at four 
 
Pi 
 
 & 
 
 u 
 
 p^'^ 
 
The Nursery and Its Deities 33 
 
 years of age had to take some expression. She says: "Yester- 
 day Teedie was really excited when I said to him that I must 
 fit his zouave suit. His little face flushed up and he said, 'Are 
 me a soldier laddie too?' and when I took his suggestion and 
 said, 'Yes and I am the Captain,' he was willing to stand for a 
 moment or two to be fitted." Even then Theodore Roosevelt 
 responded to his coimtry's call, and equally to the discipline of 
 the superior officer ! 
 
n 
 
 GREEN FIELDS AND FOREIGN FARING 
 
 FROM the nursery in 20th Street my early memories turn 
 with even greater happiness to the country place which 
 my parents rented at Madison, N. J., called Loantaka, 
 where we spent several summers. There the joy of a sorrel 
 Shetland pony became ours — (Pony Grant was his name) — a 
 patriotic effort to conunemorate the name of the great general, 
 still on the lips of every one, whose indomitable will and mili- 
 tary acumen had at that very moment been the chief factor in 
 bringing the Civil War to a close. I, however, labored under 
 the delusion that he, the general, was named after the pony, 
 which seemed to me at the time much the more important of 
 the two personalities. The four-legged Grant was quite as de- 
 termined and aggressive as his two-legged namesake, and he 
 never allowed any of us to be his master. When my father 
 first had him brought to the front door of the country home at 
 Madison, I shall never forget the thrill of excitement in the 
 breasts of the three little children of the nursery. "Who will 
 jiunp on his back?" called out my father gaily. 
 
 It has always been the pride of my life that, although I was 
 only about four years old, I begged for the privilege before the 
 "boys" were quite ready to decide whether to dare the ferocious 
 glance in his dark eyes. Owing to my temerity he was presented 
 to me, and from that time on was only a loan to my brothers. 
 Each in turn, however, we would climb on his back, and each 
 in turn would be repeatedly thrown over his head, but having 
 shown his ability to eject, he would then, satisfied by thus prov- 
 ing his siiperiority, become gentle as a really gentle lamb. I 
 
 34 
 
Green Fields and Foreign Faring 35 
 
 qualify my reference to lambs, remembering well the singularly 
 ungentle lamb which later became a pet also in the family. 
 
 In those country days before the advent of the motor, the 
 woods and lanes of New Jersey were safe haimts for happy 
 childhood, and we were given much liberty, and, accompanied 
 by our two little cousins from Savannah, John and Maud Elliott, 
 who spent those two smnmers with us, having suffered greatly 
 from the devastating war, we roamed at will, leading or riding 
 our pony, playing endless games, or making believe we were 
 Indians — always responsive to some story of Theodore's which 
 seemed to cast a glamour aroimd our environment. 
 
 I can still feel the somewhat uncanny thrill with which I 
 received the suggestion that a large reddish stain on a rock in 
 the woods near by was the blood of a white girl, lately killed 
 by the chief of the Indian tribe, to which through many mys- 
 terious rites we were supposed to belong. I remember enticing 
 there in the twilight our very Hibernian kitchen-maid, and 
 taking delight in her shrieks of terror at the sight of the so-called 
 blood. 
 
 My brother always felt in later years, and carried the feel- 
 ing into practice with his own children, that liberty in the sum- 
 mer-time, for a certain period at least, stimulated greatly the 
 imagination of a child. To rove unhampered, to people the 
 surroimdings with one's own creations, to watch the habits of 
 the feathered or furry creatures, and insensibly to react to the 
 beauty of wood and wind and water — ^all this leaves an indelible 
 impression on the malleable nature of a young child, and we 
 five happy cousins, in spite of Theodore's constant delicacy^ were 
 allowed this wonderful freedom to assimilate what nature had 
 to give. 
 
 I never once remember that we came to the "grown people" 
 with that often-heard question " What shall we do next ? " The 
 days never seemed long enough, the hours flew on golden wings. 
 Often there would be days of suffering for my brother, even in 
 the soft summer weather, but not as acute as in the winter-time, 
 
36 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 and though my father or my aunt frequently had to take Theo- 
 dore for diange of air to one place or another, and rarely, even 
 at his best, could he sleep without being propped up in bed or 
 in a big chair, still his spirit was so strong and so recuperative 
 that when I think of my earliest country memories, he seems 
 always there, leading, suggestiag, explaining, as all through my 
 life when the nursery was a thing of the past and the New Jersey 
 woodlands a faint though fair green memory, he was always 
 beside me, leading, suggesting, explaining still. 
 
 It was in those very woodlands that his more accurate in- 
 terest in natural history began. We others — ^normal and not 
 particularly intelligent little children — ^joyed in the delights of 
 the country, in our games and our liberty, but he was not only 
 a leader for us in everything, but he also led a life apart from 
 us, seriously studying the birds, their habits and their notes, 
 so that years afterward the result of those long hours of childish 
 concentration took form in his expert knowledge of bird life 
 and lore — so expert a knowledge that even Mr. John Burroughs, 
 the great nature specialist, conceded Tiim equality of informa- 
 tion with himself along those lines. 
 
 It was at Lowantaka, at the breakfast-table one day, after 
 my father had taken the train to New York — this was the second 
 year of our domicile there, and the sad war was over — that my 
 mother received a peculiar-looking letter. I remember her 
 face of puzzled interest as she opened it and the flush that came 
 to her cheek as she turned to my aunt and said: "Oh, Anna, 
 this must be from Irvine !" and read aloud what would now seem 
 Uke a "personal" on a page of the New York Herald. It was 
 as follows: 
 
 "If Mrs. Theodore Roosevelt and Miss Anna Bulloch will 
 walk ia Central Park up the Mall, at 3 o'clock on Thursday 
 afternoon of this week [it was then Tuesday] and notice a young 
 man standing under the third tree on the left with a red hand- 
 kerchief tied around his throat, it will be of interest to them." 
 
 As my mother finished reading the letter she burst into tears. 
 
Green Fields and Foreign Faring 37 
 
 for it was long since the younger brother had been heard from, 
 as the amnesty granted to all those taking part in the Rebellion 
 had not been extended to those who had gone to England, as 
 had my two uncles, to assist in the building and the saiUng of 
 the Alabama, and letters from them were considered too dan- 
 gerous to be received. 
 
 This "Irvine" had been saved when the Alabama sank, after 
 her brief career, and the two brothers had settled in Liverpool, 
 and my mother knowing the great sorrow that his mother's death 
 had meant to this younger brother, had always longed during 
 the intervening months to see him and tell him of that mother's 
 und3ring devotion, though she herself had passed away the year 
 before. 
 
 It seemed now to the active imaginations of the Southern 
 sisters that somehow or other Irvine had braved the authori- 
 ties, and would be able to see them and hear from their lips the 
 story of the past five years. 
 
 One can well imagine the excitement of the children around 
 the breakfast-table at the romantic meeting suggested by the 
 anonymous letter. And so, on the following Thursday, the 
 two sisters went in to New York and walked up the Mall in Cen- 
 tral Park, and there, standing under the third tree to the left, 
 was the young man — a thin, haggard-looking young man com- 
 pared to the round-faced boy with whom they had parted so 
 long ago, but eagerly waiting to get from them the last news 
 of the mother who had hoped she would die before any harm 
 could befall him. He had worked his way over in the steerage 
 of a sailing-vessel under an assumed name, for he was afraid 
 of bringing some trouble on my father, and had taken the 
 method of the anonymous letter to bring to him the sisters he 
 had loved and missed so sorely. 
 
 What a meeting it must have been under that "third tree 
 to the left" of the old Mall of Central Park, and what reminis- 
 cences of happier childhood days those tiiree must have indulged 
 in in the brief hour which the brother could give his sisters be- 
 
38 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 fore sailing back across the broad ocean, for he did not dare meet 
 them again for fear of some unpleasant results for the Northern 
 brother-in-law, for whom he had great admiration. 
 
 Later, of course, my uncles were given the right to return 
 to their own country, but although they often visited us, they 
 never settled va. America again, having rooted their business 
 interests on English soil, though their hearts always turned 
 loyally to the country of their birth. 
 
 In taking into consideration the immediate forebears of my 
 brother, Theodore Roosevelt, I would once more repeat that 
 to arrive at a true comprehension of his many-sided character 
 one must realize the combination of personalities and the dif- 
 ferent strains of blood ia those personalities from whom he was 
 descended in summing up the man he was. 
 
 The stability and wisdom of the old Dutch blood, the gaiety 
 and abandon of the Irish strain that came through the female 
 side of his father's people, and on his mother's side the great 
 loyalty of the Scotch and the fiery self-devotion of the French 
 Huguenot martyrs, mixed as it was with the light touch which 
 shows in French blood of whatever strain — all this combined 
 to make of the boy bom of so varied an ancestry one who was 
 akin to all human nature. 
 
 In April, 1868, the little boy of nine and a half shows him- 
 self, indeed, as father to the man in several characteristic letters 
 which I insert here. They were written to his mother and 
 father and the little sister Conie when the above members of the 
 family were paying a visit to Savannah, and are as follows: 
 
 .., -, ,, New York AprU 28th, 1868. 
 
 My Dear Mamsca ^ ' 
 
 I have just received your letter! What an excitement! 
 
 How nice to read it. What long letters you do write. I don't 
 
 see how you can write them. My mouth opened wide with 
 
 astonishment when I heard how many flowers were sent in to 
 
 you. I could revel in the buggie ones. I jumped with delight 
 
Green Fields and Foreign Faring 39 
 
 when I found you had heard a mocking-bird. Get some of its 
 feathers if you can. Thank Johnny for the feathers of the sol- 
 dier's cap, give him my love also. We cried when you wrote 
 about Grand-Mamma. Give My love, to the good natured (to 
 use your own expresion) handsome lion, Conie, Johnny, Maud, 
 and Aunt Lucy. I am sorry the trees have been cut down. Aunt 
 Annie, Edith and Ellie send their love to you and all, I send mine 
 to. I send this picture to Conie. In the letters you write to 
 me tell me how many curiosities and living things you have got 
 for me. I miss Conie very much. I wish I were with you and 
 Johnny for I could hunt for myself. There is Conie's letter. 
 
 My Dear Conie: 
 
 As I wrote so much in Mamma's letter I cannot write so 
 much in yours. I have got four mice, two white skined, red 
 eyed velvety creatures, very tame for I let them run all over 
 me, they trie to get down the back of my neck and under my 
 vest, and two brown skined, black eyed, soft as the others but 
 wilder. Lordy and Rosa are the names of the white mice, which 
 are male and female. I keep them in different cages 
 White mouse cage. brown mouse cage. 
 
 
40 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 My Dear Papa 
 
 You can all read each other's letters. I hear you were very 
 seasick on your voyage and that Dora and Conie were seasick 
 before you passed Sandy-hook. Give my greatest love to 
 Johnny. You must write too. Wont you drive Mamma to 
 some battle field for she is going to get me some trophies? I 
 would Uke to have them so very much. I wiU have to stop now 
 because Aunty wants me to learn my lessons. 
 
 The chaffinch is for you. The wren for Mamma. The cat 
 
 for Conie. ,,. i • i 
 
 Yours lovmgly, 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt. 
 P. S. I liked your peas so much that I ate half of them. 
 
 My Dear Father ^ew York, April 30th, 1868. 
 
 I received your letter yesterday. Your letter was more 
 exciting than Mother's. I have a request to ask of you, will 
 you do it? I hope you will, if you will it will figure greatly in 
 my museum. You know what supple jacks are, do you not? 
 Please get one for Ellie and two for me. Ask your friend to let 
 you cut off the tiger-cat's tail, and get some long moos and have 
 it mated together. One of the supple jacks (I am talking of 
 mine now) must be about as thick as your thumb and finger. 
 The other must be as thick as your thumb. The one which is 
 as thick as your finger and thumb must be four feet long and 
 the other must be three feet long. One of my mice got crushed. 
 It was the mouse I liked best though it was a common mouse. 
 Its name was Brownie. Nothing particular has happened since 
 you went away for I cannot go out in the country like you can. 
 The trees and the vine on our piazza are buding and the grass 
 is green as can be, and no one would dream that it was winter 
 so short a time ago. AU send love to all of you. 
 Yours lovingly, 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt. 
 
Green Fields and Foreign Faring 41 
 
 The "excitement" referred to in the first letter was the won- 
 derful reception accorded to my mother on her return to the 
 city of her girlhood days. Her rooms in the hotel in Savannah 
 were filled by her friends with flowers — ^and how she loved flowers 
 — ^but not the "buggie ones" in which her young naturalist son 
 says he would "revel !" 
 
 One can see the ardent little bird-lover as he wrote "I jumped 
 with delight when I found you had heard a mocking-bird," and 
 again when he says "Tell me how many curiosities and living 
 things you have got for me." Insatiable lover of knowledge 
 as he was, it was difficult indeed for his parents to keep pace 
 with his thirst for "outward and visible signs of the things that 
 be." 
 
 More than fifty years have passed since the painstaking pen- 
 ning of the childish letters, but the heart of his sister in reading 
 them thrills hotly at the thought that the little " Conie" of those 
 days was "very much" missed by her idolized brother, and how 
 she treasured the letter written all for her, with the pictures 
 of the cages in which he kept his beloved mice! It was sad 
 that the pictures of the chaffinch, wren, and cat, evidently en- 
 closed for each of the travellers, should have been lost. In the 
 two letters to his father he enlists that comrade-father's services 
 for his adored "museiun" by the plea for "trophies from some 
 battle field," and the urgent request for the "supple jack," the 
 nature of which exciting article I confess I do not understand. 
 I do understand, however, his characteristic distress that "one 
 of my mice got crushed. It was the mouse I liked best though 
 it was a common mouse." That last sentence brought the tears 
 to my eyes. How true to type it was! the "common mouse" 
 was the one he liked best of all — never the rare, exotic thing, 
 but the every-day, the plain, the simple, and he probably liked 
 it so much just because that little "common mouse" had shown 
 courage and vitality and affection ! All through Theodore Roose- 
 velt's life it was to the plain simple things and to the plain simple 
 people that he gave his most loyal devotion. 
 
42 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 In May, 1869, because of a great desire on the part of my 
 mother to visit her brothers in England, as well as to see the 
 Old World of which she had read and studied so much, she per- 
 suaded my father to take the whole family abroad. 
 
 After those early summers at Madison, which still stand out 
 so clearly in my memory, there comes a less vivid recollection 
 of months passed at the beautiful old place at Barrytown, on 
 the Hudson River, which my parents rented from Mr. John 
 Aspinwall, and where a wonderful rushing brook played a big 
 part in the jo)^ of our holiday months. 
 
 We "younger ones" longed for another simimer at this 
 charming spot and regretted, with a certain amount of suspiddn, 
 the decision of the " Olympians" to drag us from our leafy haunts 
 to improve our rebellious young minds, but my parents were 
 firm in their decision, and we started on the old paddle-wheel 
 steamship Scotia, as I have said, in May, 1869. 
 , In a letter from my mother to my aunt, who had married 
 Mr. James King Grade, and was therefore regretfully left h&- 
 hindj she described with an easy pen some incidents of the voy- 
 age across the ocean, as follows: 
 
 "Elliott is the leader of children's sports and plays with the 
 little Winthrop children all day. A short while ago Thee made 
 up his mind suddenly that Teedie must play too, so hunted 
 up the little fellow who was deeply enjoying a conversation with 
 the only acquaintance he has made, a little man, whom we call 
 the 'one too many man,' for he seems to go about with no ac- 
 quaintances. His name is Mr. St. John and he is a quaint little 
 well of knowledge, — very fond of natural history and fills 
 Teedie's heart with delight. Teedie brought him up and 
 introduced him to me, his eyes dancing with delight and he con- 
 stantly asks me, 'Mamma, have you really conversed with Mr. 
 St. John?' I feel so tenderly to Teedie, that I actually stopped 
 reading the 'Heir of Redcliffe,' and talked to the poor little man 
 who has heart complaint so badly that his voice is even affected 
 by it. 
 
Green Fields and Foreign Faring 43 
 
 "The two little boys were pretty seasick on Sunday and 
 I do not know what I should have done without Robert, the 
 bedroom steward, and an amiable deck steward, who waits on 
 those who remain on deck at meals. He seems a wonderfully 
 constructed creature, having amiable knobs all over his body, 
 upon which he supports more bowls of soup and plates of eat- 
 ables than you can imagine, all of which he serves out, panting 
 over you while you take your plate, with such wide extended 
 nostrils that they take in the Irish coast, and the draught from 
 them cools the soup ! 
 
 "Anna, — the carpet in my stateroom is filled with organic 
 matter which, if distilled, would make a kind of anchovy paste, 
 only fit to be the appetizer before the famous 'witches' broth,' 
 the receipt for which Shakespeare gives in "Macbeth," — but on 
 the whole the Scotia is well ordered and cleaner than I had ex- 
 pected. 
 
 "On Sunday morning Thee was sick and while in bed, little 
 Gonie came into the room. He looked down from his upper 
 berth, looking like a straw-colored Cockatoo, but Conie stopped 
 in the middle of what she was saying and said, 'Oh Papa ! you 
 have such a lovely little curl on your forehead' with a note of 
 great admiration in her voice and meaning it all, really, but her 
 position looking up, and his looking down reminded me forcibly 
 of the picture of the flattered crow who dropped his cheese when 
 the fox complimented him !" 
 
 This letter, perhaps, more than almost any other, gives the 
 quaint humor and also the tenderness of my mother's attitude 
 toward her children and husband. 
 
 On our arrival in Liverpool we were greeted by the Bulloch 
 uncles, and from that time on the whole European trip was 
 one of interest and delight to the "grown people." My older 
 sister, though not quite fifteen, was so unusually mature and 
 intelligent tibat she shared their enjoyment, but the journey 
 was of rather mitigated pleasure to the three "little ones," who 
 much preferred the nursery at 28th East 20th Street, or their 
 
44 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 free summer activities in wood and field, to the picture-galleries 
 and museums, or even to the wonderful Swiss mountains where 
 they had to be so carefully guarded. 
 
 In the letters written faithfully to our beloved aunt, the 
 note of homesickness is always apparent. 
 
 Our principal delight was in what we used to call "explor- 
 ing" when we first arrived at a hotel, and in the occasional inter- 
 course with children of our own age, or, as in Teedie's case, 
 with some expert along the line of his own interests, but the 
 writing and receiving of home letters stand out more strongly 
 than almost any other memory of this time, and amongst those 
 most treasured by Teedie and myself were the little missives 
 written by our most intimate friend, Edith Kermit Carow, a 
 little girl who was to have, in later days, the most potent in- 
 fluence of all over the life of Theodore Roosevelt. How. Uttle 
 she thought when she wrote to her friend "Conie" from Red- 
 bank, November 19, 1869, "I was much pleased at receiving 
 your kind letter telling me all about Teedie's birthday," that 
 one day that very Teedie would be President Theodore Roose- 
 velt and Edith Kermit Carow the mistress of the White House. 
 
 The old friendship of our parents for Mr. and Mrs. Carow, 
 who lived with Mr. Carow's older sister, Mrs. Robert Kermit, 
 in a large house backing up against the 14th Street mansion of 
 Mr. and Mrs. Cornelius Van Schaack Roosevelt, was the natural 
 factor in the relationship of the younger generation, and little 
 Edith Carow and little Corinne Roosevelt were pledged friends 
 from the time of their birth. 
 
 The "Teedie" of those days expressed always a homesick 
 feeling when "Edie's" letters came. They seemed to fill him 
 with a strong longing for his native land! 
 
 In the little note written on yeUow, very minute writing- 
 paper, headed by a satisfied-looking cat, "Edie" expresses the 
 wish that "Teedie" could have been with her on a late picnic, 
 and "Teedie," I am equally sure, wished for her presence at his 
 eleventh-birthday festivities, which were described by my sister 
 
Green Fields and Foreign Faring 45 
 
 Anna in a letter to our aunt, Mrs. Jamfes King Grade. I quote 
 a few lines from that letter, for again its contents show the beau- 
 tiful devotion of my father and mother and sister to the delicate 
 little boy — the devotion which always put their own wishes or 
 arrangements aside when the terrible attacks of asthma came, 
 for those attacks seemed to make them feel that no plan was 
 too definite or important to change at once should "Teedie's" 
 health require it. My sister writes, the letter being dated from 
 Brussels, October 30, 1869: 
 
 "Last Thursday was dear little Teedie's birthday; he was 
 eleven years old. We all determined to lay ourselves out on 
 that occasion, for we all feared that he would be homesick, — for 
 he is a great Uttle home-boy. It passed off very nicely indeed. 
 We had to leave Berlin suddenly the night before, for 'Teedie' 
 was not very well; so we left Berlin on Wednesday night at 
 eight o'clock and arrived at Cologne on Thursday morning about 
 nine. You can imagine it was a very long trip for the three 
 little children, although they really bore it better than we three 
 older ones. [She one of the older ones at fourteen and a half!] 
 It was a bitterly cold night and snowed almost all the time. 
 Think of a snow storm on the night of the 27th of October ! Tee- 
 die was delighted at having had a snow storm on his birthday 
 morning, for he had never had that before. When we reached 
 Cologne we went to the same hotel, and had the same nice rooms 
 which we had had on our former stay there, and that of course 
 made us feel very much more at home. Teedie ordered the 
 breakfast, and they all had 'real tea' as a very great treat, and 
 then Teedie ordered the dinner, at which we were all requested 
 to appear in full dress; so Mamma came in her beautiful white 
 silk dinner dress, and Papa in dress coat and light kid gloves. 
 I was very cold, so only wore silk. After Teedie's dinner Papa 
 brought in all his presents. They, Mamma and Papa, gave 
 each of the three, writing desks marked with their names and 
 filled with all the conveniences. Then Teedie received a num- 
 ber of smaller presents as well." 
 
46 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 What parents, indeed, so fully to understand the romantic 
 feeling of the little boy about his birthday dinner, that they 
 were more than willing to don their most beautiful habiliments, 
 and appear as they had so lately appeared when received at 
 the Vienna Court! Such yielding to what by many people 
 might have been considered as too childish a whim to be coun- 
 tenanced shows with special deamess the quality in my father 
 and mother which inspired in us aU such undying adoration. 
 Another letter — ^not written by my older sister, but in the pains- 
 taking handwriting of a little girl of seven— describes my own 
 party the month before. We were evidently sta3Tng in Vienna 
 at the time, for I say: "We went to Schonbrunn, a 'shatto.' " 
 (More frequently known as a ch3,teau, but quite as th rillin g to 
 my childish mind spelled in my own unique manner !) And there 
 in the lovely groimds my mother had arranged a charming al 
 fresco supper for the little homesick American girl, and just 
 as the "grown people" were in "full dress" for "Teedie's" birth- 
 day, so they gave themselves np in the groimds of the great 
 "shatto" to making merry for the Uttle seven-year-old girl. 
 
 After the great excitements of the birthdays came our interest- 
 ing sojourn in Rome. In spite of my mother's efforts to arouse 
 a somewhat abortive interest in art in the hearts of the three 
 little children, my principal recollections of the Rome of 1869 
 are from the standpoint of the splendid romps on the Pincian 
 Hill. In those contests of running and racing and leaping my 
 brother Elliott was always the leader, although "Teedie" did 
 his part whenever his health permitted. One scene stands out 
 clearly in my mind. It was a beautiful day, one of those sunny 
 Italian days when ilex and olive shone with a special glistening 
 quality, and when the "Eternal City" as viewed from the high 
 hiU awoke even in the hearts of the little Philistine foreigners 
 a subconscious thriU which they themselves did not quite imder- 
 stand. We were playing with the Lawrence children, playing 
 leap-frog (how inappropriate to the Piucian Hill !) over the many 
 posts, when suddenly there came a stir — an imexpected excite- 
 
Green Fields and Foreign Faring 47 
 
 ment seemed everywhere. Word was passed that the Pope 
 was coming. "Teedie" whispered to the Kttle group of Amer- 
 ican children that he didn't believe in popes — that no real Amer- 
 ican would; and we all felt it was due to the stars and stripes 
 that we should share his attitude of distant disapproval. But 
 then, as is often the case, the miracle happened, for the crowd 
 parted, and to our excited, childish eyes something very much 
 like a scene in a story-book took place. The Pope, who was in 
 his sedan-chair carried by bearers in beautiful costumes, his be- 
 nign face framed in white hair and the close cap which he wore, 
 caught sight of the group of eager little children craning their 
 necks to see him pass; and he smiled and put out one fragile, 
 delicate hand toward us, and, lo ! the late scoffer who, in spite of 
 the ardent Americanism that burned in his eleven-year-old soul, 
 had as much reverence as militant patriotism in his nature, fell 
 upon his knees and kissed the delicate hand, which for a brief 
 moment was laid upon his fair curling hair. Whenever I think 
 of Rome this memory comes back to me, and in a way it was so 
 true to the character of my brother. The Pope to him had al- 
 ways meant what later he would have called "unwarranted 
 superstition," but that Pope, Pio Nono, the kindly, benign old 
 man, the moment he appeared in the flesh brought about in my 
 brother's heart the reaction which always came when the pure, 
 the good, or the true crossed his path. 
 
 Amongst my mother's efforts to interest us in art there was 
 one morning when she decided positively that her little girl, 
 at least, should do something more in keeping with the "Eternal 
 City" than playing leap-frog on the Pincian Hill, and so, a re- 
 luctant captive, I was borne away to the Vatican Galleries, and 
 was there initiated into the beauties of some of the frescos and 
 sculpture. My mother, who I have already said was a natural 
 connoisseur in all art, had especial admiration for that wonder- 
 ful piece of sculpture from the hand of Michael Angelo known 
 as "The Torso of the Vatican." This work of art stood alone 
 in a small room, so that nothing else should take away from its 
 
48 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 effect. As those who know it well need hardly be told, it lacks 
 both arms and both legs, and to the Uttle girl who was summarily 
 placed by her mother in the only chair in the small room, it 
 seemed a very strange creation. But, with the hope of arousing 
 artistic instinct, my lovely mother said: "Now, darling, this 
 is one of the greatest works of art in the world, and I am going 
 to leave you here alone for five minutes, because I want you 
 to sit very quietly and look at it, and perhaps when I come back 
 in the five minutes you will be able to realize how beautiful it 
 is." And then I saw my mother's slender figure vanish into 
 another room. Having been always accustomed to obey my 
 parents, I virtuously and steadily kept my eyes upon the leg- 
 less, armless Torso, wondering how any one could think it a beau- 
 tifid work of art; and when my mother, true to her words, re- 
 turning in five minutes with an expectant look on her face, said, 
 "Now, darling, what do you think of the great ' Torso ' ? " I re- 
 plied sadly, "Well, mamma, it seems to me a little 'chumpy' ! " 
 How often later in life I have heard my mother laugh immod- 
 erately as she described her effort to instil her own love of those 
 wonderful shoulders and that massive back into her recalcitrant 
 small daughter; and when, years after, I myself, imbued as she 
 was with a passion for Italy and Italian art, used to wander 
 through those same galleries, I could never go into that little 
 room without the memory of the small girl of long ago, and 
 her effort to think Michael Angelo's "Torso" anything but 
 "chumpy." 
 
 Christmas in Rome was made for us as much like our won- 
 derful Christmases at home as was possible in a foreign hotel. 
 It had always been our custom to go to our parents' room at 
 the pleasant hour of 6 A. M., and generally my mother had 
 induced my long-suffering father to be dressed in some special 
 and marvellous manner at that early hour when we "undid" 
 the bulging, mysterious-looking stockings, and none of these 
 exciting rites were omitted because of our distance from our 
 native land. I think, for that reason, at the end of the beautiful 
 Christmas Day, 1869, the special joy in the hearts of the three 
 
Green Fields and Foreign Faring 49 
 
 little American children was that they had actually forgotten 
 that they were in Rome at all ! On January 2, "Teedie" him- 
 self writes to his beloved Aunt Annie (Mrs. Grade) on a piece 
 of note-paper which characteristically has at the top a bird on 
 a bough — that paper being his choice for the writing-desks which 
 had been given to the three children on his birthday: "Will you 
 send the enclosed to Eidith Carow. In it I described our ascent 
 of Vesuvius, and so I will describe Pompeii to you." In a rather 
 cramped hand he enters then into an accurate description of 
 everything connected with Pompeii, gloating with scientific 
 delight over the seventeen skeletons found in the Street of the 
 Tombs, but falling for one moment into a lighter vein, he tells 
 of two little Italian boys whom my father had engaged to come 
 and sing for us the same evening at Sorrento, and whose faces 
 were so dirty that my father and his friend Mr. Stevens washed 
 them with "Kissengin Water." That extravagance seems to 
 have been specially entertaining to the mind of the young letter- 
 writer. 
 
 During the year abroad there were lovely times when we 
 were not obliged to think of sculpture or painting — ^weeks in 
 the great Swiss mountains when, in spite of frequent attacks 
 of his old enemy, my father writes that "Teedie" walked many 
 miles and showed the pluck and perseverance which were so 
 strikingly part of his character. In another letter he is described, 
 while suffering from a peculiarly severe attack of asthma, as 
 being propped up all night in a big chair in the sitting-room, 
 while his devoted mother told him stories of "when she was a 
 little ^1" at the old plantation at Roswell; and yet within two 
 days of that very time he is following my father and brother on 
 one of the longest walks they took in the mountains. All through 
 the letters of that period one realizes the developing character 
 of the suffering little boy. My mother writes in a letter to her 
 sister: "Teedie and Ellie have walked to-day thirteen miles, 
 and are very proud of their performance. Indeed Teedie has 
 been further several times." 
 
 And so the year of exile had its joyous memories, but in spite 
 
50 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 of them never were there happier children than those who ar- 
 rived home in America in the spring of 1870. 
 
 Earlier in our lives my father, always t hi n k i n g of the problem 
 of the fragile health of his two older children, conceived the idea 
 of turning the third room of the second story at 28 East 20th 
 Street into an out-of-doors piazza, a kind of open-air gymnasium, 
 with every imaginable swing and bar and seesaw, and my mother 
 has often told me how he called the boy to him one day— Theo- 
 dore was now about eleven years of age — and said: "Theodore, 
 you have the mind but you have not the body, and without the 
 help of the body the mind cannot go as far as it should. You 
 must make your body. It is hard drudgery to make one's body, 
 but I know you will do it." The little boy looked up, throwing 
 back his head in a characteristic fashion; then with a flash of 
 those white teeth which later m. life became so well known that 
 when he was police commissioner the story ran that any recreant 
 policeman would faint if he suddenly came face to face with a 
 set of false teeth in a shop-window — ^he said, "I'll make my 
 body." 
 
 That was his first important promise to himself and the deli- 
 cate little boy began his work; and for many years one of my 
 most vivid recollections is seeing him between horizontal bars, 
 widening his chest by regular, monotonous motion — drudgery 
 indeed — ^but a drudgery which eventuated in his being not only 
 the apostle but the exponent of the strenuous life. 
 
 What fxm we had on that piazza ! The first Theodore Roose- 
 velt, Uke his son, was far ahead of his times, and fresh air was 
 his hobby, and he knew that the children who will cry if they are 
 made to take dull walks on dreary city streets, will romp with 
 dangerous delight ungovemessed and unmaided in an outdoor 
 gymnasium. I use the word "dangerous" advisedly, for one 
 day my lovely and delicate mother had an unforgetable shock 
 on that same piazza. She happened to look out of the window 
 opening on to the piazza and saw two boys — one of whom, need- 
 less to say, was Theodore — carefully balancing the seesaw from 
 
Green Fields and Foreign Faring 51 
 
 the high rail which protected the children from the possibility 
 of falling into the back yard, two stories below. Having wearied 
 of the usual play, the aforesaid two boys thought they would 
 add a tinge of excitement to the merriment by balancing the 
 seesaw in such a manner as to have one boy always in the thrill- 
 ing position of hanging on the farther side of the top rail, with 
 the possibility (unless the equilibriimi were kept to perfection) 
 of seesaw, boys, and all descending xmexpectedly into the back 
 yard. 
 
 One may well imagine the horror of the mother as she saw 
 her adventurous offspring crawling out beyond the projection 
 of the railing, and only great self-control enabled her to reach 
 the wooden board held lightly by the fingers of an equally crim- 
 inal cousin, and by an agonized clutch make it impossible for 
 the seesaw to slide down with its two foolhardy riders. 
 
 Needless to say, no such feat was ever performed again, but 
 the piazza became the happy meeting-ground of aU the boys 
 and girls of the neighborhood, and there not only Theodore 
 Roosevelt but many of his friends and family put in a stock 
 of sturdy health which was to do them good service in later years. 
 At the same time the children of that house were leading the 
 normal lives of other little children, except for the individual 
 industry of the more delicate one, who put his hours of neces- 
 sary quiet into voracious reading of history, and study of natural 
 history. 
 
 Again the summers were the special delight of our lives, and 
 the following several summers we spent on the Hudson River, 
 at or near Riverdale, where warm friendships were formed with 
 the children of our parents' friends, Mr. and Mrs. William E. 
 Dodge, Mr. and Mrs. Percy R. Pyne, Mr. and Mrs. Oliver Harri- 
 man, and Mr. Robert Colgate. 
 
 Groups of joyous children invented and carried into effect 
 every imaginable game, and, as ever, our father was the delight- 
 ful collaborator in every scheme of pleasure. There began Theo- 
 dore's more active collection of birds and animals. There he 
 
52 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 advertised for families of field-mice, and the influx of the all-too- 
 prolific little animals was terrifying to the heart of so perfect 
 a housekeeper as my mother. The horror produced by the dis- 
 covery of several of the above-named families in the refrigerator 
 was more than tr3dng to the nerves of one less devoted to science. 
 My sister Anna, the most imselfish of older sisters, was the chief 
 sufferer always, as, in spite of her extreme youth — for she was 
 only four years older than my brother — ^her unusual ability and 
 maturity made her seem more like a second mother than a 
 sister. On one special occasion Theodore, having advertised 
 and offered the large sum of ten cents for every field-mouse and 
 thirty-five cents for a family, left for a trip to the Berkshire 
 hills, and my poor sister was inundated by hundreds of active 
 and unattractive families of field-mice, while clamoring country 
 people demanded their ten-cent pieces or the larger sum irrele- 
 vantly offered by the absentee young naturalist. In the same 
 imselfish manner my sister was the imwilling recipient of families 
 of young squirrels, guinea-pigs, etc., and I can see her still bring- 
 ing up one especially delicate family of squirrels on the bottie, 
 and also begging a laundress not to forsake the household be- 
 cause turtles were tied to her tubs ! 
 
 Those summers on the Hudson River stand out as peculiarly 
 happy days. As I have said before, we were allowed great free- 
 dom, although never license, in the summer-time, and situated 
 as we then were, with a group of little friends about us, the long 
 sweet days passed like a joyous dream. 
 
 Doctor Hilbome West, the husband of my mother's half- 
 sister, stands prominentiy out as a figure in those childhood 
 times. My mother writes of him as follows: "Dr. West has 
 made himself greatly beloved by each child. He has made boats 
 and sailed them with Ellie; has read poetry and acted plays 
 with Conie; and has talked science and medicine and natural 
 history with Teedie, who always craves knowledge." In spite 
 of his craving for knowledge the boy, now nearly fourteen years 
 old, had evidently, however, the normal love of noise and racket, 
 
Green Fields and Foreign Faring 53 
 
 as evinced by the following "spread-eagle" letter to his aunt, 
 who, in her turn, had gone abroad that summer. 
 
 Dear Auntie ^''^^'^ ^^"y- J^^^ 9th, 72. 
 
 We had the most splendid fun on the fourth of July. At 
 eight o'clock we commenced with a discharge of three packs 
 of firecrackers, which awoke most of the people. But we had 
 only begim now, and during the remainder of the day six boxes 
 of torpedoes and thirty-six packs of firecrackers kept the house 
 in an exceedingly lively condition. That evening it rained which 
 made us postpone the fireworks imtil next evening, when they 
 were had with great success, excepting the balloons, which were 
 an awful swindle. We boys assisted by firing roman candles, 
 flowerpots and bengolas. We each got his fair share of burns. 
 
 Conie had a slight attack of asthma last night but I took 
 her riding this morning and we hope she is well now. 
 
 We are permitted now to stay in the water as long as we 
 
 please. The other day I came near being drowned, for I got 
 
 caught under water and was almost strangled before I could 
 
 get out. I study English, French, German and Latin now. 
 
 Bamie spent the fourth at Barrytown where she had Tableaux, 
 
 Dances, &c to her heart's content. Give my love to Uncles 
 
 and Cousin Jirmnie. Aunt Hattie &c. Tell Aunt Hattie I 
 
 will never forget the beautiful jam and the splendid times we 
 
 had at her cottage. -r, ,.,.1 
 
 ° Ever your httle rp -pv 
 
 Later in life, in thinking of this same uncle, whose subsequent 
 career never squared with his natural ability, I have come to feel 
 that sometimes people whom we call failures should not be so 
 called, — for it is often their good fortune to leave upon the malle- 
 able minds of the next generation an inspiration of which they 
 themselves fall sadly short. In the character of this same charm- 
 ing uncle there must have been some lack of fibre, for, brilliant 
 as he was, he let his talents lie dormant. Yet, perhaps, of all 
 
54 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 those who influenced our early childhood, the effect upon us 
 produced by his cultivation, his marvellous memory, his literary 
 interests, and his genial good himior had more to do with the 
 early stirring of intellectual desires in his little relatives than 
 almost any other influence at that time. The very fact that 
 he was not achieving a thousand worth-while things, as was 
 my father, the very fact that he was not busied with the prac- 
 tical care and thought for us, as were my mother and aunt — 
 brought about between us that delightful relationship when the 
 older person leads rather than drives the yoimger into the paths 
 of literature and learning. To have "Uncle Hill" read Shake- 
 speare to us under the trees, and then suggest that we "dress 
 up" and act the parts, to have "Uncle Hill" teach us parts of 
 the famous plays of aU the ages and the equally famous poems, 
 was a delight rather than a task; and he interspersed his Shake- 
 speare with the most remarkable, and, to our childish minds, 
 brilliant doggerel, sometimes of his own making, that could 
 possibly be imagiued — so that Hamlet's soliloquy one day 
 seemed quite as palatable as "Villikins and His Dinah," or 
 "Horum, Chorum, Siunpti Vorum," the next. To show the re- 
 lationship between the charming physician of Philadelphia (the 
 home of my imcle and aunt was in that city) and the young 
 philosopher of New York, I am tempted to insert a letter from 
 the latter to the former written in 1873 from Paris on our second 
 trip abroad. 
 
 "From Theodore the Philosopher to Hilbome, Elder of the 
 Church of Philadelphia. Dated from Paris, a city of Gaul, 
 in the i6th day of the nth month of the 4th year of the reign 
 of Ulysses. [I imagine that General Grant was then President.] 
 Truly, O Hilbome ! this is the first time in many weeks that I 
 have been able to write you concerning our affairs. I have just 
 come from the city of Bonn in the land of the Teuton, where I 
 have been communing with our fellow labourer James of Roose- 
 velt, sumamed The Doctor [our first cousin, yoxmg James West 
 Roosevelt], whom I left in good health. In crossing the Sea 
 
Green Fields and Foreign Faring 55 
 
 of Atiantis I suffered much of a inalady called sickness of the 
 sea, but am now in good health, as are also all our family. I 
 would that you should speak to the sage Leidy concerning the 
 price of his great manuscript, which I am desirous of getting. 
 Give my regards to Susan of West, whom I hope this letter will 
 find in health. I have procured many birds of kinds new to 
 me here, and have preserved them. This is all I have to say 
 for the time being, so will close this short epistle."* 
 
 That summer of 1872 was very enchanting, although over- 
 shadowed by the thought of another "terrible trip to Europe," 
 for after much thought my father and mother had decided that 
 the benefits of a winter on the Nile, and a summer studs^ng 
 German in Dresden, would outweigh the possible disadvantage 
 of breaking into the regular school studies of the three children 
 of the 20th Street nursery. Therefore the whole family set 
 sail again in the autumn of 1872. 
 
 After a delightful time with the uncles and aunts who had 
 settled in England, and many gay excursions to Hampton Court 
 and Bushey Park, and other places of interest, we went by way 
 of Paris and Brindisi to Alexandria, and after some weeks in 
 Cairo set sail on a dahabeah for three months on the Nile. In 
 a letter from my brother Elliott to my aimt he speaks of my 
 father's purchase of a boat. With characteristic disregard of 
 the historic interest of the Nile he says: "Teedie and I won't 
 mind the Nile very much, now that we have a boat to row in, 
 perhaps it won't be so bad after all what with rowing, boxing, 
 and Christmas and playing, in between lessons and the ruins." 
 Reaching Egypt, the same young lover of boxing and boats 
 writes of meeting much-beloved cousins, and again the char- 
 acters of "Ellie" and "Teedie" are markedly brought out in the 
 childish letter, for he says, "We had such a cosey tea. Frank 
 and I poured tea and cut up chicken, while Teedie and Jimmie 
 
 * This in a boyish hand which is beginning to show the character of the 
 young author. 
 
56 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 [the young cousin referred to in 'Teedie's' letter to Doctor West] 
 talked about natural history." 
 
 The experience of a winter on the Nile was a very wonderful 
 one for the little American children, and "EUie's" anticipations 
 were more than carried out. Before we actually set sail I write 
 in my journal of our wonderful trip to the pyramids and our 
 impressions, childish ones of course, of the marvellous bazaars; 
 and then we finally leave Cairo and start on the journey up the 
 ancient river. I have always been so glad that our trip was 
 before the days of the railway up to Karnak, for nothing could 
 have been more Oriental and unlike modern life than the slow 
 progress of our dahabeah, the Aboo Erdan. When there was 
 wind we tacked and slowly sailed, for the boat was old and bulky, 
 but when there was no wind the long line of sailors would get 
 out on the bank of the river and, t5dng themselves to the rope 
 attached to the bow, would track slowly along, bending their 
 bronzed backs with the effort, and singing curious crooning songs. 
 
 In a letter dated December 27 I write to my aunt: "I will 
 tell you about my presents. Amongst others I got a pair of 
 pretty vases, and Teedie says the little birds they have on them 
 are an entirely new species. Teedie and Father go out shooting 
 every day, and so far have been very lucky. Teedie is always 
 talking about it whenever he comes in the room, — ^in fact when 
 he does come in the room you always hear the words 'bird' and 
 'skin.' It certainly is great fun for him." In connection with 
 these same shooting-trips my father writes: "Teedie took his 
 gun and shot an ibis and one or two other specimens this mom- 
 ing while the crew were taking breakfast. Imagine seeing not 
 only flocks of these birds, regarded as so rare by us in days gone 
 by as to be selected as a subject for our game of 'twenty ques- 
 tions,' but also of storks, hawks, owls, pelicans, and, above all, 
 doves i nn u m erable. I presented Teedie with a breech-loader 
 at Christmas, and he was perfectly delighted. It was entire^, 
 unexpected to him, although he had been shooting with it as 
 mine. He is a most enthusiastic sportsman and has infused 
 
Green Fields and Foreign Faring 57 
 
 some of his spirit into me. Yesterday I walked through the 
 bogs with him at the risk of sinking hopelessly and helplessly, 
 for hours, and carried the dragoman's gun, which is a muzzle- 
 loader, with which I only shot several birds quietly resting upon 
 distant limbs and fallen trees; but Tfelt I must keep up with Tee- 
 die." 
 
 The boy of fourteen, with his indomitable energy, was already ' 
 leading his equally indomitable father into different fields of 
 action. He never rested from his studies in natural history. 
 When not walking through quivering bogs or actually shootrag 
 bird and beast, he, surroimded by the brown-faced and curious 
 sailors, would seat himself on the deck of the dahabeah and skin 
 and stuff the products of his sport. I well remember the ex- 
 citement, and, be it confessed, axudety and fear inspired in the 
 hearts of the four young college men who, on another dahabeah, 
 accompanied us on the Nile, when the ardent young sportsman, 
 mounted on an uncontrollable donkey, would ride unexpectedly 
 into their midst, his gun sliug across his shoulders in sUch a 
 way as to render its proximity distinctly dangerous as he bumped 
 absent-mindedly against them. When not actually hunting 
 he was willing to take part in exploration of the marvellous old 
 ruins. 
 
 In a letter to "Edie" I say: "The other day we arrived at 
 Edfoo, and we all went to see the temple together. While we 
 were there Teedie, Ellie, lesi (one of our sailors), -and I started 
 to explore. We went into a little dark room and climbed in a 
 hole which was in the middle of the waU. The boys had candles. 
 It was dark, crawling along the passage doubled up. At last 
 we came to a deep hole, into which Teedie dropped, and we found 
 out it was a mummy pit. It didn't go very far in, but it all 
 seemed very exciting to us to be exploring mummy pits. Some- 
 times we sail head foremost and sometimes the current turns 
 us all the way around — and I wish you could hear the cries of 
 the sailors when anythiag happens." 
 
 They were busy days, for our wise parents insisted upon 
 
58 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 regularity of a certain kind, and my older sister, only just 
 eighteen, gave us lessons in both" French and English in the early 
 morning before we went on the wonderful excursions to the great 
 temples, or before "Teedie" was allowed to escape for his shoot- 
 ing expeditions. I do not think the three months' absence from 
 school was any detriment, and I am very grateful for the stimu- 
 lating interest which that trip on the Nile gave to my brothers 
 and me. I can stiU see in retrospect, as if it were yesterday, the 
 great temple of Kamak as we visited it by moon-light; the 
 majestic colossi at Medinet Haboo; and the more beautiful 
 and delicate ruins of Philae. Often my father would read 
 Egyptian history to us or explain the kind of architecture which 
 we were seeing; but always interspersed with more serious in- 
 struction were merry walks and games and wonderful picnic 
 excursions, so that the winter on the Nile comes back to me as 
 one of romantic interest mixed with the usual fun and cheerful 
 intercourse of our ordinary family life. The four yoimg men 
 who had chartered the dahabeah Rachel were Messrs. Nathaniel 
 Thayer and Frank Merriam of Boston, Augustus Jay of New 
 York, and Harry Godey of Philadelphia, and these four friends, 
 with the addition of other acquaintances whom we frequently 
 met, made for my sister and my parents a delightful circle, 
 into which we little ones were welcomed in a most gracious 
 way. 
 
 In spite of the fact of the charms of the Nile and the fun 
 we frequently had, I write on February i, from Thebes, to my 
 little playmate "Edie," with rather melancholy reminisceiice 
 of a more congenial past: "My own darling Edie," I say, "don't 
 you remember what fun we used to have out in the country, 
 and don't you remember the day we got Pony Grant up in the 
 Chauncey's summer house and couldn't get In'm down again, 
 and how we always were losing Teedie's India rubber shoes? 
 I remember it so perfectly, and what fun it was !" I evidently 
 feel that such adventures were preferable to those in which, we 
 were indulging in far-away Egypt, although I conscientiously 
 
Green Fields and Foreign Faring 59 
 
 describe the ear on one of the colossi at Medmet Haboo as being 
 four feet high, and the temple, I state, with great accuracy, has 
 twelve columns at the north and ten on either side! I seem, 
 however, to be glad to come back from that expedition to Medinet 
 Haboo, for I state that I wish she could see our dahabeah, which 
 is a regular little home. I don't approve — ^in this same letter — 
 of the dancing-girls, which my parents allowed me to see one 
 evening. With early Victorian criticism I state that "there 
 is not a particle of grace in their motions, for they only wriggle 
 their bodies like a snake," and that I really felt they were "very 
 unattractive" — thus proving that the little girl of eleven in 
 1873 was more or less prim in her tastes. I delight, however, 
 in a poem which I copy for "Edie," the first phrase of which 
 has rung in my ears for many a long day. 
 
 "Alas ! must I say it, fare-farewell to thee, 
 Mysterious Egypt, great land of the flea. 
 And thy Thebaic temples, Luxor and Karnac, 
 Where the natives change slowly from yellow to black. 
 Shall I ne'er see thy plain, so fraught with renown, 
 Where the shadoofs go up and the shadoofs go down, 
 Which two stalwart natives bend over and sing, 
 While their loins are concealed by a simple shoe string." 
 
 This verse, in spite of the reference to the lack of clothes of the 
 stalwart natives, evidently did not shock my sensibilities as 
 much as the morions of the dancing-girls. Farther on in the 
 letter I describe the New Year's Eve party, and how Mr. Mer- 
 riam sang a song which I (Conie) liked very much, and which 
 was called "She's Naughty But So Nice." "Teedie," however, 
 did not care for that song, but preferred one called "Aunt 
 Dinah," because one verse ran: "My love she am a girafife, a 
 two-humped camamile." [Music had apparently only charms 
 to soothe liini when suggestive of his beloved animal studies.] 
 From Thebes also my brother writes to his aunt one of the most 
 interesting letters of his boyhood: 
 
6o My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 Near Kom Obos, Jan. 26th, 1873. 
 Deak Aunt Annie: 
 
 My right hand having recovered from the imaginary attack 
 from which it did not suffer, I proceed to thank you for your 
 kind present, which very much delighted me. We are now on 
 the Nile and have been on that great and mysterious river for 
 over a month. I think I have never enjoyed myself so much 
 as in this month. There has always been something to do, for 
 we could always fall back upon shooting when everything else 
 failed us. And then we had those splendid and grand old ruins 
 to see, and one of them wiU stock you with thoughts for a month. 
 The temple that I enjoyed most was Kamak. We saw it by 
 moonlight. I never was impressed by anything so much. To 
 wander among those great columns imder the same moon that 
 had looked down on them for thousands of years was awe- 
 inspiring; it gave rise to thoughts of the ineffable, the unut- 
 terable; thoughts which you cannot express, which cannot be 
 uttered, which cannot be answered until after The Great 
 Sleep. 
 
 [Here the little philosopher breaks off and continues in less 
 serious mood on February 9.] 
 
 I have had great enjoyment from the shooting here, as I 
 have procured between one and two hundred skins. I expect 
 to procure some more in Syria. Inform Emlen of this. As 
 you are probably aware, Father presented me on Christmas 
 with a double-barrelled breech loading shot gun, which I never 
 move on shore without, excepting on Simdays. The largest 
 bird I have yet killed is a Crane which I shot as it rose from a 
 lagoon near Thebes. 
 
 The sporting is injurious to my trousers. . . . 
 
 Now that I am on the subject of dress I may as well men- 
 tion that the dress of the inhabitants up to ten years of age is 
 nothing. After that they put on a shirt descended from some 
 remote ancestor, and never take it off till the day of their 
 death. 
 
Green Fields and Foreign Faring 6i 
 
 Mother is recovering from an attack of indigestion, but the 
 rest are all well and send love to you and our friends, in which 
 I join sincerely, and remain. 
 
 Your Most Affectionate Nephew, 
 
 T. Roosevelt, Jr. 
 
 The adoration of his little sister for the erudite "Teedie" is 
 shown in every letter, especially in the letters to their mutual 
 little friend "Edie." On January 25 this admiration is summed 
 up in a postscript which says: "Teedie is out shooting now. 
 He is quite professionist [no higher praise could apparently be 
 given than this remarkable word] in shooting, skinning and 
 stuffing, and he is so satisfied." This expression seems to sum 
 up the absolute sense of well-being during that wonderful winter 
 of the delicate boy, who, in spite of his delicacy, always achieved 
 his heart's desire. 
 
 In the efforts of his little sister to be a worthy companion, 
 I find in my diary, written that same winter of the Nile, one 
 abortive struggle on my own part to become a naturalist. On 
 the page at the end of my journal I write in large letters: 
 
 NATURAL HISTORY 
 
 "qtjail 
 
 "Ad. near Alexandria, Egypt, November 27th, 1872. Length 
 S — Expanse 13.0 Wings 5 Tail 1.3 — Bill 5. Tarsus 1.2 
 Middle Toe i.i Hind Toe .3." 
 
 Under these mystic signs is a more elaborate and painstak- 
 ing description of the above bird. I can see my brother now 
 giving me a serious lecture on the subject, and trying to inspire 
 a mind at that time securely closed to all such interests — to 
 open at least a crack of its reluctant door, for "Teedie" felt 
 that to walk with blind eyes in a world of such fluttering excite- 
 ment as was made for him by the birds of the air showed an 
 
62 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 innate depravity which he wished with all his soul to cure in 
 his beloved little sister. At the end of my description of the 
 quail I fall by the wayside, and only once again make an ex- 
 cursion into the natural history of the great land of Egypt; only 
 once more do I struggle with the description of a bird called 
 this time by the curious name of "Ziczac." (Could this be "Zig- 
 zag," or was it simply my childish mind that zigzagged in its 
 painful efforts to follow the impossible trail of my elder brother ?) 
 In my account of this, to say the least, imusual bird I remark: 
 "Tarsus not finished." Whether / have not finished the tarsusj 
 or whether the bird itself had an arrested development of some 
 kind, I do not explain; and on the blank page opposite this final 
 effort in scientific adventure I finish, as I began, by the words 
 "Natural History," and underneath them, to explain my own 
 unsuccessful efforts, I write: "My Brother, Theodore Roose- 
 velt, Esq." Whether I had decided that all natural history 
 was summed up in that magic name, or whether from that time 
 on I was determined to leave all natural history to my brother, 
 Theodore Roosevelt, Esq., I do not know; but the fact remains 
 that^from that day to this far distant one I have never again 
 dipped into the mystery of mandibles and tarsi.. 
 
 And so the sunny, happy days on the great river passed 
 away. A merry eighteenth-birthday party in January for my 
 sister Anna took the form of a moonlight ride to the great temple 
 of Kamak, and, although we younger ones, naturally tired fre- 
 quently of the effort to understand history and hieroglyphics, 
 and turned with joy even in the shadow of the grand colxmms 
 of Abydos to the game of "Buzz," still I can say with truth 
 that the easily moulded and receptive minds of the three little 
 children responded to the atmosphere of the great river with 
 its mighty past, and all through the after-years the interest 
 aroused in those early days stimulated their craving for knowl- 
 edge about the land of the Pharaohs. 
 
 On our way down the river an incident occurred which, in 
 
Green Fields and Foreign Faring 63 
 
 a sense, was also memorable. At Rhoda on our return from the 
 tombs of Beni Hasan we found that a dahabeah had drawn up 
 near ours, on which were the old sage Ralph Waldo Emerson 
 and his daughter. My father, who never lost a chance of bring- 
 ing into the lives of his children some worth-while memory, took 
 us all to see the old poet, and I often think with pleasure of the 
 lovely smile, somewhat vacant, it is true, but very gentle, with 
 which he received the little children of his feUow coimtryman. 
 It was at this time that the story was told in connection with 
 Mr. Emerson that some sentimental person said: "How won- 
 derful to think of Emerson looking at the Sphinx ! What a 
 message the Sphinx must have had for Emerson." Whereupon 
 an irreverent wit replied: "The only message the Sphinx could 
 possibly have had for Emerson must have been 'You're an- 
 other.' " I can quite understand now, remembering the m3rstic, 
 dreamy face of the old philosopher, how this witticism came 
 about. 
 
 And now the Nile trip was over and we were back again in 
 Cairo, and planning for the further interest of a trip through the 
 Holy Land. Mr. Thayer and Mr. Jay, two of the young friends 
 who had accompanied us on the Nile, decided to join our party, 
 and after a short stay in Cairo we again left for Alexandria and 
 thence sailed for Jaffa. In my diary I write at the Convent of 
 Ramleh between Jaffa and Jerusalem, where we spent our first 
 night: "In Jaffa we chose our horses, which was very exciting, 
 and started on our long ride. After three hours of delightful rid- 
 ing through a great many green fields, we reached this convent 
 and found they had no room for ladies, because they were not 
 allowed to go into one part of the building as it was against the 
 rules, but at last Father got the old monks to allow us to come 
 into another part of the convent for just one night." 
 
 "Father," like his namesake, almost always got what he 
 wanted. 
 
 From that time ©n one adventure after another followed. 
 
64 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 I write of many nice gallops, and of my horse lying down in the 
 middle of streams; and, incidentally with less interest, of the 
 Mount of Olives and the Church of the Holy Sepulchre! An- 
 tonio Sapienza proved to be an admirable dragoman, and always 
 the practical part of the tenting cavalcade started early in tke 
 morning, and therefore as the rest of us rode over the hills in 
 the later afternoon we would see arranged cosily in some beau- 
 tiful valley the white tents, with the curling smoke from the 
 kitchen-tent akeady rising with the promise of a delightful 
 dmner. 
 
 Over Jordan we went, and what a very great disappointment 
 Jordan was to our childish minds, which had always pictured 
 a broad river and great waves parting for the Ark of the 
 Covenant to pass. This Jordan was a Uttle stream hardly more 
 impressive than the brook at our old home at Madison, and we 
 could not quite accustom ourselves to the disappointment. But 
 Jerusalem with its narrow streets and gates, its old churches, the 
 high Mount of Olives, and the little town of Bethlehem not far 
 away, and, even more interesting from the standpoint of beauty, 
 the vision of the Convent of Mar Saba on the high hill not far 
 from Hebron, and beyond all else the blue sparkling waters of 
 the Dead Sea, all remain in my memory as a wonderful pano- 
 rama of romance and delight. 
 
 Arab sheiks visited us frequently in the evening and brought 
 their followers to dance for us, and wherever my father went 
 he acamiulated friends of all kinds and colors, and we, his chil- 
 dren, shared in the marvellous atmosphere he created. I re- 
 member, in connection with the Dead Sea, that "Teedie" and 
 Mr. Jay decided that they could sink in it, although the guides 
 had warned thetn that the salt was so buoyant that it was im- 
 possible for any living thing to sink in the waters (the Dead Sea 
 was about the most alive sea that I personally have ever seen), 
 and so the two adventurous ones imdertbok to diVe, and tried 
 to remain under water. "Teedie" fortunately relinquished 
 the effort almost immediately, but Mr. Jay, who in a spirit of 
 
Green Fields and Foreign Faring 65 
 
 bravado struggled to remain at the bottom, suffered the ill ef- 
 fects from crusted salt in eyes and ears for many hours after 
 leaving the water. 
 
 For about three weeks we rode throvigh the Holy Land, and 
 my memory of many flowers remains as one of the charms of 
 that trip. Later, led in the paths of botany by a beloved 
 friend, I often longed to go back to that land of flowers; but 
 then to my childish eyes they meant nothing but beauty and 
 delight. 
 
 After returning to Jerusalem and Jaffa we took ship again 
 and landed this time at Bejrout, and started on another camp- 
 ing-trip to Damascus, through perhaps the most beautiful 
 scenery which we had yet enjoyed. During that trip also we 
 had various adventures. I describe in my diary how my father, 
 at one of our stopping-places, brought to our tents some beau- 
 tiful young Arab girls, how they gave us oranges and nuts, and 
 how cordially they begged us, when a great storm came up and 
 our tents were blown away, to come for shelter to their quaint 
 little houses. 
 
 Even to the minds of the children of eleven and fourteen 
 years of age, the great Temple of Baalbek proved a lure of 
 beauty, and the diary sagely remarks that "It is quite as beau^- 
 tiful as Kamak, although in an entirely different way, as Baal- 
 bek has delicate columns, and Kamak great, massive columns." 
 The beauty, however, is not a matter of such interest as the 
 mysterious little subterranean passages, and I tell how "Teedie" 
 helped me to climb the walls and little tower, and to crawl 
 through these same imexplored dark places. 
 
 The ride into Damascus itself remains stiU an expedition of 
 glamour, for we reached the vicinity of the city by a high cliff, 
 and the dty burst upon us with great suddenness, its minarets 
 stretching their delicate, arrow-like spires to the sky in so Orien- 
 tal a fashion that even the practical hearts of the little American 
 children responded with a thrill of excitement. Again, after an 
 interesting stay in Damascus, we made our way back to Bey- 
 
66 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 rout. While waiting for the steamer there my brother Elliott 
 was taken ill, and writes in a homesick fashion to the beloved 
 aunt to whom we confided all our joys and woes. Poor little 
 boy! He says pathetically: "Oh, Auntie, you don't know how 
 I long for a finishing-up of this ever-lasting traveling, when we 
 can once more sit down to breakfast, dinner and lunch in our own 
 house. Since I have been sick and only allowed rice and chicken, 
 — and very little of them — ^I have longed for one of our rice pud- 
 dings, and a pot of that strawberry jam, and one of Mary's 
 sponge cakes, and I have thought of when I would go to your 
 rooms for dinner and what jolly chops and potatoes and dessert 
 I would get there, and when I would come to breakfast we would 
 have buckwheat cakes. Perhaps I am a little homesick." I am 
 not so sure but what many an intelligent traveller, could his 
 or her heart be closely examined, would find written upon it 
 "lovely potatoes, chops and hot buckwheat cakes." 
 
 But all the same, in spite of "Ellie's" rhapsody, off we started 
 on another steamer, and my father writes on March 28, 1873: 
 
 Steamer o£E Rhodes. 
 Teedie is in great spirits, as the sailors have caught for him 
 numerous specimens, which he stuffs on deck, to the edification 
 of a large audience. 
 
 I write during the same transit, after stopping at Athens, 
 that "It is a very lovely town, and that I should have liked to 
 stay there longer, but that was not to be." I also dedded that 
 although the ruins were beautiful, I did not like them as much 
 as either Kamak or Baalbek. Having dutifully made these 
 architectural criticisms, I turn with gusto to the fact that Tom 
 and Fannie Lawrence, "Teedie," "Ellie," and I have such splen- 
 did games of tag on the different steamers, and that I know my 
 aunt would have enjoyed seeing us. The tag was "con amore," 
 while the interest in the temples was, I fear, somewhat induced. 
 Our comprehending mother and father, however, always allowed 
 
Green Fields and pbreign Faring 67 
 
 us joyous moments between educational efforts. In a letter 
 from Constantinople written by "Ellie" on April 7, he says: 
 "We have had Tom and Frank Lawrence here to dinner, and 
 we had a splendid game of 'muggins' and tried to play eucre 
 (I don't know that this is rightly spelled) with five, but did not 
 suceede, Teedie did make such mistakes. [Not such an expert 
 in cards, you see, as in tarsi and mandibles !] But we were in 
 such spirits that it made no difference, and we did nothing but 
 shout at the top of our voices the battle cry of freedom; and the 
 pla3ang of a game of slapjack helped us get off our steam with 
 hard slaps, but even then there was enough (steam) left in Tee- 
 die and Tom to have a candle fight and grease their clothes, 
 and poor Frank's and mine, who were doing nothing at all ! "- 
 As one can see by this description, the learned and rather deli- 
 cate "Teedie" was only a normal, merry boy after all. "Ellie" 
 describes also the wonderful rides in Constantinople, and many 
 other joys planned by our indulgent parents. From that same 
 city, called because of its many steeples The City of Minarets, 
 "Teedie" writes to his little friend Edith: 
 
 I think I have enjoyed myself more'this winter than I ever 
 did before. Much to add to my enjoyment Father gave me a 
 gun at Christmas, which rendered me happy and the rest of 
 the family miserable. 
 
 I killed several himdred birds with it, and then went and 
 lost it! I think I enjoyed the time in Egypt most, and after 
 that I had the most fun while camping out in Syria. 
 
 While camping out we were on horseback for several hours 
 of each day, and as I like riding ever so much, and as the Syrian 
 horses are very good, we had a splendid time. While riding I 
 bothered the family somewhat by carrying the gun over my 
 shoulder, and on the journey to the Jordan, when I was on the 
 most spirited horse I ever rode, I bothered the horse too, as was 
 evidenced by his running away several times when the gun struck 
 him too hard. Our tent life had a good many adventures in it. 
 
68 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 Once it rained very hard and the rain went into our open trunks. 
 Another time our tents were aJmost blown away in a rough wind, 
 and once I hunted a couple of jackals for two or three miles as 
 fast as the horse could go. 
 
 Yours truly, t. Roosevelt, Je. 
 
 This little missive sums up the joy of "Teedie's" winter in 
 Egypt and Syria, and so it seems a fitting moment to turn to 
 other interests and occupations, leaving the mysterious land of 
 the p3n:amids and that sacred land of mountains and flowers 
 behind us in a glow of child memories, which as year followed 
 year became brighter rather than dimmer. 
 
ni 
 
 THE' DRESDEN LITERARY AMERICAN CLUB 
 
 IT was a sad change to the three young American children 
 to settle in Dresden in two German families, after the care- 
 free and stimulating experiences of Egypt and the Holy 
 Land. Our wise parents, however, realized that a whole year 
 of irregularity was a serious mistake in that formative period 
 of our lives, and they also wished to leave no stone unturned 
 to give us every educational advantage during our twelve 
 months' absence from home and country. It was decided, 
 therefore, that the two boys should be placed in the family of 
 Doctor and Mrs. Minckwitz, while I, a very lone and homesick 
 small girl, was put with some kind but far too elderly people. 
 Professor and Mrs. Wackemagel. This last arrangement was 
 supposed to be advantageous, so that the brothers and sister 
 should not speak too much English together. The kind old 
 professor and his wife and the daughters, who seemed to the 
 little girl of eleven years on the verge of the grave (although 
 only about forty years of age), did all that was in their power to 
 lighten the agonized longing in the child's heart for her mother 
 and sister, but to no avail, for I write to my mother, who had 
 gone to Carlsbad for a cure: "I was perfectly miserable and 
 very much unstrung when Aunt Lucy wrote to you that no one 
 could mention your name or I would instantly begin to cry. 
 Oh ! Mother darling, sometimes I feel that I caimot stand it any 
 longer but I am going to try to follow a motto which Father 
 wrote to me, 'Try to have the best time you can.' I should be 
 very sony to disappoint Father but sometimes I feel as if I 
 
 69 
 
yo My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 could not stand it any longer. We will talk it over when you 
 come. Your own little Conie." 
 
 Poor little girl! I was trying to be noble; for my father, who 
 had been obliged to return to America for business reasons, had 
 impressed me with the fact that to spend part of the smnmer in 
 a German family and thus learn the language was an unusual 
 opportunity, aind one that must be seized upon. My spirit 
 was willing, but my flesh was very, very weak, and the age of 
 the kind people with whom I had been placed, the strange, dread- 
 ful, black bread, the meat that was given only as a great treat 
 after it had been boiled for soup — everything, in fact, conduced 
 to a feeling of great distance from the lovely land of buckwheat 
 cakes and rare steak, not to mention the separation from the 
 beloved brothers whom I was allowed to see only at rare inter- 
 vals during the week. The consequence was that very soon my 
 mother came back to Dresden in answer to the pathos of my 
 letters, for I foimd.it impossible to foUow that motto, so char- 
 acteristic of my father, "Try to have the best time you can." 
 I began to sicken very much as the Swiss mountaineers, are said 
 to lose their spirits and appetites when separated from their 
 beloved mountains; so my mother persuaded the kind Minckr 
 witz family to take me imder their roof, as well as my brothers, 
 and from that time forth there was no more melancholy, no 
 bursting into poetic dirges constantly celebrating the misery of 
 a young American in a German family. 
 
 From the time that I was allowed to be part of the Minck- 
 witz family everything seemed to be fraught with interest and 
 many pleasures as well as with systematic good hard work. In 
 these days, when the word " German" has almost a sinister sound 
 in the ears of an American, I should like to speak with affec- 
 tionate respect of that German family in which the three little 
 American children passed several happy months. The mem- 
 bers of the family were typically Teutonic in many ways: the 
 Herr Hofsrath was the kindliest of creatures, and his rubicund, 
 smiling wife paid him the most loving court; the three daughters 
 
The Dresden Literary American Club 71 
 
 — gay, well-educated, and very temperamental yoimg women — 
 threw themselves into the work of teaching us with a hearty 
 good will, which met with real response from us, as that kind of 
 effort invariably does. Our two cousins, the same little cousins 
 who had shared the happy simmier memories of Madison, New 
 Jersey, when we were much yoimger, were also in Dresden with 
 their mother, Mrs. Stuart Elliott, the "Aunt Lucy" referred to 
 frequently in our letters. Aunt Lucy was bravely facing the 
 results of the sad Civil War, and her only chance of giving her 
 children a proper education was to take them to a foreign coun- 
 try where the possibility of good schools, combined with inex- 
 pensive living, suited her depleted income. Her little apartment 
 on Sunday afternoons was always open to us all, and there we 
 five little cousins formed the celebrated "D. L. A. C." (Dresden 
 Literary American Club !) 
 
 On June 2 I wrote to my friend "Edie": "We five children 
 have gotten up a club and meet every Sunday at Aunt Lucy's, 
 and read the poetry and stories that we have written during 
 the week. When the book is all done, we will sell the book either 
 to mother or Aunt Annie and divide the moneyj (although on 
 erudition bent, still of commercial mind !) / am going to write 
 poetry all the time. My first poem was called 'A Sunny Day 
 in June.' Next time I am going to give ' The Lament of an Amer- 
 ican in a German Family.' It is an entirely different style I 
 assure you." The "different style" is so very poor that I re- 
 frain from quoting that illustrious poem. 
 
 The work for the D. L. A. C. proved to be a very entertain- 
 ing pastime, and great competition ensued. A motto was chosen 
 by "Johnnie" and "Ellie," who were the wits of the society. 
 The motto was spoken of with bated breath and mysteriously 
 inscribed W. A. N. A. underneath the mystic signs of D. L. A. C. 
 For many a long year no one but those in our strictest confidence 
 were allowed to know that "W. A. N. A." stood for "We Are 
 No Asses." This, perhaps somewhat untruthful statement, 
 was objected to originally by "Teedie," who firmly maintained 
 
"^"^ 
 
 72 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 that the mere making of such a motto showed that " Johmiie" 
 and "Ellie" were certainly exceptions that proved that rule. 
 "Teedie" himself, struggling as usual with terrible attacks of 
 iasthma that perpetually undermined his health and strength, 
 was all the same, between the attacks, the ringleader in fun 
 and gaiety and every imaginable hiunorous adventure. He was 
 a slender, overgrown boy at the time, and wore his hair long in 
 true German student fashion, and adopted a would-be phi- 
 losopher type of look, effectively enh^iced by trousers that 
 were outgrown, and coat sleeves so short that they gave him a 
 'fSmike"-like appearance. His contributions to the immortal 
 literary club were either serious and very accurate from a 
 natural-historical standpoint, or else they showed, as compara- 
 tively few of his later writings have shown, the delightful qual- 
 ity of humor which, through his whole busy life, lightened for 
 him every load and criticism. I cannot resist giving in full the 
 fascinating little story called "Mrs. Field Mouse's Dinner 
 Party," in which the personified animals played social parts, 
 in the portrayal of which my brother divulged (my readers must 
 remember he was only fourteen) a knowledge of "society" life, 
 its acrid jealousies and hypocrisies, of which he never again 
 seemed to be conscious. 
 
 MRS. FIELD MOUSE'S DINNER PARTY 
 By Theodore Roosevelt — Aged FotrRiEEir 
 
 "My Dear," said Mrs. M. to Mr. M. one day as they were sitting 
 on an elegant acorn sofa, just after breakfast, "My Dear, I think 
 that we really must give a dinner party." "A What, my love?" 
 exclaimed Mr. M. in a surprised tone. "A Dinner Party"; returned 
 Mrs. M. firmly, "you have no objections I suppose?" 
 
 "Of course not, of course not," said Mr. M. hastily, for there was 
 an ominous gleam in his wife's eye. "But — ^but why have it yet 
 for a while, my love?" "Why indeed! A pretty question! After 
 that odious Mrs. Frog's great tea party the other evening! But 
 that is just it, you never have any proper regard for your station in 
 life, and on me involves all the duty of keeping up appearances, and 
 
Sm- 
 
 S2 
 
 o o 
 
 o c 
 W.2, 
 
 -T3 <u 
 
 u 
 
 S 
 <; 
 
 ■x> 
 
 4j — 
 
The Dresden Literary American Club 73 
 
 after all this is the gratitude I get for it !" And Mrs. M. covered her 
 eyes and fell into hysterics of 50 flea power. Of course, Mr. M. had 
 to promise to have it whenever she liked. 
 
 "Then the day after tomorrow would not be too early, I suppose?" 
 "My Dear," remonstrated the imfortunate Mr. M., but Mrs. M. 
 did not heed him and continued: "You could get the cheese and bread 
 from Squeak, Nibble & Co. with great ease, and the firm of Brown 
 House and Wood Rats, with whom you have business relations, you 
 told me, could get the other necessaries." 
 
 "But in such a short time," commenced Mr. M. but was sharply 
 cut off by the lady; "Just like you, Mr. M. ! Always raising objec- 
 tions ! and when I am doing aU I can to help you !" Symptoms of 
 hysterics and Mr. M. entirely convinced, the lady continues: "Well, 
 then we will have it the day after tomorrow^ By the way, I hear 
 that Mr. Chipmunck has got in a new supply of nuts, and you might 
 as well go over after breakfast and get them, before they are bought 
 by someone else." 
 
 "I have a business engagement with Sir Butterfly in an hour," 
 began Mr. M. but stopped, meekly got his hat and went off at a glance 
 from Mrs. M.'s eye. 
 
 When he was gone, the lady called down her eldest daughter, the 
 diarming Miss M. and commenced to arrange for the party. 
 
 "We will use the birch bark plates," — commenced Mrs. M. 
 
 "And the chestnut 'tea set,' " put in her daughter. 
 
 "With the maple leaf vases, of course," continued Mrs. M- 
 
 "And the eel bone spoons and forks," added Miss M. 
 
 "And the dog tooth knives," said the lady. 
 
 "And the slate table cloth," replied her daughter. 
 
 "Where shall we have the ball anyhow," said Mrs. M. 
 
 ''Why, Mr. Blind Mole has let his large subterranean apartments 
 and that would be the best place," said Miss M. 
 
 "Sir Lizard's place, 'Shady Nook,' which we bought the other 
 day, is far better I think," said Mrs. M. "But I don't," returned 
 her daughter. "Miss M. be still," said her mother sternly, and Miss 
 M. was stilL So it was settled that the ball was to be held at ' Shady 
 Nook.' 
 
 , "As for the invitations, Tommy Cricket wiU carry them around," 
 said Mrs. M. "But who shall we have ? " asked her daughter. After 
 some discussion, the guests were determined on. Among them were 
 all the Family of Mice and Rats, Sir Lizard, Mr. Chipmunck, Sir 
 Shrew, Mrs. Shrew, Mrs. Bullfrog, Miss Katydid, Su: Grasshopper, 
 
74 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 Lord Beetle, Mr. Ant, Sir Butterfly, Miss Dragonfly, Mr. Bee, Mr. 
 Wasp, Mr. Hornet, Madame Maybug, Miss Lady Bird, and a num- 
 ber of others. Messrs. Gloworm and Firefly agreed to provide lamps 
 as the party was to be had at night. Mr. M., by a great deal of exer- 
 tion, got the provisions together in time, and Miss M. did the same 
 with the fumitmre, while Mrs. M. superintended generally, and was 
 a great bother. 
 
 Water Bug & Co. conveyed everything to Shady Nook, and so 
 at the appointed time everything was ready, and the whole family, 
 in their best ball dresses, waited for the visitors. 
 • ••••••• 
 
 The fisrt visitor to arrive was Lady Maybug. "Stupid old thing; 
 always first," muttered Mrs. M., and then aloud, "How charming 
 it is to see you so prompt, Mrs. Maybug; I can alwaj^ rely on yow 
 being here in time." 
 
 "Yes Ma'am, oh law ! but it is so hot — oh law ! and the carriage, 
 oh law ! almost broke down; oh law ! I did really think I never should 
 get here — oh law !" and Mrs. Maybug threw herself on the sofa; but 
 the sofa luifortimately had one weak leg, and as Mrs. Maybug was 
 no light weight, over she went. While Mrs. M. (inwardly swearmg 
 if ever a mouse swore) hastened to her assistance, and in the midst 
 of the confusion caused by this accident. Tommy Cricket (who had 
 been hired for waiter and dressed in red trousers accordingly) threw 
 open the door and announced in a shrill pipe, "Nibble Squeak & Co., 
 Mum," then hastily correcting himself, as he received a. dagger like 
 glance from Mrs. M., "Mr. Nibble and Mr. Squeak, Ma'am," and 
 precipitately retreated through the door. Meanwhile the unfortunate 
 Messrs. Nibble and Squeak, who while trying to look easy in their 
 new clothes, had luckily not heard the introduction^ were doing their 
 best to bow gracefully to Miss Maybug and Miss Mouse, the respec- 
 tive mamas of these yoimg ladies having pushed them rapidly forward 
 as each of the ladies was trying to get up a match between the rich 
 Mr. Squeak and her daughter, although Miss M. preferred Mr. Wood- 
 mouse and Miss Maybug, Mr. Hornet. In the next few minutes the 
 company came pouring in (among them Mr. Woodmouse, accom- 
 panying Miss Katydid, at which sight Miss M. turned green with 
 envy), and after a very short period the party was called in to dinner, 
 for the cook had boiled the hickory nuts too long and they had to be 
 sent up immediately or they would be spoiled. Mrs. M. displayed 
 great generalship in the arrangement of the people, Mr. Squeak taldng 
 in Miss M., Mr. Hornet, Miss Maybug, and Mr. Woodmouse, Miss 
 
The Dresden Literary American Club 75 
 
 Katydid. But now Mr. M. had invited one person too many for the 
 plates, and so Mr. M. had to do without one. At first this was not 
 noticed, as each person was seeing who could get the most to eat, 
 with the exception of those who were love-making, but after a while. 
 Sir Lizard, (a great swell and a very high Uver) turned round and 
 remained, " Ee-aw, I say, Mr. M., why don't you take something more 
 to eat?" "Mr. M. is not at all hungry tonight, are you my dear?" 
 put in Mrs. M. smiling at Sir Lizard, and frowning at Mr. M. "Not 
 at all, not at all," replied the latter hastily. Sir Lizard seemed dis- 
 posed to continue the subject, but Mr. Moth, (a very scientific 
 gentleman) made a diversion by saying, "Have you seen my work 
 on ' Various Antenae ' ? In it I demonstrated clearly the superiority of 
 feathered to knobbed Antenae and" — "Excuse me. Sir," interrupted 
 Sir Butterfly, "but you surely don't mean to say-^" 
 
 "Excuse me, if you please," replied Mr. Moth sharply, "but I 
 do mean it, and if you read my work, you will perceive that the rays 
 of feather-like particles on the trunk of the Antenae deriving from 
 the center in straight or curved lines generally" — at this moment 
 Mr. Moth luckily choked himself and seizing the lucky instant, Mrs. 
 M. rang for the desert. 
 
 There was a sort of struggling noise in the pantry, but that was 
 the only answer. A second ring, no answer. A third ring; and Mrs. 
 M. rose in majestic wrath, and in dashed the unlucky Tommy Cricket 
 with the cheese, but alas, while half way in the room, the beautiful 
 new red trousers came down, and Tommy and cheese rolled straight 
 into Miss Dragon Fly who fainted without any unnecessary delay, 
 while the noise of Tommy's howls made the room ring. There was 
 great confusion immediately, and while Tommy was being kicked 
 out of the room, and while Lord Beetle was emptying a bottle of rare 
 rosap over Miss Dragon Fly, in mistake for water, Mrs. M. gave a 
 glance at Mr. M., which made him quake in his shoes, and said in a 
 low voice, "Provoking thing ! now you see the good of no suspenders" 
 — "But my dear, you told me not to"— began Mr. M., but was in- 
 terrupted by Mrs. M. "Don't speak to me, you — " but here Miss 
 Katydid's little sister struck in on a sharp squeak. "Katy kissed 
 Mr. Woodmouse!" "Katy didn't," returned her brother. "Katy 
 did," "Katy didn't," "Katy did," "Katy didn't." AU eyes were 
 now turned on the crimsoning Miss Katydid, but she was imex- 
 pectedly saved by the lamps suddenly commencing to burn blue ! 
 
 "There, Mr. M. ! Now you see what you have done!" said the 
 lady of the house, sternly. 
 
76 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 "My dear, I told you they could not get enough ofl if you had 
 the party so early. It was your own fault," said Mr. M. worked up 
 to desperation. 
 
 Mrs. M. gave him a glance that would have annihilated three 
 millstones of moderate size, from its sharpness, and would have fol- 
 lowed the example of Miss Dragon Fly, but was anticipated by Ma- 
 dame Maybug, who, as three of the kimps above her went out, fell 
 into blue convulsions on the sofa. As the whole room was now sub- 
 siding into darkness, the company broke up and went off with some 
 abruptness and confusion, and when they were gone, Mrs. M. turned 
 (by the light of one bad lamp) an eagle eye on Mr. M. and said — , but 
 we will now draw a curtain over the harrowing scene that ensued and 
 say, 
 
 "Good Bye." 
 
 "Teedie" not only indulged in the free play of fancy such 
 as the above, but wrote with extraordinary system and regular- 
 ity for a boy of fourteen to his mother and father, and perhaps 
 these letters, written in the far-away Dresden atmosphere, show 
 more conclusively than aJmost ajjy others the character, the 
 awakening mind, the forceful mentality of the yoimg and deli- 
 cate boy. On May 29, in a letter to his mother, a very parental 
 letter about his homesick little sister who had not yet been taken 
 from the elderly family in which she was so xmhappy, he drops 
 into a lighter vein and says: "I have overheard a good deal of 
 Minckwitz conversation which they did not think I understood; 
 Father was considered 'very pretty' {sehr hUbscK) and his Ger- 
 man 'exceedingly beautiful,' neither of which statements I quite 
 agree with." And a week or two later, writing to his father, 
 he describes, after referring casually to a bad attack of asthma, 
 an afternoon of tag and climbing trees, supper out in the open 
 air, and long walks through the green fields dotted with the blue 
 cornflowers and brilliant red poppies. True to his individual 
 tastes, he says: "When I am not studying my lessons or out 
 walking I spend all my time in translating natural history, wres- 
 tling with Richard, a young cousin of the Minckwitz' whom I 
 can throw as often as he throws me, and I also sometimes cook. 
 
The Dresden Literary American Club 77 
 
 although my efforts in the culinary art are really confined to 
 grinding coffee, beating eggs or making hash, and such light 
 labors." Later he writes again: "The boxing gloves are a source 
 of great amusement ; you ought to have seen us after our ' rounds ' 
 yesterday." The foregoing "rounds" were described even more 
 graphically by "Ellie" in a letter to our uncle, Mr. Grade, as 
 follows: "Father, you know, sent us a pair of boxing gloves 
 apiece and Teedie, Johnnie, and I have had joUy fun with them. 
 Last night in a round of one minute and a half with Teedie, he 
 got a bloody nose and I got a bloody mouth, and in a round with 
 Johnnie, I got a bloody mouth again and he a pair of purple 
 eyes. Then Johnnie gave Teedie another bloody nose. [The 
 boys by this time seemed to have multiplied their features in- 
 definitely with more purple eyes !] We do enjoy them so ! Box- 
 ing is one of Teedie's and my favorite amusements; it is such 
 a novelty to be made to see stars when it is not night." No won- 
 der that later "Ellie" contributed what I called in one of my 
 later letters a "tragical" article called "Bloody Hand" for the 
 D. L. A. C, perhaps engendered by the memory of all those 
 bloody mouths and noses! 
 
 "Teedie" himself, in writing to his Aunt Annie, describes 
 himself as a "bully boy with a black eye," and in the same letter, 
 which seems to be in answer to one in which this devoted aunt 
 had described an unusual specimen to interest him, he says: 
 
 "Dear darling little Nancy: I have received your letter con- 
 cerning the wonderful animal and although the fact of your 
 having described it as having horns and being carnivorous has 
 occasioned me grave doubts as to your veracity, yet I think in 
 course of time a meeting may be called by the Roosevelt Mu- 
 seum and the matter taken into consideration, although this 
 will not happen until after we have reached America. The 
 Minckwitz family are all splendid but very superstitious. My 
 scientific pursuits cause the family a good deal of consternation. 
 
 "My arsenic was confiscated and my mice thrown (with the 
 tongs) out of the window. In cases like this I would approach 
 
78 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 a refractory female, mouse in hand, comer her, and bang the 
 mouse very near her face until she was thoroughly convinced 
 of the wickedness of her actions. Here is a view of such a scene. 
 
 I am getting along very well with German and studying really 
 hard. Your loving T. R., Secretary and Librarian of Roosevelt 
 Museum. (Shall I soon hail you as «, brother, I mean sister mem- 
 ber of the Museum ?) " . 
 
 Evidently the carnivorous animal with horns was a stepping- 
 stone to membership in the exclusive Roosevelt Museum ! 
 
 The Dresden memories include many happy excursions,/ 
 happy in spite of the fact that they were sometimes taken be- 
 cause of poor "Teedie's" severe attacks of asthma. On June 
 29th he writes his father: "I have a conglomerate of good news 
 and bad news to report to you; the former far outweighs the 
 latter, however. I am at present suffering from a slight attack, 
 of asthma. However, it is only a small attack and except for 
 the fact that I cannot speak without blowing like an abridged 
 
The Dresden Literary American Club 79 
 
 hippopotamus, it does not inconvenience me very much. We are 
 now studying hard and everything is systematized. Excuse 
 my writing, the asthma has made my hand tremble awfully." 
 The asthma of which he makes so light became unbearable, and 
 the next letter, on June 30 from the Bastei in Saxon Switzer- 
 land, says: "You will doubtless be surprised at the heading of 
 this letter, but as the asthma did not get any better, I concluded 
 to come out here. Elliott and Corinne and Fraulein Anna and 
 Fraulein Emma came with me for the excursion. We started 
 in the train and then got out at a place some distance below 
 these rocks where we children took horses and came up here, 
 the two ladies following on foot. The scenery on the way and 
 all about here was exceedingly, bold and beautiful. All the moun- 
 tains, if they deserve the name of mountains, have scarcely any 
 gradual decline. They descend abruptly and precipitously to 
 the plain. In fact, the sides of the mountains in most parts are 
 bare while the tops are covered with pine forests with here and 
 there jagged conical peaks rising from the foliage. There are 
 no long ranges, simply a number of sharp high hiUs rising from 
 a green fertile plain through which the river Elbe wanders. You 
 can judge from this that the scenery is really magnificent. I 
 have been walking in the forests collecting butterflies. I could 
 not but be struck, with the dijfference between the animal life 
 of these forests and the palm groves of Egypt, (auld lang syne 
 now). Although this is in one of the wildest parts of Saxony 
 and South Germany, yet I do not think the proportion is as much 
 as one here for twenty there or around Jericho, and the differ- 
 ence in proportion of species is even greater, — still the woods 
 are by no means totally devoid of inhabitants. Most of these 
 I had become acquainted with in Syria, and a few in Egypt. 
 The only birds I had not seen before were a jay and a bullfinch." 
 
 The above letter shows how true the boy was to his marked 
 tastes and his close observation of nature and natural history ! 
 
 After his return from the Bastei my brother's asthma was 
 somewhat less troublesome, and, to show the vital quality which 
 
8o My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 could never be downed, I quote a letter from "Ellie" to his aunt: 
 "Suddenly an idea has got hold of Teedie that we did not know 
 enough German for the time that we have been here, so he has 
 asked Miss Anna, to give him larger lessons and of course I could 
 not be left behind so we are working harder than ever in our 
 lives." How unusual the evidence of leadership is in this 
 yoimg boy of not yet fifteen, who already inspires his pleasure- 
 loving little brother to work "harder than ever before in our 
 lives." Many memories crowd back upon me as I think of those 
 days in the kind CJerman family. The two sons, Herr Oswald 
 and Herr Ulrich, would occasionally return from Leipsig where 
 they were students, and always brought with them an aroma 
 of duels and thrilling excitement. Ulrich, in college, went by 
 the nickname of "Der Rothe Herzog," The Red Duke, the ap- 
 pellation being appUed to him on account of his scarlet hair, his 
 equally rubicund face, and a red gash dowi^ the left side of his 
 face from the sword of an antagonist. Oswald had a very ex- 
 traordinary expression due to the fact that the tip end of his nose 
 had been nearly severed from his face in one of these same, ap- 
 parently, every-day affairs, and the physician who had restored 
 the injured feature to its proper environment had made the mis- 
 take of sewing it a little on the bias, which gave this kind and 
 gentle young man a very sinister expression. In spite of their 
 practice in the art of duelling and a general ferocity of ap-? 
 pearance, they were sentimental to the last extent, and many 
 a time when I have been asked by Herr Oswald and Herr Ulrich 
 to read aloud to them from the dear old books "Gold Elsie" or 
 "Old Mam'selle's Secret," they would fall upon the sofa beside 
 me and dissolve in tears over any melancholy or romantic situa- 
 tion. Their sensibilities and sentimentalities were perfectly in- 
 comprehensible to the somewhat matter-of-fact and distinctly 
 courageous trio of young Americans, and while we could not 
 imderstand the spirit which made them willing, quite casually, 
 to cut off each other's noses, we could even less imderstand their 
 lachrymose response to sentimental tales and their genuine terror 
 
The Dresden Literary American Club 8i 
 
 should a thunder-storm occur. "Ellie" describes in another 
 letter how all the family, in the middle of the night, because of 
 a sudden thunder-storm, crawled in between their mattresses 
 and woke the irrelevant and uninterested small Americans from 
 their slumbers to incite them to the same attitude of mind and 
 body. His description of " Teedie " imder these circumstances is 
 very amusing, for he says : "Teedie woke up only for one minute, 
 turned over and said, 'Oh — it's raining and my hedgehog will 
 be all spoiled.' " He was speaking of a hedgehog that he had 
 skinned the day before and hung out of his window, but even 
 his hedgehog did not keep him awake and, much to the surprise 
 of the frightened Minckwitz family, he fell back into a heavy 
 sleep. 
 
 In spite of the sentimentalities, in spite of the racial differ- 
 ences of attitude about many things, the American children 
 owe much to the literary atmosphere that surrounded the family 
 life of their kind German friends. In those days in Dresden 
 the most beautiful representations of Shakespeare were given 
 in German, and, as the hour for the theatre to begin was six 
 o'clock in the evening, and the plays were finished by nine 
 o'clock, many were the evenings when we enjoyed " Midsiunmer 
 Night's Dream," "Twelfth Night," "The Taming of the Shrew," 
 and many more of Shakespeare's wonderful fanciful creations, 
 given as they were with imusual sympathy and ability by the 
 actors of the German Theatre. 
 
 Perhaps because of our literary studies and our ever-growing 
 interest in our own efforts in the famous Dresden Literary Amer- 
 ican Club, we decided that the volume which became so precious 
 to us should, after all, have no commercial value, and in July I 
 write to my aunt the news which I evidently feel will be a serious 
 blow to her — that we have decided that we cannot seE the poems 
 and stories gathered into that immortal volume ! 
 
 About the middle of the summer there was an epidemic of 
 smallpox in Dresden and my mother hurriedly took us to the 
 Engadine, and there, at Samaden, we lived somewhat the life 
 
82 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 of our beloved Madison and Hudson River days. Our cousin 
 John Elliott accompanied us, and the three boys and their ardent 
 little follower, myself, spent endless happy hours in climbmg 
 
 yfi^gi^'i'^ jf-^ **^ -^yUi^ 
 
 facsimuj: of theodore roosevelts letter 
 
 the surrounding mountains, only occasionally recalled by the 
 lenient "Fraulein Anna" to what were already almost forgotten 
 Teutonic studies. Later we returned to Dresden, and in spite 
 of the longing in our patriotic young hearts to be once more in 
 the land of the Stars and Stripes, I remember that we all parted 
 
The Dresden Literary American Club 83 
 
 with keen regret from the kind family who had made their little 
 American visitors so much at home. 
 
 A couple of letters from Theodore, dated Septeniber 21 and 
 
 r^ ff^^ 
 
 <^ -"yftpco^ 
 
 '^C^'i^ifi^ 
 
 ^% 
 
 
 
 
 OF SEPTEMBER 21, 1873, TO fflS OLDER SISTER] 
 
 October 5, bring to a close the experiences in Dresden, and show 
 in a special way the boy's humor and the original inclin9,tion to 
 the quaint drawings which have become familiar to the Amer- 
 ican people through the book, lately published, called "Theo- 
 dore Roosevelt's Letters to His Children." On September 21, 
 
84 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 1873, he writes to his older sister: "My dear darling Bamie,— 
 I wrote a letter on the receipt of yours, but Corinne lost it and 
 so I write this. Health; good. Lessons; good. Play hours; 
 bad. Appetite; good. Accounts; good. Clothes; greasy. 
 Shoes; holey. Hair; more 'a-la-Mop' than ever. Nails; dirty, 
 in consequence of having an ink bottle upset over them. Li- 
 brary; beautiful. Musetun; so so. Club; splendid. Our 
 journey home from Samaden was beautifvd, except for the fact 
 that we lost our keys but even this incident was not without 
 its pleasing side. I reasoned philosophically on the subject; 
 I said: 'Well, everything is for the best. For example, if I can- 
 not use my tooth brush tonight, at least, I cannot forget it to- 
 morrow morning. Ditto with comb and night shirt.' In these 
 efforts of high art, I have taken particular care to imitate truth- 
 fully the Chignons, bustles, grease-spots, bristles, and especially 
 my own mop of hair. The other day I much horrified the female 
 portion of the Minckwitz Tribe by bringing home a dead bat^ 
 I strongly suspect that they thought I intended to use it as some 
 sorcerer's charm to injure a foe's constitution, mind and ap- 
 petite. As I have no more news to write, I will close with some 
 illustrations on the Darwinian theory. Your brother — ^Teedie." 
 
 The last letter, on October 5, was to his mother, and reads 
 in part as follows: "Corinne has been sick but is now well, at 
 least, she does not have the same striking resemblance to a half- 
 starved raccoon as she did in the severe stages of the disease." 
 After a hiunorous description of a (merman conversation be- 
 tween several members of his aimt's family, he proceeds to "fur- 
 ther illustrations of the Darwinian theory" and closes his letter 
 by signing himself "Your affectionate son, Cranibus Giraffinus." 
 
 Shortly before leaving Dresden I had my twelfth birthday 
 and the Minckwitz clan made every effort to make it a gay fes- 
 tival, but perhaps the gift which I loved best was a letter re- 
 ceived that very morning from my beloved father; and in clos- 
 ing this brief account of those days spent in (iermany, because 
 of his wise decision to broaden our yoimg horizons by new 
 
4f Aiuf' /^^A-f«!e«/ '^ ^t*u^* ^ 
 
 /?. <^ ^ 
 
 M^fT-MC!**!. 
 
 JtUlt 
 
 FACSIMILE OF "SOME ILLUSTRATIONS ON THE DARWINIAN THEORY/f 
 CONTAINED IN THE LETTER OF SEPTEMBER 21, 1873 
 
 8S 
 
•"^ 
 
 
 1/ 
 
 ^WUU)t- 
 
 ii^*' 
 
 Hftif 
 
 FACSIMILE, ON TmS AND OPPOSITE PAGE, OF " FURTHER ILLUSTRATIONS OF 
 
 THE DARWINIAN THEORY," IN HIS LETTER OF OCTOBER 5 
 
 86 
 
,~^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 t1 
 
 JoT' 
 
 OVA 
 
 87 
 
88 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 thoughts and new studies, I wish once more, as I have done sev- 
 eral times in these pages, to quote from his words to the little 
 girl in whom he was trying to instil his own beautiful attitude 
 toward life: "Remember that almost every one will be kiad to 
 you and will love you if you are only willing to receive their love 
 and are unselfish yourself. Unselfishness, you know, is the vir- 
 tue that I put above all others, and while it increases so much 
 the enjoyment of those about you, it adds infinitely more to 
 your own pleasure. Your future, in fact, depends very much 
 upon the cultivation of unselfishness, and I know that my dar- 
 ling little girl wishes to practise this quality, but I do wish to 
 impress upon you its importance. As each year passes by, we 
 ought to look back to see what we have accomplished, and also 
 look forward to the future to make up for any deficiencies show- 
 ing thus a determination to do better, not wasting time in vain 
 regrets." In many ways these words of my father, written when 
 we were so young and so malleable, and impressed upon us by 
 his ever-encouraging example, became one of the great factors 
 in making my brother into the type of man who will always 
 be remembered for that imselfishness instilled into him by his 
 father, and for the determination to do better each day of his 
 life without vain regret for what was already beyond recall. 
 
 Oyster Bay — ^The Happy Land of Woods and Waters 
 
 After our return to America the winter of 1874 was passed 
 at our new home at 6 West 57th Street. My brother was still 
 considered too delicate to send to a boarding-school, and various 
 tutors were engaged for his education, in which my brother El- 
 liott and I shared. Friendships of various kinds were begun 
 and augmented, especially the friendship with the littie girl 
 Edith Carow, our babyhood friend, and another littie girl, 
 Frances Theodora Smith, now Mrs. James Russell Parsons, to 
 whose friendship and comprehension my brother always turned 
 with affectionate appreciation. Inspired by the Dresden Lit- 
 
The Dresden Literary American Club 89 
 
 erary American Club, the female members of our little coterie 
 formed a circle known by the name of P. O. R. E., to which the 
 "boys" were admitted on rare occasions. The P, O. R. E. had 
 also literary ambitions, and they proved a fit sequel to the erudi- 
 tionary D. L. A. C, which originated in the German family! 
 Mr. J. Coleman Drayton, Mr. Charles B. Alexander, and my 
 father were the only honorary members of the P. O. R. E. 
 
 The summer of 1874 proved to be the forerunner of the hap- 
 piest summers of our lives, as my father decided to join the 
 colony which had been started by his family at Oyster Bay, 
 Long Island, and we rented a country place which, much to 
 the amusement of our friends, we named "Tranquillity." Any- 
 thing less tranquil than that happy home at Oj^ter Bay could 
 hardly be imagined. Endless young cousins and friends of both 
 sexes and of every kind of varied interest always filled the simple 
 rooms and shared the delightful and unconventional life which 
 we led in that enchanted spot. Again I cannot say too much 
 of the way in which our parents allowed us liberty without 
 license. During those years — ^when Theodore was fifteen, ax- 
 teen, and seventeen — every special delight seems connected 
 with Oyster Bay. We took long rides on horseback through 
 the lanes then so seemingly remote, so far from the thought of 
 the broad highways which now are traversed by thousands of 
 motors, but were then the scenes of picnics and every imaginable 
 spree. Our parents encouraged all mental and physical activity 
 and having, as I say, a large circle of young cousins settled around 
 us, we ^ere never at a loss for companionship. One of our great- 
 est delights was to take the small rowboats with which we were 
 provided and row away for long days of happy leisure to what 
 then seemed a somewhat distant spot on the other side of the 
 bay, called Yellow Banks, where we would have our picnic lunch 
 and cHmb Cooper's Bluff, and read aloud or indulge in poetry 
 contests and games which afforded us infinite amusement. One 
 of our favorite games was called Crambo, We each wrote a 
 question and each wrote a word, then all the words were put into 
 
go My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 one Bat and all the questions into another, and after each child 
 had drawn a question and a word, he or she was obliged to 
 answer the question and bring in the word in a verse. Amongst 
 my papers I find some of the old poetic efforts of those happy 
 simmier days. One is dated Plum Point, Oyster Bay, 1875. I 
 remember the day as if it were yesterday; Theodore, who loved 
 to row in the hottest sun, over the roughest water, in the smallest 
 boat, had chosen his friend Edith as a companion; my cousin 
 West Roosevelt, the "Jimmie" of earlier childhood, whose love 
 of science and natural history was one of the joys that Theo- 
 dore found in his companionship, took as his companion my 
 friend Fannie Smith, now Mrs. Parsons, and my brother Elliott 
 and I made up the happy six. Lying on the soft sand of the 
 Point after a jolly luncheon, we played our favorite game, and 
 Theodore drew the question: "Why does West enjoy such a 
 dirty picnic?" The word which he drew was "golosh," and 
 written on the other side of the paper in his own boyish hand- 
 writing is his attempt to assimilate the query and the word ! 
 
 "Because it is his nature to. 
 He finds his idyl in the dirt, 
 And if you do not S)Tnpathize 
 But find yours in some saucy flirt. 
 Why that is your aflFair you know, 
 It's like the choosing a (?) golosh, 
 You doat upon a pretty face. 
 He takes to carrots and hogwash." 
 
 Perhaps this sample of early verse may have led him later 
 into other paths than poetry ! 
 
 We did not always indulge in anything as light and humorous 
 as the above example of poetic fervor. I have in my possession 
 all kinds of competitive essays— on William Wordsworth, Wash- 
 ington Irving, and Plutarch's "Lives," written by various mem- 
 bers of the happy group of young people at Oyster Bay; but 
 when not indulging in these literary efforts "Teedie' 
 
The Dresden Literary American Club 91 
 
 ways studying his beloved natural history. At that time in his 
 life he became more and more determined to take up this study 
 as an actual career. My father had many serious talks with 
 
 ^■^ccuae t^t' <A^ -^ ^(xCtvtc 
 
 (n^oil 
 
 
 FACSIMn.E OF VERSES BY THEODORE ROOSEVELT FOR A FAVORITE GAME 
 
 him on the subject. He impressed the boy with the feeling that, 
 if he should thus decide upon a career which of necessity could 
 not be lucrative, it would mean the sacrifice of many of the plea- 
 sures of which our parents' environment had enabled us to par- 
 
92 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 take. My father, however, also told the earnest young natural- 
 ist that he would provide a small income for him, enabling >him 
 to live simply, should he decide to give himself up to scientific 
 research work as the object of his life. During all those summers 
 at Oyster Bay and the winters in New York City, before going 
 to college, "Teedie" worked along the line of his chief interest 
 with a very definite determination to devote himself perma- 
 nently to that type of study. Our parents realized fully the 
 unusual quality of their son, they recognized the strength and 
 power of his diaracter, the focussed and reasoning superiority 
 of his mentality, but I do not think they fully realized the ex- 
 traordinary quality of leadership which, hitherto somewhat 
 hampered by his ill health, was later to prove so great a factor, 
 not only in the circle of his immediate family and friends but in 
 the broiader field of the whole coxmtry. He was growing stronger 
 day by day; already he had learned from those fine lumber- 
 men, "Will Dow" and *'Bill Sewall," who were his guides on 
 long hunting trips in the Maine woods, how to endure hardship 
 and how to use his rifie as an adept and his paddle as an expert. 
 
 His body, answering to the insistence of his character, was 
 growing stronger day by day, and was soon to be an instrument 
 of iron to use in the future years. 
 
 Mr. Arthur Cutler was engaged by my parents to be at 
 Oyster Bay during these summers to superintend the studies 
 of the two boys, and with his able assistance my brother was 
 well prepared for Harvard College, which he entered in Sep- 
 tember, 1876. It seems almost incredible that the puny, deli- 
 cate child, so suffering even three years before, could have started 
 his college life the peer, from a ph3rsical standpoint, of any of his 
 classmates. A light-weight boxer, a swift runner, and in every 
 way fitted to take his place, physically as weU as mentally, in 
 the arena of college life, he entered Harvard CoUege. 
 
 In looking back over our early childhood there stands out 
 clearly before me, as the most important asset of the atmosphere 
 of our home, the joy of life, combined with an earnest effort for 
 

 Pi 
 
 J3 
 
 w 
 
 
The Dresden Literary American Club 93 
 
 spiritual and intellectual benefit. As I write I can hear my 
 father's voice calling us to early "Morning Prayers" which it 
 was his invariable custom to read just before breakfast. Even 
 this religious service was entered into with the same joyous zest 
 which my father had the power of putting into every act of his 
 life, and he had imbued us with the feeling that it was a privilege 
 rather than a duty to be present, and that also the place of honor 
 while we listened to the reading of the Bible was the seat on the 
 sofa between him and the end of the sofa. When we were little 
 children in the nursery, as he called to us to come to prayers, 
 there would be a universal shout of "I speak for you and the 
 cubby-hole too," the "cubby-hole" being this much-desired 
 seat; and as my brother grew to man's estate these happy and 
 yet serious memories were so much a part of him that when the 
 boy of eighteen left Oyster Bay that September afternoon in 
 1876, to take up the new life which the entrance into college 
 always means for a young man, he took with him as the heritage 
 of his boyhood not only keen joy in the panorama of life which 
 now imroUed before him but the sense of duty to be performed, 
 of opportunity to be sdzed, of high resolve to be squared with 
 practical and eflfective action, all of which had been part of the 
 teaching of his father, the first Theodore Roosevelt. 
 
IV 
 COLLEGE CHUMS AND NEW-FOUND LEADERSHIP 
 
 DURING the winter and summer of 1876, preceding that 
 September when Theodore Roosevelt left his home for 
 Harvard College, he had entered more fully into the 
 social life of the boys and girls of his immediate acquaintance. 
 As a very young boy, there was something of the recluse about 
 him, although in his actual family (and that family included a 
 number of cousins) he was always the ringleader. His delicate, 
 health and his ahnost abnormal literary and scientific tastes 
 had isolated him somewhat from the hurly-burly of ordinary 
 school life, and even ordinary vacation life; but during the win- 
 ter of 1876 he had enjoyed to the full a dancing-class which my 
 mother had organized the winter before, and that dancing-class 
 sowed the seeds of many friendships. The Livingston, Clark- 
 son, Potter, and Rutherfurd boys, and amongst the girls my 
 friends Edith Carow, Grace Potter, Fannie Smithy Annie Mur- 
 ray, and myself, formed the nucleus in this dancing-cldss, and 
 the informal "Germans" (as they were called in those days) 
 and all the merriment connected with happy skating-parties 
 and spring picnics in Central Park cemented relationships which 
 lasted faithfully through later days. My brother EUiott, more 
 naturally a social leader, influenced the young naturalist to 
 greater interest in his humankind, and when the spring merged 
 into happy summer at Oyster Bay, Theodore was already show- 
 ing a keener pleasure in intercourse with yoimg people of his 
 own age. 
 
 In a letter to "Edith" early in the summer, I write of an 
 expedition which he took across the bay to visit another girl 
 friend. He started at five o'clock in the morning and reached 
 
 94 
 
College Chums 95 
 
 the other shore at eight o'clock. Thinking it too early to pay 
 a call, he lay down on a large rock and went to sleep, waking up 
 to find his boat had drifted far away. When he put on his spec- 
 tacles he could see the boat at a distance, but, of course, did 
 not wish to swim with his clothes on, and decided to remove 
 them temporarily. Having secured the boat, he forgot that 
 it might be wise to put on his clothes before sleeping again under 
 the dock. To his perfect horror, waking suddenly about an 
 hour later, the boat, clothes, and all had vanished. At the same 
 moment he heard the footsteps of his fair inamorata on the 
 -wooden planks of the dock above his head. She had walked 
 down with a friend to greet the admirer whom she expected at 
 about nine o'clock. His description of his feelinjgs as he lay shiv- 
 ering, though not from cold, while above him they cahnly dis- 
 cussed his probable arrival and the fact that they thought they 
 would wait there to greet him, can probably be imagined. The 
 girls, after a period of long waiting, walked away into the woods, 
 and the self-conscious yoimg man proceeded to swim down a 
 hidden creek where he thought the tide had taken his recalcitrant 
 boat, and where, sure enough, he foimd it. The sequel to this 
 little story throws much light on masculine human nature, for 
 he conceived an aversion to the lady who so unconsciously had 
 put him in this foolish position, and rowed defiantly back to 
 Oyster Bay without paying the proposed visit ! 
 
 During that simimer my father, who always gave his chil- 
 dren such delightful surprises, drilled us himself in a little play 
 called "To Oblige Benson," in which Theodore took the part 
 of an irascible and absent-minded farmer, and our beloved cousin 
 John Elliott the part of an impassioned lover, while my friend 
 Fannie Smith and I were the heroines of the adventures. My 
 father's efforts to make Theodore into a farmer and John into 
 a lover were commendable though not eminently successful, 
 but all that he did for us in those ways gave to his children a 
 certain ease in writing and speaking which were to be of great 
 value in later years. Fannie Smith, to show how Theodore 
 
96 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 still dominated the little circle from the standpoint of intellect, 
 writes that same July: "I have no power to write sensibly to- 
 day. If I were writing to Theodore I would have to say some- 
 thing of this kind, 'I have enjoyed Plutarch's last essay on the 
 philosophy of Diogenes excessively.' " In his early college days, 
 however, he seems temporarily to put the "philosophy of Di- 
 ogenes" aside, and to become a very normal, simple, pleasure- 
 loving youth, who, however, always retained his earnest moral 
 purpose and his realization that education was a tool for future 
 experience, and, therefore, not to be neglected. 
 
 He writes on November 26, 1876: "I now belong to another 
 whist club, composed of Harry Minot, Dick Saltonstall and a 
 few others. They are very quiet fellows but also very pleasant. 
 Harry Minot was speaking to me the other day about our making 
 a collecting trip in the White Mountains together next summer. 
 I think it would be good fxm." The result of that collecting trip 
 will be shown a little later in this chapter. On December 14 
 he writes again: "Darling Pussie [his pet name for me] : I ought 
 to have written you long ago but I am now having examina- 
 tions all the time, and am so occupied ia studying for them that 
 I have very little time for myself, and you know how long it 
 takes me to write a letter. My only excitement lately has been 
 the dancing class which is very pleasant. I may as well describe 
 a few of my chief friends." He then gives an account of his 
 specialty intimate companions, and speaks as follows of one 
 whose name has become prominent in the aimals of his coun- 
 try's history as able financier, secretary of state, and colonel 
 in the American Expeditionary Force — ^Robert Bacon: "Bob 
 Bacon is the handsomest man in the class and is as pleasant 
 as he is handsome. He is only sixteen, but is very large." He 
 continues to say that he would love to bring home a few of his 
 friends at Christmas time, and concludes: "I should like a party 
 very much if it is perfectly convenient." The party proved a 
 delightful Christmas experience, and the New York girls and 
 Boston boys fraternized to their hearts' content. On his return 
 
College Chums 97 
 
 to Cambridge after these Christmas holidays he writes one of 
 his amusing, characteristic little notes, interspersed with quaint 
 drawings. "Darling Pussie: I delivered your two notes safely 
 and had a very pleasant journey on in the cars. To drown my 
 grief at parting from you all, I took refuge, not in the flowing 
 bowl, but in the Atlantic Monthly and Harper's Magazine — not 
 to mention squab sandwiches. A journey in the cars always 
 renders me sufficiently degraded to enjoy even the love stories 
 in the latter magazine. I think that if I was forced to travel 
 across the continent, towards the end of my journey, I should 
 read dime novels with avidity. Good-bye darUng. Your loving 
 Tedo." 
 
 The signature was followed by accurate representations of 
 Harper's Magazine, Atlantic Monthly, and the squab sandwich, 
 which he labels "my three consolations" ! 
 
 A letter dated February 5, 1877, shows the Boston of those 
 da)^ in a very pleasant light. He begins: "Little Pussie: I 
 have had a very pleasant time this week as, in fact, I have every 
 week. It was cram week for * Conic Sections ' but, by usiag most 
 of my days for study, I had two evenings, besides Saturday, 
 free. On Wednesday evening, Harry Jackson gave a large sleigh- 
 ing party; this was great fun for there were forty girls and fel- 
 lows and two matrons in two huge sleighs. We sang songs for 
 a great part of the time for we soon left Boston and were dragged 
 by our eight horses rapidly through a great many of the pretty 
 little towns which form the suburbs of Boston. One of the girls 
 looked quite like Edith only not nearly as pretty as her lady- 
 ship. We came home from our sleigh ride about nine and then 
 danced until after twelve. I led the German with Harry Jack- 
 son's cousin. Miss Andrews. After the party. Bob Bacon, Ar- 
 thur Hooper, myself and some other-s, came out in a small sleigh 
 to Cambridge, making night hideous with our songs. On Satur- 
 day I went with Minot Weld to an Assembly (a juvenile one I 
 mean) at Brooldine. This was a very swell affair, there being 
 about sixty couples in the room. I enjoyed myself very much 
 
98 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 indeed. ... I came home today in time for my Simday-school 
 class; I am beginning to get very much interested in my scholars, 
 especially in one who is a very orderly and bright little fellow 
 — two qualities which I have not usually found combined^ 
 Thank Father for his dear fetter. Your loving brother, Ted." 
 
 The above letter shows how normal a life the young man 
 was leading, how simply and naturally he was responding to 
 the friendly hospitality of his new Boston friends. Boston had 
 welcomed him originally for the sake of his older sister, who, 
 during two charming summer visits to Bar Harbor, Maine, had 
 made many New England friends. The Sunday-school which 
 he mentions, and to which he gave himself very faithfully, proved 
 a big test of character, for it was a great temptation to go with 
 the other fellows on Saturday afternoons to Chestnut Hill or 
 Brookline or Milton, where open house was kept by the Lees, 
 Saltonstalls, Whitne)^, and other friends, and it was very hard 
 either to refuse their invitation from the beginning or to leave 
 the merry parties early Sunday morning and return to Cam- 
 bridge to be at his post to teach the unruly little people of the 
 slums of Cambridge. So deeply, however, had the first Theodore 
 Roosevelt impressed his son with the necessity of giving himself 
 and the attainments with which his superior advantages had 
 endowed him to those less fortimate than he, that all through 
 the first three years of his college life he only failed to appear 
 at his Sunday-school class twice, and then he arranged to have 
 his class taken by a friend. Truly, when he put his hand to the 
 plough he never turned back. 
 
 On March 27 of his first year at college he writes again in 
 his usual sweet way to his younger sister: "Little Pet Pussie: 
 95 per cent will help my average. I want to pet you again aw- 
 fully ! You cunning, pretty, little, foolish Puss. My easy chair 
 would just hold myself and Pussie." Again on April 15: "Little 
 Pussie: Having given Motherling an account of my doings up 
 to yesterday, I have reserved the more frivolous part for little 
 pet Pussie. Yesterday, m the afternoon, Minot Weid drove 
 
College Chums 99 
 
 me over to his house and at six o'clock we sallied forth in festive 
 attire to a matinee 'German' at Dorchester which broke up 
 before eleven o'clock. This was quite a swell affair, there being 
 about 100 couples. ... I spent last night with the Welds and 
 walked back over here to Forest Hill with Minot in the after- 
 noon, collecting a dozen snakes and salamanders on the way." 
 Still the natural historian, even although on pleasure bent; so 
 snakes and salamanders hold their own in spite of "swell mat- 
 inee Germans." From Forest Hill that same Sunday he writes 
 a more serious letter to his father : "Darling Father : I am spend- 
 ing my Easter vacation with the Minots, who, with their usual 
 kindness, asked me to do so. I did not go home for I knew I 
 should never be able to study there. I have been working pretty 
 steadily, having finished during the last five days, the first book 
 of Horace, the sixth book of Homer, and the 'Apology of Soc- 
 rates.' In the afternoon, some of the boys usually come out 
 to see me and we spend that time in the open air, and on Satur- 
 day evening I went to a party, but during the rest of the time 
 I have been working pretty faithfully. I spent today, Sunday, 
 with the Welds and went to their church where, although it was 
 a Unitarian Church, I heard a really remarkably good sermon 
 about 'The Attributes of a Christian.' I have enjoyed all your 
 letters very much and my conscience reproaches me greatly 
 for not writing you before, but as you may imagiae, I have had 
 to study pretty hard to make up for lost time, and a letter with 
 me is very serious work. Your loving son, T. R. Jr." 
 
 On June 3, as his class day approaches., and after a visit to 
 Cambridge on the part of my father, who had given me and my 
 sister and friends Edith Carow and Maud Elliott the treat of 
 accompanying him, Theodore writes: "Sweet Pussie: I en- 
 joyed your visit so much and so did all of my friends. I am so 
 glad you like my room, and next year I hope to have it even 
 prettier when you all come on again." His first class day was 
 not specially notable, but he finished his freshman year standing 
 high in his class and having made a number of good friends. 
 
lOO My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 although at that period I do not think that he was in any marked 
 degree a leader amongst the young men of the class. He was 
 regarded more as an all-round good sport, a fellow of high ideals 
 from which he never swerved, and one at whom his companions, 
 who, except Harry Minot, had not very strong literary affilia- 
 tions, were always more or less surprised because of the way in 
 which their otherwise perfectly normal comrade sank into com- 
 plete oblivion when the magic pages of a book were unrolled 
 before him. 
 
 That summer, shortly after class day, he and Harry Minot 
 took their expedition to the Adirondacks with the following re- 
 sults, namely: a catalogue written in the mountains of "The 
 Summer Birds of the Adirondacks in Franklin County, N. Y., 
 by Theodore Roosevelt, Jr., and H. D. Minot." This catalogue 
 was sent to me by Mr. John D. Sherman, Jr., of Mt. Vernon, 
 N. Y. He tells me that it was originally published in 1877 and 
 favorably mentioned soon after publication in the NuUail Bul- 
 Utin. Mr. Sherman thinks that the paper was "privately" 
 published, and it was printed by Samuel E. Casino, of Salem, 
 who, when a mere boy, started in the natural-history-book busi- 
 ness. The catalogue shows such careful observation and such 
 perseverance in the accumulation of data by the two young col- 
 lege boys that I think the first page worthy of reproduction as 
 one of the early evidences of the careful study Theodore Roose- 
 velt had given to the subject which always remained through- 
 out his life one of the nearest to his heart. 
 
 His love of poetry in those days became a very living thing, 
 and the simuner following his first college year was one in which 
 the young people of Oyster Bay turned with glad interest to the 
 riches not only of nature but of literature as well. I find among 
 my papers, painstakingly copied in red ink in my brother's hand- 
 writing, Swinburne's poem "The Forsaken Garden." He had 
 sent it to me, copying it from memory when on a trip to the 
 Maine woods. Later, on his return, we would row by moon- 
 light to "Cooper's Bluff" (near which spot he was eventually 
 
•FHB SITHMEB BIBDS 
 OF THE ADIROin>AOKS IN FBANKLm OOtrNTT," NT Y. 
 
 'Bt TBBOOOBB BOOSEVELT, Jb., ass H. D. IflNOT 
 
 The following catalogne (written in the moantains) Is based npon ob- 
 servations made In Angnist, 1874, Angost, 1875, and Jane 22d to July 9th, 
 1S77, especially abont the Saint Begis Lakes, Mr. Mlnot having been with 
 me, only during the.last week of Jane. Each of us has used his initials 
 in making a statement wlUch the other has not verified. 
 
 Thxodobb Roosevelt, Jr. v 
 
 The general features of the Adirondacks, iit those t>arts whl^ we have 
 examined,' are the many lakes, the absence of mountain-brooks, the luxu- 
 riant forest-growth (the taller deciduous trees often reaching the height, 
 of a hundred feet, and the White Fines even that of a hundred and thirty), 
 the sandy soil, the cool, invigorating air, and both a decided wUdness and 
 levelness of country as compared with the diversity of the White Moun- 
 tain region. 
 
 The avifauna \A not so rich as that of the latter country, because want- 
 ing in certain "Alleghanian" birds found there, and also in species 
 belonging especially to the Eastern or North-eastern Canadian fauna. 
 Nests, moreover, seem to be more commonly inaccessible, and rarely 
 built beside roads or wood-paths, as they often are in the White Moun- 
 tains. M. 
 
 1. Bobin. Turdus migratoritis (Linnsus). Moderately common. 
 Sometimes fonndin the woods. 
 
 2. Hermit Thraah. Tardus Palldsi (Cabanis). Common. Sings 
 until the middle of August (B.). 
 
 3. Swainson's Thrash. Turdus Stuainsoni (jCaba.jtia'). The com- 
 monest thrush. 
 
 4. Gat-bird. Mmus CaroUitengts (tAanseas). Observed beyond the, 
 mountains to the northward, near Malone. 
 
 6. Blue Bird. Sialia iialis (Linnieas). Common near Malone. 
 
 e. Oelden-crowned "Wren." Begulns satrapa (Li<ibten.). Quite 
 common; often heard singing in June. 
 
 7. Chickadee. Pans atricapillus (Linnsus). Rather scarce in 
 ^nne. Abundant in August (S.). 
 
 8i Hudsonlan Chickadee. Farug Htidsonicus (Forster). Found 
 In small flocks at Bay Fond in the early pact of August (R.). 
 
 8. Bed-bellied Nuthatch. Sitta Canadensis (Linnsus). Common. 
 The White-bellied Nuthatch has not been observed here by us. 
 
 10. Brown Creeper. Certhia familiaris (Linnsus). Common. 
 U. Winter Wren. Troglodytes hyemalis (Vieillot). Moderately 
 common. 
 
 FACSIMILE OF THE FIRST PAGE OF THE "CATALOGUE OF SUMMER BIRDS," 
 MADE IN 1877 BY THEODORE ROOSEVELT, Jr.. AND H. D. MINOT 
 
I02 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 to build his beloved home, Sagamore Hill), and there, having 
 climbed the sandy bulwark, we would sit on the top of the ledge 
 looking out on the shimmering waters of the Soimd, and he would 
 recite with a lilting swing in the tone of his voice which matched 
 the rhythm of the words: 
 
 "In a coign of the cliff between lowland and highland. 
 By the sea down's edge, twixt windward and lee, 
 Walled roimd by rocks like an inland island, 
 The ghost of a garden fronts the sea. 
 A girdle of brush-wood and thorn encloses 
 The steep-scarred slope of the blossomless bed. 
 Where the weeds that grew green from the graves of its roses— 
 Now lie dead." 
 
 He always loved the rhythm of Swinburne, just as he loved later 
 the wonderful ringing lines of Kipling, which he taught to his 
 children and constantly repeated to himself. 
 
 In the summer of 1877 the two brothers, Elliott and Theo- 
 dore, decided to row from Osrster Bay in their small boats to 
 Whitestone, near Flushing, where my aunt Mrs. Gracie was 
 living in an old farmhouse. EUiott was really the sailor of the 
 family, an expert sailor, too, and loved to manage his 20-footer, 
 with able hand, in the stormiest weather, but Theodore craved 
 the actual effort of the arms and back, the actual sense of meet- 
 ing the wave close to and not from the more sheltered angle of 
 a sailboat; and so the two yoimg brothers who were perfectly 
 devoted to each other started on the more adventurous trip 
 together. They were caught in one of the sudden storms of the 
 Long Island Soxmd, and their frail boats were very nearly 
 swamped, but the luck which later became with Theodore Roose- 
 velt almost proverbial, was with them, and the two exhausted 
 and bedraggled, wave-beaten boys arrived sorely in need of the 
 care of the devoted aunt who, as much as in the days when she 
 taught their A B C's to the children of the nursery of 20th Street, 
 was stUl their guardian angel. 
 
College Chums 103 
 
 In September, 1877, Theodore returns as a sophomore to 
 Cambridge and writes in October again: " Sweet Pussie: Thank 
 you ever so much, darling, for the three, cunning, little books 
 which I am going to call my 'Pussie Books.' They were just 
 what I wanted. In answer to your question, I may say that it 
 does not seem to make the slightest difference to Brooks and 
 Hooper that they have been dropped, although Brooks is uni- 
 versally called 'Freshie.' My respect for the qualities of my 
 classmates has much increased lately, by the way, as they now 
 no longer seem to think it necessary to confine their conversation 
 exclusively to athletic subjects. I was especially struck by this 
 the other night, when, after a couple of hours spent in boxing 
 and wrestling with Arthur Hooper and Ralph Ellis, it was pro- 
 posed to finish the evening by reading aloud from Tennyson 
 and we became so interested in 'In Memoriam' that it was past 
 one o'clock when we separated." (Evidently the lover of books 
 was beginning to be a leader in making his associates share his 
 love of the poets.) 
 
 In November he writes again: "I sat up last night until 
 twelve, reading 'Poems & Poets'; some of the boys came down 
 to my room and we had a literary coffee party. They became 
 finally interested in Edgar Poe — ^probably because they could 
 not understand him." My brother always had a great admira- 
 tion for Edgar Allan Poe, and would chant "The Raven" and 
 "Ulalume" in a strange, rather weird, monotonous tone. He 
 especially delighted in the reference to "the Dank Tarn of Au- 
 ber" and the following lines: 
 
 "I knew not the month was October, 
 I knew not the day of the year, — " 
 
 Poe's rhythm and curious, suggestive, melancholy quality 
 of perfection affected strongly his imagination, and he placed 
 him high in rank amongst the poets of his time. 
 
 One can picture the young men, strong and vigorous, wres- 
 tling and boxing together in Theodore Roosevelt's room, and 
 
J04 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 then putting aside their athletic contests, making their coflFee 
 vdth gay nonchalance, and settling down to a night of poetry, led 
 in the paths of literature by the blue-eyed young "Berserker," 
 as my mother used to call Theodore in those college days. 
 
 During the summer of 1877 my father accompanied my sister 
 Anna to Bar Harbor on one of her annual excursions to that 
 picturesque part of the Maine coast, where they visited Mr. 
 George Minot and his sisters. He writes to my mother in his 
 usual vein of delightful interest in people, books, and nature, 
 and seems more vigorous than ever, for he describes wonderful 
 walks over the mountains and speaks of having achieved a repu- 
 tation as a mountain-climber. How little any of the family 
 who adored liim realized that from a strain engendered by that 
 climbing the seed of serious trouble had been sown in that splen- 
 did mechanism, and that in a few short months the vigorous 
 and still yoimg man of forty-six was to lay down that useful life 
 which had been given so ardently and unselfishly for the good 
 of his city and the joy and benefit of his family. 
 
 At this time, however, when Theodore went back to college 
 as a sophomore, there was no apprehension about my father's 
 health, and the first term of the college year was passed in his 
 usual happy activities. 
 
 Shortly after the New Year my father's condition became 
 serious, due to intestinal trouble, and the following weeks were 
 passed in anxious nursing, the distress of which was greatly ac- 
 centuated by the frightful suffering of the patient, who, how- 
 ever, in spite of constant agony, bore the sudden shattering of 
 his wonderful health with magnificent courage. My brother 
 Theodore could not realize, as did my brother Elliott, who was 
 at home, the serious condition of our father, for it was deemed 
 best that he should not return from college, where difficult ex- 
 aminations required all his application and energy. Elliott 
 gave unstintedly a devotion which was so tender that it was 
 more like that of a woman, and his yoimg strength was poured 
 out to help his father's condition. The best ph3rsicians searched 
 
College Chums 105 
 
 in vain for remedy for the hidden trouble, but in spite of all their 
 efforts the first Theodore Roosevelt died, February 9, 1878, 
 and the gay young college sophomore was recalled to a house of 
 mourning. In spite of the sorrow, in spite of a sense of irrep- 
 arable loss, there was something infinitely inspiring in the days 
 preceding and following my father's death. When New York 
 City knew that its benefactor lay in extreme illness, it seemed as 
 if the whole dty came to the door of his home to ask news of 
 him. How well I remember the day before his death, when the 
 papers had announced that there was but little hope of his 
 recovery. The crowd of individuals who fiUed syth Street in 
 their effort to hear the physicians' bulletin concerning his condi- 
 tion was huge and varied. Newsboys from the West Side Lodg- 
 ing House, little Italian girls from his Sunday-school' class, sat 
 for hours on the stone steps of 6 West 57th Street, our second 
 home, waiting with anxious intensity for news of the man who 
 meant more to them than any other human being had ever 
 meant before; and those more fortunate ones who had known 
 him in another way drove imceasingly up in their carriages to 
 the door and looked with sympathetic interest at the children 
 of the slums who shared with them such a sense of bitter be- 
 reavement and loss in the premature death of one so closely 
 connected with all sides of his beloved native city. 
 
 Meanwhile, the family of the first Theodore Roosevelt seemed 
 hardly able to face the blank that life meant when he left them, 
 but they also felt that the man who had preached always that 
 "one must live for the living" would have wished "his own" 
 to foUow out his ideal of life, and so each one of us took up, as 
 bravely as we could, our special duties and felt that our close 
 family tie must be made stronger rather than weaker by the 
 loss that we had sustained. 
 
 On March 3, 1878, my brother writes from Cambridge: 
 
 My own darling, sweet, little treasure of a Pussie: Oh! I 
 have so longed for you at times during the last few days. Dar- 
 
io6 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 ling one, you can hardly know what an inestimable blessing to 
 a fellow it is to have such a home as I have. Even now that 
 our dear father has been taken away, it is such a great pleasure 
 to look forward to a visit home; and indeed, he has only 'gone 
 before,' and oh! what living and loving memories he has left 
 behind him. I can feel his presence sometimes when I am sitting 
 alone in the evening; I have not felt nearly as sad as I expected 
 to feel, although, of course, there are every now and then very 
 bitter moments. I am going to bring home some of his sweet 
 letters to show you. I shall always keep them, if merely as talis- 
 mans against evil. Kiss little mother for me, and my love to 
 Aunt Susie and Uncle Hill. [My mother and I were staying in 
 Philadelphia with my aunt Mrs. West.] Tell the latter, Uncle 
 Hill, I am looking forward to spending a month of nude hap- 
 piness with him next summer among the wilds of Oyster Bay. 
 
 Your loving Teddy. 
 
 When my brother speaks of keeping my father's letters to 
 liim as "talismans against evil," he not only expressed the feel- 
 ing of desire to keep near him always the actual letters written 
 by my father, but far more the spirit with which these letters 
 are permeated. Years afterward, when the college boy of 1878 
 was entering upon his duties as President of the United States, 
 he told me frequently that he never took any serious step or 
 made any vital decision for his country without thinking first 
 what position his father would have taken on the question. The 
 day that he moved into the White House happened to be Sep- 
 tember 22, the day of my father's birth, and dining with him 
 that night in the White House for the first time, we all men- 
 tioned this fact and felt that it was a good omen for the future, 
 and my brother said that every time he dated a letter that day 
 he felt with a glow of tender memory the realization that it was 
 his father's birthday, and that his father's blessing seemed spe- 
 cially to foUow him on that first day when he made his home in 
 the beautiful old white mansion which stands in the heart of 
 
College Chums 107 
 
 America for all that America means to her sons and daugh- 
 ters. 
 
 Several other equally loving letters in that March of 1878 
 proved how the constant thoughts of the young sophomore 
 turned to the family at home, and also his own sense of loss 
 in his father's death, but I think the many interests and normal 
 surroundings brought their healing power to the boy of nineteen, 
 and at the end of that year of his college life he had become a 
 well-rounded character. His mind, intelligently focussed upon 
 many intellectual subjects, had broadened in scope, and physi- 
 cally he was no longer the delicate, dreamy boy of earlier dajrs. 
 The period of his college life, although not one of as unusual 
 interest as perhaps other periods in his life, was of inestimable 
 value in the forming of his character. Had Theodore Roose- 
 velt continued to be abnormally developed along the scientific 
 and intellectual side of his nature, he would never have become 
 the "All-American" which he was destined to be. It was neces- 
 sary for In'm to fall into more commonplace grooves; it was 
 necessary for him to meet the yoxmg men of his age on common 
 groxmd, to get the "give-and-take" of a life very different from 
 the more or less individual Kfe which, owing to his ill health and 
 intellectual aspirations, he had hitherto led, and already, by the 
 end of the second year of college, he was beginning to take a 
 place in the circle of his friends which showed in an embryonic 
 way the leadership which later was to be so strongly evidenced. 
 
 On October 8, 1878, returning to Cambridge as a junior, he 
 writes to his mother: "Darling, beloved, little motherling: I 
 have just loved your dear, funny, pathetic, little letter, and I 
 am now going to write you the longest letter I ever write, and 
 if it is still rather short, you must recollect that it takes Teddy- 
 boy a long time to write. I have enjoyed Charlie Dickey's being 
 here extremely, and I think I laave been of some service to him. 
 We alwa}rs go to prayers together; for his own sake, I have not 
 been much with him in the daytime, but every evening, we spend 
 a good part of the time together in my room or his. He is just 
 
io8 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 the same, honest, fine fellow as ever, and unless I am very much 
 mistaken, is going to make a thorough success in every way of 
 college. My stu(Ues do not come very well this year, as I have 
 to work nearly as hard on Saturday as on any other day— six, 
 seven or eight hours. Some of the studies are extremely iaterest- 
 ing, however, especially Political Economy and Metaphjrsics. 
 These are both rather hard, requiring a good deal of work, but 
 they are even more interesting than my Natural History courses; 
 and all the more so from the fact that I radically disagree on 
 many points with the men whose books we are reading, (MiU 
 and Ferrier). One of my zoological courses is rather dry, but 
 the other I like very much, though it necessitates ten or twelve 
 hours' work a week. My (Jerman is not very interesting, but I 
 expect that my Italian will be when I get further on. For exer- 
 cise, I have had to rely on walking, but today I have regularly 
 begun sparring. I practice a good deal with the rifle, walking 
 to and from the range, which is nearly three miles off; my scores 
 have been fair, although not very good. Funnily enough, I 
 have enjoyed quite a burst of popularity since I came back, 
 having been elected into several diBEerent clubs. My own friends 
 have, as usual, been perfect trumps, and I have been asked to 
 spend Sundays with at least a half-dozen of them, but I have 
 to come back to Cambridge Sunday mornings on account of 
 Sunday School, which makes it more difficult to pay visits. I 
 indulged in a luxury the other day ia buying 'The Library of 
 British Poets,' and I delight in my purchase very much, but I 
 have been so busy that I have hardly had time to read it yet. 
 I shall really have to have a new bookcase for I have nowhere 
 to put my books. . . . Your loving son, T. Jr." 
 
 The above letter is of distinct interest for several reasons: 
 first of all, because of the affectionate pains taken by the yowag 
 man of now nearly twenty to keep his mother informed about 
 all his activities, intellectual, physical, and social. So many 
 young men of that age are careless of the great interest taken 
 by their mothers and do not share with them the joys and dif- 
 ficulties of college life. All through his life, from his boj^ood 
 
College Chums 109 
 
 to the very last weeks of his busy existence, my brother Theodore 
 was a great sharer. This is all the more miusual because, as a 
 rule, the man of intellectual pursuits is apt to deny himself to 
 the claims of family and friends, but not so with Theodore Roose- 
 velt, except during the period of some specially hard task, when 
 he would give himself to it to the exclusion of every other in- 
 terest. Unless during such rare periods, no member of his family 
 ever went to him for guidance or solace or interest without the 
 most generous and most loving response. In the above letter he 
 shows his response to the tender inquiries of his mother, so lately 
 widowed, and he wishes to give her all the information that 
 she desires. One can see that the young junior, as he now was, 
 was coming into his own in more ways than one. He is working 
 harder intellectually; already metaphysics and political econo- 
 my are catching up with "natural history" in his affections, and, 
 in fact, outdistancing the latter. His individual point of view 
 is shown by the fact that he "radically disagrees on many points 
 with Mill and Ferrier," and he again shows the persevering de- 
 termination, so largely a part of his character, in the way in 
 which he walks to and fro the three miles to practise with his 
 rifle at the range. The modest way in which he speaks' of his 
 "burst of popularity" is also very characteristic, for he received 
 the unusual distinction of being invited to join several of the 
 most popular clubs. Altogether, this letter in which he tells, 
 although he makes no point of it, of his still faithful service at 
 Sunday-school, no matter how much it interferes with the gay 
 week-end visits which he so much enjoys, and the glimpse which 
 he gives us of his love of poetry as an offset to his harder 
 studies, seems to me to depict in a lovable and admirable light 
 the young Harvard student. 
 
 Having written in this accurate way to his mother, within 
 a month he writes to his younger sister: 
 
 Sweet Pussie: I am spending Sunday with Minot Weld. 
 It is a beautiful day and this afternoon we are going to drive 
 over to Dick Saltonstall's where we shall go out walking with 
 
no My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 Miss Rose Saltonstall and Miss Alice Lee, and drive home by 
 moonlight after tea. I have begun studying fairly hard now, 
 and shall keep it up until Christmas. I am afraid I shall not 
 be able to come home for Thanksgiving; I really have my hands 
 full, especially now that my Political Economy Professor wishes 
 me to start a Finance Club, which would be very interesting 
 indeed, and would do us all a great deal of good, but which will 
 also take up a great deal of time. Of course, I spend a good 
 deal of my spare time in the Porcellian Club which is great fun. 
 Night before last, Harry Shaw and I gave a little supper up 
 there, the chief items on the biU of fare were partridges and 
 Burgundy, — ^I, confining myself to the partridges. I am going 
 to cut Sunday school today for the second time this year, but 
 when the weather is so beautiful as this, I like every now and 
 then to spend Sunday with a friend. Harry Chapin is going to 
 take my class for me today. Good-bye sweet one, — 
 
 Your Loving Tedo. 
 
 Here again we see the growth of the young man, the growth 
 of his influence in his class, for it is to him that the Political 
 Economy professor turns to start a finance club, and we see also 
 the proportionate all-round development, for not only does he 
 read poetry, start finance clubs, differ with Mill and Ferrier on 
 abstract subjects, but also joins with Harry Shaw in a little sup- 
 per of partridges and Burgundy— 'he confining himself, I would 
 have my readers know, to the partridges ! Theodore Roosevelt 
 was growing in every way and especially becoming the more 
 all-round man, and it was well that this growth should take 
 place, for if the all-round man can still keep focussed ideals and 
 strong determination to achieve in individual directions, it is 
 because of the aU-roimd qualities that he becomes the leader 
 of men. Again the happy Christmas holidays came, but this 
 time shadowed by the great blank made by my father's loss, 
 and in February, 1879, he writes again — now of happy coasting- 
 parties at the Saltonstalls', where began his intimate relation- 
 
College Chums iil 
 
 ship with lovely Alice Lee, who later became his wife. One can 
 see the merry young people flying, as he says, "like the wind," 
 on their long toboggans, and then having a gay dance at the 
 hospitable house of Mrs. Lee. 
 
 In March he writes: "I only came out second best in the 
 sparring contest, but I do not care very much for I have had 
 uncommonly good luck in everything this year from studies to 
 society. I enjoyed my trip to Maine very much indeed; of 
 course, I fell behind in my studies, but by working pretty hard 
 last week, I succeeded in nearly catching up again." This trip 
 to Maine cemented the great friendship between my brother 
 and those splendid backwoodsmen. Bill Sewall and Will Dow, 
 who were later to be partners in his ranching venture in the Far 
 West. Bill Sewall was a strong influence in my brother's young 
 manhood, and for him great admiration was conceived by the 
 young city boy and, later, by the college student. The splendid, 
 simple, strong man of the woods, though not having had similar 
 educational advantages, was still so earnest a reader and so 
 natural a philosopher that his attitude toward books and life 
 had lasting influence over his young companion. 
 
 About this same time, March, 1879, my brother wrote me 
 one of the sweetest and most characteristic of his little love- 
 letters. It was dated from the Porcellian Club on March 28, 
 and enclosed a diminutive birch-bark book of poetry, and the 
 letter ran as follows: "Wee Pussy, I came across such a funny, 
 wee book of poetry today, and I send it to a wee, funny Kitty 
 Coo, with Teddy's best love." The page on which the sweet 
 words are written is yellow, but the little birch-bark book is 
 still intact, and the great love engendered by the tender thought 
 of, and expression of that thought to, his sister is even deeper 
 than when the sweet words Were actually written. 
 
 On May 3 he writes in a humorous vein: "Pet Pussie: At 
 last the deed is done and I have shaved ofif my whiskers ! The 
 consequence, I am bound to add> is that I look like a dissolute 
 democrat of the Fourth Ward; I send you some tintypes I had 
 
112 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 PORCCLUAN CLUB. 
 
 LETTER TO CXJRINNE ROOSEVELT :ACCX)MPANY1NG "BIRCH BARK POEMS" 
 
 taken; the front views are pretty good, although giving me 
 an expression of glum misery that I sincerely hope is not natural. 
 The side views do not resemble me any more than they do 
 Michael Angelo or John A. Weeks. The next four months are 
 going to be one 'demnition grind' but by great good luck, I shall 
 
College Chums 113 
 
 be able to leave here June sth, I think," The whiskers were 
 permanently removed and never again reappeared, except on 
 his hunting trip the following year, and I think he felt, himself, 
 that the lack of them added a touch of elegance to his appear- 
 ance, for he writes again within a day or two: "I rode over on 
 Saturday morning (very swell with himting crop and beaver) 
 to Chestnut Hill where I took lunch with the Lees." He is be- 
 ginning to be quite a gentleman of fashion, and so the care-free 
 days glide by, another summer comes, with pleasant visits, and 
 another Maine woods excursion; but even when writing in the 
 midst of house-parties of bewildering gaiety, he adds at the 
 end of a long letter in August, 1879, "For my birthday, among 
 the books I most want are the complete editions of Prescott, 
 Motley, and Carlyle," and signs himself "Your loving St. Buv.," 
 a new pet name which he had given himself and which was a 
 conglomerate of St. Beiive, for whose writings he had great ad- 
 miration, and the brother for whom his little sister had such 
 great admiration. 
 
 His last year at college was one of equal growth, although 
 the development was not as apparent as in his junior year, and 
 in June, 1880, he graduated with honors, a happy, successful 
 Harvard, aliunnus. A number of his New York friends went 
 on for class day, and all made merry together, and not long after- 
 wards he and his brother Elliott started on a hunting trip to- 
 gether. Elliott, who as a young child had been the strong one, 
 when Theodore was a delicate little boy, had, during the years of 
 adolescence, been somewhat of an invalid and could not go to 
 college; our father, wise as ever, decided he must have his edu- 
 cation in another way, and he arranged for Elliott to spend sev- 
 eral years largely in the open air. He became a splendid shot, 
 and my brother Theodore always felt that Elliott was far the 
 . better hunter of the two. The brothers were devoted to each 
 other, and were each the complement of the other in character. 
 Theodore writes from Wilcox's farm, Illinois, August 22, 1880: 
 "Darling Pussie: We have been having a lovely time so far, 
 
114 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 have shot fair quantities of game, are in good health, though 
 our fare and accommodations are of the roughest. The shoot- 
 ing is great fun; you would laugh to see us start o£F in a wagon, 
 in our rough, dirty, hxmting-suits, not looking very different 
 from our driver; a stub- tailed, melancholy looking pointer under 
 the front seat, and a yellow, fool idea of a setter under the back 
 one, which last is always getting walked on and howling dis- 
 mally. We enjoy the long drives very much: the roads are 
 smooth and lovely, and the country, a vast undulating prairie, 
 cut up by great fields of corn and wheat with few trees. The 
 birds are not very plentiful, but of great variety; we get prairie 
 chickens in the stubble fields, plover in the pastures, snipe m 
 the 'slews,' and ducks in the ponds. We himt about an hour 
 or two in a place, then get into our wagon and drive on, so that, 
 though we cover a very large tract of coimtry, we are not very 
 tired at the end of the day, only enough to make us sleq) well. 
 The climate is simply superb, and thou^ the scenery is not 
 very varied, yet there is something very attractive to me in these 
 great treeless, rolling plains, and Nellie [his pet name for EUiott] 
 and I are great chums, and in the evening, sit and compare our 
 adventures in 'other lands' until bedtime which is pretty early." 
 And again he writes a few weeks later from Chicago, in a 
 very bantering vein: 
 
 September 12, 1880 — Darling Pussie: We have come back 
 here after a week's hunting in Iowa. Elliott revels in the change 
 to civilization — ^and epicurean pleasures. As soon as we got 
 here he took some ale to get the dust out of his throat; then a 
 milk punch because he was thirsty; a mint julep because it was 
 hot; a brandy mash "to keep the cold out of his stomach"; and 
 then sherry and bitters to give him an appetite. He took a very 
 simple dinner— soup, fish, salmi de grouse, sweetbread, mutton,, 
 venison, corn, macaroni, various vegetables and some puddings 
 and pies, together with beer, later claret and in the evening, 
 shandigaff. I confined mvself to roast beef and potatoes; when 
 
Iheodure Roosevelt 
 in his twenty-second year. 
 
 Elliott Roustnclt 
 in his twenty-first year. 
 
 Portrait taken in Chicago, July, 1880, on the way to the hunting 
 trip of that season. 
 
College Chums 115 
 
 I took a second help he marvelled at my appetite — and at bed- 
 time, wondered why in thimder he felt "stuffy" and I didn't. 
 The good living also reached his brain, and he tried to liure me 
 into a discussion about the intellectual development of the Hin- 
 doos, coupled with some rather discursive and scarcely logical 
 digressions about the Infinity of the Infinite, the Sunday school 
 system, and the planet Mars, together with some irrelevant 
 remarks about Texan "Jack Rabbits" which are apparently 
 about as large as good-sized cows. Elliott says that these re- 
 marks are incorrect and malevolent; but I say they pay him 
 off for his last letter about my eating manners ! We have had 
 very good fxm so far, in spite of a succession of untoward ac- 
 cidents and delays. I broke both my guns, Elliott dented his, 
 and the shooting was not as good as we had expected; I got 
 bitten by a snake and chucked headforemost out of the wagon. 
 
 Your Seedy Brother, Theo. 
 
 Nothing could better exemplify the intimate, comprehending 
 relationship of the two brothers than the above letter, in which, 
 with exaggerated fun, Theodore "pays Elliott off" for his criti- 
 cisms of the future President's eating manners ! All through 
 their lives — alas ! Elliott's life was to end prematurely at the 
 age of thirty-three — the same relationship endured between 
 them. Each was full of rare charm, joy of life, and unselfish 
 interest in his fellow man, and thus they had much in common 
 always. 
 
 The hunting trip described so vividly in these two letters 
 was, in a sense, the climax of this period of my brother's life. 
 College days were over, the happy summer following his gradua- 
 tion was also on the wane, and within a brief six weeks from the 
 time these letters were written, Theodore Roosevelt, a married 
 man, was to go forth on the broader avenues of his life's destiny. 
 
THE YOUNG REFORMER 
 
 "Lift up thy praise to Life 
 That set thee in the strenuous ways, 
 And left thee not to drowse and rot 
 Li some thick perfumed and luxurious plot. 
 
 "Strong, strong is Earth 
 With vigor for thy feet, 
 To make thy wa^aring 
 Tireless and fleet, 
 
 "And good is Earth, 
 But Earth not all thy good, 
 O thou with seeds of suns 
 And star-fire in thy blood." 
 
 THE early part of the year 1881 was spent by Theodore 
 Roosevelt and his young wife with my mother at 6 West 
 57th Street, and was devoted largely to literary work 
 and efforts to acquaint himself with the political interests of 
 the district in which we lived. 
 
 During the following summer, they travelled in Europe; 
 he climbed Swiss mountains and showed his usual capacity for 
 surmoimting 1 obstacles. Jime 16, 1881, he writes from Paris 
 in connection with artistic wanderings in the Louvre. "I have 
 not admired any of the French painters much excq)ting Greuze. 
 Rubens' 'Three Wives' are reproduced in about fifty different 
 ■ways, which I think a mistake. No painter can make the same 
 face serve for Venus, the Virgin, and a Flemish lady." And 
 again on August 24 from Brussels: "I know nothing at all, in 
 reality, of art, I regret to say, but I do know what pictures I 
 
 116 
 
The Young Reformer 117 
 
 like. I am not at all fond of Rubens; he is mentally a fleshly, 
 sensuous painter, and yet his most famous pictures are those 
 relating to the Divinity. Above all, he fails in his female figures. 
 Rubens' women are handsome animals except his pictures of 
 rich Flemish house-wives, but they are either ludicrous or ugly 
 when meant to represent either the Virgin or a Saint. I think 
 they are not much better as heathen goddesses. I do not like 
 a chubby Minerva, a corpulent Venus, or a Diana who is so fat 
 that I know she could never overtake a cow, let alone a deer. 
 Rembrandt is by all odds my favorite. I am very much at- 
 tracted by his strongly contrasting coloring and I could sit for 
 hours examining his heads; they are so life-like and impressive. 
 Van Heist I like for the sake of the realism with which he pre- 
 sents to one, the bold, rich, turbulent Dutchman of his time. 
 Vandyke's heads are wonderful; they are very life-like and very 
 powerful — ^but if the originals were like them, I should hardly 
 have admired one of them. Perhaps, the pictures I really get 
 most enjoyment out of are the landscapes, the homely little 
 Dutch and Flemish interiors, the faithful representations of 
 how the people of those times lived and made merry and died, 
 which are given us by Jan Steen, Van Ostade, Teniers, and Ruys- 
 dael. They bring out the life of that period in a way no written 
 history could do, and interest me far more than pictures of Saints 
 and Madonnas. I suppose this sounds heretical but it is true. 
 This time I have really tried to like the holy pictures but I can- 
 not; even the Italian masters seem to me to represent good men 
 and insipid, good women, but rarely anything saintly or divine. 
 The only pictures I have seen with these attributes are Gustav 
 Doree's ! He alone represents the Christ so that your pity for 
 him is lost in intense admiration and reverence. Your loving 
 brother." 
 
 The above letter is one unusual in its t3^e, because it was 
 rare for Theodore Roosevelt to write as much about art. He 
 always loved certain types of pictures, but his busy, active career 
 had but small time for the more aesthetic interests ! All these 
 
ii8 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 criticisms by the young man not yet twenty-three have their 
 value because they show "So distinctly the character of the young 
 man himself. One sees the interest which he takes in his human- 
 kind as represented by certain types of Dutch pictures, and also 
 his love for spiritual beauty, when not belittled by insipidity. 
 Perhaps the last sentence of this letter is most characteristic 
 of aU of his own vital spirit. He does not wish to pity the Christ ; 
 he almost insists that pity must be lost in admiration and rev- 
 erence. Pity always seemed to Theodore Roosevelt an unde- 
 sirable quality; tenderest sympathy he gave and craved — ^but 
 never pity. 
 
 After this brief artistic sojourn he plunged with great energy, 
 on his return, into the drudgery of poKtical hfe in his own dis- 
 trict. Many were the criticisms of his friends and acquain- 
 tances at the thought of his taking up city or state politics from 
 a serious standpoint. At that time, even more than now, 
 "politics" was considered as something far removed from the 
 life of any one brought up to other spheres than that of mud- 
 slinging and corruption. AU "politics" was more or less re- 
 garded as inextricably intertwined with the above. Theodore 
 Roosevelt, however, realized from the very beginning of his 
 life that "armchair" criticism was ineffectual, and, because in- 
 effectual, imdesirable. If one were to regard oneself in the light 
 of a capable critic, the actual criticism immediately obligated 
 the person indulging in it to do something about the matter. 
 He often used to quote the old story of "Squeers" in "Nicholas 
 Nickleby," that admirable old novel of Charles Dickens, in which 
 "Do the Boys' Hall" was so amusingly described. Mr. Squeers, 
 the master of the above school, would call up a pupil and ask 
 him to speU window. He pronounced it "winder," and the 
 pupil in turn would spell it "w-i-n-d-e-r." The spelling would 
 not be corrected but the boy would receive the injunction to 
 "go and wash it," and my brother always said that while he 
 did not approve of "Squeers' " spelling — nor indeed of other 
 methods practised by him — that the "go and wash it" was an 
 
The Young Reformer 119 
 
 admirable method to follow in political life. The very fact 
 that, although by no means a wealthy man, he had a sufficient 
 competence to make it unnecessary for him to earn his own liv- 
 ing, made him feel that he must devote his life largely to public 
 affairs. He realized that luiless the men of his type and caliber 
 interested themselves in American government, lie city, state, 
 and country in which they lived would not have the benefit 
 of educated min ds and of incorruptible characters. He there- 
 fore set himself to work to learn the methods used in ordinary 
 political life, and, by learning the methods, to fit himself to 
 fight intelligently whatever he found unworthy of free American 
 citizenship. 
 
 He has described this part of his life in his own auto- 
 biography. He has told of how he met Joseph Murray, a force 
 in the political district, who became his devoted adherent, and 
 how he decided himself to become one of the "governing class." 
 This effort resulted in his nomination for the New York State 
 Assembly, and on January i, 1882, Theodore Roosevelt became 
 outwardly, what inwardly he had always been, a devoted public 
 servant. That winter remains in my mind as one of intense in- 
 terest in aU of his activities. We were all living at my mother's 
 home in 57th Street, and he spent part of the week in Albany, 
 returning, as a rule, on Friday for the week-end. Many were 
 the long talks, many the humorous accounts given us of his ad- 
 ventures as an assemblyman, and all the time we, his family, 
 realized that an influence unusual in that New York State As- 
 sembly was beginning to be felt. Akeady, by the end of a month 
 or so, he was known as "the Young Reformer," ardent and 
 earnest, who pleaded for right thinking, and definite practical 
 interpretation of right thinking. His name was on the lips of 
 many before he had been three months an assemblyman, and 
 already his native city was beginning to take a more than 
 amused interest in his activities. 
 
 A certain highbrow club called "The 19th Century Club," 
 whose president was the editor of the Evening Post (a paper 
 
I20 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 neither then nor later always in accord with the ideals and meth- 
 ods of Theodore Roosevelt !), invited the young assemblyman 
 to make an address before its members. He accepted the iavi-- 
 tation, feeling, as he always did, that it was well to give the type 
 of message that he wished to give to the type of citizens of which 
 that dub was composed. Following my invariable custom 
 whenever it was possible for me to do so, I accompanied him to 
 the meeting. The method of procedure in "The 19th Century 
 Club" was as follows: The speaker of the evening was al- 
 lowed to choose his own subject, announced, of course, several 
 weeks in advance, and he was given a half-hour in which to de- 
 velop his idea. A second speaker was iavited to rebut the first 
 speaker. The speaker of the evening was then allowed ten 
 minutes to rebut the rebutter. It is, I think, of special inter- 
 est to remember that the young assemblyman, twenty-three 
 years of age, chose for his subject the same theme on which the 
 man of sixty, who was about to die, wrote his last message to 
 his countrymen. 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt announced that he would speak to "The 
 19th Century Club" on "Americanism." A brilliant editor of 
 an able newspaper was asked to make the speech in answer to 
 the address of "the Yoimg Reformer." As I say, I went with 
 my brother to the meeting and sat directly under him in a front 
 seat. It was the first time I had ever heard him speak in public 
 and I confess to having been extremely nervous. He was never 
 an orator, although later his speeches were delivered with great 
 charm of manner and diction, but at this early stage of his career 
 he had not the graces of an older and more finished speaker. I 
 can see him now as he came forward on the platform and began 
 with eager ardor his plea for Americanism. Every fibre of my 
 being responded to him and to his theme, but I seemed to be 
 alone in my response, for the somewhat chilly audience, full of 
 that same armchair criticism of which I have spoken, gave but 
 little response to the desire of the heart of Theodore Roosevelt, 
 and when he had finished his half-hour's presentation of his 
 plea, there was very little applause, and he sat down looking 
 
The Young Reformer 121 
 
 somewhat nervous and disappointed. Then the brilliant man, 
 twice the age of Theodore Roosevelt, who had been chosen to 
 reply to him, rose, and with deft oratorical manipulation rang 
 the changes on every "ism" he could Miinlr of, using as his fun- 
 damental argimient the fact that all "isms" were fads. He 
 spoke of the superstition of spiritualism, the extravagance of 
 fanaticism, the hypocrisy of hypnotism, the plausibility of 
 socialism — ^and the highbrow members of "The 19th Century 
 Club" were with the brilliant orator from start to finish, and as 
 he closed his subtile argument, which left Americanism high 
 and dry on the shores of faddism, the audience felt that "the 
 Young Reformer" had had his lesson, and gave genuine applause 
 to his opponent. 
 
 Half-way through that opponent's address, I confess, on my 
 own part, to having experienced a great feeling of discourage- 
 ment; not because I agreed with what he said, but because of the 
 effect produced upon the listeners; but suddenly I saw my 
 brother smile the same smile which used to cross his face in later 
 years when some heckler would try to embarrass him from the 
 back of a great hall, and he took a pencil and wrote something 
 on his cuff. The smile was transitory but it gave me fresh hope, 
 and I knew quite well that the audience would hear something 
 worth while, if not to their liking, in the last ten minutes of the 
 evening, when, as I said before, the speaker of the evening was 
 allowed to rebut the rebutter. The clever editor sat down amidst 
 interested applause, and "the Young Reformer" stqjped once 
 more forward to the edge of the platform. He leaned far over 
 from the platform, so earnest, so eager was he, and this is what 
 he said: "I believe that I am allowed ten minutes in which to 
 refute the arguments qi my opponent. I do not need ten min- 
 utes — ^I do not need five minutes — ^I hardly need one minute — ^I 
 shall ask you one question, and as you answer that question, 
 you will decide who has won this argument — ^m3rself or the gentle- 
 man on the other side of this platform. My question is as fol- 
 lows: If it is true that all isms are fads, I would ask you. Fellow 
 
122 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 Citizens, what about Patriotism?" The audience rose to its 
 feet; even "The 19th Century Club" could not but acknowledge 
 that patriotism was a valuable attribute for American citizens 
 to possess. That was the first time that Theodore Roosevelt, 
 in public, asked of his fellow coimtrymen, "What about Patriot- 
 ism?" but all his life long, from that time on, it was the ques- 
 tion forever on his lips, the question which his own life most 
 adequately answered. 
 
 In April of that same year, Theodore, an assemblyman not 
 yet twenty-four, had already made himself so conspicuous a 
 figure that mention of him and his attitudes was constantly in 
 the New York press. In an envelope, put away long ago, I find 
 an excerpt from the New York Times, April 5, 1882. It is yellow 
 with age and brittle, but there was something ineffaceable and 
 prophetic in the faded words; I quote: 
 
 "He called from the table his resolution directing an inves- 
 tigation by the Standing Judiciary Committee of the acts of 
 Judge Westbrook and Ex-Attorney General Ward in connec- 
 tion with the gigantic stock jobbing scheme of the Manhattan 
 Railroad Co. (Elevated). Ex-Governor Alvord tried to prevent 
 resolution, but it was carried 48-22. As Mr. Roosevelt rose to 
 speak, the House, for ahnost the only time during the Session, 
 grew silent and listened to evay word that he uttered." 
 
 In the midst of a body of men somewhat inclined to a cer- 
 tain kind of careless irreverence, it is of marked interest that 
 "as Mr. Roosevelt rose to speak, the House, for almost the only 
 time during the Session, grew silent and listened to every word 
 that he uttered." To how few young men of twenty-three would 
 "the House" accord such respect! As I say, the attitude was 
 prophetic, for the following forty years, no matter how fiercely 
 he was criticised, no matter what fury of invective was launched 
 against him, no matter how jealously and vindictively he was 
 occasionally opposed, there was never a place where Theodore 
 Roosevelt rose to speak that he was not Ustened to with great 
 attention. 
 
The Young Reformer 123 
 
 In the Sun of the same date the account of the incident runs 
 as follows: "Mr. Roosevelt's speech was delivered with de- 
 liberation and measured emphasis, and his charges were made 
 with a boldness that was almost startling." Those first two 
 years of his career as an assemblyman showed, iadeed, again, 
 that the youth was father to the man. The characteristics which 
 marked his whole public life never showed more dominantly 
 than as a yoimg assemblyman in Albany. Uncompromising 
 courage was combined with common sense, and the power of 
 practical though never unworthy compromise was as evident 
 then as later in his life. Those years have been fully dwelt upon 
 in his own autobiography. 
 
 The great tragedy of his young wife's death at the birth of 
 her first child was an even greater tragedy because the death 
 of our lovely mother occurred twenty-four hours before her son's 
 wife passed away. Our mother's home at S7th Street had been 
 the backgroimd of our young married life, as it had been the 
 foreground of our youth, and the winter of 1884 had been 
 spent by my husband and myself at 6 West S7th Street, and the 
 consequence was that as Theodore also made his headquarters 
 .there, we had been much together, and that very fact made it 
 even harder to break up the home which had been so long the 
 centre of our family life. 
 
 The next two years were almost the saddest of our happy 
 lives. My brother had, fortunately, already interested himself 
 in a ranching enterprise in North Dakota, and although he re- 
 turned to the assembly in February, 1884, and with his usual 
 courage finished his year of duty there, he turned gladly to the 
 new Kfe of the West, and became, through his absolute com- 
 prehension of the pioneer type of the cowboy and the ranch- 
 man, not only one of them from a physical standpoint, but also 
 one of them from the standpoint of understanding their mental 
 outlook. 
 
 In June, 1884, however, before starting for Dakota, he was 
 to meet one of the serious political decisions of his life. That 
 
124 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 spring, when it came time to elect delegates to the Republican 
 National Convention, he was, with the hearty approval of the 
 great mass of his party, chosen as the chief of the four delegates- 
 at-large from New York State. Mr. Joseph Bucklin Bishop 
 gives in his history of "Theodore Roosevelt and His Time" a 
 short account of that convention, of which I quote part: 
 
 "He went to the National Convention an avowed advocate 
 of the nomination of Senator John F. Edmunds of Vermont as 
 Republican Candidate for the Presidency in preference to James 
 G. Blaine. The New York Times of Jxme 4th, 1884, refers to 
 him as the leader of the Younger Republicans, and says,, 'when 
 he spoke, it was not the voice of a youth but the voice of a 
 man, and a positive practical man.' " 
 
 Mr. Bishop describes Mr. Roosevelt's efforts and the efforts 
 of Senator Henry Cabot Lodge to secure the nomination of their 
 choice, and then continues: "By the nomination of Mr. Blaine 
 which followed later, Roosevelt was confronted with what, in 
 many respects, was one of the most serious crises of his career. 
 He had to decide which of the two courses he should choose; 
 he must separate himself completely from his party and become 
 an absolute Independent, or stay within his party and support 
 its regularly appointed candidate. The nomination of Mr. Blaine 
 had been fairly won. He was unquestionably the choice of the 
 Convention. There was no claim that the will of the majority 
 had been subverted either through the action of a committee 
 on contested seats or in any other way. The problem before 
 him was thus a quite different one from that presented to him 
 twenty-eight years later in the National Republican Conven- 
 tion of 1912. In opposing the nomination of Mr. Blaine, he and 
 his Republican Associates had been acting with a considerable 
 body of Professional Independents. These men were without 
 allegiance to either of the great political parties. Though he 
 had been, during his brief public career, an avowed Republican, 
 seeking to accomplish all his reforms through Republican aid 
 and inside party lines, his Independent associates, as soon as 
 
The Young Reformer 125 
 
 the Blaine nomination was made, assumed that he would leave 
 his party and join them in seeking to accomplish Mr. Blaine's 
 defeat by supporting the Democratic candidate. In fact, they 
 not merely asked but demanded that he abandon the course 
 which he had followed since his entry into political life and upon 
 which he had built his public career. They were sincere in their 
 belief that he should do so. It seemed incredible to them that 
 he could do anything else. He gave them full credit for sin- 
 cerity but declared that the question was one that he must in- 
 sist upon deciding for himself. 
 
 "He admitted frankly that he had worked hard for the nonu- 
 nation of Edmunds but he declined to say at once what course 
 he should pursue in regard to the nomination of Mr. Blaine. 
 Various devices were used to force him to declare his intentions, 
 some by Republican politicians and others by leading Inde- 
 pendents, but all in vain. He insisted upon deciding the ques- 
 tion for himself and in his own way and time. He went direct 
 from the Convention in Chicago to his ranch in Dakota, and 
 several weeks later put forth a formal statement in which he 
 defined his decision as foUows: *I intend to vote the Republican 
 Presidential ticket. While at Chicago, I told Mr. Lodge that 
 such was my intention but before announcing it, I wished to 
 have time to think the matter over. A man cannot act both 
 without and within the party; he can do either, but he cannot 
 possibly do both. Each course has its advantages and each 
 has its disadvantages, and one caimot take the advantages or 
 the disadvantages separately. I went in with my eyes open 
 to do what I could within the party. I did my best and 
 got beaten, and I propose to stand by the result. It is impos- 
 sible to combine the fimctions of a guerilla chief with those of 
 a colonel in the regular army; one has a greater independence 
 of action, the other is able to make what action he does take 
 vastly more effective. In certain contingencies, the one can 
 do most good; in certain contingencies the other; but there is 
 no use in accepting a commission and then trying to play the 
 
126 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 game out on a lone hand. I am by inheritance and by educa- 
 tion a Republican. Whatever good I have been able to accom- 
 plish in public life has been accomplished through the Repub- 
 lican party. I have acted with it in the past and wish to act 
 with it in the future. I went as a regular delegate to the Chicago 
 Convention and intend to abide by the outcome of that Con- 
 vention. I am going back in a day or two to my Western ranch 
 as I do not intend to take any part in a campaign this Fall.'" 
 [This determination not to take part in the campaign he re- 
 called later, for reasons which were eminently characteristic] 
 
 " * When I started out to my ranch two months ago,' he said 
 in October, *I had no intention of taking any part whatever 
 in the Presidential canvass, and the decision I have now come 
 to is the result of revolving the matter in my mind during that 
 time. It is altogether contrary to my character to keep a neu- 
 tral position in so important and exciting a struggle, and besides 
 any natural struggle to keep a position of some kind, I made 
 up my mind that it was clearly my duty to support the ticket.' " 
 
 He faced the storm of disapproval and abuse calmly, and 
 in reply to an open letter of regret and remonstrance from an 
 Independent, he wrote: "I thank you for your good opinion of 
 my past service. My power, if I ever had any, may or may not 
 be as utterly gone as you think, but most certainly, it would 
 deserve to go if I yield any more to the pressure of the Inde- 
 pendents at present, when I consider them to be wrong, than I 
 yielded in the past to the pressure of the machine when I thought 
 it wrong." He declined a renomination for the assembly, which 
 he could have had without opposition, and two separate offers 
 of nominations for Congress, on the grotmd that his private in- 
 terests, which he had neglected during his service in the legis- 
 lature, required his attention. 
 
 His courageous attitude in connection with the disapproval 
 of the Independents was indeed characteristic. He was invari- 
 ably willing to run the risk of the disapproval of any faction 
 when he had positively made up his own mind as to the right 
 
The Young Reformer 127 
 
 or wrong of any question, and he set his mind and heart upon 
 those "private interests" of which he speaks. 
 
 In a later chapter I give several of his letters of this period 
 in connection with a trip which he arranged for the members of 
 his family to the Elkhorn Ranch and the Yellowstone Park in 
 1890. All his craving for the out-of-door life, all his sympathy 
 with pioneer enterprise, such as his heroes Daniel Boone and 
 Davy Crockett had indulged in, were satisfied by those long 
 days on the open prairies, and by the building of his ranch-houses 
 with the assistance of his old friends, Bill SewaU and Will Dow, 
 the two stanch Maine lumbermen, uncle and nephew, with 
 whom he had made many an excursion in the Maine woods in 
 earlier daj^. Theodore Rocfeevelt, however, was not to be al- 
 lowed by his country to remain too long the rider and dreamer 
 under cottonwood-trees, or even a potent influence for good in 
 Western affairs, as he became. Already nmiors were abroad 
 that he would be the choice of the Republican party for the 
 nominee for mayor of New York City, and he was recalled from 
 the wilds of North Dakota to a stirring triangular campaign in 
 which Henry George, representing "Single Tax" beliefs, Abra- 
 ham S. Hewitt, Democratic nominee, and the young ranchman 
 from Dakota battled lustily against each other, with the re- 
 sult that Mr. Hewitt was elected mayor of New York. 
 
 In the autumn of 1886 he sailed for Europe to marry his 
 old friend Edith Carow, and for a brief period led a life of leisure 
 and travel. Only very rarely in his busy existence had he time 
 for just that life again, and the consequence is that some of his 
 letters at that period have an imusual value. He humorously 
 described some of his travels in Italy in a letter dated Decem- 
 ber, 1886, as follows: "My lack of knowledge of the language 
 has given me some soul-harrowing moments, — a mixture of 
 broken English with GSerman and French proving but an indif- 
 ferent substitute for Italian, so I sometimes get what I do not 
 want, as when yesterday, an effort to state that after dinner 
 we wished only black coffee, expressed with deprecatory waves 
 
128 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 of the hand and the idiomatic phrase, 'c'est genuch' produced 
 in addition, cheese, pastry, and fruit, all brought by the waiter 
 in a wild hope that some one of those might satisfy what he evi- 
 dently supposed was my untranslatable demand." 
 
 A little later, from Sorrento, he writes in characteristic fash- 
 ion, showing that even in so romantic and enthralling a spot as 
 Rome he was still "on duty bent" from the standpoint of writing 
 articles for the Century. He says: "I finished six articles for the 
 Century on ranch life while in Rome and sent them off. I do 
 not know whether the Century will want them or not. I read 
 them all to Edith and her corrections and help were most valu- 
 able to me. Now I am wondering why my 'Life of Benton' 
 has not come out. Here, [at Sorrento] I generally take a mod- 
 erate walk with Edith every morning, and then a brisk rush by 
 myself. I had no idea that it was in me to enjoy the 'dolce 
 far niente' even as long as I have. Luckily, Edith would dis- 
 like an extended stay in Europe as much as I woxild." 
 
 In this letter, after speaking of ranch losses which neces- 
 sitated selling his beloved hunter. Sagamore, he signs himself, 
 "Your extravagant and irrelevant but affectionate brother, the 
 White Knight," the latter being a reference to the character in 
 "Alice in Wonderland," from which enchanting book we in- 
 variably quoted in ordinary conversation or letters. 
 
 From Venice, in February, he writes: "Venice is perfectly 
 lovely. It is more strange than any other Italian town, and 
 the architecture has a certain florid barbarism about it, — ^Byzan- 
 tine, — dashed with something stronger — that appeals to some 
 streak in my nature." They returned to London later, and 
 were shown many attentions, for even at that early period in 
 his life, England recognized the statesman in Theodore Roose- 
 velt. He speaks of Mr. Bryce the historian as a "charming 
 man" — their friendship was to last all through my brother's 
 life, and he mentions many other well-known yoimg English- 
 men, who have now grown old in their country's service. In a 
 letter dated March 6 he says: "I have been having great fun 
 
The Young Reformer 129 
 
 in London, and have seen just the very nicest people, social, 
 political, and literary. We have just come back from a lunch 
 at the Jeunes', which was most enjoyable. Edith sat beside 
 Chamberlain, who impresses me very much with his keen, shrewd 
 intellect aiid quiet force. I sat between Trevelyan, who was 
 just charming, and a Lady Leamington." 
 
 Unless I am mistaken, that was the first time my brother 
 met Sir George Trevelyan, with whom he carried on a faithful 
 and interesting correspondence for many years. "Mrs. Jeune 
 has asked us to dine to meet Lord Charles Beresford and Lord 
 Harrington, and I have been put down for the Athenaeum Club, 
 and also taken into the Reform Club. Last night, I dined at a 
 Bohemian Club, the famous Savage Club, with Healy and one 
 or two PameUites, (having previously limched with several of 
 the Conservatives, Lord Stanhope and Seton-Carr, and others). 
 The contrast was most amusing, but I like Healy immensely. 
 Later on I met a brother of Stanhope's who is a radical, and 
 listened to a most savage discussion with a young fellow named 
 Foster, a nephew of the late Secretary of Ireland, who has also 
 been very polite to me. I have enjoyed going to the House of 
 Commons imder the guidance of Bryce, the historian, and a 
 dear old Conservative member named Hoare, very greatly. It 
 is amusing to see the Conservatives, fresh-looking, well-built, 
 thoroughly weU-dressed gentlemen, honest and plucky but ab- 
 solutely unable to grapple with the eighty odd, erratic Pamellite 
 Irishmen. The last named, by the way, I know well of old, — 
 I have met them in the New York Legislature !" 
 
 These comments by the young man of twenty-eight are along 
 the line of conaments made much later when almost all of his re- 
 actions to the men named or suggested had come true. The 
 travellers were more than glad to get back to their native land, 
 and by the early summer were settled at Sagamore Hill, to begin 
 there the beautiful family life which grew in richness up to the 
 moment of my brother's death. 
 
 June 8, 1887, he writes from Sagamore, describing amusingly 
 
130 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 his efforts to become a polo-player. He has often expressed his 
 own feeling about sports — ^he loved them, enjoyed his hunting 
 and other athletic exercises to the full, but they were always a 
 relaxation, never a pursuit with him. "Frank Underbill and 
 I ride industriously around the field and brandish our mallets 
 so as to foster the delusion among simple folk that we likewise 
 are pla3dng polo. Two other would-be players also come now 
 and then; but as they have not yet even learned to sit on horse- 
 back and strike the ball simultaneously, and, after trial, having 
 found it impracticable to do so alternately, our games are gen- 
 erally duels. Yesterday, I beat Frank two out of three — and 
 in addition, stood on my head on the sward in the enthusiasm 
 of one mSlee where we got rather mixed. Day before yesterday, 
 I rowed Edith to Lloyd's Neck, portaged across — at low tide, 
 the hardest work I ever did almost, — into Himtington Harbor, 
 then rowed out into the Sound. We took our lunch and some 
 volumes of Thackeray. It was an ideal day — ^but wasn't I stiff 
 and blistered next morning! Do come soon and stay as long 
 as possible. Yours as ever, Theodore Roosevelt." 
 
 During that same summer I took my little niece Alice, with 
 my children, to our old home on the Mohawk Hills for a change 
 of air, and he writes me in his usual loving way of his warm ap- 
 preciation of the pleasure I was giving the child, and sends his 
 love to the little "yellow-haired darling," and incidentally, in 
 the letters, says his book "Morris ["Gouverneur Morris"] goes 
 drearily on by fits and starts, and in the intervals, I chop vigor- 
 ously and have lovely rowing excursions"; and so the happy 
 summer wore to its close and was crowned in September by the 
 birth of his first boy, the third Theodore Roosevelt. He de- 
 scribes with amusement little Alice's remark — " a truthful re- 
 mark," he says — "My little brother is a howling polly parrot." 
 All through the letter one realizes his joy and pride in his first- 
 born son, and shortly after that, in December of the same year, 
 he writes me to congratulate me on the birth of my second son, 
 Monroe, and says: "How glad I am that Ted, Junior, has a fu- 
 ture playmate. Just won't they quarrel, though !" 
 
The Young Reformer 131 
 
 Owing to the fact that in my brother's own biography he 
 describes fully his work as civil service commissioner, police 
 commissioner, and assistant secretary of the navy, I do not 
 purport to give a detailed account of his labors, especially as 
 during the period that he served in the first position, I have 
 comparatively few letters from him, and it was not until he re- 
 turned to New York in the second capacity that I saw as much 
 of him as usual. One winter, however, we had a most charac- 
 teristic intercourse. I do not remember exactly the date of 
 that winter. I had married young, my children had been bom 
 in rapid succession, and owing to the delicacy of my health just 
 before I was grown up, I was conscious of the fact that I was 
 not as grounded in certain studies, especially American history, 
 as I should have been, and I found myself with a very slim 
 knowledge of the most important facts of my nation's birth and 
 early growth. The consequence was that when my brother 
 returned for a brief period to New York, I decided to consult 
 him as to how best to study American History, thinking per- 
 haps that I might go to Columbia College or something of that 
 kind. 
 
 I began my effort for information by saying: "Theodore, 
 I really know very littie about American history. " I can see 
 the flash in his eyes as he turned to me. "What do you mean ?" 
 he said; "it's disgraceful for any woman not to know the history 
 of her own country." "I know it is," I replied, "and that is 
 just why I am consulting you about it. I know you feel I ought 
 to know all about American history, but I also know that you 
 preach large families, and you must remember that I have done 
 my best in that direction in these last five years, and now I am 
 ready to study American history!" "Do you mean really to 
 study ? " he said, looking at me sternly. "Just as really to study 
 as whooping-cough, measles, chicken-pox, and other family 
 pleasures will allow," I said. "Well," he replied, still sternly, 
 and not laughing at my sally, "if you really mean to study, 
 I will teach you myself. I will come at nine o'clock every week on 
 Tuesday and Friday for one hour, if you will be ready promptly 
 
132 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 and give me all your attention." Needless to say, I was en- 
 chanted at the thought, and, true to his word, the busy man 
 came at nine o'clock every Tuesday and Friday for several 
 months, and in my library at 422 Madison Avenue I was ready 
 with note-book and blackboard, and he lectured to me for that 
 hour twice a week as if I were a matriculating class at Harvard 
 College. I have now many of the notes he made for me at that 
 time, and I shall alwa3rs remember the painstaking way in which 
 he drew the battle-fields, and explained how "one commander 
 came up in this position at just the right moment and saved 
 the day," or how the lack of preparedness ruined many a coura- 
 geous adventure. These quiet hours come back to me with a 
 rush of recollection as I write, and I am proud to think that 
 he felt it was worth while to give me such instruction. Once 
 I said to him: "How can you do this, Theodore; how can you 
 take the time to study for these lectures?" "Oh!" he said, 
 "I do not have to study; I could not, of course, give quite as 
 much time as that. You see, I just happen to know my Ameri- 
 can history." He certainly did "happen to know" his Ameri- 
 can history, as was proved in many a controversy later in 
 his life. His American history and, indeed, the history of al- 
 most every other coimtry of the world were all at his finger-tips. 
 During his civil service commissionership, a period of a 
 number of years, the letters were few and far between, but I 
 have one dated July 28, 1889, in which he writes: "Struggle 
 as I will, my life seems to grow more and more sedentary, and 
 as for my polo, it is one of the things that has been; witness 
 the enclosed check which is for Cranford, and I am trjong to 
 sell Diamond too; — ^how I hate to give it up! We have had 
 lovely days this summer, however, at Sagamore. I took all the 
 children down on the pond once, and made them walk out on a 
 half-sunken log, where they perched like so many sand-snipes. I 
 am leaving for the West soon to have a whack at the bears in 
 the Rockies; I am so out of training that I look forward with 
 acute physical terror to going up the first mountain. [He seems 
 
The Young Reformer 133 
 
 for the moment to have forgotten that his life was growing very 
 "sedentary."] I have mortally hated being so much away 
 from home this summer, but I am very glad I took the place 
 [civil service commissionership] and I have really enjoyed my 
 work. I feel it incumbent on me to try to amount to some- 
 thing, either in politics or literature because I have deliberately 
 given up the idea of going into a money-making business. Of 
 course, however, my political life is but an interlude — it is quite 
 impossible to continue long to do much between two sets of such 
 kittle-kattle as the spoilsmen and the mugwumps." 
 
 The seed of the birth of the Progressive party of 1912 was 
 sown by that feeling of Theodore Roosevelt of the difficulty to 
 do much "between two sets such as the spoilsmen and the mug- 
 wumps." The honest effort to play honest politics for honest 
 purposes and practical ideals was the. stunulatrng idea trans- 
 lated into action in that great attempt for better government 
 called the Progressive party; but this letter of the yoimg Civil 
 Service Commissioner was written in 1889, and it was not xmtil 
 twenty-three years later that the seed fructified into a move- 
 ment which, had it succeeded, would, I verily believe, have 
 changed the fate of the world. 
 
 But to return to the Civil Service Commission. He gave 
 faithful effort and all his intelligence to the improvement of 
 that important service, and often had the sensation, which he 
 was doomed to have in so many of his positions, that he was 
 more or less beating his head against the wall. He sent me at 
 that time a copy of a letter to the Civil Service Commissioners 
 from an applicant who had been summoned to an examination 
 and had not appeared. To show the ignorance of some of the 
 applicants, I cannot resist quoting from the letter. 
 
 Alabama Mobile October 6, 1890. 
 To the Comishers of Sivel Serves, 
 
 My dear brothers: I am very sorry that I could not Meet 
 you on the day you said but gentlemen, i am glad of the cause 
 
134 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 that kept me away. Let me tell you Mr. Comisher, i hav bin 
 mard five years antel the Other Da me and my wife hav bin 
 the onley mbrs en ow Famly. Well Sir on the Da before youre 
 examnenashun My Wife Had a Kupple ov tuins, gest think of 
 it, Mr. Comischer — and of course i couddnt go off and Leave 
 her and them, i just staid home and we had a sellabration — 
 and i invited all my friends to dinner, i wish you had been 
 thare. i Hope i can be thare next time Mr. Comischer. 
 
 Very truly yours. 
 
 I remember my brother sa3Tng humorously that, after all, 
 that particular gentleman might just as well have stayed away 
 with his "tuins" and "sellabration," as he really doubted 
 whether he could have passed the "examnenashun" had he 
 appeared ! 
 
VI 
 
 THE ELKHORN RANCH AND NEAR-ROUGHING 
 IT IN YELLOWSTONE PARK 
 
 From the cloistered life of American college boys, sheltered from 
 the ruder currents of the world by the ramparts of wealth and gentle 
 nurture, he passed, still very yoimg, to the wild and free existence of 
 the plains and the hills. In the silence of those vast solitudes men 
 grow to full stature, when the original stuff is good. He came back 
 to the East, bringing with him, as Tennyson sang, "The wrestling 
 thews that throw the world." — ^From a speech by John Hay. 
 
 O lover of the things God made — 
 Hill, valley, mountain, plain: 
 The lightning from the darkened cloud, 
 The storm-burst with its rain. 
 
 — ^Roosevelt, "Hymn of Molokai." 
 
 MY brother has written so much about his own ranch, 
 and has given so vivid a description in his autobiog- 
 raphy of the life led there, of the wonderful stretches 
 of the Bad Lands, of the swaying cottonwood-trees, and the big 
 fireplace in the Elkhorn Ranch sitting-room, around which he 
 and his fellow ranchers gathered, exhausted by a long day's 
 cattle-herding or deer-hunting, that it hardly seems possible 
 that I can add much to the picture already painted by his own 
 facile hand: ranch life, however, viewed from the standpoint 
 of the outsider or from that of the insider has a different quality, 
 and thus no reminiscences of mine would be in any way com- 
 plete were I not to describe my first delightful visit paid to Me- 
 dora, Dakota, and the surrounding country, in 1890. Our party- 
 consisted of my brother and sister-in-law, my sister Mrs. Cowles, 
 then Anna Roosevelt, our friend Robert Munro Ferguson, my 
 
 13s 
 
136 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 husband and myself, and young George Cabot Lodge. The 
 latter was the sixteen-year-old son of our valued friend Senator 
 Henry Cabot Lodge, and was truly the "gifted son of a gifted 
 , father," for later he was not only to earn fame as a poet, well 
 known to his countrymen, but in his brief life — for alas ! he died 
 in the summer of 1909 — ^his talents were recognized in other 
 lands as well. 
 
 I had been prepared by many tales for the charm and free- 
 dom and informal ease of life in the Bad Lands, and had often 
 dreamed of going there; but, unlike most dreams, this one came 
 true in an even more enchanting fashion than I had dared hope. 
 Many had been the letters that my brother had written to me 
 from Elkhom Ranch several years previous to our journey. In 
 June, 1886, he wrote: "I have never once had breakfast as late 
 as four o'clock. Have been in the saddle all day, and have 
 worked like a beaver, and am as rugged and happy as possible. 
 While I do not see any very great future ahead, yet, if things 
 go on as they are now going and have gone for the past three 
 years, I think that each year I will net enough money to pay 
 a good interest on the capital, and yet be adding slowly to my 
 herd all the time. I think I have more than my capital on the 
 ground, and this year I ought to be able to sell between two and 
 three hundred head of steer and dry stock. I wish I could see 
 all of you, but I certainly do enjoy the life. The other day while 
 dining at the de Mores I had some cherries, the only fruit I have 
 had since I left New York. I have lived pretty roughly." 
 
 I quote the above simply to show, what is not alwa}^ under- 
 stood, that my brother's ranching venture was, from his stand- 
 pomt, a perfectly just business enterprise, and, had not the ex- 
 traordinarily severe winters intervened, his capital would not 
 have been impaired. Writing that same summer, shortly after 
 hearing of the birth of my baby girl, he says in his loving way: 
 
 "My own darling Pussie, my sweetest little sister: How can 
 I tell you the joy I felt when I received Douglas' first telegram; 
 but I had not the heart to write you imtil I received the sec- 
 
The Elkhorn Ranch 137 
 
 ond the good old boy sent me, and knew you were all right. 
 Just to think of there being a second wee, new Pussie in this 
 big worid ! How I shall love to pet and prize the little thing ! 
 It wiQ be very, very dear to Uncle Teddy's heart, which is 
 quite large enough, however, not to lose an atom of affection 
 for Teddy Douglas, the blessed little scamp. I have thought 
 of you all the time for the last few weeks, and you can hardly 
 imagine how overjoyed and relieved I felt, my own darling sister. 
 I hope the little new Pussie will grow up like her dear mother, 
 and that she will have many many loving ones as fond of her 
 as her irrelevant old cowboy uncle is of Pussie, Senior. Will 
 you be very much offended if I ask whether she now looks like 
 a little sparsely-haired, pink polyp? My own offspring, when 
 in tender youth, closely resembled a trilobite of pulpy consis- 
 tency and shadowy outline. You dearest Pussie, — ^you know 
 I am just teasing you, and how proud and fond I am of the lit- 
 tle thing even when I have never seen it. I wish I was where 
 I could shake old Douglas by the hand and kiss you again 
 and again. 
 
 "Today I went down to Dickerman to make the Fourth of 
 July speech to a great crowd of cowboys and rangers, and after, 
 stayed to see the horse races between the cowboys and Indians." 
 
 In another letter about the same time: "If I was not afraid 
 of being put down as cold-blooded, I should say that I honestly 
 miss greatly and all the time, and think lovingly of all you dear 
 ones, yet I really enjoy this life. I have managed to combine 
 an outdoor life possessing much variety and excitement, and 
 now and then a little adventure, with a Kterary life also. Three 
 out of four days I spend the morning and evening in the Ranch 
 house writing, and working at various pieces of writing I have 
 now on hand. They may come to nothing, however; but on 
 the other hand they may succeed; at any rate, I am doing some 
 honest work whatever tiie result is and I am really pretty phil- 
 osophical about success or failure now. It often amuses me 
 when I indirectly hear that I am supposed to be harboring secret 
 
138 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 and bitter regret for my political career, when, as a matter of 
 fact, I have hardly ever, when alone, given two thoughts to it 
 since it closed, and have been quite as much wrapped up in himt- 
 ing, ranching, and book-making as I ever was in Politics. Give 
 my best love to wee Teddy and dear old Douglas; do you know, 
 I have an excessively warm feeling for your respected spouse. 
 I have always admired Truth, Loyalty, and Courage; and 
 though I am really having a lovely life, just the life I care for, 
 please be sure that I am always thinking of my own, darling 
 sister, whom I love so much and so tenderly. Ever your affec- 
 tionate brother. Thee." 
 
 On August 7 of the same year he wrote again after having 
 paid a brief visit to the East, and returned to Dakota: "Blessed 
 little Pussie; Mother of an increasing and vocal Israel, I did 
 enjoy my two visits to my dear sister, and that dear old piece 
 of peripatetic bric-a-brac, her Caledonian spouse. Everything 
 here is much as usual. The boys were, as ahvays, genuinely 
 glad to see me. I am greatly attached to the Ranch and the 
 life out here, and am really fond of the men. It is in many ways 
 ideal; we are so very rarely able to, actually and in real life, 
 dwell in our ideal 'hero land.' The loneliness and freedom, and 
 the half-adventurous nature of existence out here, appeals to 
 me very powerfully. . . . Merrifield and I are now busily planr 
 ning our hunt in the mountains." 
 
 Such letters as the above filled the members of his family 
 with a strong desire to participate to some degree, at least, in 
 the life which he loved so dearly; but the births of various small 
 members of the family rendered such participation impossible 
 until the late summer of 1890. 
 
 After a brief visit to St. Paul, Minn., we took train for Me- 
 dora. My brother had heralded the fact that I (then a young 
 woman of twenty-eight) was a mighty rider (I had followed the 
 Essex County hoimds in New Jersey) ! And the cowboys were 
 quite sure, I think, that I would leap from the locomotive to 
 the back of a bucking bronco. Our train drew up, or I should 
 
The Elkhorn Ranch 139 
 
 say, approximately drew up, to the Kttle station at Medora at 
 four o'clock in the morning, in one of the most frightful storms 
 that I ever remember. Rain fell in torrents, and we had to 
 get out on an embankment composed of such slippery mud that 
 before we actually plodded to the station, our feet and legs were 
 encased in glutinous slime; but the calls of the cowboys xm- 
 daimtedly rang out in the darkness, and the neighing of horses 
 and prancing of hoofs made us realize that civilization as well 
 as convention was a thing of the past. Will Merrifield, the 
 superintendent of Elkhorn Ranch, and Sylvane Ferris, his able 
 lieutenant, fuUy expected me to moimt the extremely dangerous- 
 looking little animal which they held by a loose rope, and they 
 were inordinately disappointed when I pleaded the fatigue of 
 two nights on the train, and begged that I might drive with the 
 other less-adventurous ladies to the ranch-house, forty miles 
 away. Before starting on this long trip we were entertained 
 by Joe Ferris, the brother of Sylvane, who having once also been 
 one of Theodore's cowboys, had now decided upon a more sober 
 type of life as storekeeper in the little town of Medora. Joe 
 and his wife were most hospitable, and above his shop in their 
 own rooms we were given a nice warm breakfast and an equally 
 warm welcome. After breakfast, we came down to the shop, 
 where our luggage had already been gathered, and there we 
 began to sort what we would take to the Ranch and what we 
 would leave. This required a certain amount of packing and 
 unpacking, and I was on my knees "madly thrusting," as "Alice 
 in Wonderland" puts it, "a right-hand foot into a left-hand 
 shoe" when Joe came up to me and said: "Mrs. Douglas (they 
 all decided to call me Mrs. Douglas, as more informal than Mrs. 
 Robinson), it ain't worth while for you to tire yourself like that 
 when the best packer in all Dakota is standin' in the doorway." 
 I looked up and sure enough a huge man, who might have just 
 walked out of one of Bret Harte's novels, was "standin' in the 
 doorway." "There he is," continued Joe; "that's Hell-Roarin' 
 Bill, the sheriff of the county; you heard tell of how he caught 
 
140 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 that lunatic; well, Bill's the best ladies' packer that ever -was, 
 and you had better leave all your bags to him to arrange." Fear- 
 ing that "Bill" might be offended if I did not use him in the 
 capacity of a French maid, and having frequently been told 
 of the rapid results of hurt feelings on the part of "Bill," 
 I suavely called Tn'm to my side, and telling him of the wonder- 
 ful reputation which I had heard he enjoyed, I immediately 
 put my wardrobe in his care, and to my infini te surprise the huge 
 backwoodsman measured up to his reputation. Very soon the 
 cavalcade was ready, the rain had ceased to fall in such torrents, 
 the half-misty quality in the air lent a softer beauty to the arid 
 landscape, and a sense of adventure was the finishing touch to 
 our expectations as we started for Elkhom Ranch. My dis- 
 appointed friends, Merrifield and Sylvane, said that "they did 
 not believe that Mrs. Douglas would like drivin' with a 'shot- 
 gun team' much better than ridin' a buckin* bronco, but, of 
 course, if she thought she wanted to go that way, she could." 
 An hour later "Mrs. Douglas" somewhat regretted her choice 
 of progression; true enough, it was a shotgun team attached to 
 that springless wagon in which we sat ! The horses had never 
 been hitched up together before, and their methods of motion 
 were entirely at odds. The cowboy driver, however, managed 
 eventually to get them started, and from that moment our prog- 
 ress, though irrelevant, was rapid beyond words. 
 
 We forded the "Little Missouri" River twenty-three times 
 on the way to the ranch-house, and as the banks of the river 
 were extremely steep, it was always a question as to whether 
 we could go fast enough down one bank to get sufficient impetus 
 to enable us to go through the river and up the very steep 
 bank on the other side; so that either coming or going we were 
 in imminent danger of a complete somersault. However, we did 
 accomplish that long, exhausting, springless drive, and gradually 
 the buttes rose higher and higher around us, the strange forma- 
 tion of the Bad Lands, curious ia color, became more and more 
 marked, the cottonwood-trees more plentiful as the river broad- 
 
The Elkhorn Ranch 141 
 
 ened out, and suddenly we saw buried amidst the trees on the 
 farther side of one of our fordings the substantially built, cosey- 
 looking house called by my brother the Elkhorn Ranch. 
 
 In a letter written to my aunt, Mrs. Grade, from the ranch- 
 house I say: 
 
 "We are having the most delightful time at the Ranch. 
 The little house is most cosey and comfortable, and Mrs. Mer- 
 rifield had everything so neat and sweet for us, and as she has 
 a girl to help her, we really do not have to rough it at all. 
 We all make our beds and do up our rooms religiously, but even 
 that they would willingly do for us if we would let them. We 
 have had three cloudless days, the first of which was occupied 
 in driving the forty miles down here, and a beautiful pictur- 
 esque drive it is, winding in and out through these strange, 
 bold Buttes, crossing the 'Little Missouri' twenty-three times! 
 We ladies drove, but the men all rode, and very picturesque 
 they looked filing across the river. We arrived at the Ranch 
 house at twelve o'clock and ate a splendid dinner of Mrs. Merri- 
 field's preparing, immediately after which we climbed up a Butte 
 and walked to Prairie Dog town and saw the little prairie dogs. 
 We then mounted horses and took a lovely ride, so you may 
 imagine that we slept well. 
 
 "The next day we were all on horseback soon after break- 
 fast, Ferris and Merrifield with us, and off we rode; this time 
 with the intention of seeing Merrifield lasso a steer. When we 
 came to a great bunch of cattle, the practised eyes of the two 
 men at once discovered an imbranded heifer, which they imme- 
 diately decided to lasso and brand. It was very exciting. Merri- 
 field threw the rope, cleverly catching its legs, and then threw 
 the heifer, which was almost the size of a cow, and then Ferris 
 tied another rope around its neck. The ends of the ropes were 
 slipped over the pommels of two ponies who, in the most sensible 
 way, held the heifer while the two men built a little fire 
 and heated the dnch ring with which they branded the creature. 
 It was all intensely picturesque. In the afternoon^ we again 
 
142 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 rode out to be with the men while they drove the deer on the 
 bottom, and Merrifield shot one; so you see, we have had very 
 typical experiences, especially at the round-up yesterday." 
 
 Happy days, indeed, they were, full of varied excitements. 
 Merrifield's little boy, Frank, only eleven years old, was the 
 chief factor in finding the herd of ponies in the morning, for it 
 was the custom to let them loose after twilight. Many and many 
 a time I would hear him unslip the halter of the one small pony 
 ("Little Moke" by name) which was still tied to the ranch- 
 bouse steps and on which he would leap in the early dawn to 
 go to round up the ponies for the day's work. I would jump 
 up and look out of the ranch window, and see the independent 
 little fellow fording the river, starting on his quest, and an hour 
 or so later the splashing of many feet in the water heralded the 
 approach of "Little Moke," his young rider, and the whole bunch 
 of four-legged friends. 
 
 The relationship between my brother and his men was one 
 of honest comradeship but of absolute respect, each for the other, 
 and on the part of the cowboys there was, as well, toward their 
 "Boss," a certain reverential attitude in spite of the "man to 
 man" equality. How I loved that first night that we sat around 
 the fire, when the men, in their effort to give my brother all the 
 news of the vicinitylduring his absence, told the type of tale which 
 has had its equivalent only in Owen Wister's "The Virginian." 
 "There is a sky-pilot a good many miles from here, Mr. Roose- 
 velt," said Sylvane, "who's bringin' a suit against you." Syl- 
 vane announced this unpleasant fact with careless gaiety, stretch- 
 ing his long legs toward the fire. No one was ever so typically 
 the ideal cowboy of one's wildest fancy as was Sylvane Ferris. 
 Tall and slender, with strong fair hair and blue eyes of an almost 
 unnatural clearness, and a splendid broad brow and aquiline 
 nose, Sylvane looked the part. His leather chaps, his broad 
 sombrero hat, his red handkerchief knotted carelessly around 
 his strong, young, sunburned throat, all made him such a pic- 
 ture that one's eye invariably followed him as he rode a vicious 
 
The Elkhorn Ranch 143 
 
 pony, "wrastied" a calf, roped a steer, or branded a heifer; but 
 now sitting lazily by the fire, such activities seemed a thing of 
 the past, and Sylvane was ready for an hour's gossip. 
 
 "A sky-pilot? Why should a sky-pilot bring suit against 
 me?" said my brother laughingly. [In telling this story he 
 sometimes referred to this man as a professor.] 
 
 "Well," said Sylvane, "it was this way, Mr. Roosevelt. You 
 see, we was all outside the ranch door when up drives the sky- 
 pilot in a buggy. He was one of them wanderin' ones that 
 thought he could preach as he wandered, and just about as he 
 drove up in front of our ranch his horse went dead lame on him 
 and his old buggy just fell to pieces. He was in a, bad fix, and 
 he said he knew you never would let him be held up like that, 
 because he had heard you was a good man too, and wouldn't 
 we lend him a horse, or send him with the team to the next place 
 he was going to, some forty miles away. We felt we had to 
 be hospitable-like, with you so far away and the sky-pilot in 
 such a fix, so we said 'Yes,' we would send him to where he 
 wanted to go, and there he is now, lyin' in a hut with one leg 
 broken and one arm nearly wrenched off his body, and he's 
 bringin' suit against you, which ain't reaUy fair, we think." 
 
 "What do you mean, Sylvane; what have I got to do with 
 his broken leg and arm?" said my brother, beginning to feel 
 a trifle nervous. 
 
 "Well, you see, it is this way," said Sylvane; "he says we 
 sent In'm to where he is with a runaway team and he was thrown 
 out and broken up in pieces-like; but we says how could that 
 team we sent him with be a runaway team — ^how could a team 
 be called a runaway team when one of the horses ain't never 
 been hitched up before, and the other ain't run away not more'n 
 two or three times; but I guess sky-pilots are always unrea- 
 sonable!" 
 
 This conclusion seemed to satisfy Sylvane entirely; the un- 
 fortunate condition of the much-battered sky-pilot aroused 
 no sympathy in his adamantine heart, nor did he feel that the 
 
144 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 sky-pUot had the slightest cause for his suit, which later was 
 settled in a satisfactory maimer, but the conversation was typical 
 of that evening's ranch news by the big wood-fire. 
 
 Our day at the round-up was one of the most fascinating 
 days of my life, and I was proud to see that my city-bred brother 
 was as agile and as active in the duties of rounding up the great 
 steers of the plains as were the men brought up from their baby- 
 hood to such activities. We limched at midday with the round- 
 up wagon; rough life, indeed, but wonderfully invigorating, 
 and as we returned in the evening, galloping over the grassy 
 plateaus of the high buttes, I realized fully that the bridle-path 
 would never again have for me the charm it once had had. 
 Nothing in the way of riding has ever been so enchanting, and 
 the curious formation of the Bad Lands, picturesque, indeed, 
 almost grotesque in line, in conjunction with the wonderful 
 climate of that period of the year and the miagUng of tints ia 
 the sunset sky, resulted in a quality of color and atmosphere 
 the like of which I only remember in Egypt, and made as last- 
 ing an impression upon my memory as did the land of the Nile. 
 
 During our stay, my original failure to leap, on my arrival^ 
 "from the locomotive to the back of a bucking bronco" had 
 more or less been effaced from the memory of the cowboys by 
 subsequent adventures, and the last day that we spent imder 
 the cottonwood-trees, by the banks of the Little Missouri, was 
 made significant by the "surprise" gotten up by Merrifield and 
 Sylvane for the special edification of my brother and husband. 
 The surprise took the form of the "wrastling" of a calf by no 
 less a person than myself! Merrifield had taught me to rope 
 an animal, Sylvane had shown me with praiseworthy regularity 
 the method of throwing a calf, and the great occasion was 
 heralded amongst the other members of the party by an invi- 
 tation to sit on the fence of the corral at three o'clock, the last 
 afternoon of our visit to Elkhorn, and thus witness the struggle 
 between a yoimg woman of the East and a bovine denizen of 
 the Western prairies. The corral, a plot of very muddy groimd 
 
The Elkhorn Ranch 145 
 
 (having been watered by a severe rain the night before), was 
 walled in by a fence, and generally used when we wished to keep 
 the ponies from straying. On this occasion, however, it was 
 emptied of all but the calf, which was to be the object of my ef- 
 forts and prowess. I was then introduced by Merrifield, very 
 much as the circus rider used to be introduced in the early Bar- 
 num and Bailey days; then followed a most gruelling pantomime ^ 
 the calf, which was of an unusually impleasant size, galloped 
 around the corral and I, knee-deep in mud, galloped after it, 
 and finally succeeded in achieving the first necessity, which was 
 to rope it aroimd the neck. After that, the method of procedure 
 was as follows: The "wrastler" — on this occasion my unfor- 
 tunate self — ^was supposed to get close enough to the animal 
 in question to throw himself or herself across the back of the 
 galloping calf, with the purpose of catching the left leg of the 
 animal, the leg, in fact, farthest away from one's right arm. If 
 this deed could be accomplished and the leg forcibly bent under 
 the calf, both calf and rider would go down in an inextricable 
 heap, and the "wrastling" of the calf would be complete. 
 
 I can feel now the mud in my boots as I flotmdered with 
 agonized effort after that energetic animal. I can still sense 
 the strain in every nerve of my body as I finally flung myself 
 across its back, and still, also, as if it were only yesterday, do 
 I remember the Jellied sensation within me, as for some tortur- 
 ing minutes I lay across the heifer's spine, before, by a final Her- 
 culean effort, I caught that left leg with my right arm. The 
 cries of "stay with him !" from the fence, the loud hand-clapping 
 of the enthusiastic cowboys, the shrieks of laughter of my brother 
 and my husband, all still ring in my ears, and when the deed 
 was finally accomplished, when the calf, with one terrible lurch, 
 actually "wrastled," so to speak, fell over on its head in the 
 mud, all sensation left me and I only remember being lifted up, 
 bruised and encased in an armor of oozing dirt, and being carried 
 triumphantly on the shoulders of the cowboys into the ranch- 
 house, having redeemed, in their opinion, at least, the reputa- 
 
146 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 tion which my brother had given me before I visited the Bad 
 Lands. 
 
 Years later, when the yoimg owner of Elkhom Ranch had 
 reached the higher estate of President of the United States, I, 
 as the sister of the President, was receiving with my sister-in- 
 law at the breakfast in the White House, at his Inaugural in 1905, 
 and was attired in my best black velvet gown and "presidential 
 sister" white plumes; I was surrounded by senators and am- 
 bassadors, when suddenly, coming toward me, I recognized the 
 lithe figure of my brother's quondam cowboy, Will Merrifield. 
 He, too, had climbed the nmgs of the ladder of fame, and now, 
 as marshal of Montana, he had been intrusted by the State of 
 Montana with the greetings of that state for the newly inaugu- 
 rated President. Coming toward me with a gay smile of recogni- 
 tion, he shook me warmly by the hand and said: "Well, now, 
 Mrs. Douglas, it's a sight for sore eyes to see you again; why, 
 almost the last time I laid eyes on you, you were standing on 
 your head in that muddy corral with your legs waving in the 
 air." Senators and ambassadors seemed somewhat surprised, 
 but Will Merrifield and the President's sister shook hands gaily 
 together, and reminisced over one of the latter's most thrilling 
 life victories. But to return to our farewell to Elkhom Ranch 
 in i8go. 
 
 The three weeks' visit to the ranch-house had passed on 
 fleet wings, and it was a very sad little party that turned its 
 face toward Medora again, in preparation for the specially 
 planned trip to Yellowstone Park. Theodore Roosevelt, as one 
 may well imagine, was making a very real concession to family 
 affection by arranging this trip for us and accompanying us 
 upon it. What he loved was roughing it; near-roughing it was 
 not his "m6tier," nor, frankly, was it his "metier" to arrange 
 a comfortable trip of any kind. He loved wild places and wild 
 companions, hard tramps and thrilling adventure, and to be a 
 part of the type of trip which women who were not accustomed 
 
The Elkhorn Ranch 147 
 
 to actual hunting could take, was really an act of unselfishness 
 on his part. We paid huge sums for no comforts, and although 
 supposed to go-— as we were riding — ^where the ordinary trav- 
 ellers in stage-coach could not go in Yellowstone Park, yet there 
 were times when we seemed to be constantly camping in the 
 vicinity of tomato cans ! 
 
 I write again to my aunt two weeks after we start our Yellow- 
 stone experiences: 
 
 "We have had a most delightful two weeks* camping and 
 have enjoyed every moment. The weather has been cloudless, 
 and though the nights were cold, we were only really imcomfort- 
 able one night. We were all in the best of health and the best of 
 spirits, and ate without a murmur the strange meals of ham, 
 tomatoes, greasy cakes and coffee prepared by our irresistible 
 Chinese cook. Sreakfast and dinner were always the same, and 
 lunch was generally bread and cheese carried in our pockets 
 and eaten by the wayside. We have really had great comfort, 
 however, and have enjoyed the pretense of roughing it and the 
 delicious, free, open-air life hugely, — and such scenery ! Noth- 
 ing in my estimation can equal in imique beauty the Yellow- 
 stone canyon, the wonderful shapes of the rocks, some like 
 peaks and turrets, others broken in strange fantastic jags, and 
 then the marvellous colors of them all. Pale greens and yellows, 
 vivid reds and orange, salmon pinks and every shade of brown 
 are strewn with a lavish hand over the whole Cfinyon, — and 
 the beautiful Falls are so foamy and white, and leap with such 
 exultation from their rocky ledge 360 feet down. 
 
 "We had one really exciting ride. We had undertaken too 
 long an expedition, namely, the ascent of Mt. Washburn, and 
 then to Towers' Falls in one day, during which, to add to the 
 complications, Edith had been thrown and quite badly bruised. 
 We found ourselves at Towers' Falls at six o'clock in the eve- 
 ning instead of at lunch time, and realized we were still sixteen 
 miles from Camp, and a narrow trail only to lead us back, a 
 trail of which our guide was not perfectly sure. We galloped 
 
148 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 as long as there was light, but the sun soon set over the wonder- 
 ful mountains, and although there was a little crescent moon, 
 still, it soon grew very dark and we had to keep close behind 
 each other, single file, and go very carefully as the trail lay along 
 the mountainside. Often we had to traverse dark woods and 
 trust entirely to the horses, who behaved beautifully and stepped 
 carefully over the fallen logs. Twice, Dodge, our guide, lost the 
 trail, and it gave one a very eerie feeling, but he found it again 
 and on we went. Once at about 11 p. m., Theodore suggested 
 stopping and making a great fire, and waiting until daylight 
 to go on, for he was afraid that we would be tired out, but we 
 all preferred to continue, and about 11:30, to our great joy, we 
 heard the roar of the Falls and suddenly caine out on the deep 
 Canyon, looking very wonderful and mysterious in the dim star- 
 light. We reached our Camp after twelve o'clock, having been 
 fifteen hours away from it, thirteen and a half of which we had 
 been in the saddle. It was really an experience." 
 
 It was a hazardous ride and I did not terrify my aimt by 
 some of the incidents such as the severe discomfort suffered by 
 Mrs. Theodore Roosevelt when she was thrown and narrowly 
 escaped a broken back, and when a few hours later my own horse 
 sank in a quicksand and barely recovered himself in time to 
 struggle to terra firma again, not to mention the dangers of the 
 utter darkness when the small, dim crescent moon faded from 
 the horizon. My brother was the real leader of the cavalcade, 
 for the guide, Ira Dodge, proved singularly incompetent. Theo- 
 dore kept up our flagging spirits, exhausted as we were by the 
 long rough day in the saddle, and although furious with Dodge 
 because of his ignorance of the trail through which he was sup- 
 posed to guide us, he still gave us the sense of confidence, which 
 is one's only hope on such an adventure. Looking back over 
 that camping trip in the Yellowstone, the prominent figure of 
 the whole holiday was, of course, my brother. He was a boy 
 in his tricks and teasing, crawling under the tent flaps at night, 
 pretending to be the unexpected bear which we always dreaded. 
 
The Elkhorn Ranch 149 
 
 He was a real inspiration in his knowledge of the fauna and birds 
 of the vicinity and his willingness to give us the benefit of that 
 knowledge. 
 
 I find in my diary of that excursion a catalogue of the birds 
 and other animals which he himself had pointed out to me, mak- 
 ing me marvel again at the rapid observation which he had made 
 part of his ph3^cal equipment. I note: "During the first four 
 days we have been in the Park, we have seen chipmunk, red 
 squirrel, little black bear, elk watering with the horses, musk- 
 rat in the streams, golden eagle, Peregrine falcon and other varie- 
 ties, red-tailed hawk and pigeon hawk, Clark's crow, Canada 
 Jay, raven, bittern, Canada goose, mallard and teal ducks, chica- 
 dee, nuthatch, dwarf-thrush, robin, water oozel, sunbird, long- 
 spur, grass finch, yellow-crowned warbler. Rocky Mountain 
 white-throated sparrow, song-sparrow, and wren." 
 
 Each one of the above I saw with the eyes of Theodore Roose- 
 velt, and can still hear the tones of his voice as he described to 
 me their habits of life and the differences between them and 
 others of their kind. To him this trip must, of necessity, have 
 been somewhat dull, based as it was upon the companionship 
 of three women who were not hunters; but never once during 
 those weeks did he seem anything but happy, and as far as we 
 were concerned, to see the beauties of nature through those ar- 
 dent eyes, to hear the bird-notes through those ears, attuned to 
 each song, and to listen constantly to his stories of wood and 
 plain, his interpretation of the lives of those mighty pioneer 
 men of the West — all of this comes back to me, as a rare experi- 
 ence which I have gladly stored away in what Emerson calls 
 "the amber of memory." How we laughed over the strange 
 rules and regulations of the park ! Fierce bears were trapped, 
 but could not be killed without the kind permission of one of 
 the secretaries in Washington, the correspondence on the sub- 
 ject affording my brother infinite amusement. His methods 
 under like circumstances would have been so very different ! 
 
 The experiences at Elkhorn Ranch and again in the Yellow- 
 
150 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 stone Park were of special benefit to me from the standpoint 
 of the comprehension which they gave me of the absolute sym- 
 pathy which my brother felt both with the nature and the human 
 nature of the great West. No period of the life of Theodore 
 Roosevelt seems to me quite as important, in the influence which 
 it was to bear upon his future usefulness to his country, as was 
 that period in which, as man to man, he shared the vigorous 
 work and pastimes of the men of that part of our country. Had 
 he not actually lived the life not only of the hunter and cattle- 
 man, but had he not taken actual part as sheriff in the methods 
 of government of that part of our country, he would never have 
 been able to interpret the spirit of the West as he did. He would 
 never have been recognized as such an interpreter, and when 
 the time came that America could no longer look from an unin- 
 terested distance at the Spanish iniquities in Cuba, the fact that 
 Theodore Roosevelt had become so prominent a figure in the 
 West proved the essential factor in the flocking to his standard 
 of that mass of virile manhood which, under his leadership, and 
 that of the then irmy doctor, Leonard Wood, became the pic- 
 turesque, well-known "Rough Rider" Volunteer Cavalry of 
 the Spanish-American War. 
 
 At Elkhorn Ranch, also, the long silences and stretches of 
 solitude had much to do with the mental growth of the yoimg 
 man. There he read and wrote and thought deeply. His old 
 guide Bill Sewall was asked not long since about his opinion of 
 my brother as a religious man. His answer was as follows: "I 
 think he read the Bible a great deal. I never saw him in formal 
 prayer, but as prayer is the desire of the heart, I think he prayed 
 without ceasing, for the desire of his heart was always to do 
 right. " Thus, sharing the hardships and the joys of their primi- 
 tive life with his comrades of the West, the yoimg rancher be- 
 came an integral part of that country, which never failed to 
 rouse in him the spirit of high adventure and romance. 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt, himself, in a letter to John Hay, written 
 long after our visit to his ranch and our gay excursion to the 
 
The Elkhorn Ranch 151 
 
 Yellowstone, describes the men of that part of the world. He 
 was taking an extended trip, as President, in 1903, on the first 
 part of which journey Mr. Hay had accompanied him, and at 
 Os^ster Bay, on his return, he writes to his secretary of state 
 in order to give him further details of the trip: 
 
 "From Washington, I turned southward, and when I struck 
 northern Montana, again came to my old stamping grounds 
 and among my old friends. I met all kinds of queer characters 
 with whom I had hunted and worked and slept and sometimes 
 fought. From Helena, I went southward to Butte, reaching 
 that dty in the afternoon of May 27th. By this time, Seth Bul- 
 lock had joined us, together with an old hunting friend, John 
 Willis, a Donatello of the Rocky Moimtains, — wholly lacking, 
 however, in that morbid self-consciousness which made Haw- 
 thorne's 'faim' go out of his head because he had killed a man. 
 Willis and I had been in Butte some seventeen years before, 
 at the end of a hunting trip in which we got dead broke, so that 
 when we struck Butte, we slept in an outhouse and breakfasted 
 heartily in a two-bit Chinese restaurant. Since then I had gone 
 through Butte in the campaign of 1900, the major part of the 
 inhabitants receiving me with frank hostility, and enthusiastic 
 cheers for Bryan. 
 
 "However, Butte is mercurial, and its feelings had changed. 
 The wicked, wealthy, hospitable, full-blooded, little city, wel- 
 comed me with wild enthusiasm of a disorderly kind. The 
 mayor, Pat Mullios, was a huge, good-humored creature, wear- 
 ing, for the first time in his life, a top hat and a frock coat, the 
 better to do honor to the President. 
 
 "National party lines counted very little in Butte where 
 the fight was Heinze and anti-Heinze, Ex-Senator Carter and 
 Senator Clark beiag in the opposition. Neither side was willing 
 to let the other have anything to do with the celebration, and 
 they drove me wild with their appeals, until I settled that the 
 afternoon parade and speech was to be managed by the Heiaze 
 group of people, and the evening speech by the anti-Heinze 
 
152 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 people; and that the dinner should contain fifty of each faction 
 and should be presided over in his official capacity by the mayor. 
 The ordinary procession, in barouches, was rather more ex- 
 hilarating than usual, and reduced the faithful secret service 
 men very nearly to the condition of Bedlamites. The crowd 
 was filled with whooping enthusiasm and every kind of whiskey, 
 and in their desire to be sociable, broke the lines and jammed 
 right up to the carriage. . . . Seth Bullock, riding close beside 
 the rear wheel of my carriage, for there were hosts of so-called 
 'rednecks' or 'dynamiters' in the crowd, was such a splendid 
 looking fellow with his size and supple strength, iris strangely 
 marked aquiline face, with its big moustache, and the broad brim 
 of his soft dark hat drawn down over his dark eyes. However, 
 no one made a motion to attack me. . . . 
 
 "My address was felt to be honor enough for one hotel, so 
 the dinner was given in the other. When the dinner was an- 
 nounced, the Mayor led me in! — to speak more accurately, 
 tucked me under one arm and lifted me partially off the ground 
 so that I felt as if I looked like one of those limp dolls with dan- 
 gling legs, carried around by small children, like Mary Jane in 
 the ' Gollywogs,' for instance. As soon as we got in the banquet 
 hall and sat at the end of the table, the Mayor hammered lustily 
 with the handle of his knife and announced, 'Waiter, bring on 
 the feed.' Then, in a spirit of pure kindliness, 'Waiter, pull 
 up the curtains and let the people see the President eat'; — but 
 to this, I objected. The dinner was soon in full swing, and it 
 was interesting in many respects. Besides my own party, in- 
 cluding Seth Bullock and Willis, there were fifty men from each 
 of the Butte factions. 
 
 "In Butte, every prominent man is a millionaire, a gambler, 
 or a labor leader, and generally he has been all three. Of the 
 hundred men who were my hosts, I suppose at least half had 
 killed their man in private war or had striven to compass the 
 assassination of an enemy. They had fought one another with 
 reckless ferocity. They had been allies and enemies in every 
 
The Elkhorn Ranch 153 
 
 kind of business scheme, and companions in brutal reveby. As 
 they drank great goblets of wine, the sweat glistened on their 
 hard, strong, crafty faces. They looked as if they had come out 
 of the pictures in Aubrey Beardsley's Yellow Book. The mil- 
 lionaires had been laboring men once, the labor leaders intended 
 to be millionaires in their turn, or else to pull down all who were. 
 They had made money in mines, had spent it on the races, in 
 other mines or in gambling and every form of vicious luxury, 
 but they were strong men for aU that. They had worked, and 
 striven, and pushed, and trampled, and had always been ready, 
 and were ready now, to fight to the death in many different kinds 
 of conflicts. They had built up their part of the West, they 
 were men with whom one had to reckon if thrown in contact 
 with them. . . . But though most of them hated each other, 
 they were accustomed to take their pleasure when they could 
 get it, and they took it fast and hard with the meats and wines." 
 
 The above description by the pen of my brother is the most 
 vivid that could be given of a certain type of man of the West. 
 The types were many. . . . The Sylvane Ferrises and the Will 
 Merrifields were as bold and resourceful as these inhabitants of 
 the city of Butte and its vicinity, but for the former, life was 
 an advmture in which the spirit of beauty and kindness had its 
 share in happy contrast to the aims and objects of the men de- 
 scribed by my brother in this extraordinary pen-picture. The 
 picture is so forcibly painted that it brings before one's mind, 
 almost as though it were an actual stage-setting, this type of 
 American, who would appear to be a belated brother of the inen 
 of the barbaric period of the Middle Ages in the Old World, in 
 their case, however, rendered even more formidable by a New 
 World enterprise and acumen, strangely unlike what has ever 
 been produced before. 
 
 It was because of his knowledge of just such men, and of 
 the fact that they knew, although his aims were so different and 
 his ideals so alien to theirs, that the courage of his mental and 
 physical equipment could meet them on their own ground, that 
 
154 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt was respected and admired, although some- 
 times hated, by this type of himianity so opposed to the goals, 
 actual and spiritual, for which he worked so faithfully during 
 his whole valiant existence. They knew him for what he was, 
 and feared him for the qualities which he possessed in common 
 with them, and even more for the traits that they did not under- 
 stand, and which, to them, made him inevitably and forever 
 "The Mysterious Stranger." 
 
VII 
 TWO RECREANT NEW YORK POLICEMEN 
 
 Who serves her truly, sometimes saves the state. 
 
 — ^Arthur Hugh Clough. 
 
 There is sprung up a light for the righteous; and joyful gladness 
 for such as are true-hearted. — 97th Psalm. 
 
 THE years between 1890 and 1896 were busy years, with 
 devoted service as Civil Service Conunissioner, winters at 
 Washington and happy summers at Oyster Bay, when 
 Theodore Roosevelt gave himself up to family joy and the ac- 
 tivities of the growing children. In 1893 he writes most lov- 
 ingly of my children and his — his never-failing sympathy in 
 all the minor illnesses of my little family, expressed in the most 
 affectionate terms, and the common sorrow which we both suf- 
 fered in the loss of our devoted aunt, Mrs, James Grade, fills 
 many pages during those years. We met frequently during 
 the smnmer-time, and when we met he shared with me his many 
 Washington experiences, but the letters are largely to show me 
 his loving interest in the many details of my family life. 
 
 In August, however, he goes a little more fully into some 
 matters of public interest, and writes: "For the last fortnight, 
 I have virtually been living with Cabot, for I take all my meals 
 at his house, though I sleep at my own. [Mrs. Roosevelt and 
 the children were at Oyster Bay.] After breakfast, an hour 
 spent by Cabot and myself in gloomy discussion over the folly 
 of the Mug-wumps and the wickedness of the Democrats, I go 
 to the office and work imtil four or five o'clock, most of my work 
 taking the light but not always agreeable shape of a succession 
 of interviews of varying asperity with Congressmen; then I 
 
156 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 go to gruff old Olney's and play tennis with him and any other 
 stray statesman, diplomat or military personage whom he has 
 captured for an hour or two. Sometimes, Cabot and I dine 
 alone; more often, we have in one or two of our cronies such 
 as Tom Reed or Senator Davis of Minnesota. ... I think 
 the tariff deadlock will break in a day or two, when I shall be 
 left alone here with so much work on hand, however, that I fear 
 I shall not get away imtil the end of the month, when I shall 
 go back to Sagamore and Edith and the blessed bimnies." 
 
 The intimacy with Senator Lodge, the charm of his library, 
 where tradition and intellect always held sway, were amongst 
 the most delightful associations that Washington gave to my 
 brother during the many years spent there, both before the days 
 of the White House and later under its roof. 
 
 Late in August of that year my brother Elliott died. My 
 brother Theodore came to me at once and we did together the 
 things always so hard to do connected with the death of those 
 we love, and he writes me afterward: "The sadness has been 
 tempered by something very sweet when I think of the way I 
 was with you, my own darling sister." The quality of sharing, 
 which, as I always say, was one of his most marked attributes, 
 never showed more unselfishly than ia times of sorrow. Almost 
 immediately after the above letter, he encloses to me a clipping 
 from the newspaper of Abingdon, Va., about my brother Elliott, 
 who had lived there for some time in connection with the property 
 of my husband in the Virginia mountains. No one, not even my 
 brother Theodore himself, was ever more loved by those with 
 whom he came in contact than was the "EUie" of the early days 
 in 20th Street, and later wherever he went he found rare and 
 devoted friendship. The Virginian (the name of the Abingdon 
 paper) says: 
 
 "The New York papers announce the death of Mr. Elliott 
 Roosevelt. This gentleman has been a member of this com- 
 munity for the past two years, and although his stay was so 
 brief, it was long enough for him to make his impress as a whole- 
 
Two Recreant New York Policemen 157 
 
 souled, genial gentieman, courteous and kind at all times, with 
 an ever ready cheer for the enterprising or help to the weak. 
 His name was a bjrword among the needy, and his charities were 
 always as abundant as they were imostentatious. He was public 
 spirited and generous, this much we can truthfully say. His 
 influence and his aid will be missed, and more frequently than 
 is generally known among those to whom it was a boon." 
 
 After speaking of the enclosure, my brother continues: "My 
 thoughts keep hovering aroimd you, my darling sister, for I 
 know how you loved Elliott; what a gallant, generous, manly 
 boy he was. So many memories come back to me." 
 
 In 1895 he had been appointed police commissioner, and 
 was already in the thick of the hard fight to reform the Police 
 Department. He writes in August of that year: "Governor 
 Hill and I have had two savage tilts. I have not the slightest 
 idea of the ultimate results of our move on the excise question, 
 but we have made a good fight against heavy odds." Perhaps, 
 of all the pieces of work done by my brother, none stands out 
 more dearly than the splendid achievement of remaking the 
 Police Department into a fine working body, for which the whole 
 city of New York had the utmost respect, and on which it leaned 
 for safety and protection. I have but few letters from him dur- 
 ing that period, for, much to our delight, he was once more in 
 our midst, and many and many a time would I go down to the 
 old Vienna bakery on the comer of loth Street and Broadway, 
 and he would come from Mulberry Street, where his office was, 
 and together we would sit over the type of lunch he loved so 
 well: either bread and milk or a squab and caf& au lait. I can 
 still see Senator Lodge's expression when he joined us on one 
 of these simple occasions, and asked in a somewhat saturnine 
 manner whether any one could get a respectable lunch at the 
 place we loved so well ! What talks we had there over all the 
 extraordinary situations that arose in the Police Department. 
 There he described to me the delicious hiunor of the parade 
 inaugurated by the German brewer societies as a protest against 
 
158 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 his enforcement of the law. They were parading to show their 
 disapproval of him, but at the last moment, as a wonderful piece 
 of sarcasm, they decided to invite him to review the parade, 
 hardly thinking that he would accept the invitation. Need- 
 less to say, he did accept it, and leaning over from the platform 
 where he had been invited to sit, he saw the mass of marching 
 men carrying banners with "Down with Teddy," and various 
 other more unpleasant expletives. One company, as it passed 
 the reviewing-stand, called out: "Wo ist Teddy?" "Hier bin 
 ich," called out the poUce commissioner, leaning over the rail- 
 ing and flashing his white teeth good-humoredly at the protest- 
 ing crowd, who, unable to resist the simshine of his personality, 
 suddenly turned and, putting aside the disapproving banners, 
 cheered him to the echo. 
 
 It was during that same time, the story ran, that two recreant 
 policemen who left their beats at an inopportune moment were 
 called to the realization of their misdemeanor by coming face 
 to face, in a glass window-case, with a set of false teeth which, 
 they explained, grinned at them with a ferocity so reminiscent 
 of the strong molars of the police commissioner, that they almost 
 fainted at the sight, and hastily returned to their forsaken duties. 
 Many and many a settlement-worker told me in those days that 
 they could go an3rwhere in the most dangerous parts of the city, 
 during the administration of Theodore Roosevelt, and the police 
 were always on hand, always ready to protect those who needed 
 their care. 
 
 At that time also I was amused one day when he told me 
 the story about his little Irish stenographer, a young girl whose 
 knowledge of orthography was less than her sympathetic in- 
 terest in the affairs of the police commissioner! He took a 
 warm interest in the nice young Irish girl, hard worker as ^he 
 was, an important factor in the support of a large family of 
 younger children, and could not bear to dismiss her from his 
 service, in spite of her alarming mistakes in spelling. He said 
 he always had to look over her manuscript and correct it in spite 
 
Two Recreant New York Policemen 159 
 
 of his many other cares, and he laughingly remarked that it 
 was well he did, as having dictated the following sentence in 
 connection with a certain policeman, "I was obliged to restrain 
 the virtuous ardor of Sergeant Murphy, who, in his efforts to 
 bring about a state of quiet on the streets, would frequently 
 commit some assault himself," the young Irish stenographer, 
 listening to the rapid dictation, spelled "some assault" "somer- 
 sault," and, as my brother remarked, one could not but laugh 
 at the thought of Sergeant Murphy performing somersaults 
 like a circus clown on Mulberry Street, and, fortunately, the 
 word caught the ever-watchful eye of the police commissioner 
 before the report was printed, and, even in spite of the incon- 
 venience, he set himself to work to improve the young stenog- 
 rapher's mistaken orthographic efforts. 
 
 In spite of his busy days and busy nights, he had time, as 
 usual, to write to me when he thought that I needed his care 
 or interest. I was far from well at the time, but was obstinately 
 determined to go up to visit my boys at St. Paul's School, and 
 he writes me: "Won't you let Douglas and me go up to 
 St. Paul's, and you stay at home? If you will do this, I shall 
 positively go for anniversary on Jime 2nd. I believe you should 
 not go on these trips whether for pleasure or duty, and should 
 take more care of yourself. Your loving and anxious brother." 
 
 He himself has given in his autobiography many incidents 
 connected with his police commissionership. 
 
 The force were devoted to him, as were his Rough Riders 
 later, largely on account of the justice with which he treated 
 them, and the friendly attitude which he always maintained 
 toward them. Otto Raphael, a young Jew, and a young Irish- 
 man called Burke were two of the men whom he promoted be- 
 cause of unusual bravery, and their loyalty and admiration fol- 
 lowed Tiim unswervingly. On the sad day when he was carried 
 to the little cemetery at 037ster Bay, Burke— now Captain Burke 
 —had been put in charge of the police arrangements for the 
 funeral. As he stood by the grave, the captain turned to me. 
 
i6o My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 the tears streaming down his face but with a smile in his bhie 
 Irish eyes, and said: "Do you remember the fun of him, Mrs. 
 Robinson? It was not only that he was a great man, but oh, 
 there was such fun in being led by him. I remember one day 
 when he was governor, and I was in charge of him, and I was 
 riding by the side of his carriage down Madison Avenue, and he 
 suddenly stuck his head out of the window and, 'Burke,' said he, 
 'we are just going to pass my sister's house. I want to get out 
 and say "how do you do" to my sister.' 'I don't think you have 
 time, governor,' I said, 'I am afraid you are late now.' 'Oh, 
 now, Burke, I want you to meet my sister. Get somebody to 
 hold your horse,' he said; 'it won't take a minute.' And with 
 that he leaped out of his carriage and was ringing the front door- 
 bell in a flash. I followed him and I heard him call out to you, 
 Mrs. Robinson, that he had his friend Lieut. Burke with him, 
 and could he bring him up-stairs to shake hands, and sure 
 enough he did, and when I went down-stairs again I heard him 
 telling you some story, and the two of you were laughing fit to 
 kill. When I got back that night to my wife, I said: 'Susan, if 
 you are ever downhearted, all you have to do is to go up to 422 
 Madison Avenue when the governor stops to see his sister, and 
 hear them laugh.' " 
 
 The commissionership was a big job well done, and the city 
 of New York could not but feel a sense of great regret when 
 President McKinley promoted the active yoimg commissioner 
 to be assistant secretary of the navy in 1897. It was his pride 
 and one of bis greatest satisfactions in later years to feel that he 
 was instrumental in preparing our navy for the war with Spain. 
 For many years he had been convinced that the Spanish rule in 
 Cuba should not continue; and the condition in Cuba, he felt, 
 was too intertwiued with the affairs of the United States to be 
 differentiated from them. In the days of President Cleveland, 
 my brother had felt that action should be taken, and in the same 
 way he was convinced that Mr. McKinley was only putting off 
 the evil day by not facing the situation earlier in his incumbency. 
 
Two Recreant New York Policemen i6i 
 
 As was the case in almost every crisis which arose, either na- 
 tional or international, during my brother's life, he seemed to 
 have a prescience of the future, and, therefore, he almost invari- 
 ably— ^-sometimes before other public men were awake to the con- 
 tingency — sensed the need of taking steps to avert or meet dif- 
 ficulties which he felt sure would soon have to be faced. 
 
 The young assistant secretary of the navy was not very pop- 
 ular with the administration on account of the views which he 
 felt it his duty honestly to express. On March 6, 1898, he writes 
 to my husband: "Neither I nor anyone else, not even the Presi- 
 dent can do more than guess. We are certainly drifting towards 
 and not away from war, but the President will not make war, 
 and will keep out of it if he possibly can. Nevertheless, with 
 so much loose powder aroxmd, a coal may hop into it at any 
 moment. In a week or two, I believe, we shall get that report. 
 If it says the explosion was due to outside work, it wiU be very 
 hard to hold the country. [He refers to the blowing up of the 
 battle^p Maine in Havana harbor.] But the President un- 
 doubtedly will try peaceful means even then, at least, at first." 
 
 At the time of the writing of that letter, Mrs, Theodore 
 Roosevelt had been very ill and was still very delicate, and my 
 brother had not only the many worries of the department in 
 which he was working, as he himself puts it, "like a fiend, for 
 we have serious matters ahead," but he also had the great anxiety 
 of her condition on his heart. On the 28th of March: "I have 
 been working up to the handle here, and have about all I can 
 do on hand now. I have very strong convictions on this crisis, 
 convictions which, I fear, do not commend themselves to my 
 official superiors." And again on April 2, 1898, he writes in 
 full to my husband, who was always one of his most welcome 
 advisers: 
 
 Dear Old Man: ^^""^ Department, Aprfl 2, 1898. 
 
 In one way I was very much pleased at receiving your letter, 
 for it shows the thoughtfulness and affection you always feel 
 
1 62 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 for me. In another way your letter makes it very hard for me. 
 All my friends have written me as you have, and yet I am con- 
 vinced that you are all wrong. Do not misunderstand me. It 
 may well be that I can't get down with an Expeditionary force 
 even if , as I think unlikely, an Expeditionary force is started 
 before next fall. Indeed I think I shall probably have to stay 
 here, and I should certainly stay here until we got a successor 
 broken iu. But if I get a fair chance to go, or could make a 
 fair chance, I conscientiously feel that I ought to go. My use- 
 fulness in my present position is mainly a usefulness in time 
 of peace, because in time of peace the naval officers cannot speak 
 freely to the Secretary and I can and do, both to the Secretary 
 and President, even at the cost of jeopardizing my place. But 
 in time of war the naval officers will take their proper positions 
 as military advisers, and my usefulness would be at an end. I 
 should simply be one of a number of unimportant bureau chiefs. 
 If I went I shouldn't expect to win any military glory, or at the 
 utmost to do more than feel I had respectably performed my 
 duty; but I think I would be quite as useful in the Army as 
 here, and it does not seem to me that it would be honorable for 
 a man who has consistently advocated a warlike policy not to 
 be willing himseU to bear the brunt of carrying out that policy. 
 I have a horror of the people who bark but don't bite. If I am 
 ever to accomplish anything worth doing in politics, or ever 
 have accomplished it, it is because I act up to what I preach, 
 and it does not seem to me that I would have the right in a big 
 crisis not to act up to what I preach. At least I want you to 
 believe that I am doing this conscientiously and not from merely 
 selfish reasons, or from an impulse of levity. 
 
 I shall answer Corinne in a day or two. April 13th I was 
 to have been in Boston, but if we have trouble, I, of course, can't 
 get away. I hope Corinne will stay over the following Sunday, 
 so I may have a good chance to see her. 
 
 Faithfully yours. 
 
Two Recreant New York Policemen 163 
 
 The above is a most characteristic letter. Those who were 
 nearest to him, like myself and my husband, and even Senator 
 Lodge, were doubtful of his wisdom in leaving his important 
 position (I mean important for the affairs of the country, not 
 for himself) as assistant secretary of the navy to take active 
 part in the war, should war come, but he himself knew quite 
 well that being made of the fibre that he was, he must act up to 
 what he had preached. Nothing is more absolutely Theodore 
 Roosevelt, was ever more thoroughly Theodore Roosevelt, than 
 that sentence. "I have a horror of the people who bark but 
 don't bite. If I am ever to accomplish anything worth doing 
 in politics, or ever have accomplished it, it is because I act up 
 to what I preach, and it does not seem to me that I would have 
 the right in a big crisis not to act up to what I preach. At least 
 I want you to believe that I am doing this conscientiously and 
 not from merely selfish reasons or from an impulse of levity." 
 No sentence ever written by my brother more fitly expressed 
 his attitude toward conviction and acting up to conviction. 
 
VIII 
 COWBOY AND CLUBMAN 
 
 A RHYME OF THE ROUGH RHDERS 
 
 The ways of fate they had trod were as wide 
 
 As the sea from the shouting sea, 
 But when they had ranged them side by side, 
 
 Strenuous, eager, and ardent-eyed, 
 They were brothers in pluck, they were brothers in pride, 
 
 As the veriest brethren be. 
 
 They heard no bugle-peal to thrill 
 
 As they crouched in the tangled grass, 
 
 But the sound of bullets whirring shrill 
 From hidden hollow and shrouded hill; 
 
 And they fought as only the valiant will 
 In ^e glades of Guasimas. 
 
 Aye, they fought, let their blood attest ! — 
 
 The blood of their comrades gone; 
 Fought their bravest and fought their best, 
 
 As when, like a wave, in their zealous zest 
 They swept and surged o'er the sanguine crest 
 
 Of the heights of San Juan. 
 
 So here's to them all — a toast and a cheer ! — 
 
 Trom the greatest down to the least. 
 The heroes who fronted the deadliest fear. 
 
 Leader and lad, each volunteer, 
 The men whom the whole broad land holds dear 
 From the western sea to the east ! 
 
 —Clinton Scollard, 1898, 
 
 THOSE April days of 1898 in Washington were full of an 
 underlying current of excitement. Drifting toward war 
 we certainly were, and within a very short few weeks 
 the drift had become a fixed headway, and Captain Dewey, on 
 the receipt of a certain telegram from a certain acting secretary 
 
 164 
 
Cowboy and Clubman 165 
 
 of the navy, was to enter Manila Bay, and by that entrance, 
 and by the taking of Cavite, to change forever the policy of the 
 United States. Theodore Roosevelt had been criticised for the 
 amount of ammunition used in practice by the gunners of the 
 navy during the past spring. He knew only too well that the 
 real extravagance in either army or navy comes from lack of 
 foresight, and the fine marksmanship of the sailors and marines 
 was to prove a feather in the cap of the young assistant secre- 
 tary. 
 
 Everything was bustle and hurry toward the end of April. 
 Within a few days the assistant secretary was to become the 
 lieutenant-colonel of the Rough Riders, or, as they were at 
 first called, The First U. S. Volunteer Cavalry. Mr. McKinley 
 offered to Mr. Roosevelt the colonelqr of the regiment, but he, 
 with modesty and intelligence, refused the offer, knowing that 
 he was not as well fitted by experience for the position as was 
 his friend, Mr. McKinley's physician, that gallant surgeon in 
 the army, Leonard Wood, who had had as a younger man so 
 much experience in the campaign against Geronimo. The two 
 young men, within a year of each other in age, had been friends 
 for some time, having many tastes in common, and the same 
 stalwart attitude of unswerving Americanism. Their friend- 
 ship had been cemented during the spring of 1898 by the fact 
 that they felt that their views in connection with the mistakes 
 of Spain in Cuba were very sympathetic. On the long tramps 
 whidi they took together on those spring afternoons, they dis- 
 cussed the all-important question over and over again, and also 
 discussed the possibility of raising a regiment of men from the 
 fearless, hardy cowboys and backwoodsmen of the West. It 
 was no sooner known that Leonard Wood and Theodore Roose- 
 velt were about to raise a regiment to go to Cuba than every 
 sort and kind of individual flocked to their standard. The 
 mobilization of the regiment took place in San Antonio, Texas. 
 My brother writes to me on May 5, 1898, from Washington: 
 "You could not give me a more useful present than the 
 
1 66 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 watch. It was exactly what I wished. Thank old Douglas too, 
 for the watch and for his many many kindnesses. I hope to 
 leave to-morrow, but Wood, who is now in San Antonio, may 
 keep me here a day or two longer to hurry up the shipment of 
 the troops, rifles, etc. I much want to get with the regiment 
 to help get it into shape, but there will be many tedious and 
 irritating delays, of course. I have about twenty-five 'gentle- 
 men rankers' going with me from the Knickerbocker Club, and 
 twelve clean-cut stalwart yoimg fellows from Harvard,— such 
 fine bo)re. I feel rather like a fake at going, for we may never 
 get down to Cuba at all, and if we do, I do not think we shall 
 see very serious campaigning, while proper care will prevent the 
 serious risk of disease." 
 
 And again on May 8: 
 
 "Kenneth turned up just in time. [Referring to my hus- 
 band's yoimg Scotch cousin, Kenneth Douglas Robinson, asso- 
 ciated with my husband in business, who was confident that he 
 was doing the right thing to follow his hero, Theodore Roosevelt, 
 into the Spanish War.] I enlisted him and sent him off with 
 Bob Ferguson [another Scotch friend] and the rest. . . ." 
 
 And again on May 12, after I had sent him a poem, he 
 writes: 
 
 "My own darling sister: — ^I loved tne poem and I loved your 
 dear letter; it made me sure that you really knew just how I 
 felt about going. I cotdd not stay; that was the sum and sub- 
 stance of it; — although I realize well how hard it is for Edith, 
 and what a change for the worse it means in my after life. It 
 will be bitter if we do not get to Cuba, but we shall have to take 
 things as they come. Your own brother." 
 
 I had doubted whether it was his duty to go to Cuba, feel- 
 ing it might be even more his duty to remain in his important 
 and difficult position of assistant secretary of the navy, but Theo- 
 dore Roosevelt would not have been his true self imless he had 
 practised what he had preached so vigorously. 
 
 Keimeth Robinson writes on May 17 from San Antonio: 
 
Cowboy and Clubman 167 
 
 "Theodore has been drilling us the last few days. The men 
 always do their best when he is out. He would be amused in- 
 deed if he heard some of the adjectives and terms applied to 
 him, meant to be most complimentary but hardly fit for publica- 
 tion. We certainly are a curious aggregation, — cavalry men, 
 cowboys, college men, etc." 
 
 And Bob Ferguson, our very dear friend who had made 
 America his home, and was like a member of our family, writes 
 early in June: 
 
 "You should see some of the broncho busting that has been 
 going on daily in camp; — the most surprising horsemanship, 
 and though it cost about a man a day at first, knocked clean 
 out, the busted-rate is now diminishing. The men, as you can 
 imagine, are well satisfied with their commanders; Theodore 
 has a great hold on them, and before long he will be able to do 
 anything he likes with them. The Army officers said they had 
 never seen such a body of men. One of the troops from Arizona 
 came almost entirely from one large ranch; they all know each 
 other and will fight shoulder to shoulder. Our own troop — 
 'K' was rather a gay affair at first, a little gang of Fifth Avenue 
 'Dudes' having constituted themselves as leaders before Theo- 
 dore arrived, but now it has a large number of first rate cow- 
 pxmchers and sheriffs drafted into it, and has been increased 
 one-third beyond its normal strength. We are more or less in- 
 telligent, and are looked to as the possible crack troop." 
 
 It is interesting to look back and remember that that Com- 
 pany "K" was indeed a "crack troop," and the writer of the 
 above lines became one of its most gallant officers. What a body 
 of men they were ! The romance of mediaeval days was reborn 
 in that regiment, and the strange part of it all was that they 
 had so much of chivalry about them, in spite of the roughness 
 of the cowbo3re, in spite of the madness of the bronco-busters, 
 in spite, perhaps, of another type of madness injected into the 
 regiment by the Fifth Avenue "Dudes"; stiU, that body of 
 men, as a whole, stood out for gallantry and courage, and gen- 
 
1 68 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 tleness of spirit wherever gentleness of spirit was needed in the 
 hard days to come. There was a poem written at that time. 
 "The Yankee Dude'll Do," and I remember the little thrill with 
 which I read it, realizing how the names that up to that time 
 had been connected with rather gay and useless lives became 
 bywords for hard, persistent work "to make" good in the vari- 
 ous companies. 
 
 Theodore himself writes to me on June 7 in camp near 
 Tampa, Florida: 
 
 "First Regiment, U. S. Volunteer Cavahy, 
 
 "We are on the point of embarking for Cuba. Yesterday I 
 thought I was going to be left, and would have to stay on this 
 side during the first expedition for they intended to take but 
 four troops. Now, however, they intend to take eight, and 
 unless the transports give out, I shall go. I need not say how 
 rejoiced I am, for I could not help feeling very bitterly when it 
 seemed that I would.be left. This really is a fine regiment, and' 
 Coimt Von Goetzen and Capt. Lee, the German and English 
 Military Attaches, watched our gun drill yesterday in camp 
 with General Sumner, and all three expressed what seemed to 
 be sincere astonishment and pleasure at the rapidity with which 
 we had got the men into shape. I wish you could see how melan- 
 choly the four troops that remain behind feel; it is very hard 
 on them. I had the last two squadrons under my care on the 
 harassing journey on the cars and it was no slight labor. How 
 I would like to have Douglas as an officer in this reg^nent with 
 me. He would take to it just as I do. 
 
 " Well, if our hopes are realized, we sail tomorrow for Cuba, 
 but nobody can tell how many of us will get back, and I don't 
 suppose there is much glory ahead, but I hope and believe we 
 shall do our duty, and the home-coming will be very very 
 pleasant for those who do come home." 
 
 How my heart ached as I read those last words and realized 
 that the chances, in all probability, were strongly against his 
 coming home again. 
 
Cowboy and Clubman 169 
 
 On June 12: 
 
 Darling Cohinne : ^ ''""'^ U- S- Transport Yucatm. 
 
 I suppose it is simply the ordinary fortune of war for the 
 most irritating delays to happen, but it seems to me that the 
 people at Washington are inexcusable for putting us aboard 
 ship and keeping us crowded to suffocation on these transports 
 for six days in Tampa Harbor, in a semi-tropical sun. The men 
 take it with great resolution and good humour, but if we are 
 kept here much longer, it cannot fail to have a bad effect upon 
 them. We have been dismounted, but I care nothing for that 
 if only we are sent, and given a chance to get into the game. 
 I wish you could see or could have seen us at some of the crises 
 when, for instance, we spent all night standing up opposite a 
 railway track, waiting for a train to come, and finally taking 
 coal cars in the morning. 
 
 On the 14th he writes to my husband: 
 
 "We are about to sail and as we are at the mouth of the har- 
 bor, it is hardly likely that we can be recalled. ... It has 
 been most interesting even when the work was irritating and 
 full of worry. The regiment is a wonderful body of men and 
 they have taken to discipline with astonishing readiness and 
 are wild with eager enthusiasm. Those of us who come out of 
 it safe will be bound together all our lives by a very strong tie. 
 You may rest assured I haven't the slightest idea of taking any 
 risk I don't feel I absolutely must take." 
 
 There was no doubt of the strong tie that boimd the Rough 
 Riders, as they were later called, together. We always teased 
 my brother when, as President, he would suddenly announce 
 that "Happy Jack of Arizonia," or some such erstwhile comrade, 
 was eminently fitted for a position for which the aforesaid 
 "Happy Jack " did not seem to have strong qualifications. How 
 they loved their leader, and how that love was returned ! When- 
 ever my brother spoke of his "regiment" a note of tenderness 
 
lyo My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 came into his voice such as might be heard in the voice of a 
 woman when speaking of her lover. 
 
 That same day, Jmie 14, Bob Ferguson wrote to me: 
 
 "Theodore is absolutely radiating. He just lent me 'Vanity 
 Fair' in return for a box of peppermints, and it has been queer 
 just at this moment to read about old Curzon street and the 
 Brussels' Ball; but Becky made us laugh more than ever after 
 reading nothing but Tactics or a local newspaper for several 
 weeks. . . . This coimtry is becoming the laughing-stock of 
 the world at present, and the German experts really do not be- 
 lieve the United States can fight. It will bring on big world 
 complications unless they show their power soon." 
 
 The above opinion is interesting in the light of what the Ger- 
 man experts again felt about the United States before we en- 
 tered the Great War in 1917 ! 
 
 On June 15 a letter dated in the Gulf of Mexico runs as 
 follows: 
 
 "We are steaming southward through a sapphire sea, wind- 
 rippled under an almost cloudless sky. There are some forty- 
 eight craft in all, in three columns, — the black hulls of the trans- 
 ports setting off the gray hull of the man-of-war. Last eve- 
 ning, we stood up on the bridge and watched the red sun sink 
 and h'ghts blaze up on the ships for miles ahead, while the band 
 played piece after piece from the Star Spangled Banner (at 
 which we all rose and stood xmcovered) to The Girl I Left Be- 
 hind Me. It is a great historical expedition and I thrill to feel 
 that I am part of it. If we fail, of course, we share the fate of 
 aU who do fail, and if we are allowed to succeed, for we cer- 
 tainly shall succeed if allowed, we have scored the first great 
 triumph of what will be a world movement. All the young 
 fellows have dimly felt what this means, though the only ar- 
 ticulate soul and imagination among them belong, rather curi- 
 ously, to Ex-sheriff Capt. Buckey O'Neil of Arizona." 
 
 The above Buckey O'Neil, leaning over the rail at sunset, 
 would often quote Browning, my brother used to tell me, or 
 
Cowboy and Clubman 171 
 
 Whitman, or even Shelley. He was a real "Bret Harte " char- 
 acter, and one of my brother's greatest griefs in the days to 
 come was that that gallant officer was amongst the first to fall. 
 He had just exposed himself to Spanish fire somewhat imneces- 
 sarily, and my brother said to him: "Get down, Buckey; I 
 cannot spare you." The other laughingly replied, "There isn't 
 a bullet made that can kill me, Colonel," and literally, as he 
 spoke, a stray shot struck him and he fell dead across my broth- 
 er's knees. But to return: 
 
 June 20, 1898 — Troop Ship near Santiago. 
 All day we have steamed close to the Cuban coast; high 
 barren-looking mountains rise abruptly from the shore, and 
 at this distance look much like those of Montana. We are well 
 within the tropics and at night, the Southern Cross is low above 
 the horizon. It seems too strange to see it in the same sky with 
 the friendly Dipper. 
 
 And then later: 
 
 June 25, 1898 — Las Guasimas — 
 
 Yesterday we struck the Spaniards and had a brisk fight 
 for two and a half hours before we drove them out of their posi- 
 tion. We lost twelve men, killed or mortally wounded, and 
 sixty, severely or slightly wounded. Brodie was wounded, — 
 poor Capron and Ham Fish were killed; one man was killed as 
 he stood beside a tree with me, another bullet went through a 
 tree behind which I stood and filled my eyes with bark. The 
 last charge I led on the left using a rifle I took from a wounded 
 man. Every man behaved well; there was no flinching. The 
 fire was very hot at one or two points where the men around 
 me went down like nine-pins. We have been ashore three days 
 and were moved at once to the front without our baggage. I 
 have been sleeping on the ground in a mackintosh, and so 
 drenched with sweat that I have not been dry a minute day 
 and night. The marches have been very severe. One of my 
 
172 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 horses was drowned swimming through the surf. It was a fierce 
 fight; the Spaniards shot well, but they did not stand when we 
 rushed. 
 
 We received the details of the fight of Las Guasimas on the 
 4th of July, I remember, and all night long I sat on my piazza 
 on Orange Moimtain, thinking, with a strange horror, of the 
 danger in which my brother had been and still was. 
 
 On June 27, 1898, another letter, this time dated Santiago: 
 
 " We have a lovely camp here by a beautiful stream which 
 runs through jungle-land banks. The morning after the fight, 
 we buried our dead in a great big trench, reading the solemn 
 burial service over them, and all the regiment joined in singing 
 'Rock of Ages.' The woods are full of land crabs, some of 
 which are almost as big as rabbits; when things grew quiet, 
 they slowly gathered in gruesome rings around the fallen." 
 
 Bob Ferguson also adds interesting evidence to the courage 
 of the First Volunteer Cavalry under fire. 
 
 Las Guasimas — June 25, 1898. 
 Theodore and Wood are more than delighted with the con- 
 duct of the men. You never heard such a hail of shot. The 
 enemy, of course, knew when we would be in the jungle, and 
 we could only guess their whereabouts. Their volleys opened 
 up from all directions. Theodore did great work skipping from 
 one troop to another, and directed them as they were deployed, 
 but we can only trust that this kind of thing won't happen too 
 often, for fear of results. It was, in fact, a surprise party, how- 
 ever, an expected one. Our men rushed into a known ambush 
 with the careless dash of the cow-puncher. Once in, they lit- 
 erally had to hug the ground while the trees above and beside 
 them were torn to shreds. . . . Theodore has marked the Span- 
 iard all right — and the name of his regiment will never be spoken 
 of any too lightly. They really did not imderstand fear and 
 would willingly repeat the dose tomorrow. Poor Ham Fish,— 
 
Cowboy and Clubman 173 
 
 he was such a good-hearted, game fellow, and I got to like him 
 ever so much on the way down; — it is more than much now ! — 
 The Spaniards showed any amount of skiU in their tactics, and 
 only the extraordinary grit of our men undid their calculation, 
 together with the good work of a parallel column of Regulars, 
 who cleared the Spaniards off a flanking ridge in the forest in 
 the finest style — otherwise they could have out-flanked us on 
 either side and given us Hell in open sight. So far, it seems like 
 fighting an army of invisible Pigmies. . . . Kenneth was aw- 
 fully good yesterday after the fight. He was the first to volun- 
 teer to help the woimded when the entire troop was too exhausted 
 to move; — ^he carried them for hours imtU his back gave out. 
 . . . We really did splendidly yesterday. The Regulars are 
 to have their turn now. We have been blooded ourselves. We 
 lost too many officers. One little fellow, shot right through 
 both hips, was the greatest little sport. He refused to be at- 
 tended to until others were made comfortable, and he lay and 
 smoked his pipe patiently. One man walked to the hospital 
 with five wounds:— in the neck, right shoulder, right hand, left 
 thigh, and one other. 
 
 It is a matter of interest to print the above extracts, for even 
 when my brother wrote his book called "The Rough Riders," 
 he could not give quite the spirit which the letters, penned at 
 the moment of the happenings, can so fitly interpret. Bob Fer- 
 guson again, on July 5, gave an important description of my 
 brother: 
 
 Before Santiago, July 5, 1898. 
 
 We have been having the devil of a fine time of it, shooting 
 Spaniards, and being "stormed at by shot and shell." When 
 I caught up with Theodore, the day of his famous charge, (hav- 
 ing been held in the reserve line until tired of being pelted at 
 from a distance) "T" was revelling in victory. He had just 
 "doubled up" a Spanish officer like a jack-rabbit, as he re- 
 treated from a block house. . . . That same evening, having 
 
174 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 reached the most advanced crest possible, with about 300 men, 
 and having the whole Spanish Army firing at us from their en- 
 trenchments around the city, the summit of our ambition was 
 almost reached. 
 
 Theodore moved about in the midst of shrapnel explosions 
 like Shadrach, Meschach & Sons in the midst of the fiery furnace, 
 unharmed by the vicious Mauser balls or by the buzzing explod- 
 ing bullets of the Irregulars. . . . Theodore preferred to 
 stand up or walk about snufiSng the fragrant air of combat. 
 I really believe firmly now, that they cannot kill him. It looks, 
 too, somewhat as if they would not get a chance for a spell, for 
 our lines are around the Spanish Dog's throat, and he will be 
 smothered by our fire in a moment should the fight open once 
 more. It would seem a shame now to have to damage them any 
 more, for they say the streets are full of wounded and spent balls 
 shower among them. . . . Theodore has sure made his mark 
 on the Spaniard, — and the Rough Riders [the regiment had al- 
 ready ceased to be called the First Volunteer Cavalry, and was 
 never again known as anything but the Rough Riders] will re- 
 main — pitching bronchos and all, afoot or on horseback ! . . . 
 The "bob whites" whistle all aroimd these plantations, and 
 transport one straight back to Sagamore Hill on a summer's 
 day. The mountains here are glorious; the valleys, a dream 
 of drooping pahns, and dark, cool, shaded mangroves clustered; 
 soft bamboo waves near the creeks and smiling ridges, once all 
 under cultivation. 
 
 My brother himself, in a letter dated from Santiago, July 
 19, 1898, writes: 
 
 "Darling Corinne: — 'Trixunph tasted'! — for that, one will 
 readily pay as heavy a price as we have paid; but it is bitter 
 to think that part of the price was due to the mismanagement 
 of those in authority. The misery has been fearful. Today, 
 out of my four hundred odd men in camp, one hundred and 
 
Cowboy and Clubman 175 
 
 twenty-three are under the doctor's care. The rest of the six 
 hundred with whom I landed are dead or in the rear hospitals. 
 I cannot explain the breakdown of the transportation service, 
 the commissariat, or the hospital service." 
 
 I quote the above letter for the special purpose of recalling 
 to my readers the fact that Colonel Roosevelt was much criti- 
 cised later for instigating the writing of a "roimd-robin" letter 
 in the smnmer, urging the authorities to bring home the regi- 
 ments after the victory was won. Due to the "breakdown" 
 which he describes, the men were dying Uke flies, and had that 
 "roimd robin" (severely censured by my brother's enemies) 
 not been written, had the authorities at Washington not decided 
 to follow the suggestions of Theodore Roosevelt and order our 
 gallant men back from their death-trap, very few of that ex- 
 pedition to Cuba would have lived to tell the tale. At the end 
 of the above letter, after describing in full the sufferings of the 
 men because of lack of care, he says: 
 
 "They have been worn down by the terrific strain of fight- 
 ing, marching, digging in the trenches, during the tropical mid- 
 summer; they have been in the fore-front, all through, they 
 never complained though half-fed and with clothes and shoes 
 in tatters; but it is bitter to think of the wealth at home, which 
 would be so gladly used in their behalf if only it could be so 
 used. They are devoted to me, and I cannot get their condi- 
 tion out of my thoughts. If only you could see them in battle, 
 or feeding these wretched refugee women and children, whose 
 misery beggars description. [Did I not say that these wild, 
 strong men of the West were gentle in heart as well as fierce in 
 courage !] 
 
 "Well, it is a great thing to have led such a regiment on the 
 crowning day of its life. Young Burke [Eddie Burke] is well 
 and is a first-class man and soldier. I like and respect him. Bob 
 earned his promotion. The New York men have stood the strain 
 well. I felt dreadfully about Kenneth's woimd that day, but I 
 was near the line, with my men, nearest the Spaniard, and I 
 
176 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 could not have gone back or held back for my own son. No 
 man was ahead of me when we charged or rushed to the front 
 to repel a charge; and indeed, I think my men would follow 
 me literally anjnvhere. In the hard days I fared absolutely 
 as they did, in food and bedding, — or rather, the lack of both. 
 Now, yellow fever has broken out in the Army and I know not 
 when we shall get away, but whatever comes, it is all right and 
 I am content. Love to little Teddy and all the others. Your 
 brother." 
 
 The same day he wrote my husband: 
 
 "Two of our men have died of yellow fever. We hope to 
 keep it out of camp, and if we succeed, I trust we shall soon get 
 to Porto Rico. Whatever comes, I catmot say how glad I am 
 to have been in this. I feel that I now leave the children a mem- 
 ory that will partly offset the fact that I did not leave them much 
 money. I have been recommended for the Colonelcy of this 
 regiment, and for the medal of honor. Of course, I hope to get 
 both, but I really don't care very much, for the thing itself is 
 more important than the reward, and I have led this regiment 
 during the last three weeks, the crowning weeks of its life. There 
 is nothing I would have exchanged for having led it on horse- 
 back, where, first of all the army, we broke through the enemy's 
 entrenchments. By the way, I then killed a Spaniard myself 
 with the pistol Will Cowles raked up from the Maine. Of the 
 six hundred men with whom I landed, less than three hundred 
 are left; the others are dead or in the hospital; the mismanage- 
 ment has been beyond belief." 
 
 Alas, how sad it seems that the mismanagement should have 
 been beyond belief at such a time ! 
 
 On July 27 a letter dated "First Regiment, U. S. Volunteer 
 Cavalry, in camp near Santiago de Cuba," was received by my 
 husband. A very characteristic letter it was, fuU of the joy of 
 a fight well fought, and fuU also, of that tremendous human 
 S3ntnpathy with his men, combined with an intelligent practi- 
 cality which resulted later in the "round robin," requesting that 
 
Cowboy and Clubman 177 
 
 the men who had fought so bravely, should not be allowed to 
 die of disease unnecessarily by being retained for no good 
 reason in the broiling heat of a Cuban summer. 
 
 "Dear Douglas," he writes, "we had a bully fight at San- 
 tiago, and though there was an immense amoimt that I did not 
 exactly enjoy, the charge itself was great fun. Frankly, it did 
 not enter my head that I could get through without being hit, 
 but I judged that even if hit, the chances would be about 3 to 
 I against my being killed. 
 
 "As far as the political effect of my actions; — in the first 
 place, I never can get on in politics, and in the second, I would 
 rather have led that charge and earned my colonelcy, than serve 
 three terms in the United States Senate. It makes me feel as 
 though I could now leave something to my children which will 
 serve as an apology for my having existed. [How much his 
 existence needed an apology !] In spite of the strain, and the 
 anything but hygienic conditions under which we have lived, 
 I am in very good health. If we stay here all summer, we diall 
 have yellow fever among us, of course, but I rather think I will 
 pull through that too. I wish they would let us go to Porto Rico, 
 or if not, then let me get all my regiment tiigether in Maine or 
 somewhere like that and get them in trim for the great cam- 
 paign against Havana in tiie Fall. I wish you could see these 
 men. I am as proud of them as I can be, and I verily believe 
 they would go anywhere with me. They are being knocked down 
 right and left, however, with the fever. I shan't take any risks 
 xmless I really think I ought to, and now, I begin to believe that 
 I am going to get home safely." 
 
 A letter from Bob Ferguson about the same time backs up 
 his future position in regard to moving the men, and reiterates: 
 
 "It was a glorious spin, over trenches and barbed wires in- 
 stead of oaken panels, however. One never expects to see the 
 like again; — Corinne and Aima must have suffered terribly from 
 Theodore's wild, whirlwind career! His courage all through 
 was so simple and so true to him. The Spaniards laughed at 
 
1 78 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 the Cubans, and said they had no fighting to do until the Amer- 
 icans came; — they 'kept on coming.' One officer told Colonel 
 Wood that the Americans were 'magnanimous, brave, and fero- 
 cious.' If Cervera had stayed in harbor with his ships, we would 
 have been in the devil of a hole between starvation and fever. 
 It is ludky things went as they did." 
 
 And again, on August 6, he writes to me: 
 
 "These dreary Cuban days and dark and dismal nights are 
 drawing to a close for the time, — Thank the Lord and Theodore. 
 [The much-criticised "round robin" had had its effect.] It is 
 hardly fair to damn this coimtry that way, however, for in real- 
 ity, it is most inexplicably beautiful. In the sunshine of the 
 morning, when once in a while an almost refreshing breeze comes, 
 then the tropical valle3rs bask and smUe in the most enticing 
 luxuriance, and entrance one into lazy dreams of fairy-land. 
 The mass of the scarlet acacia, the trails of morning-glories, and 
 lilies, and the hot growth of all kinds, — above all, the graceful 
 and kingly royal palm and his harem, the slender, tall, clus- 
 tering bamboos, — are all lovely. These things by moon-light 
 were simply inexpressible; however, the real side of nature is 
 deadly sun, over-whelming, drenching rain, dark, drizzly mist 
 and dew, fever, malaria, filth, disgust with everything. Well, 
 this is at an end now, and almost time it were, for there would 
 not be many left to tell the tale if left here aU summer as the 
 President and Secretary proposed to leave us only a couple of 
 days ago, but Theodore 'sicked one' as your Stewart's whole 
 pack of pup-dogs could not commence to do. If we take a final 
 fall, it will be at Havana in the autumn and not with yellow fever, 
 if we can help it, here at Santiago. You all had a dreadful 
 time of it, probably far worse than we merry men of the Green- 
 wood. Honestly, while it is all going along and when there is 
 an advance, the spirits rise amazingly and one trips forward 
 as gaily as in Sir Roger or any other airy measure. That, how- 
 ever, is the one really satisfactory sensation. Lying passive in 
 reserve, and being searched and found by the long-range mausers 
 
Cowboy and Clubman 179 
 
 and shrapnel in the bushes, is not so cheerful an occupation; 
 in fact, it is a low proceeding altogether. 
 
 "Whooping along from time to time 'thoro bush — thoro 
 brier,' with a wildish throng, firing, cheering, laughing, and run- 
 niog, — that, is a very different story, and holding the advance 
 point in spite of orders to retire ( !) is another thing to make 
 even novices chuckle inwardly when they once feel they can do 
 it, — ^but Theodore was the sparkle to all that fun. 
 
 "I could make your flesh creep, however, with horror; mean- 
 while, you can picture to yourself in pleasant nightmares, flocks 
 of vultures and buzzards, the dead and wounded lost in the 
 tangled growth, — and swarms of crabs, — great big land crabs 
 with one, enormous, lobster-Uke claw, creeping, rustling, scuf- 
 fling thro' the dried aloes and pahnettoes. . . . War never 
 changes its hideous phantasms. The heroism of even modern . 
 men (and none the less of the women who let them go) is the one 
 thing to glory and hope in. We pack up tonight. My love to 
 aU." 
 
 And so ended the brief and glorious career of the Rough 
 Riders, a career which has about it a touch of Roland and Robin 
 Hood. These letters, written at the time, are valuable refuta- 
 tions of some bruited questions, and the very people who criti- 
 cised certain actions of my brother, at the time, would be the first, 
 I verily believe, now, to wish they had withheld their criticism. 
 
 The depleted regiment, emaciated beyond words, returned 
 to Montauk Point on Long Island, and my husband and I came 
 down from the Adirondack Mountains to meet them at Camp 
 Wyckoff. What a night we spent in a Red Cross tent at the 
 camp ! How we talked ! How good it was to greet the gallant 
 men again, so many of whom we knew and loved, and how in- 
 finitely interesting to come in contact with the wild Westerners 
 about whose courage and determination my brother had written 
 such glowing accounts. 
 
 In the last letter my brother wrote to my husband from San- 
 tiago, the sentence "As for the political effect of my actions. 
 
i8o My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 I never can get on in politics" was soon to be refuted, for hardly 
 had he arrived at Montauk than the politicians flocked sur- 
 reptitiously to sound him as to the possibility of his running 
 for governor of New York State, but that's another story ! 
 
 The throb of parting from their leader was soon to be experi- 
 enced by the gallant men who had followed Theodore Roose- 
 velt so eagerly in the Cuban jungles. Picturesque to the end, 
 the mustering out of the Rough Riders, imder blue autumnal 
 skies at Montaiik Point, was the culmination of its romantic 
 career, and many a ferocious fighter and wild bronco-buster 
 turned from the last hand-clasp of his colonel with tears in the 
 eyes which had not flinched before the fiercest Spanish onslaught. 
 
IX 
 
 THE ROUGH RIDER STORMS THE CAPITOL 
 AT ALBANY 
 
 THE MAN WHO CAN 
 
 (Old Saxon for "The King ") 
 
 Written of Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 How shall we know "the man who can"? 
 
 (That was the Saxon phrase, they say.) 
 Nay, perchance we shall find the man 
 
 Close to our hearts and hves to-day ! 
 
 Soldier and patriot, strong of hand, 
 
 Keen of vision to know the time, 
 Quick and true to the hour's demand. 
 
 Poet, too, without rime or rhyme ! 
 
 Poet, because through mists of sin 
 
 He finds the best as it yet shall be. 
 Faces evil, yet dares begin 
 
 To live the good that his soul can see. 
 
 Speech like an arrow, swift and straight. 
 
 Strength that smites to the core of wrong; 
 
 Smile that mocks but an adverse fate, 
 Heart of a boy, that leaps to song. 
 
 Honor scornful of life or place, 
 
 Courage brightest in sordid strife; 
 Such is the man whose first, best grace 
 
 Was the simple crown of a stainless life ! 
 
 — Marion Couthouy Smith. 
 
 IT could not have been a pleasant thought to Mr. Thomas 
 Piatt (the acknowledged Republican boss of New York 
 State, and a most interesting and unusual personality) when 
 he realized that the tremendous popularity of the colonel of 
 the Rough Riders would force him to accept the suggestion of 
 
 i8i 
 
1 82 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 some of the Republican leaders that this same colonel should 
 be the Republican nominee for governor that autumn of 1898. 
 The dash of the Rough Riders up San Juan Hill was not more 
 strenuous than Theodore Roosevelt's sudden and unexpected 
 storming of the Albany Capitol. What an autumn it was! 
 Every imaginable obstacle was put in the way of his success. 
 He was accused of not having paid his taxes; he was bitterly 
 impugned by a certain nimiber of his former friends and ad- 
 herents — Independents — who did not believe that he should 
 accept the "regular" nomination, and many and varied were 
 the battles fought about and around his personality. 
 
 The whole campaign had to be arranged so suddenly and 
 hurriedly that all kinds of amusing, although sometimes un- 
 pleasant, contretemps occurred. One remains clearly in my 
 mind. There was to be held near Troy a country fair. Its date 
 had apparently not been determined upon before my brother 
 had agreed to speak at what promised to be a large colored 
 meeting the evening of the same day on which the fair was to 
 be held. My brother had not expected to have to go to the fair, 
 but a sudden summons came, saying that it was very important 
 that he should appear and make an out-of-door speech to a large 
 concourse of up-state farmers. He was torn from Oyster Bay 
 at an abnormally early hour and dashed up to Troy. Mean- 
 while, the newspapers of Albany and Troy had announced that 
 he could not be present owing to his engagement for the eve- 
 ning in New York. The consequence was that the attendance 
 at the fair at the time he was supposed to speak was almost nil, 
 and he returned to New York much depressed at the apparent 
 lack of interest. I came in from my country home to dine with 
 him and go to the colored meeting. The colored people were 
 especially enthusiastic about my brother's candidacy, because 
 the Tenth Regiment of regulars, a colored regiment, had stormed 
 San Juan Hill side by side with the Rough Riders. The meet- 
 ing scheduled had been widely heralded, and we started for the 
 hall with the conviction that although the day had been a failure 
 
The Rough Rider Storms the Capitol 183 
 
 the night was going to justify our highest expectations. Arriv- 
 ing at the hall, one old man with a long gray beard, sitting in 
 the front seat, was apparently the total of the great audience 
 that had been promised. My brother and I waited in the little 
 room near the platform, anxiously peering out every now and 
 then, hoping that the hall would soon be filled to overflowing, 
 but no one came, and after an hour and a half of disheartening 
 disappointment, we shook hands warmly with the faithful elderly 
 adherent — ^who had remained silently in his seat during this 
 period of waiting — and left the hall. My brother, in spite of 
 distinct distress of mind, turned laughingly to me as we walked 
 rapidly away and said, quoting from Maria Edgeworth's im- 
 mortal pages: "Little Rosamund's day of misfortunes!" The 
 next day the morning newspapers announced that the evening 
 newspapers had given the misinformation that the Republican 
 candidate for governor would not be able to return from the 
 Troy fair in time for the colored meeting, an annoimcement 
 which had so discouraged the colored folk that only one old man 
 had been true to his colors ! 
 
 From that day on, through the strenuous campaign, my 
 brother was known by the family entirely as "Little Rosamund." 
 
 Another evening comes back to my mind. My husband and 
 my brother had left me in my country home on the hill at Orange, 
 and they were supposed to return at eleven o'clock that night. 
 The last train arrived and my carriage returned from it empty. 
 I was worried, for they were so thoughtful that I felt they would 
 surely have telephoned to relieve my possible anxiety, and when 
 at twelve o'clock the telephone-bell rang, I ran to the instrument 
 expecting to hear a familiar voice, instead of which "I am a 
 World reporter" was what I heard, "and I would like to know 
 where Colonel Roosevelt and Mr. Douglas Robinson are." "I 
 cannot give you any information," I replied discreetly, and 
 more truthfuDy than usual, I confess. "It is very strange," 
 said the voice — a distant unknown voice at twelve o'clock 
 at night, when you are the sole occupant of a remote country 
 
184 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 house, always has a somewhat eerie effect — "for we have traced 
 them up to within the last hour and we cannot find them any- 
 where." A slight wave of apprehension passed over me, but 
 at the same time I was sufficiently confident of my two stalwart 
 gentlemen not to have any serious fear concerning their where- 
 abouts, and suddenly seized with an irresistible desire to be 
 "funny" — a perfectly inexcusable inclination in a political cam- 
 paign—I said to the reporter: "Wait one moment, please. Should 
 you by any chance discover the whereabouts of Colonel Roose- 
 velt and Mr. Robinson, would you be kind enough to let me 
 know where they are?" I have always remembered the sound 
 of the distant laugh of the man as I hurriedly put down the tele- 
 phone-receiver, fully realizing my mistake in becoming jocose, 
 and sure enough the next morning, in large headlines, appeared 
 on the front page of the World: "Mrs. Douglas Robinson has 
 no knowledge where Colonel Roosevelt and Mr. Douglas Robin- 
 son have spent the night." 
 
 Another incident that comes back into my memory was an 
 evening in Chickering Hall, almost immediately before Elec- 
 tion day, at which many well-known speakers were to make 
 their plea for the election of Theodore Roosevelt, and at which, 
 also, that most brilliant of speakers and charming of men, Mr. 
 Joseph H. Choate, was to bring the evening to a climax. As 
 Election day drew near, the great boss of Tammany Hall, 
 Richard Croker, forsook his usual methods of strict silence, and 
 began to be loquacious. Croker, when running a candidate, was 
 always very careful indeed to keep the mystery of the Wigwam 
 (Tammany) wrapped closely about him, but as the fight waxed 
 hot and heavy, he lost his control and said many a foolish thing, 
 and the Republican papers jubilantly announced that when 
 Croker began to talk, it meant that he knew that his cause was 
 lost. 
 
 At the meeting at Chickering Hall, when Mr. Choate rose 
 to make the final speech of the evening, he said: 
 
 "Ladies and gentlemen, it is late; you have heard many 
 
The Rough Rider Storms the Capitol 185 
 
 speakers and I shall be brief. All that I wish to do is to recall 
 to your minds a certain Bible story — ^you may not have the in- 
 ddent clear in your memory. I refer to the story of Balaam 
 and his ass ! " Here the learned speaker paused and his audience 
 concentrated their attention upon him, somewhat puzzled as 
 to what he was about to say. He continued: "You may remem- 
 ber that Balaam was riding upon the ass through a dark forest, 
 and that suddenly the ass stopped, and even more suddenly, 
 the ass spoke 1" Mr. Choate paused again, and the audience 
 suddenly rippled out their mirth and their realization that the 
 "ass" who spoke had a distinct reference to the utterances of 
 Croker. As the laughter grew louder, Mr. Choate suddenly 
 lifted his hand in the most impressive manner, and contiaued 
 in a serious tone full of dramatic power: "But, ladies and gentle- 
 men, you have perhaps forgotten why the ass spoke. The reason 
 that he did so was because directly in his path, in shining gar- 
 ments, stood a young man with a flaming sword in his hand V* 
 As one man the audience rose to its feet! Simultaneously, a 
 great cheer rose to the lips of every one present, for the figure 
 of speech had done its work, and each person in the house vis- 
 ualized the figure of Theodore Roosevelt, ardent and young, 
 courageous and honest, truly "a young man with a flaming 
 sword in his hand ! " 
 
 Election day came and with it an overwhelming victory for 
 the man who so lately had written to Douglas Robinson: "As 
 for the political effect of my actions, I never can get on in 
 politics." 
 
 During his inciunbency as governor of New York State he 
 alwa}rs made his headquarters either at the house of my sister, 
 Mrs. Cowles, or at my house, and many were the famous break- 
 fast-parties at 422 Madison Avenue in those strenuous daj^. 
 He was criticised for breakfasting with Mr. Piatt and Mr. Odell 
 (Mr. Piatt's associate boss), but almost all of those much-dis- 
 cussed meals took place at my own house, and many a time 
 Messrs. Piatt and Odell had the unusual experience of finding 
 
1 86 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 that they were apparently expected to sit upon one chiur, as 
 my brother had invited so many more people to breakfast than 
 could possibly be seated at my comparatively small table. After 
 breakfast was over, Mr. Piatt would say in a rather stem man- 
 ner, "And now, Governor Roosevelt, I should like to have a 
 private word with you," and my brother would answer, "Why, 
 certainly, Mr. Piatt, we wiD go right up to my sister's library— 
 good-by, gentlemen," turning to his other guests, and then to 
 Mr. Piatt again, "We shall be quite private except for my sister. 
 I always like to have her present at all my conferences. She 
 takes so much interest in what I am doing !" This with a hu- 
 morous side-glance at me, knowing how irritating my presence 
 was to the gentleman in question. I can bear witness to the 
 fact that through those many conferences my brother's cour- 
 tesy to the brilliant older man never failed, nor did he ever lose 
 his independent outlook or action. My brother's effort to work 
 with Mr. Piatt rather than against him also never faUed, and 
 many a time I have heard him say: "Mr. Piatt, I would rather 
 accept your suggestion of an appointee than that of any one 
 else if you will suggest as good and honorable a man as any one 
 else. I want to work with you and I know that your great infor- 
 mation about Republican affairs is of enormous value to me, 
 but I must reserve my own power of decision in all matters, 
 although I hope always to be in accord with you." 
 
 The Rough Riders were always turning up on every occasion, 
 or if they did not actually turn up in propria persona, strange 
 letters on many and varied subjects came to my house from 
 them. Amongst these letters one arrived when my brother was 
 breakfasting with me one morning at my house. The mail that 
 morning was unique in more ways than one, for another letter 
 arrived with no name and no address on it. Instead of name 
 and address there was a drawing of a large set of teeth, and on 
 the reverse side of the envelope was written: "Please let Jack 
 Smith, 211 W. 139th Street, know whether this letter reaches 
 its destination. It is a bet and a lot of money hangs in the bal- 
 
The Rough Rider Storms the Capitol 187 
 
 ance" ! Those strong white teeth, which had been the terror 
 of the recreant policemen, were quite as much a factor at the 
 Capitol on the hill at Albany. 
 
 In the same mail, as I said, came a very characteristic epistle 
 from a Rough Rider, which ran as follows: 
 
 "Dear Colonol: Please come right out to Dakota. They 
 ain't treatin me right out here. The truth is, Colonel, they 
 have put me in jail and I ain't ought to be here at all, cause what 
 they say ain't true, Colonel. They say that I shot a lady in 
 the eye and it ain't true. Colonel, for I was shootin at my wife 
 at the time. — ^I know jwu will come and get me out of jail right 
 off, Odonel, — ^please hurry. J. D." 
 
 How my brother laughed as he turned the manuscript over 
 to me, and said: "They are the most unconscionable children 
 that ever were, but oh what fighting men they made !" 
 
 Another amusing incident occurred at the house of my sister, 
 where we were all lunching one day, having one of our merry 
 family reunions to meet the governor. My sister had just re- 
 turned from Europe with a "perfect treasure" of an English 
 butler, who had not yet become entirely accustomed to the 
 vagaries of the Roosevelt family ! We were in the midst of a 
 specially merry argument when the door-bell rang and the butler 
 left the dining-room to answer the bell. In a few moments he 
 returned with a somewhat puzzled expression on his face, and 
 leaning over my brother's chair, he said in a stage whisper: 
 
 "There is a there is a gentleman in the hall, sir 
 
 he says, sir, that his name, sir, is Mr. 'Happy Jack' of 
 
 Arizona." "Why," said my brother, leaping to his feet, "I 
 didn't know that 'Happy Jack' was in New York," and he hur- 
 rkdly left the room to welcome his precious Rough Rider. In 
 a few moments he came back literally doubled up with laughter, 
 and burst out: "You know, there has been a great deal in the 
 newspapers about the trouble that I have had with importunate 
 oflace severs, who have forced themselves, in a very disagree- 
 able way, into the executive mansion at Albany. Dear old 
 
1 88 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 'Happy Jack' read, way out in Arizona, about the annoyance 
 I was having with these people, and he just packed his kit and 
 came all the way from Arizona to o£fer to be 'bouncer-out' of 
 the executive mansion! Wasn't that fine of 'Happy Jack'!" 
 
 Several years later, when my brother was President of the 
 United States, I wis in England and I spent a week-end with 
 the St. Loe Stracheys in Surrey, where Lord and Lady Cromer 
 were also passing Sunday. Lord Cromer having, as a young 
 man, visited our Western plains and prairies, adored the stories 
 of the Rough Riders, and especially the incident of "Happy 
 Jack's" desire to become "bouncer-out" of the executive man- 
 sion. He loved the story so much that he insisted upon my 
 telling it to another English peer, in whom the sense of humor 
 was less striking than in Lord Cromer. I shall never forget the 
 
 dreary sensation of struggling to tell Earl S that particular 
 
 story. We were at a rather dreary garden-party, and Lord 
 Cromer had presented his friend for the special purpose of having 
 me tell this Rough Rider story. Much against my will, I ac- 
 ceded to his request, and the story seemed to get longer and longer 
 and duller and duller in the telling. Having mentioned the 
 "perfect treasure'' of a butler in the beginning of the tale, that 
 
 seemed to be the rudder to which Earl S clung through the 
 
 involutions of Rough Riderism, and as I stumbled on to the ever- 
 lengthening end of that xmfortunate anecdote, the English peer 
 in question turned to me as I fell into silence and said, coldly and 
 courteously: "Is that all?" "Yes," I said hastily, "quite 
 all." "Oh !" said my companion, with a sigh of relief, and then 
 feeling that he had not been quite sufficiently sympathetic, he 
 added courteously: "And did the butler stay?" When I re- 
 turned with this sequel to the story of "Happy Jack" of Arizona 
 and recounted it to my brother, he laughed immoderately and 
 said: "I know you must have suffered telling the story, but 
 that postscript to the story is worth all the pain you suffered." 
 
 One afternoon in May, I think in the year 1900, my brother 
 telephoned me that he wanted to bring several men to dinner 
 
The Rough Rider Storms the Capitol 189 
 
 the following day, amongst others, Mr. Winston Churchill, 
 of England, now so well known all over the world, but then 
 still very young, though having had many experiences as a writer 
 in connection with the Boer War. He was making a speaking 
 tour in America. As usual, the little party grew, and when we 
 assembled at dinner the following evening, dear old General 
 Wheeler (Fighting Joe), Mr. St. Clair McKelway, of the Brooklyn 
 Eagle, and one or two others, I remember being very much in- 
 terested in Mr. Churchill's method of probing Governor Roose- 
 velt's mind. The young Englishman, of mixed parentage, had 
 on his American side a certain quality unusual in the average 
 Englishman, and the rapid fire of his questioning was very char- 
 acteristic of the land of his mother's birth, while a certain "sure- 
 ness" of point of view might be attributed to both countries. 
 At one period during the dinner he referred to a certain incident 
 that had occurred in Africa, and relegated it to the action which 
 took place at Bloemfontein. My brother very courteously said: 
 "I beg your pardon, but that particular incident took place, 
 if I am not mistaken, at Magersfontein." The young English- 
 man flushed and repeated with determination that it had oc- 
 curred at Bloemfontein, and added the fact, which was already 
 known to us, that he had been there. My brother again, his 
 head a little on one side, and still most courteously, reiterated: 
 "I think, Mr. Churchill, if you will stop and think for a moment, 
 you will remember that I am right in this instance, and that 
 that incident took place at Magersfontein." Mr. Churchill 
 paused a moment in the ever-ready flow of his talk and then 
 suddenly, with a rather self-conscious frown, said: "You are 
 right, governor, and I am mistaken. It did occur at Magers- 
 fontein." This anecdote I give simply to show, what is known 
 by all who were intimate with my brother, namely, the extraor- 
 dinary accuracy with which he followed the affairs of the day, 
 and the equally extraordinary memory which retained the de- 
 tail of individual occurrences in a most unusual manner. In 
 the soft spring air we sat later in the evening by the open win- 
 
igo My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 dow while General Wheeler, son of the South, veteran of the 
 Civil War, and Theodore Roosevelt, son of the North, who had 
 so lately led his famous regiment through the Cuban jungles 
 in dose proximity to General Wheeler, told story after story of 
 the way in which, shoulder to shoulder, they had buried the old 
 differences in the new co-operation. 
 
 In May, 1899, 1 received one of the comparatively few letters 
 which came to me while my brother was governor, for we met 
 so frequently that we rarely wrote. The following letter, coming 
 as it did at the end of his first year of service as governor of New 
 York State, is of special interest. 
 
 "Darling Coiinne," he says, "your letter touched me deeply. 
 It was so good to catch a glimpse of you the other day. I 
 have accomplished a certain amount for good this year. I want 
 to see you and go over it all at length with you. In a way, 
 there is a good deal that is disappointing about it because I had 
 to act, especially towards ttie end, against the wishes of the ma- 
 chine people who have really given me my entire support, and 
 Tvith the reformers, labor and otherwise, who are truly against 
 me whenever it comes down to anything really important to 
 me. We have just returned from a really delightful driving 
 trip to a quaint, clean, little inn at Crooked Lake, some eighteen 
 miles off. We drove out there Saturday with every child except 
 Quentin, and back again on Stmday. Everjiliing went off with- 
 out a hitch and Edith and I enjoyed it as much as the children. 
 . . . My love to Douglas and to blessed little Corinne. Ever 
 yours, T. R." 
 
 Nothing was more discouraging to my brother during his 
 long and varied career than the fact that the so-called reformers 
 were frequently so visionary that they were rarely, if ever, to 
 be counted upon where an effort to achieve a distinct practical 
 purpose was concerned, but the disappointments which he per- 
 petually endured from this attribute never induced him to yield 
 to the machine politicians unless he felt that by so doing he 
 could achieve the higher end for which he always worked. 
 
The Rough Rider Storms the Capitol 191 
 
 A little later in May of that same year, 1899, he writes me 
 in patient answer to various questions: "In reference to my atti- 
 tude on the bills that have not passed, there are hundreds of 
 people to whom, if I had time, I shoidd explain my attitude, 
 but I have not the time. I have the gravest kind of doubts, for 
 instance, as to the advantages to the State of our High School 
 system, as at present carried out. ... I strongly believe that 
 there has been a tendency amongst some of the best educators 
 recently to divert from mechanical trades, people who ought, for 
 their own sake, to keep in at the mechanical trades." He was 
 always so willing to answer my questions, even when pressed by 
 many harassing affairs. 
 
 From Oyster Bay, on July 17, 1899, he writes as one freed 
 temporarily from the cares of state, and spealdng of my eldest 
 boy, who was then sixteen, he sa3rs: "I am afraid it is duU here 
 for Teddy. You see, we have no one here quite his age and 
 he has passed the time when such a simple pleasure as a scramble 
 down Cooper's Bluff appears enthralling, although I take him 
 down it nevertheless. He is a very fine fellow. ... I have 
 been giving him information about his hunting trip." Again 
 the painstaking effort to be helpful to me and mine, and, indeed, 
 all those who needed his help or advice. 
 
 On December 18, having returned to Albany, he plans a 
 hurried trip to New York, and writes characteristically: "On 
 Thursday, December 21st, may I have dinner at seven o'clock? 
 If you are going out, do remember, that seriously, I am quite 
 as happy with bread and milk as with anything else. Ever yours, 
 Theodore Roosevelt." What could be more unusual than the 
 governor of New York State being "quite as happy with bread 
 and milk as with anything else"! And I really think he was 
 rather happier with bread and milk than with anything else, 
 much to the occasional discomfort of the fastidious companions 
 who sometimes ran across his rather primitive path. 
 
 My last letter of that year, and, indeed, of the period during 
 which he was governor, was late in December, 1899, and it ran 
 
192 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 as follows: "On Saturday I find Senator Piatt wants me to 
 breakfast with him at the Fifth Avenue." That was one of 
 the rare occasions when the unfortunate senator induced the 
 governor to part from his sister, and the inevitable presence of 
 that sister at the conferences which Senator Piatt quite naturally 
 preferred to have alone with the governor. The letter continues: 
 "On Friday, at half past eight, General Greene, Mr. F. S. Wither- 
 bee, Mr. Fox and Mr. MacFarlane will give you the unexpected 
 pleasure of breakfasting with you. Is this all right?" Need- 
 less to say, it was all right; only, if I remember correctly, a large 
 munber were added equally imexpectedly to the four above- 
 mentioned gentlemen. Those breakfasts were the most delight- 
 ful of meals. My brother's friend Professor William M. Sloane 
 in later days was frequently a member of the breakfast-parties 
 at my house, and he used, laughingly, to remark that he won- 
 dered why we were all bidden so promptly at half past eight 
 when the gentleman who so sternly called others from their com- 
 fortable beds on cold winter mornings at that matutinal hour 
 seemed alwa3rs able to sit over the breakfast-table until about 
 eleven ! That, however, was not the case in those early guberna- 
 torial days, for the young governor was pressed with too many 
 affairs to yield to his Southern inclination to "brood" over the 
 breakfast-table. 
 
 In later dajrs at the rare periods of comparative leisure, be- 
 tween 1910 and 1912, the "half-hours at the breakfast-table" 
 were prolonged into several whole hours, and many a time my 
 friend Mrs. Parsons and I have listened to the most enchanting 
 discussions on the part of Colonel Roosevelt and Professor Sloane, 
 dealing occasionally with Serb or Rumanian literature or the 
 intricacies of Napoleonic history. 
 
 One limcheon dining the time that my brother was gov- 
 ernor stands out clearly in my mind, owing to an amusing inr 
 ddent connected with it. My dining-room at 422 Madison 
 Avenue was small, and fourteen people were the actual limit 
 that it could hold. One day, he having told me that he was 
 
The Rough Rider Storms the Capitol 193 
 
 bringing ten people to lunch, and realizing his hospitable inclina- 
 tions, I had had the table set for the limit of fourteen. We were 
 already thirteen in the sitting-room when the door-bell rang and, 
 looking out of the window, he turned to me with a troubled ex- 
 pression and said: "I think I see two people coming up the front 
 steps, and that will make fifteen." I suddenly decided to be 
 unusually firm and said: "Theodore, I have not places for fifteen; 
 you said there would only be ten. I am delighted to have four- 
 teen, but you wiU have to tell one of those two people that they 
 will have to go somewhere else for limch." He went out into the 
 hall, and in a moment returned with one of his beloved Rough 
 Riders and an air of triumph on his face. I whispered, "Were 
 tjiere really two, and who was the other, and what has happened 
 to him?" and he whispered back, like a child who has had a 
 successful result in some game, "Yes, there were two — the other 
 
 was the president of the University of • I told them they 
 
 had to toss up, and the Rough Rider won" — this with a chuckle 
 of delight! 
 
HOW THE PATH LED TO THE WHITE HOUSE 
 
 Frederic Mistral, the Provengal poet, said of Theodore Roosevelt: 
 C'est lui qiii donne une nouveUe esperance a I'humanite. 
 
 TOWARD the spring of 1900, while my brother was in his 
 second arduous year of activity as governor of New York 
 State, he came one afternoon to my house, as he frequently 
 did, for he made headquarters there whenever he was in New 
 York. I remember I was confined to my room with an attack 
 of grippe. The door-bell rang in the rapid, incisive way which 
 always marked his advent, and in a moment or two I heard him 
 come bounding up the stairs to my bedroom. He seemed to 
 bring the whole world of spring sunshine into the room with him, 
 and before I could say anything to greet him he called out: 
 "Pussie, haven't we had fim being governor of New York State ? " 
 I remember the grippe seemed to leave me entirely. My heart 
 was full of that elation which he alone could give by his power 
 of sharing everything with me. He sat down in a rocking- 
 chair by me and began to rock violently to and fro, every now 
 and then receding almost the whole length of the room as he 
 talked, and then rocking toward me with equal rapidity when 
 he wished to emphasize some special point in his conversation. 
 When he stopped for breath, I said laughiugly, but with a cer- 
 tain serious undertone in the midst of my laughter: "Theodore, 
 are you not going to take a complete rest some time this summer? 
 You certainly need it. It has been year after year, one thing 
 after £inother, more and more pressing all the time — civil service 
 commissioner, police commissioner, assistant secretary of the 
 navy, lieutenant-colonel, then colonel of the Rough Riders, 
 
 194 
 
How the Path Led to the White House 195 
 
 and all that that campaign meant, and now nearly two years of 
 hard work as governor of New York State. Surely, you must 
 take some rest this summer." 
 
 He looked back at me rather as one of my little hays would 
 look if I spoke to them somewhat harshly, and answered in a 
 very childlike way: "Yes, of course you are right. I do mean 
 to take a rest of one whole month this summer." I said: "That 
 isn't very much — one month, but still it is better than nothing. 
 Now, do you really mean that you are going to rest for one whole 
 month?" "Yes," he answered, as if he were doing me the great- 
 est possible favor, "I really mean to rest one whole month. I 
 don't mean to do one single thing during that month — except 
 write a life of Oliver Cromwell." How I laughed ! What an 
 idea of complete rest — to write a life of Oliver Cromwell ! And 
 write a life of Oliver Cromwell he did during that period of 
 complete rest, but before he was able to do it there came many 
 another stirring event and change in the outlook of his existence. 
 
 Messrs. Piatt and Odell, supposedly the arbiters of the fate 
 of every New York State governor, agreed that two years of 
 Theodore Roosevelt in the Executive Mansion at Albany was 
 quite enough, and that come what might, he should not have 
 another term, and so they bent all their subtle political acumen 
 toward the achievement of their wish to remove him. They 
 would, however, have been thwarted in their purpose had not 
 the Western part of our country decided also that Theodore 
 Roosevelt's name was necessary on the presidential ticket, to 
 be headed, for a second time, by William McKinley. 
 
 The yoimg governor, deeply absorbed in the many reforms 
 which he had inaugurated in the Empire State, was anything 
 but willing to be, as he felt he would be, buried in Washington 
 as viccrpresident, but as the time drew near for the Republican 
 Convention of June, 1900, more and more weight was thrown 
 in the balance to persuade him to accept the nomination. 
 
 I have frequently said in these pages that one of the most 
 endearing characteristics of my brother was his desire to have 
 
196 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 my sister and mjrself share in all of his interests, in his glory, 
 or in his disappointments, and so, when the convention at Phila- 
 delphia met, and as the contending forces struggled around him, 
 he telegraphed to my husband and myself, who were then at 
 our country home in New Jersey, and begged us to come on to 
 Philadelphia, and be near him during the fray. Needless to 
 say, we hurried to his side. 
 
 I shall always remember arriving at that hotel in Phila- 
 delphia. How hot those June days were, and how noisy and 
 crowded the corridors of the hotel were when we arrived ! Blar- 
 ing bands and marching delegations seemed to render the hot 
 air even more stifling, and I asked at once to be shown to the 
 room where Governor Roosevelt was. A messenger was sent 
 with me, and up in the elevator and through circuitous passages 
 we went, to a corner room overlooking a square. We knocked, 
 but there was no answer, and I softly opened the door, and there 
 sat my brother Theodore at a distant window with a huge 
 volume upon his knees. The soft air was blowing in the window, 
 his back was turned to the door, and he was as absolutely de- 
 tached as if vice-presidential nominations, political warfare, 
 illicit and corrupt methods of all kinds in public life were things 
 not known to his philosophy. I tiptoed up behind him and leaned 
 over his shoulder, and saw that the great volume spread out 
 before him was the "History of Josephus" ! I could not but 
 laugh aloud, for it seemed too quaint to think that he, the centre 
 of all the political animosity, should be quietly apart, perfectly 
 absorbed in the history of the Jews of a long-past day. As I 
 laughed, he turned and jumped to his feet, and in a moment 
 Josephus was as much a thing of the past as he actually was, 
 and Theodore Roosevelt, the loving brother, the humorous 
 philosopher, the acute politician, was once more in the saddle. 
 In a moment, in a masterly manner, he had sketched the 
 situation for me: *Yes, Piatt and Odell did want to eject him, 
 that was true, but it wasn't only that. The West felt strongly, 
 and the Middle West as strongly, that his name was needed on 
 
How the Path Led to the White House 197 
 
 the presidential ticket. No, he didn't want to give up a second 
 term as governor of New York State; he hated the thought of a 
 vice-presidential burial-party, but what was he to do? He 
 didn't really know himself.' 
 
 At that moment, without any ceremony, the door was thrown 
 open, and in marched the delegation from Kansas. Fife and 
 drum and bugle headed the delegation with more than discor- 
 dant noises. Round and round the room they went, monoto- 
 nously singing to the accompaniment of the above raucous in- 
 struments: "We want Teddy, we want Teddy, we want Teddy." 
 My brother held up his hand, but nothing seemed to stop them. 
 Over and over again they filed solemnly around that sitting- 
 room, and finally, forming in a straight line, they metaphorically 
 presented arms, and stood for a moment silently before him. 
 He stepped nearer to them and, with a somewhat anxious tone 
 in his voice, said: " Gentlemen of Kansas, I know that you only 
 want what is best for the country, and incidentally what you 
 think is best for me; but, my friends, I wish you would with- 
 draw your desire that I should be the candidate for the vice- 
 presidency. I want another term as governor of New York 
 State. I have initiated a good many reforms that I think 
 would help my native state. I have made many appoint- 
 ments, and the people I have appointed would feel that I have 
 gone back on them if I can't be there to help them with their 
 work. I am sure I could be of more use to my country as gov- 
 ernor of New York State than as vice-president. I wish you 
 would change your minds and help me to do the thing which I 
 think is the best thing to do." The delegation from Kansas 
 looked the pleader gently but fiamly in the eye. The fife and 
 drum and bugle struck up its monotonous soimd again. The 
 leader of the Kansas delegation turned, and, with all his fol- 
 lowers, once more they marched slowly and steadfastly around 
 that room, making no answer to Governor Roosevelt except the 
 indomitable refrain of "We want Teddy, we want Teddy, we 
 want Teddy," which sounded for a long while down the corridor. 
 
198 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 As we listened to their retreating footsteps, he turned to me 
 with a look of mingled amusement and despair in his eyes, and 
 said: "What can I do with such people? But aren't they good 
 feUows!" 
 
 And so, as is now well known to history, the Kansas delega- 
 tion and other like delegations had their way. Mr. Piatt and 
 Mr. Odell thought they had their way too, and at one of the most 
 exciting conventions at which I have ever been present — domi- 
 nated in masterful fashion by the unique personality of Mark 
 Hanna— Theodore Roosevelt was made the nominee for the 
 second place on the ticket of the Republican party of 1900. 
 One little incident occurred the next morning which I have 
 always felt had a certain prophetic quality about it. An article 
 appeared in one of the Philadelphia papers, signed by that 
 inimitable hiunorist, the brilliant philosopher, Peter Dimne, 
 alias "Mr. Dooley." I wish I could find the article — I kept it 
 for a long while — ^but this is about the way it ran: 
 
 "Tiddy Rosenfeldt came to the Convintion in his Rough Ri- 
 der suit and his sombrero hat and his khaki clothes, trying to look 
 as inconspichuous as possible, and as soon as he got there Piatt 
 fill on his chist and Odell sat on his stummick and they tried 
 to crush him and squeeze the life out of him. And they think 
 they have done it, and perhaps they have, but, Hinnessey, they 
 needn't be quite so sure, for Tiddy Rosenfeldt will get some- 
 where no matter what happens, even though the path lies through 
 the cimitery/" 
 
 Whether "Mr. Dooley" simply meant that as vice-presi- 
 dents had always been supposed to be dead men as far as future 
 preferment was concerned, or whether, with prophetic touch, he 
 visualized the horror that was to come, and the way in which 
 Theodore Roosevelt's path to a higher position actually did lie 
 "through the cemetery," I know not, but those were approxi- 
 mately the very words which appeared in that Philadelphia 
 newspaper the morning after Roosevelt was nominated as candi- 
 date for vice-president on the McKinley ticket. 
 
How the Path Led to the White House 199 
 
 Later in the autumn he started on one of the most strenuous 
 campaigns of his life, and swung around the country asking 
 for Republican support for William McKinley's second term. 
 Just before Election day he was to return to New York to 
 make his final address at Madison Square Garden. As usual, 
 he was to spend the night before and the night of the meet- 
 ing at my house. Just before he was to arrive I received a 
 telegram saying that his voice was entirely gone from the strain 
 of weeks of speaking, and would I please have a throat doctor 
 at the house on his arrival to treat his throat. Of course I ar- 
 ranged that this should be done, and he arrived, bright and gay, 
 although distinctly hoarse. The doctor treated him, and he 
 was ordered to keep perfectly still during the evening. We 
 went up to the library after dinner, and I said to him: "Now, 
 Theodore, we must only have a few minutes' talk, and then you 
 must go to bed." "But," he said, "I must tell you a few of 
 the very funny incidents that happened on my trip." And with 
 that he began — my husband and I feeling very conscience- 
 stricken, but so fascinated that we had not the strength of mind 
 to stop him. Suddenly, to our perfect surprise, the early morn- 
 ing light crept in through the windows, the milk-wagons began 
 to rattle in the streets, and we realized that the dawn of an- 
 other day had come, and that the future vice-president had out- 
 raged his doctor's orders and had talked all night long! And 
 such stories as they were, too; I shall never forget them. One 
 after another, he pictured to us the various audiences, the won- 
 derful receptions, the unique chairmen of the different meetings. 
 There was always a "bellowing" chairman, as he expressed it, 
 or else one whose ineffectual voice did not reach even the first 
 circle of the huge audiences that gathered ever)nvhere to hear 
 Mm. Out in the Far West ei^t-horse vehicles would meet 
 the trains on which the nominees travelled, and inadvertent 
 bands would blow in the ears of "shotgun" teams that had never 
 been hitched up before, with such astounding results as the com- 
 plete loss of the whole team at once, which necessitated the drag- 
 
200 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 ging of the carriage by ardent cowboy admirers, or, worse luck, 
 eventuated in terrif3dng runaways, which, however, never seemed 
 to produce anything but casual discomfort. 
 
 Mr. Curtis Guild, of Boston, and Judge John Proctor Clarke 
 accompanied Governor Roosevelt on this trip, and on one occa- 
 sion the aforesaid "bellowing" chairman introduced my brother 
 as "one whose name was known from shore to shore and whose 
 life story was part of every fireside, and whose deeds were house- 
 hold words from the Atlantic to the Pacific." Finding that this 
 introduction was greeted with vociferous applause, he then made 
 use of the same extravagant exaggeration in introducing Mr. 
 Guild. The only trouble in the latter case was that, after ster- 
 torously repeating the aforesaid introduction, the chairman 
 suddenly forgot the name of the second speaker, "so well known 
 from the Atlantic to the Pacific," and turned with solemn dis- 
 approval to the refined New England statesman, whispering 
 hoarsely: "What in h — is your name, anyway?" 
 
 Such were the tales with which he regaled us that too-short 
 night in November, 1900. Any other man, having so disobeyed 
 the doctor's stern commands to refrain from using his voice, 
 would have been pimished the following evening by not having 
 any voice at all; but, on the contrary, his tones were clear and 
 strong, his personality vital and inspiring, as he leaned from the 
 platform toward the thousands of cheering human beings in the 
 great Madison Square Garden, to put the finishing touch on that 
 stirring campaign for the second nomination of McKinley. 
 
 The inauguration in Washington, in March, 1901, had a 
 peculiar charm about it. Perhaps one felt this charm especially 
 because of the youth of the Vicp-President and of his wife, and 
 because of the contrast between those two happy young people 
 and the more serious President, weighed down as he was with 
 many cares, the greatest of which was his loving anxiety for his 
 fragile little wife. 
 
 Because we were the sisters of the Vice-President, Mrs. Mc- 
 Kinley sent for my sister, Mrs. Cowles, and me just after the 
 
How the Path Led to the White House 201 
 
 inauguration, and I remember very well the touching quality 
 of that dainty personality, in whose faded face was the remains 
 of exquisite beauty. She received us up-stairs in her bedroom, 
 and by her side was a table on which was a little Austrian vase 
 in which bloomed one superb red rose. As we sat down she 
 pointed to the rose with her delicate little hand, and said softly: 
 "My dearest love brought me that rose. He always brings me 
 a rose every day, Mrs. Robinson." And then, a faint smile flit- 
 ting over her face, she said: "My dearest love is very good to 
 me. Every evening he plays eight or ten games of cribbage 
 with me, and I think he sometimes lets me win." I remember 
 the feeling in my heart when she spoke those words, as I thought 
 of the man in the White House, oppressed with many cares; 
 even, perhaps, at the time when the shadow of the war with 
 Spain himg over his troubled head, sitting down with gentle 
 affection and quiet self-control to play "eight or ten games of 
 cribbage," "one for his nob, and two for his heels," with the 
 pathetic little creature from whom the tender love of his early 
 youth had never swerved. 
 
 The scenes outside of the White House connected with the 
 yOung Vice-President were very dififerent. In the home of my 
 sister, Mrs. Cowles, where we all stayed for the inauguration, 
 
 quaint happenings occurred. A certain Captain , a great 
 
 admirer of my brother, telegraphed that he was sending from 
 Thorley's florist shop in New York a "floral tribute" to be 
 erected wherever the Vice-President was stajdng. My sister's 
 house was moderate in size, but that made no difference to Cap- 
 tain . That "floral tribute" had to be erected. It cost, 
 
 if I remember rightly, in the neighborhood of three thousand 
 dollars. (My brother laughingly but pathetically said it was 
 about half of his income at the time, and he wished the tribute 
 could have been added to the income.) It had to be erected, 
 and erected it was. It arrived in long boxes, paiirfully sugges- 
 tive of cofi^, much to the delight of the young members of the 
 family, who were also staying with my always hospitable sis- 
 
202 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 ter. There, for a whole day, three men worked haggardly 
 building the "tribute," until the whole front room of my sisr 
 ter's house (which was much in demand for large numbers of 
 delegations who wished to pay their respects to my brother) 
 was filled in every nook and cranny by this enormous and mar- 
 vellous structure, which reached from wall to wall and up to the 
 ceiling. The overworked and tired men who created it were so 
 exhausted by the questions of the small members of the Roose- 
 velt and Robinson family that toward the end of the afternoon 
 they sent word to Mrs. Cowles that imless those children were 
 sent out of the house, that "tribute" would never be finished. 
 Finished it was, however, and we were almost suffocated by the 
 sweetness of its scents, and it was all that we could do, in spite 
 of our spontaneous gaiety, to rise above the semifunereal feeling 
 that this mass of conventional flowers produced upon the at- 
 mosphere of the whole house. 
 
 The inaugural baU was really a charming sight, but was 
 shadowed for the presidential party by the fact that Mrs. Mc- 
 Kinley was not well a short while before it took place. She was 
 able to be present, however, in her box, but the shade of sadness 
 was heavy on the President's face; and the people, for that very 
 reason, turned with peculiar pleasure to the care-free younger 
 couple, who were asked to come down from the box, and to walk 
 in stately fashion once around the room, to the infinite admira- 
 tion of the many interested observers. 
 
 After the inaugiu-ation my brother retired quietly to C)3rster 
 Bay, and it was from there on April 15, 1901, that he wrote me 
 one of his most characte;ristic notes. At that time, as in the 
 days of his governorship, he would frequently notify his friends 
 to meet him and lunch with him at my house, much to my de- 
 light. On this particular occasion, he had invited so incongruous 
 an assortment of people that he decided that one or two 
 more equally incongruous would be advisable, and writes 
 as follows: "Darling Corinne: Inasmuch as we are to have 
 Cocky Locky, Henny Penny and Goosey Poosey at lunch. 
 
How the Path Led to the White House 203 
 
 why omit Foxy Loxy? I am anxious to see Dr. R and I 
 
 do hope you will ask him to lunch on Thursday also. Ever 
 yours, T. R." 
 
 That lunch-party proved to be a great success, as did various 
 others later; and then came a moment, for me, of serious anxiety 
 when my eldest boy was stricken with diphtheria in college. At 
 once many loving letters came from Oyster Bay — and later, when 
 the young freshman had recovered from his illness, and I was 
 at my home on Orange Mountain, the newly inaugurated Vice- 
 President acceded to my wish that he should come to my home, 
 where my husband and I had lived all our yoimg married life, 
 and be the hero and excitement of the neighborhood at a recep- 
 tion on my lawn. It proved a hot day in July, but his pleasure 
 in meeting all my friends was unabated, and he took special 
 interest in my butcher and grocer and fish man and ice man, 
 and the kindly farming people who had been devoted to my 
 husband's mother as well as to me for many years. At the end 
 of the day he resuscitated with tender care an old veteran of 
 the Civil War, who had stumbled up the hill in the blinding heat 
 to pay his respects to the colonel of the Rough Riders, now Vice- 
 President of the United States. 
 
 That same summer he engineered a sailing trip for his little 
 bojTs and mine, and writes me in answer to a request from me to 
 know how much I owed for the trip: "About $12 would cover 
 completely your boys' share of the expenses. It is just like you 
 to want to pay it, but I would like to feel that for this trivial 
 matter your two boys were my guests. So if you don't mind, 
 I am going to ask you to sacrifice your feelings. As I have told 
 you the extent of the obligation, and it is surely not heavy, let 
 me continue to stand as the mimificent host !" 
 
 Once that simimer during his "month's rest," of which I 
 have already spoken at the beginning of this chapter, I spent 
 a night at Sagamore Hill, and "my sister-in-law, Mrs. Roosevelt, 
 said to me that she was anxious about my brother. The "rest" 
 did not quite agree with him, and the prospect of a more or less 
 
204 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 sedentary life in his new position weighed on the active initia- 
 tive of his mind. 
 
 A little later they went to a hunting-lodge in the Adirondacks, 
 and aU the world knows what happened on September 6, 1901. 
 Then came the great anxiety as to whether Mr. McKinley would 
 recover from the assassin's onslaught, and on September 14, he 
 succumbed to the weakness engendered by his woimd. While 
 the dramatic drive from the Adirondack Moimtains, where Theo- 
 dore Roosevelt was found, was in process, I, the only member 
 of the Roosevelt family near New York, was inundated in my 
 Orange Mountain home by reporters. That evening after re- 
 ceiving a number of reporters and giving them what slight in- 
 formation I could give, I said that I could not stand the strain 
 any longer, that I could not be interviewed any more, and with 
 the dear cousin, John Elliott, who had been our early childhood . 
 companion, and who happened to be visiting me, I went into 
 my writing-room, shut the door to the world outside, and a 
 strange coincidence occurred. My sister-in-law, Mrs. Theodore 
 Roosevelt, had shortly before returned to me a number of child- 
 hood letters which we had exchanged, first as little children, 
 and then as growing girls, for we had always been very intimate 
 friends. These letters were in a box on my writing-table, and 
 I said to my cousin John: "Let us forget all these terrible things 
 that are happening, and for a moment, at least, go back into 
 our merry, care-free past. Here are these letters. I am going 
 to pick one out at random and see how it will remind us of our 
 childhood days." 
 
 So speakiag, I put my hand into the box and proceeded to 
 draw out a letter. Curiously enough, as I opened the yellow 
 envelope and the sheets fell from it, I saw that it was dated 
 from Washington in 1877, and looking more closely I read aloud 
 the words: 
 
 "Dearest Corinne: Today, for the first time, I went to the 
 White House. Oh, how much I wished for you. It seemed so 
 wonderful to me to be in the old mansion which had been the 
 
How the Path Led to the White House 205 
 
 home of President Lincoln, and which is so connected with all 
 our country's history. It gave me a feeling of awe and excite- 
 ment. I wish you could have been here to share the feeling with 
 me, for I don't suppose it is likely that we shall ever be in the 
 White House together, and it would have been so interesting 
 to have exchanged our memories of things that had happened 
 in that wonderful old house. But how unlikely it is that you 
 or I shall ever come in contact with anything connected with 
 the White House." 
 
 As I read these words, I exclaimed with astonishment, for it 
 did seem a curious freak of fate that almost at the very moment 
 that I was reading the lines penned by the girl of fifteen, an un- 
 expected turn of the wheel had made that same young girl the 
 lady of the White House. 
 
XI 
 
 HOME LIFE m THE WHITE HOUSE 
 
 Uncrowned the brow, 
 
 Where truth and courage meet, 
 
 The citizen alone confronts the land. 
 
 A man whose dreamful, valiant mind conceives 
 High purpose, consecrated to his race. 
 
 — ^Margaret Ridgely Partridge. 
 
 THE deed of the cowardly assassin had done its work. Wil- 
 liam McKinley was dead; the young Vice-President had 
 made the hazardous trip from the heart of the Adiron- 
 dack Mountains, had taken the solemn oath in Buffalo, had 
 followed the body of his chief to the final resting-place, and had 
 returned to Washington. From Washington he telegraphed 
 to my husband and myself, with the thought which he always 
 showed, and told us that as Mrs. Roosevelt was attending to 
 last important matters at Sagamore, she could not be with him 
 the day he moved into the White House, and that he was very ' 
 anxious that not only my sister, Mrs. Cowles, and her husband, 
 but that we also should dine with him the first night that he 
 slept in the old mansion. So v/e went on to Washington, and 
 were with him at that first meal in the house for which he had 
 such romantic attachment because it had sheltered the hero 
 of his boyhood and manhood, Abraham Lincoln. As we sat 
 around the table he turned and said: "Do you realize that this 
 is the birthday of our father, September 22 ? I have realized it 
 as I signed various papers all day long, and I feel that it is a 
 
 206 
 
Home Life in the White House 207 
 
 good omen that I begin iny duties in this house on this day. I 
 feel as if my father's hand were on my shoulder, and as if there 
 were a special blessing over the life I am to lead here." Ahnost 
 as he finished this sentence, the coffee was passed to us, and at 
 that time it was the habit at the White House to pass with the 
 coffee a little boutonniere to each gentleman. As the flowers 
 were passed to the President, the one given to him was a yellow 
 saffronia rose. His face flushed, and he turned again and said: 
 "Is it not strange! This is the rose we all connect with my 
 father." My sister and I responded eagerly that many a time 
 in the past we had seen our father pruning the rose-bush of 
 saffronia roses with special care. He always picked one for his 
 buttonhole from that bush, and whenever we gave him a rose, 
 we gave him one of those. Again my brother said, with a very 
 serious look on his face, "I think there is a blessing connected 
 with this," and surely it did seem as if there were a blessing con- 
 nected with those years of Theodore Roosevelt in the White 
 House; those merry happy years of family life, those ardent, 
 loving years of public service, those splendid, peaceful years of 
 international amity — a blessing there surely was over that house. 
 
 Nothing could have been harder to the temperament of Theo- 
 dore Roosevelt than to have come "through the cemetery," as 
 Peter Dunne said in his prophetic article, to the high position 
 of President of the United States. What he had achieved in the 
 past was absolutely through his own merits. To him to come 
 to any position through "dead men's shoes" was peculiarly 
 distasteful; but during the early years of his occupancy of the 
 White House, feeling it his duty so to do, he strove in every pos- 
 sible way to fulfil the policies of his predecessor, retaining his 
 appointees and working with conscientious loyalty as much as 
 possible along the lines laid down by President McKinley. 
 
 That first winter of his incumbency was one of special inter- 
 est. Many were the difficulties in his path. England, and, in- 
 deed, all foreign countries were watching him with deep interest. 
 I realized that fact in a very special way as that very spring of 
 
2o8 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 1902 I took my young daughter abroad to place her at a French 
 school directed by Mademoiselle Souvestre in England. It was 
 the spring when preparations were being made for the coro- 
 nation of King Edward VII, and because of the fact that I was 
 the sister of the President of the United States, I was received 
 with great coiurtesy. Our dear friend Mr. Joseph H. Choate 
 was then ambassador to England. Mrs. Choate presented me 
 at coiu:t, and the King paid me the imusual compliment — out 
 of respect to my brother — of leaving the dais on which he and 
 the Queen stood, and came forward to greet me perso^ally in 
 order to ask for news of my brother. Special consideration 
 was shown to me in so many ways that when Mr. Robinson and 
 I were visiting Edinburgh, it seemed in no way imusual that we 
 should be invited to Hol3nrood Castle to the reception given by 
 the lord high commissioner. Lord Leven and Melville. It so 
 happened that we were in Edinburgh duriag that week of fes- 
 tivity when the lord high commissioner of Scotland, appointed 
 as special representative of the King of Great Britain, holds court 
 in the old castle as though he were actually the King. 
 
 We had dined with friends before the reception, and were 
 therefore late in readung the castle, and were literally the last 
 people at the end of the long queue approaching the dais on 
 which Lord and Lady Leven and Melville stood. As King Ed- 
 ward had himself stepped forward to meet me in Buckingham 
 Palace, I was not surprised when Lord Leven and Melville 
 stepped down from the dais, and I expected him also to ask news 
 of my brother, the President of the United States, as King Ed- 
 ward had done, but to my great surprise, and be it confessed 
 intense pleasure, I heard the lord high commissioner speak as 
 follows: "Mrs. Douglas Robinson, you have been greeted with 
 special courtesy in our country because of your distinguished 
 brother, the President of the United States, but I am greeting 
 you with even greater interest because of your father, the first 
 Theodore Roosevelt. You probably do not remember, for you 
 were a little girl at the time, that a raw-boned young Scotch- 
 
Home Life in the White House 209 
 
 man named Ronald Leslie Melville came long ago to New York 
 and was much at your home, having had letters of introduction 
 to your father as one of the men best fitted to teach him the 
 modern philanthropic methods used in America. Only to-day," 
 he continued, "I told the children of Edinburgh, assembled, 
 as is the custom, to listen to the lord high commissioner, that 
 the father of the present President of the United States was the 
 first man who taught me to love my fellow men." 
 
 My heart was very full as I made my courtesy and answered 
 the lord high commissioner. Before he let me pass on he said, 
 with a charming smile: "If you and Mr. Robinson will come to- 
 morrow to lunch with us quietly I will take you to Lord Dam- 
 ley's room, which is my dressing-room during the week of Holy- 
 rood festivities, and on my dressing-table you will see the photo- 
 graph of your father, for I never go anywhere without it." I 
 accepted the invitation gladly, and the next day we went to 
 Holyrood Castle, lunched informally with the delightful chatelain 
 and chatelaine, and I was taken, as the former promised, to see 
 Lord Damley's room, where my father's face smiled at me from 
 the dressing-table. My brother loved to hear me tell this story, 
 and I feel that it is not amiss to iaclude it in any recollections 
 concerning my brother, for he was truly the spirit of my father 
 reincarnate. 
 
 In May, 1902, Mrs. Roosevelt writes that "Theodore" is 
 just about to leave for a hunting trip, which she hopes will " rest " 
 him. (The rest the year before, of writing a life of Oliver Crom- 
 well, had not been made quite strenuous enough for a real rest !) 
 Later he returned and made a famous speech in Providence, a 
 speech epoch-making, and recognized as such by an English 
 newspaper. The Morning Post of August 27, 1902, a clipping 
 from which I have at hand, and which runs as follows : 
 
 "Our New York correspondent announced yesterday that 
 President Roosevelt's great speech at Providence on the sub- 
 ject of 'Trusts' is regarded on all sides and by both parties as 
 an absolutely epoch-making event. This is not surprising to 
 
2IO My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 those who have studied the conditions of American politics, 
 and the merits of the particular economic question involved, 
 so far as they are intelligible to us, or last but by no means least, 
 the character and personality of President Roosevelt. It would 
 now seem that the people of the United States are at the parting 
 of the ways between the corrupt, old political system and a newer, 
 manlier, honester conception of public rights and duties." 
 
 Perhaps this sentence foreshadows more than any other 
 contemporary expression the enormous instrument for honesty 
 in high places in the history of his coimtry which it was Theo- 
 dore Roosevelt's destiny to be. 
 
 Mingled with these great cares and far-reaching issues came, 
 later, brighter moments, and it was about that time that during 
 an interval of play at Oyster Bay, he started the custom of his 
 famous " obstacle walks." He would gather all the little cousins 
 and his own children and mine, if I could bring them down for 
 a week-end, on Sunday afternoon at Sagamore Hill (even an 
 occasional "grown person" was considered sufficiently adven- 
 turous to be included in the party), and would start on one of 
 the strenuous scrambles which he called an "obstacle walk." 
 It was more like a game than a walk, for it had rules and regula- 
 tions of its own, the principal one being that each participant 
 should follow the presidential leader "over or through" any 
 obstacle but never "aroimd." There were sometimes as many 
 as twenty Uttle children as we stood on the top of Cooper's Bluff, 
 a high sand-bank overlooking the Sound, ready for the word 
 "go," and all of them children were agog with excitement at the 
 probable obstacles in their path. As we stood on the brink of 
 the big sand-bank, my brother would turn with an amused 
 twinkle in his eye and say: "There is a little path down the side, 
 but I always jump off the top." This, needless to say, was in 
 the form of a challenge, which he always accompanied by a laugh 
 and a leap mto the air, landing on whatever portion of his body 
 happened to be the one that struck the lower part of the sand- 
 bank first. Then there would be a shout from the children, and 
 
Home Life in the White House 211 
 
 every one would imitate his method of progress, I myself, gen- 
 erally the only other grown person, bringing up the rear rather 
 reluctantly but determined not to have to follow the other im- 
 portant rule of the game, which was that if you could not succeed 
 in going "over or through" that you should put your metaphor- 
 ical tail between your physical legs and return home. You were 
 not jeered at, no disagreeable remark was directed at you, but 
 your sense of failure was humiliation enough. 
 
 Having reached the foot of the bank in this promiscuous 
 fashion, we would all sit on stones and take off our shoes and 
 stockings to shake the quantities of sand therefrom, and then 
 start on the real business of the day. With a sense of great ex- 
 citement we watched our leader and the devious course he pur- 
 sued while finding the most trying obstacles to test our cour- 
 age. I remember one day seeing in our path an especially 
 unpleasant-looking little bathing-house with a very steep roof 
 like a Swiss chalet. I looked at it with sudden dismay, for I 
 realized that only the very yoimg and slender could chin up its 
 slippery sides, and I hoped that the leader of the party would 
 deflect his course. Needless to say, he did not, and I can still see 
 the somewhat sturdy body of the then President of the United 
 States hurling itself at the obstruction and with singular agiKty 
 chinning himself to the top and sliding down on the other side. 
 The children stormed it with whoops of delight, but I thought 
 I had come to my Waterloo. Just as I had decided that the mo- 
 ment had come for that ignominious retreat of which I have 
 already spoken, I happened to notice a large rusty nail on one 
 side of the imfinished shanty, and I thought to myself: "If I 
 can get a footing on that nail, then perhaps I can get my hands 
 to the top of that sloping roof, and if I can get my hands there, 
 perhaps by Herculean efforts I too can chin myself over the 
 other side." Nothing succeeds like success, for having performed 
 this ahnost impossible feat and having violently returned into 
 the midst of my anxious group of fellow pedestrians, very much 
 as the little boy does on his sled on the steepest snow-clad hill, 
 
212 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 I was greeted with an ovation such as I have never received in 
 later life for the most difficult achievement, literary or phil- 
 anthropic! From that moment I was regarded as one really 
 fit to take part in the beloved "obstacle walks," which were, I 
 cannot help but think, strong factors in planting in the hearts 
 and characters of the children who thus followed their leader, the 
 indomitable pluck and determination which helped the gallant 
 sons and nephews of Theodore Roosevelt to go undaimtedly 
 "over the top" on Flanders Field. 
 
 "Over or through, never around" — a good motto, indeed, 
 for Young America, and one which was always exemplified by 
 that American of Americans, my brother, Theodore Roosevelt. 
 
 At the end of October that year, his affectionate concern 
 for me (for I was delicate at the time) takes form in a lovdy letter 
 in which, after giving me the best of advice, and acknowledging 
 humorously that no one ever really took advice offered, he 
 says: "Heaven bless you always whether you take my advice 
 or not." He never failed to show loving and tender interest in 
 the smallest of my pleasures or anxieties, nor did he and Mrs. 
 Roosevelt ever fail to invite, at my instigation, elderly family 
 friends to lunch at the White House, or gladly to send me auto- 
 graphs for many little boys, or checks to "Dolly," the nurse of 
 his childhood, whose advanced years I superintended. 
 
 In April, 1903, he started on a long trip, and at that time felt 
 that, as the years of his inherited incumbenqr were drawing 
 to a close, he could forward his own gospel. A humorous refer- 
 ence comes in a letter just before he starts, in which he says: 
 "I was immensely amused with Monroe's message [my second 
 son, then at St. Paul's School] about boxing and confirmation, 
 the one evidently having some occult connection with the other 
 in his mind. Give him my love when you write. . . . Well, 
 I start on a nine-weeks' trip tomorrow, as hard a trip as I have 
 ever undertaken, with the sole exception of the canvass in 1900. 
 As a whole, it will be a terrific strain, but there will be an occa- 
 sional day which I shall enjoy." 
 
Home Life in the White House 213 
 
 Again, as he actually starts on that "hard" trip, he sends me 
 a little line of never-failing love. "White House, April i, 1903. 
 [This in his own writing.] Darling Pussie: Just a last line of 
 Good-bye. I am so glad your poor hand is better at last. Love 
 to dear old Douglas. The house seems strange and lonely with- 
 out the children. Ever yours, T. R." Those little notes in 
 his own dear handwriting, showing always the loving thought, 
 are especially precious and treasured. 
 
 After that exhausting journey, replete with many thrilling 
 experiences, he returns to Oyster Bay for a little rest, and writes 
 with equal interest of the beautiful family life which was always 
 led there. My boy Stewart was with him at the time, and he 
 speaks of him affectionately in connection with his own "Ted," 
 who was Stewart's intimate friend: 
 
 "Stewart, Ted and I took an hour and a half bareback ride 
 all together. Ted is always longing that Stewart should go off 
 on a hunting trip with him. I should be delighted to have them 
 go off now. Although I think no doubt they would get into 
 scrapes, I have also no doubt that they would get out of them. 
 We have had a lovely summer, as lovely a summer as we have 
 ever passed. All the children have enjoyed their various ac- 
 tivities, and we have been a great deal with the children, and in 
 addition to that, Edith and I have ridden on horseback much 
 together, and have frequently gone off for a day at a time in a 
 little row boat, not to speak of the picnics to which everybody 
 went. 
 
 "In the intervals I have chopped industriously. I have seen 
 a great many people who came to call upon me on political busi- 
 ness. I have had to handle my correspondence of course, and 
 I have had not a few wearing matters of national policy, ranging 
 from the difficulties in Turkey to the scandals in the Post Ofl&ce. 
 But I have had three months of rest, of holiday, by comparison 
 with what has gone before. Next Monday I go back to Wash- 
 ington, and for the thirteen months following, there wiU be 
 mighty little let-up to the strain. But I enjoy it to the full. 
 
214 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 "What the outcome will be as far as I am personally con- 
 cerned, I do not know. It looks as if I would be renoniinated; 
 whether I shall be re-elected I haven't the slightest idea. I know 
 there is bitter opposition to me from many sources. Whether 
 I shall have enough support to overcome this opposition, I cannot 
 tell. I suppose few Presidents can form the slightest idea Whether 
 their policies have met with approval or not. Certainly / can- 
 not. But as far as I can see, tiiese policies have been right, and 
 I hope that time will justify them. If it doesn't why I must 
 abide the fall of the dice, and that is all there is to it. Ever yours, 
 T. R." 
 
 That letter is very characteristic of his usual attitude. Strain, 
 yes; hard work, yes; but equally "I enjoy it to the full"! 
 Equally also was he willing to abide by the "fall of the dice," 
 having done what he fully believed to have been the right thing 
 for the country. 
 
 That December, the day after Christmas, he writes 
 again: 
 
 "Darling Sister: I so enjoyed seeing you here, but I have 
 been so worried about you. I am now looking forward to Stew- 
 art's coming, and to seeing Helen and Ted. But I do wish you 
 would take a rest. 
 
 "We had a delightful Christmas yesterday, just such a Christ- 
 mas as thirty or forty years ago we used to have imder Father's 
 and Mother's supervision in 28 East 20th Street. At seven all 
 the children came in to open the big, bulging stockings in our 
 bed; Kermit's terrier, Allan, a most friendly little dog, adding 
 to the children's delight by occupying the middle of the bed. 
 From Alice to Quentin, each child was absorbed in his or her 
 stocking, and Edith certainly managed to get the most won- 
 derful stocking toys. . . . Then after breakfast we all went 
 into the library, where the bigger toys were on separate tables 
 for the children. I wonder whether there ever can come in life 
 a thrill of greater exaltation and rapture than that which comes 
 to one, say between the ages of six and fourteen, when the library 
 
Home Life in the White House 215 
 
 doors are thrown open and one walks in to see all the gifts, like 
 a materialized fairyland, arrayed on one's own special table. 
 
 "We had a most pleasant lunch at Bamie's [our sister, Mrs. 
 Cowles]. She had given a delightful Christmas tree to the chil- 
 dren the afternoon before, and then I stopped in to see Cabot 
 and Nannie [Senator and Mrs. Lodge]. It was raining so hard 
 that we could not walk or ride with any comfort, so Roly For- 
 tescue, Ted and I played 'single stick' in the study later. All 
 of our connections and all of the Lodge coimections were at dinner 
 with us, twenty-two in all. After the dinner we danced in the 
 'East Room,' closing with the Virginia Reel, — ^Edith looking 
 as young and as pretty, and dancing as well as ever. 
 
 "It is a clear, cold morning, and Edith and I and all the chil- 
 dren (save Quentin) and also Bob Ferguson and Cabot are about 
 to start for a ride. Your loving brother." 
 
 Such were all Christmases at the White House; such was 
 the spirit of the White House in those days. 
 
 During the early years of my brother's presidency, my hus- 
 band and I always spent Thanksgiving at the White House, 
 and joined in festivities very much like the Christmas ones, 
 including the gay Virginia reel, which was also part, alwa5rs, of 
 the Thanksgiving ceremony. After they bought a little place 
 in Vir ginia. ^ they spent their Thanksgiving anniversary there. 
 
 During the following winter, I visited the White House more 
 frequently than usual, and enjoyed the special ceremonies such 
 as the diplomatic dinner, judicial reception, etc., and I used 
 to station myself near the President when he was receiving the 
 long line of eager fellow citizens, and watch his method of wel- 
 coming his guests. Almost always he would have some spe- 
 cial word for each, and although the long line would not be held 
 back, for he was so rapid in speech that the individual welcome 
 would hardly take a moment, still almost every person who 
 passed him would have had that extraordinary sense that he 
 or she was personally recognized. It was either a reference to 
 the splendid old veteran father of one, or some devoted sacrifice 
 
2i6 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 on the part of the mother of another, or a deed of valor of the 
 person himself, or a merry reminiscence of hunting or Rough- 
 Rider warfare; but with each and every person who passed 
 in what seemed occasionally an interminable line, there was 
 immediately established a personal sense of relationship. Per- 
 haps that was, of all my brother's attributes, the most endear- 
 ing, namely, that power of his of injecting himself into the life 
 of the other person and of making that other person realize that 
 he was not just an indifferent liunp of humanity, but a li'mg 
 and breathing individual coming in contact with another in- 
 dividual even more vividly alive. 
 
 After my own visit of special festivity I apparently suggest 
 certain people for him to ask to the White House, or at least I 
 ask him to see them, for in a letter, also in his own handwrit- 
 ing, on February 21, 1904, he says: "Thank you for suggesting 
 F. W. I am glad you told me; it was thoughtful of you. I will 
 
 also try to see B , but I don't know whether it will do any 
 
 good. He is a kind, upright, typical bourgeois of the purely 
 mercantile type; and however much we respect each other, we 
 live in widely different and sundered worlds." So characteristic, 
 this last sentence. Willing he always was to try to do what I 
 wished or thought wise, but also he was always frank in giving 
 me the reason why he felt my wish, in some cases, would bear 
 but little fruit. The bourgeois, mercantile type did indeed live 
 in a different and sundered world from that of the practical 
 idealist, Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 In the summer of 1904, when again I was fax from well, he 
 writes from the White House, August 14: "Darling Coriime: 
 The news in your letter greatly worried me. I wish I could call 
 to see you and try to amuse you. I think of you always. Let 
 me know at once, or have Douglas let me know, how you are. 
 Edith came back here for a week with me, and we had a real 
 honeymoon time together. Then she went back to the chil- 
 dren. . . . Every spare moment has been occupied with pre- 
 paring my letter of acceptance. No one can tell how the elec- 
 
Home Life in the White House 217 
 
 tion will turn out; but I am more than content, whatever comes, 
 for I have been able to do much that was worth doing. With 
 love to Douglas and very, very much love to you, I am, Your 
 devoted Brother." In the midst of the pressing cares of the 
 administration and the fatigue of his letter of acceptance he 
 still has time for the usual unfailing interest in me and mine ! 
 
 On October 18, again my brother writes: 
 
 "Of course, I am excited about the election, but there really 
 isn't much I can do about it, and I confine myself chiefly to the 
 regular presidential work. Nobody can tell anjrthing about the 
 outcome. At the present time, it looks rather favorable to me." 
 And again to my husband on October 25: "As for the result, 
 the Lord only knows what it will be. Appearances look favor- 
 able, but I have a mind steeled for any outcome!" 
 
 In spite of his "mind steeled for any outcome," the one great 
 ambition of Theodore Roosevelt's life was to be chosen Presi- 
 dent on his own merits by the people of the United States. He 
 longed for the seal of approval on the devoted service which he 
 had rendered to his country, and one of my clearest memories 
 is my conversation with him on Election day, 1904, when on his 
 way back from voting at 03^ter Bay, I met him at Newark, 
 N. J., and went with him as far as Philadelphia. In his private 
 drawing-room on the car, he opened his heart to me, and told 
 me that he had never wanted anything in his life quite as much 
 as the outward and visible sign of his coimtry's approval of what 
 he had done during the last three and a half years. I frankly 
 do not feel that this wish was because of any overweening am- 
 bition on his part, but to the nature of Theodore Roosevelt 
 it had always been especially difficult to have come into the 
 great position which he held through a calamity to another 
 rather than as the personal choice of the people of the United 
 States. His temperament was such that he wished no favor 
 which he had not himself won. Therefore, it seemed to him a 
 crucial moment in his life when, on his own merit, he was to be 
 judged as fit or unfit to be his own successor. Not only for those 
 
21 8 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 reasons did he wish to be elected in his own right, but because, 
 as was the case in former days when he wished to be renominated 
 governor of New York State, he had again initiated many re- 
 forms, and had made many appointments, and he wished to 
 carry those reforms into effect and to back up those appoint- 
 ments with his own helpfuhiess and prestige. 
 
 When we parted in Philadelphia, I to return to my home in 
 Orange and he to go on to meet this vital moment of his career, 
 I remember feeling a poignant anxiety about the result of the 
 election, and it can well be imderstood the joy I felt that eve- 
 ning when the returns proved him overwhelmingly successful at 
 the polls. Late at night, we received a telegram from the White 
 House directed to Mr. and Mrs. Douglas Robinson in answer 
 to our wire sent earlier in the evening. It ran as follows: "Was 
 glad to hear from you. Only wish you were with us this evening." 
 The next morning I received a letter, only a few lines but in- 
 finitely characteristic. They were penned by my brother upon 
 his arrival at the White House after we had parted in Phila- 
 delphia, some hours before he knew anytidag of the election 
 returns. In this letter he describes his sudden reaction from 
 the condition of nervous excitement from which he had suffered 
 during the day. He says: "As I mounted the White House 
 steps, Edith came to meet me at the door, and I suddenly 
 realized that, after all, no matter what the outcome of the 
 election should prove to be, my happiness was assured, even 
 though my ambition to have the seal of approval put upon my 
 administration might not be gratified, — for my life with Edith 
 and my children constitutes my happiness." This little note 
 posted to me on the eve of his great victory showed clearly his 
 sense of proportion and his conception of true values. 
 
 On November ii, 1904, he writes again: "Darling Corinne: 
 I received your letter. I have literally but one moment in which 
 to respond, for I am swamped with letters and telegrams. We 
 have received between eight and ten thousand. I look forward 
 with keen eagerness to seeing you and Douglas." 
 
Home Life in the White House 219 
 
 And so the crucial moment was over, and by a greater ma- 
 jority than had ever before been known in this country, the 
 man of destiny had come into his own, and Theodore Roose- 
 velt, acclaimed by all the people whom he had served so faith- 
 fully, was, in his own right and through no sad misfortune. Presi- 
 dent of the United States of America. 
 
 Almost immediately after the excitement of the election, 
 namely, on November 12, 1904, my brother writes to my hus- 
 band: "If you and Corinne could come on with us to the St. 
 Louis Fair, it would be the greatest possible delight. Now, for 
 Heaven's sake, don't let anything interfere with both of your 
 coming." 
 
 Needless to say, we accepted the invitation joyiully, and 
 the trip to the St. Louis Fair was one of our most unique ex- 
 periences. Coming as it did almost immediately after the great 
 victory of his overwhelming election, wherever the train stopped 
 he received a tremendous ovation, and my memory of him dur- 
 ing the transit is equally one of cheering groups and swarming 
 delegations. 
 
 In spite of the noise and general excitement, whenever he 
 had a spare moment of quiet, I noticed that he always re- 
 turned to his own special seat in a comer of the car, and be- 
 came at once completely absorbed in two large volumes which 
 were always ready on his chair for him. The rest of us would 
 read irrelevantly, perhaps, talk equally irrelevantly, and the 
 hours sped past; but my brother, when he was not actually 
 receiving delegations or making an occasional impromptu speech 
 at the rear end of the car to the patient, waiting groups who 
 longed to show him their devotion, would return in the most 
 detached and focussed manner to the books in which he absorbed 
 himself. 
 
 Our two days at St. Louis were the type of days only led by 
 a presidential party at a fair. Before experiencing them I had 
 thought it would be rather " grand " to be a President's sister, with 
 the aforesaid President when he opened a great fair. "Grand" 
 
220 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 it certainly was, but the exhaustion outbalanced the grandeur. 
 I ran steadily for forty-eight hours without one moment's inter- 
 mission. My brother never seemed to walk at all, and my whole 
 memory of the St. Louis Fair is a perpetual jog-trot, only inter- 
 rupted by interminable receptions, presentations of gifts, lengthy 
 luncheons and lengthier evening banquets, and I literally re- 
 member no night at all ! Whether we never went to bed during 
 the time we were at the fair, or exactly what happened to the 
 nights after twelve o'clock, is more than I can say. At the end 
 of the time allotted for the fair, after the last long banquet, we 
 returned to our private car, and I can still see the way in which 
 my sister-in-law (she was not lorn a Roosevelt!) fell into her 
 stateroom. I was about to foUow her example (it was midnight) 
 when my brother turned to me in the gayest possible manner 
 and said: "Not going to bed, are you!" "Well," I replied, "I 
 had thought of it." "But no," he said; "I told my stenographer 
 this morning to rest all day, for I knew that I would need her 
 services to-night, and now she is perfectly rested." I interrupted 
 him: "But, Theodore, you never told me to rest all day. I have 
 been following you all day — " He laughed, but firmly said: 
 "Sit right down here. You will be sorry if you go to bed. I 
 am going to do something that is very interesting. William 
 Rhodes has asked me to review his second and third volumes of 
 the 'History of the United States.* You may have noticed I 
 was reading those volxmies on the way from Washington. I feel 
 just like doing it now. The stenographer is rested, and as for 
 you, it win do you a great deal of good, because you don't know 
 as much as you should about American history." Smilingly he 
 put me in a chair and began his dictation. Lord Morley is re- 
 ported to have said, after his visit to the United States, when 
 asked what he thought most interesting in our country: "There 
 are two great things in the United States: one is Niagara, the 
 other is ITieodore Roosevelt." As I think of my brother that 
 night. Lord Morley's words come back to me, for it seemed as 
 if, for once, the two great things were combined m one. Such a 
 
Home Life in the White House 221 
 
 Niagara as flowed from the lips of Theodore Roosevelt would 
 have surprised even the briUiant English statesman. He never 
 once referred to the books themselves, but he ran through the 
 whole gamut of their story, suggesting here, interpolating there, 
 courteously referring to some slight inaccuracy, taking up oc- 
 casionally almost a page of the matter (referring to the indi- 
 vidual page without ever glancing at the book), and finally, at 
 5 A. M., with a satisfied aspect, he turned to me and said: "That 
 is all about 'Rhodes's History.'" 
 
 I rose feebly to my feet and said: "Good night, darling." 
 But not at all — still gaily, as if he had just begun a day's work, 
 instead of having reached the weary, littered end of twenty- 
 four hours, he said once more: "Don't go to bed. I must do 
 one other piece of work, and I think you would be especially 
 interested in it. Peter Dunne — 'Dooley,' you know — ^has sent 
 me an article of his on the Irish Question, and wants a review 
 on that from me. I am very fond of Dimne, and reaUy feel I 
 should like to give him my opinions, as they do not entirely agree 
 with his in this particular article. I feel like doing this now. 
 Sit down again." He never asked me to do anything with him 
 that I ever refused, were it in my power to assent to his sugges- 
 tion. How I rejoice to think that this was the case, and there 
 was no exception made to my usual rule at 5 A. 11. that Novem- 
 ber morning. I sat down again, and sure enough, in a few mo- 
 ments all fatigue seemed to vanish from me, as I listened with 
 eager interest to his masterly review of Peter Dmme's opinions 
 on the Irish situation at that moment. It was a Uttle late, or 
 perhaps one might say a little early, to begin so complicated a 
 subject as the Irish Question, and my final memories of his dic- 
 tation are confused with the fact that at about 7 A. m. one of the 
 colored porters came in with coffee, and shortly after that I was 
 assisted to my berth in a more or less asphyxiated condition, 
 from which I never roused again until the train reached the sta- 
 tion at Washington. That was the way in which Theodore 
 Roosevelt did work. I have often thought that if some of us 
 
222 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 always had the book at hand that we wanted to read, instead 
 of wasting time in looking for it, if we always had clearly in our 
 minds the extra job we wanted to do, and the tools at hand with 
 which to do it, we might accomplish in some small degree the 
 vast nmnbers of things he accomplished because of preparedness. 
 As early as December 19, 1904, my sister-in-law wrote me: 
 "Theodore says that he wants you and Douglas under his roof 
 for the Inauguration." I always felt a deep appreciation of the 
 fact that both my brother and his wife made us so welcome at 
 the most thrilling moments of their life in the White House. 
 
 In January, 1905, he came to stay with me in New York 
 to speak at several dinners, and a most absurd and yet try- 
 ing incident occurred, an incident which he met with his usual 
 sunny and unselfish good humor. We had had a large luncheon 
 for Tn'm at my home, and when the time came for him to dress 
 in the evening for the dinner at which he was to speak, I sud- 
 denly heard a call from the third story, a pitiful call: "I don't 
 think I have my own dress coat." I ran up-stairs, and sure 
 enough the coat laid out with his evening clothes, when he tried 
 to put it on, proved to be so tight across his broad shoulders 
 that whenever he moved his hands it rose imexpectedly almost 
 to his ears. I called my butler, who insisted that he had taken 
 the President's coat with the rest of his clothes to brush, and 
 had brought it back again to his room. This, however, was im- 
 true, for the awful fact was soon divulged that the extra waiter 
 engaged for the limcheon, and who had already left the house, 
 had apparently confused the President's coat, which was in the 
 basement to be pressed, with his own, and had taken away the 
 President's coat ! No one knew at this man's house where he 
 had gone. There seemed no method of tracing the coat. We 
 dressed my brother in my husband's coat, but that was even 
 worse, for my husband's coat fell about him in folds, and there 
 seemed nothing for it but to send him to the large public dinner 
 with a coat that, unless most cleverly manipulated, continued 
 to rise unexpectedly above his head. No one but my brother 
 
Home Life in the White House 223 
 
 would have taken this catastrophe with unruffled gaiety, but 
 he started off apparently perfectly contented, rather than give 
 me a more dejected feeling than I already had about the mis- 
 adventure. I, m3rself, was to go later to the diimer to hear his 
 speech from one of the boxes, and I shall never forget my trepida- 
 tion when he began his address, as I saw the coat slowly rising 
 higher and higher. At the most critical moment, when it seemed 
 about to surmoimt his head, a messenger-boy, flurried and flushed 
 with exertion, ran upon the stage with a package in his hand. 
 The recalcitrant waiter had been foimd by my butler, and the 
 President's coat had been torn from his back. Excusing him- 
 self for a moment, with a laughing gesture which brought the 
 coat completely over his head he retired into the wings, changed 
 the article in question, and a few moments later brought down 
 the whole house by his humorous account of the reason for his 
 retirement. 
 
 On March 3, 1905, as the guests of my cousin Emlen Roose- 
 velt, who took a special car for the occasion, the members of 
 my family, my husband, and myself started for the inaugura- 
 tion of Theodore Roosevelt as President. Memories crowd 
 about me of those two or three daj^ at the White House. The 
 atmosphere was one of great family gaiety, combined with an 
 underlying seriousness which showed the full realization felt 
 by my brother of the great duties which he was again to assume 
 this time as the choice of the people. 
 
 What a day it was, that inaugural day ! As usual, the per- 
 sonal came so much into it. The night before, Mr. John Hay 
 sent him a ring with a part of the lock of Abraham Lincoln's 
 hair which John Hay himself had cut from the dead President's 
 forehead almost immediately after his assassination. I have 
 never known my brother to receive a gift for which he cared so 
 deeply. To wear that ring on the day of his own inauguration as 
 President of the United States, elected to the office by the free 
 will of the great American people, was to him, perhaps, the high- 
 est fulfilment of his desires. The day dawned dark and threaten- 
 
224 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 ing and with snow filtering through the clouds, but occasionally 
 rifts of sunlight broke through the sombre bank of gray. The 
 ceremonies were fraught, to those of us who loved him so deeply, 
 with great solemnity. The Vice-President taking his oath in 
 the senate-chamber, the arrival there of the judges of the Su- 
 preme Court, the glittering uniforms of the foreign ambassadors 
 and their suites, the appearance of the President-elect, and our 
 withdrawal to the porch of the Capitol, from which he was to 
 make his inaugural address — all of this remains indelibly im- 
 pressed upon my mind. His solemn, ardent words as he dedi- 
 cated himself afresh to the service of the country, the great 
 crowd straining to hear each sentence, the eager attitude of the 
 guard of honor (his beloved Rough Riders) — all made a vivid 
 picture never to be forgotten. An eye-witness wrote as follows: 
 "Old Chief Justice Fuller with his beautiful white hair and his 
 long, judicial gown administered the oath, and Roosevelt re- 
 peated it so loudly that he could be heard in spite of the wind. 
 In fact the wind rather added to the impressiveness than other- 
 wise, as it gave the President a chance to throw back his shoul- 
 ders to resist it, and that gave you a wonderful feeling of strength 
 that went splendidly with the speech itself. The speech was 
 short, and was mainly a plea for the 'Peace of Justice' as com- 
 pared with the 'Peace of the Coward.' It was very stirring. 
 The applause was tremendous." 
 
 I would have my readers remember that when Theodore 
 Roosevelt pleaded for such a peace it was in 1905, nine years be- 
 fore peace was broken by the armies of the Huns, and during 
 those long years he never once failed to preach that doctrine, 
 and to the last moment of his life abhorred and denounced the 
 peace of the coward. 
 
 Following quickly on his inaugural speech came the limcheon 
 at the White House, at which friends from New York were as 
 cordially welcomed as were Bill Sewall's large family from the 
 Maine woods and Will Merrifield, who, now a marshal, brought 
 the greetings of the State of Montana. After luncheon we all 
 
Home Life in the White House 225 
 
 went out on the reviewing-stand. The President stood at the 
 front of the box, his hat always off in response to the salutes. 
 The great procession lasted for hours — West Pointers and naval 
 cadets followed by endless state organizations, governors on 
 horseback, cowboys waving their lassos and shouting favorite 
 slogans (they even lassoed a couple of men, en passant), Chief 
 Joseph, the grand old man of the Nez PercS tribe, gorgeously 
 caparisoned, his brilliant head-dress waving in the wind, fol- 
 lowed by a body of Indians only a shade less superb in costimie, 
 and then a hundred and fifty Harvard fellows in black gowns 
 and caps — and how they cheered for the President as they passed 
 the stand! Surely there was never before such an inaugu- 
 ration of any President in Washington. Never was there such 
 a feeling of personal devotion in so many hearts. Other Presi- 
 dents have had equal admiration, equal loyalty perhaps, but 
 none has had that loyalty and admiration given by so liberal 
 and varied a niunber of his fellow countrymen. 
 
 It was dark before we left the stand, and soon inside of the 
 White House there followed a reception to the Rough Riders. 
 What a happy time the President had with them recalling by- 
 gone adventures, while the Roosevelt and Robinson children ran 
 merrily about listening to the wonderful stories and feeding 
 the voracious Rough Riders. Later the President went bare- 
 headed to the steps xmder the porte-cochere and received the 
 cowboys, who rode past one after another, joyfully shaking 
 hands with their old chief, ready with some joke for his special 
 benefit, to which there was always a repartee. It was a unique 
 scene as they cheered the incoming magnate under the old porte- 
 cochere, and one never to be repeated. And then the Harvard 
 men filed past to shake hands. Needless to say, diimer was 
 rather late, though very merry, and we were all soon off to the 
 inaugural ball. It was a beautiful sight, the hall enormous, 
 with two rows of arches and pillars, one above the other, along 
 each side. The floor was absolutely crowded with moving people, 
 all with their faces straining up at our box. Ten thousand people 
 
226 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 bought tickets. Mr. Matthew Hale, then tutor to my nephew 
 Theodore Roosevelt, Jr., has described the scene as follows: 
 "The whole room was beautifully decorated with lights and 
 wreaths and flowers. As I stood looking down on the great 
 pageant I felt as though I were in some other world, — as though 
 these people below there and moving in and out were not real 
 people, but were all part of some great mechanism built for our 
 special benefit. And then my feeling would change to the other 
 extreme when I thought of each one of those men and women 
 as individuals, each one thinking, and feeling and acting accord- 
 ing to his own will, — and that all, just for that one night, came 
 together for a cormnon purpose, to see the President. Soon 
 an open place appeared in the throng before us, and the Presi- 
 dent and Mrs. Roosevelt, and behind them Vice-President and 
 Mrs. Fairbanks, walked to the other end of the hall and back, 
 while the people cheered and cheered." And soon it was time 
 to go back to the White House, and then, best of all, cjime what 
 we used to call a "back-hair" talk in Theodore and Edith's room. 
 What fun we had as we talked the great day over in comfortable 
 deshabille. A small roimd bottle of old wine was foimd some- 
 where by Mrs. Roosevelt, and the family drank the President's 
 health, and we talked of old times and childhood da}^, and of 
 the dear ones whose hearts would have glowed so warmly had 
 they lived to see that day. We laughed immoderately over all 
 kinds of humorous happenings, and we could hardly bear to say 
 "good night," we still felt so gay, so full of life and fim, so 
 invigorated and stimulated by the excitement and by the 
 deeper thoughts and desires, which, however, only took the form 
 that night of increasing hilarity ! 
 
 Shortly after that March inauguration my daughter Corinne, 
 just eighteen, was asked by her kind aunt to pay a visit at the 
 White House, and I impressed upon her the wonderful oppor- 
 tunity she would have of listening to the great men of the world 
 at the informal luncheon gatherings which were a feature of 
 my brother's incumbency. "Do not miss a word," I said to 
 
Home Life in the White House 227 
 
 my daughter. " Uncle Ted brings to luncheon all the great men 
 in Washington — ahnost always several members of the cabinet, 
 and any one of interest who is visiting there. Be sure and listen 
 to ever3rthing. You will never hear such talk again." When 
 she returned home from that visit I eagerly asked her about 
 the wonderful luncheons at the White House, where I had so 
 frequently sat spellbound. My somewhat irreverent young 
 daughter said: "Mother, I laughed internally all through the 
 first luncheon at the White House during my visit. Uncle Ted 
 was perfectly lovely to me, and took me by the hand and 
 said: 'Corinny, dear, you are to sit at my right hand to-day, and 
 you must have the most delightful person in the room on your 
 other side.' With that he glanced at the distinguished crowd of 
 gentlemen who were surrounding him waiting to be assigned to 
 their places, and picking out a very elderly gentleman with a 
 long white beard, he said with glowing enthusiasm: 'You shall 
 have John Burroughs, the great naturalist.' I confess I had 
 hoped for some secretary in the cabinet, but, no. Uncle Ted 
 did not think there was any one in the world that compared in 
 thrilling excitement to his wonderful old friend and lover of 
 birds. Even so, I thought, 'Mother would wish me to learn 
 all about natural history, and I shall hear marvellous ornitho- 
 logical tales, even if politics must be put aside.' But even in 
 that I was somewhat disappointed, for at the very beginning 
 of luncheon Uncle Ted leaned across me to Mr. Burroughs and 
 said: 'John, this morning I heard a chippy sparrow, and he sang 
 twee, twee, right in my ear.' Mr. Burroughs, with a shade of 
 disapproval on his face, said: 'Mr. President, you must be mis- 
 taken. It was not a chippy sparrow if it sang twee, twee. The 
 note of the chippy sparrow is twee, twee, twee.' From that mo- 
 ment the great affairs of our continent, the international crises 
 of all kinds were utterly forgotten, while the President of the 
 United States and his esteemed guest, the great naturalist, dis- 
 cussed with a good deal of asperity whether that chippy sparrow 
 had said 'twee, twee,' or 'twee, twee, twee.' We rose from the 
 
228 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 table with the question still unsettled." My brother always 
 loved to hear my daughter tell this story, although his face would 
 assume a somewhat sheepish expression as she dilated on the 
 difference between her mother's prognostications of what a 
 luncheon at the White House would mean from an intellectual 
 standpoint, and what the realization actually became ! 
 
 In spite of my daughter's experience, however, I can say 
 with truth that there never were such luncheons as those 
 Ixmcheons at the White House during my brother's life there. 
 The secretary of state, Mr, Elihu Root, with his unusual knowl- 
 edge, his pregnant wit, and quiet, brilliant sarcasm; the secretary 
 of war, Mr. Taft, with his gay smile and ready response; Mr. 
 Moody, the attorney-general with his charming culture and uni- 
 versal kindliness, and Senator Henry Cabot Lodge, the brilliant 
 scholar and statesman, my brother's most intimate friend and 
 constant companion, were frequent members of the luncheon- 
 parties, and always, the most distinguished visitor to Washing- 
 ton, from whatever coxmtry or from whatever State of our own 
 country, would be brought in with the same informal hos- 
 pitality and received for the time being by President and Mrs. 
 Roosevelt into the intimacy of family life. The whole cabinet 
 would occasionally adjourn from one of their most important 
 meetings to the limch-table, and then the President and Mr. 
 Root would cap each other's stories of the way in which this or 
 that question had been discussed during the cabinet meeting. 
 I doubt also if ever there were quite such cabinet meetings as 
 were held during those same years ! 
 
 That spring Mr. Robinson and I took my daughter to Porto 
 Rico to visit Governor and Mrs. Beekman Winthrop. My 
 brother believed strongly in yoimg men, and having admired 
 the intelligence of yoimg Beekman Winthrop (he came of a fine 
 old New York family) as circuit judge in the Philippines, he 
 decided to make him governor of Porto Rico. He was only 
 twenty-nine, and his charming wife still yoimger, but they made 
 a most ideal couple as administrators of the beautiful island. 
 
Home Life in the White House 229 
 
 After having been with them in the old palace for about a week, 
 and having enjoyed beyond measure all that was so graciously 
 arranged for us, I was approached one day by Governor Win- 
 throp, who told me that he was much distressed at the behavior 
 of a certain official and that he felt sure that the President would 
 not wish the man to remain in office, for he was actually a dis- 
 grace to the United States. "Mrs. Robinson," he said, "will 
 you not go to the President on your return, and tell hirn that I 
 am quite sure he would not wish to retain this man in office? 
 I know the President likes us to work with the tools which have 
 been given us, and I dislike beyond measure to seem not to be 
 able to do so, but I am convinced that this man should not rep- 
 resent the United States in this island." " Have you your proofs, 
 Beekman?" I asked. "I should not be willing to approach my 
 brother with any such criticism without accurate proofs." "I 
 most assuredly have them," he answered, and sure enough he 
 did have them, and I shortly afterward sailed with them back 
 to New York. Immediately upon my arrival I telegraphed my 
 brother as follows: "Would like to see you on Porto Rican busi- 
 ness. When shall I come?" One of Theodore Roosevelt's most 
 striking characteristics was the rapidity with which he answered 
 letters or telegrams. One literally felt that one had not posted 
 a letter or sent the telegram rushing along the wire before the 
 rapid answer came winging back again, and that particular tele- 
 gram was no exception to the rule. I had rather hoped for a 
 week's quiet in which to get settled after my trip to Porto Rico, 
 but that was not to be. The rapid-fire answer read as follows: 
 "Come tomorrow." Of course there was nothing for me to do 
 but go "tomorrow." It was late in April, and as I drove up to 
 the White House from the station, I thought how lovely a city 
 was Washington in the springtime. The yellow forsythias gave 
 a golden glow to the squares, and the soft hanging petals of the 
 fringe-trees waved in the scented air. I never drove imder the 
 White House porte-cochere without a romantic feeling of ex- 
 citement at the realization that it was my brother, lover of 
 
230 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 Lincoln, lover of America, who lived under the roof which sym- 
 bolized all that America means to her children. As I went up 
 the White House steps, he blew out of the door, dressed for his 
 ride on horseback. His horse and that of a companion were 
 waiting for him. He came smilingly toward me, welcomed me, 
 and said: "Edie has had to go to Philadelphia for the night to 
 visit Nellie Tyler, so we are all alone, and I have ordered dinner 
 out on the back porch, for it is so warm £tnd lovely, and there is 
 a full moon, and I thought we could be so quiet there. I have 
 so much to teU you. All sorts of political things have happened 
 during your absence, and besides that I have learned several 
 new poems of Kipling and Swinburne, and I feel like reciting 
 them to you in the moonlight!" "How perfectly lovely," I 
 replied, " and when shall I see you about Porto Rico ? " A slight 
 frown came on his brow, and he said, "Certainly not to-night," 
 and then rather sternly: "You have your appointment at nine 
 o'clock to-morrow morning in the office to discuss business 
 matters." Then with a returning smile: "I will be back pretty 
 soon. Good-by." And he jumped on his horse and clattered 
 away toward Rock Creek. 
 
 It all came true, although it almost seemed like a fairy-tale. 
 We had that dinner d, deux on the lovely portico at the rear of 
 the White House looking toward the Washington Monument-^ 
 that [>ortico was beautifully reproduced by Sargent's able brush 
 for Mrs. Roosevelt later — and imder the great, soft moon, with 
 the scent of shrub and flower in the air, he recited Kipling and 
 Swinburne, and then falling into more serious vein, gave me 
 a vivid description of some difficulty he had had with Con- 
 gress, which had refused to receive a certain message which he 
 had written and during the interval between the sending of 
 it and their final decision to receive it, he had shut him- 
 self up in his library, glad to have a moment of unexpected 
 leisure, and had written an essay, which he had long desired 
 to write, on the Irish sagas. The moon had waned and the 
 stars were brighter and deeper before we left the portico. We 
 
From the drawing by Jules Gu&rin. 
 
 We had that lovely dinner on the portico at the back of the White House looking 
 toward the Washington Monument. 
 
Home Life in the White House 231 
 
 never could go to bed when we were together, and I am so 
 glad that we never did! 
 
 The next morning I knocked at his door at eight o'clock, to go 
 down to the early breakfast with the children, which was one of 
 the features also, quite as much as were the brilliant lunches, of 
 home life in the White House. He came out of his dressing- 
 room radiant and smiling, ready for the day's work, looking as 
 if he had had eight hours of sleep instead of five, and rippling 
 all over with the laughter which he alwa)^ infused into those 
 family breakfasts. As we passed the table at the head of the 
 staircase, at which later in the day my sister's secretary wrote 
 her letters, the telephone-beU on the table rang, and with spon- 
 taneous simplicity — ^not even thinking of ringing a bell for a 
 "menial" to answer the telephone-call — he picked up the re- 
 ceiver himself as he passed by. His face assumed a listening 
 look, and then a broad smile broke over his features. "No," 
 he said. "No, I am not Archie, I am Archie's father." A second 
 passed and he laughed aloud, and then said: "All right, I will 
 tell him; I won't forget." Hanging up the receiver, he turned 
 to me half-sheepishly but very much amused. "That's a good 
 joke on any President," he said. "You may have realized that 
 there was a little boy on the other end of that wire, and he started 
 the conversation by saying, 'Is that you, Archie?' and I re- 
 plied, 'No, it is Ardiie's father.' Whereupon he answered, with 
 evident disgust: 'Well, you'll do. Be sure and tell Archie to 
 come to supper. Now, don't forget.' 'How the creatures order 
 you about ! ' " he gaily quoted from our favorite book, "Alice in 
 Wonderland," and proceeded to run at full speed down to the 
 breakfast-room. There the children greeted us vociferously, 
 and the usual merry breakfast ensued. For that half-hour he 
 always belonged to the children. Questions and answers about 
 their school life, their recreation when out of school, etc., etc., 
 followed in rapid succession, interspersed with various fascinat- 
 ing tales told by him for their spedal edification. 
 
 After they had dispersed there was still a half-hour left be- 
 
232 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 fore he went to the office at 9 o'clock, and whenever I visited 
 the White House (my visits were rather rare, as my husband, 
 being a busy real-estate broker in New York, could not often 
 break away) that half-hour was always given to me, and we in- 
 variably walked aroimd the great circle at the back of the White 
 House, It was his most vigorous moment of the day, that hour 
 from 8.30 to 9. He had not yet met the puzzling defeats and 
 compromises necessitated by the conflicting interests of the 
 many appointments in the office, and he was fresh and vivid, 
 interested in the problems that were to be brought to him for 
 solution that day, and observant of everything around him. I 
 remember that morning as we walked around the circle he was 
 discussing a very serious problem that had to be decided im- 
 mediately, and he held his forefinger straight up, and said: 
 "You know my temperament always wants to get there" — 
 putting his other forefinger on the apex of the first. "I naturally 
 wish to reach the goal of my desire, but would I not be very 
 blind and stupid if, because I couldn't get there, I decided to 
 stay here [changing his right forefinger to the base of the left] 
 "rather than get here" — ^finishing his simile by placing the right 
 finger to the third notch of the finger on his other hand. 
 
 Just as he was finishing this simile his eye caught sight of ^ 
 tiny object on the pathway, so minute a little brown spot that 
 I should never have noticed it; but he stooped, picked it up, 
 and held it between his forefinger and thumb, looking at it 
 eagerly, and then muttering somewhat below his breath: "Very 
 early for a fox-sparrow." He threw the tiny piece of fluff again 
 upon the path. "How do you know that that was a feather 
 from a fox-sparrow, Theodore?" I said, in my usual astonish- 
 ment at his observation and information. "I can understand 
 how you might know it was a sparrow, but how know it belonged 
 to the fox-sparrow rather than to any of the other innumerable 
 little creatures of that species?" He was almost deprecatory in 
 his manner as he said in reply: "Well, you see I have really 
 made a great study of sparrows." And then we were back at the 
 
Home Life in the White House 233 
 
 entrance to the White House, and in a moment I leaned out of 
 the dining-room window and watched him walk across the short 
 space between that window and the office, his head thrown back, 
 his shoulders squared to meet the difficulties of the day, and 
 every bit of him alert, alive, and glowing with health and strength 
 and power and mentality. 
 
 I went up-stairs, put on my "best bib and tucker," and pro- 
 ceeded to go aroimd the other way to the front door of the offices. 
 As I rang the bell the dear old man who always opened the door 
 greeted me warmly, and said: "Yes, Mrs. Douglas Robinson, 
 your appointment is at 9. It is just time." I went into the 
 outer hall, where a niunber of the appointees of 9.15, 9.30, etc., 
 were already waiting, to be surely on hand for their appoint- 
 ments, and in a moment or two Mr. Loeb opened the door of 
 the private office of the President, and came out into the hall 
 and said in a rather impersonal way, "Mrs. Douglas Robinson's 
 appointment," and I was shown into the room. My brother 
 was seated at a large table, and on it was every imaginable paper 
 marked "Porto Rico." As I entered he was still reading one of 
 these papers. He looked up, and I almost felt a shock as I met 
 what seemed to be a pair of perfectly opaque blue eyes. I could 
 hardly believe they were the eyes of the brother with whom 
 I had so lately parted, the eyes that had glistened as he re- 
 cited the poems of Eipling and Swinburne, the eyes that had 
 almost closed to see better the tiny breast-fluff of the fox-spar- 
 row. These were rather cold eyes, the eyes of a just judge, eyes 
 that were turned upon his sister as they would have been turned 
 upon any other individual who came to him in connection with 
 a question about which he must give his most careful and de- 
 liberate decision. He waved me to a chair, finished the paper 
 he was reading, and then turning to me, his eyes still stem and 
 opaque, he said: "I believe you have come to see me on busi- 
 ness connected with Porto Rico. Kindly be as condensed as 
 possible." I decided to meet him on his own ground, and made 
 my eyes as much like his as possible, and was as condensed as 
 
234 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 possible. Having listened carefully to my short story, he said: 
 " Have you proof of this ? " still rather sternly. Again I decided 
 to answer as he asked, and I replied: "I should not be here, 
 wasting your time and mine, did I not have adequate proof." 
 With that I handed him the notes made by the governor of Porto 
 Rico, and proceeded to explain them. He became a little less 
 severe after reading them, but no less serious, and turning 
 to me more gently, said: "This is a very serious matter. I 
 have got to be sure of the correctness of these statements, A 
 man's whole future hangs upon my decision." For a moment 
 I felt like an executioner, but realizing as I did the shocking 
 and disgraceful behavior of the official in question, I knew that 
 no sentimentality on my part should interfere with the impor- 
 tant decision to be made, and I briefly backed up all that the 
 governor had written. I can still hear the soimd of the Presi- 
 dent's pen as he took out the paper on which the man's name 
 was inscribed, and with one strong stroke effaced that name 
 from official connection with Porto Rico forever. That, was 
 the way that Theodore Roosevelt did business with his sister. 
 During that same year, 1905, the old Provencal poet Frddlric 
 Mistral sent him his volume called "Mireille," and the acknowl- 
 edgment of the book seems to me to express more than almost 
 any other letter ever written by my brother the spirit which 
 permeated his whole life. It shows indisputably that though 
 he had reached the apex of his desires, that though he was a 
 great President of a great country, perhaps the most powerful 
 ruler at the moment of any country, that his ideals for that coun- 
 try, just as his ideals for himself and for his own beloved home 
 life, were what they had always been before the sceptre of power 
 had been clasped by his outstretched hand. 
 
 White House, Washington, 
 My dear M. Mistral: December 15, 1905. 
 
 Mrs. Roosevelt and I were equally pleased with the book 
 and the medal, and none the less because for nearly twenty years 
 
Home Life in the White House 235 
 
 we have possessed a copy of Mireille. That copy we shall keep 
 for old association's sake, though this new copy with the per- 
 sonal inscription by you must hereafter occupy the place of 
 honor. 
 
 All success to you and your associates! You are teaching 
 the lesson that none need more to learn than we of the West, 
 we of the eager, restless, wealth-seeking nation; the lesson that 
 after a certain not very high level of material well-being has 
 been reached, then the things that really count in life are the 
 things of the spirit. Factories and railwajrs are good up to a 
 certain point, but courage and endurance, love of wife and child, 
 love of home and country, love of lover for sweetheart, love of 
 beauty in man's work and in nature, love and emulation of dar- 
 ing and of lofty endeavour, the homely work-a-day virtues and 
 the heroic virtues — these are better still, and if they are lacking, 
 no piled-up riches, no roaring, clanging industrialism, no fever- 
 ish and many-sided activity shall avail either the individual or 
 the nation. I do not undervalue these things of a nation's body; 
 I only desire that they shall not make us forget that beside the 
 nation's body there is also the nation's soul. 
 
 Again thanking you on behalf of both of us, believe me, 
 
 Faithfully yours, 
 (Signed) Theodore Roosevelt. 
 To M. FrMeric Mistral. 
 
 No wonder that Mistral turned to a friend after reading 
 that letter and said with emotion: "It is he who is the new hope 
 of humanity." 
 
XII 
 
 HOME LIFE IN THE WHITE HOUSE 
 
 (continued) 
 
 Men smile through falling tears, 
 Remembering the courage of his years 
 That stood each one for God, humanity. 
 And covenanted world-wide Liberty ! 
 
 —Edith Daley. 
 
 ONE of the most extraordinary things about my brother 
 was that in the midst of his full political life, a life 
 "pressed down and overflowing," he still had time for 
 the most loving interest in personal family matters. Just after 
 the great moment of his inauguration, he sent me a number of 
 photographs of my eldest son and his young wife, just married, 
 who had gone aroimd the world and were staying with General 
 Wood in the Philippines, and adds in the letter: "It was such 
 a pleasure to have Douglas and you down here for the inaugura- 
 tion, and to see the boys and Coriime." In June of that same 
 year, when my two yoimger boys had each won a boat-race at 
 St. Paul's School, he takes a moment from his pressing duties 
 to write another letter: "Darling Corinne: Good for Monroe 
 and Stewart! Give them my hearty congratulations; I have 
 only time for this line." Such imusual thoughtfulness could 
 not fail to keep burning perpetually the steady fire of my love 
 for him. 
 
 In July, 1905, he sent me one of the inauguration medals 
 signed by Saint-Gaudens. In looking at the head upon that 
 medal, one realized perfectly by the strong lines of temple and 
 
 236 
 
Home Life in the White House 237 
 
 forehead that Theodore Roosevelt had come to the fuhiess of 
 his intellectual powers. 
 
 About the same time there was a naval review at Oyster 
 Bay, and Mrs. Roosevelt writes: "The review was a wonderful 
 sight. I wish you could have been here. The morning was dark 
 and stormy, with showers of driving rain, until Theodore's flag 
 broke out from the Mayflower, when the clouds suddenly dis- 
 persed and the sim shone brightly." How often we used to feel 
 that the sun always broke out when Theodore's flag flew ! 
 
 One other little line from his pen, December 19, 1905, shows 
 the same constant thoughtfulness. He says: "WiU you send 
 the enclosed note to Dora? I am not sure of her address. I 
 hate to trouble you, but I want to have poor 'Dolly' get it by 
 Christmas Day." Dora was his old, childhood niu:se, one to 
 whom we were very much devoted, and whom he never 
 forgot. 
 
 At the beginning of the new year, 1906, he writes to my hus- 
 band: "Dear Douglas, — ^By George! Stewart is doing well. 
 [I tliinlf this referred to the fact that my youngest boy had been 
 chosen as goal-keeper of the St. Paul's School hockey team!] 
 That is awfully nice. I was mighty glad Wadsworth was elected. 
 I shall have diflSculties this year, and I cannot expect to get 
 along as well as I did last year, but I shall do the best I can." 
 Never blinded by past popularity, always ready for the difficul- 
 ties to come, and yet never dwelling so strongly on these difficul- 
 ties that by the very dwelling on them even greater difficulties 
 were brought to bear upon him. It was quite true that it proved 
 m many ways, a more difficult year than the one preceding, but 
 a happy year all the same, a happiness which culminated in his 
 satisfaction in the marriage of his daughter Alice to Nicholas 
 Longworth, of Cincinnati, Ohio, an able member of the House 
 of Representatives. His annoimcement to me of the engage- 
 ment was made at the dinner-table one evening before it was 
 known to the world, and not wishing to have it disclosed to the 
 world through the table-servants, he decided to give me the 
 
238 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 news in French. His French was always fluent, but more or 
 less of a literal translation from the English, which method he 
 exaggerated himiorously. " Je vais avoir im fils en loi," he said, 
 smiling gaily at me across the table, delighted at my puzzled 
 expression. With a little more explanation I realized what he 
 was suggesting to my befuddled brain, and he then proceeded 
 to describe a conversation he had had with the so-called "fils en 
 loi," and how he had talked to him like "un oncle Hollandais," 
 or "Dutch uncle"! 
 
 There was much excitement at the prospect of a wedding 
 in the White House, and, needless to say, so many were the re- 
 quests to be present that the line had to be drawn very care- 
 fully, and, in consequence, the whole affair assiuned an intimate 
 and personal aspect. Alice's Boston grandparents, Mr. and 
 Mrs. George C. Lee, were especially welcomed by Mrs. Hoose- 
 velt, and my memory of the great morning of the wedding has 
 a curiously "homey" quality. I much doubt if there was ever a 
 function — for a wedding in the White House could hardly be 
 anything but a fxmction — so simple, so charming, and so in- 
 formal as that marriage of the lovely daughter of the White 
 House. Almost all the morning Mrs. Roosevelt knitted peace- 
 fully at the sunny window up-stairs near her secretary's desk, 
 chatting quietly with Mrs. Lee. All preparations seemed to 
 have been made in the most quiet and efficient manner, for there 
 was no hurry, no excitement. My husband took Mr. Lee for 
 a walk, as the dear old gentleman was very much excited at the 
 prospect of his granddaughter's nuptials in the "East Room." 
 Everything seemed to go on quite as usual until the actual 
 moment came, and Alice Roosevelt, looking very beautiful in 
 her long court train and graceful veil, came through the group 
 of interested friends up to the white ribbon which formed, with 
 flowers, a chancel at the end of the "East Room." My brother 
 was at his best — ^gay, affectionate, fuU of life and fun, and 
 later took his son-in-law (no longer "to-be") and all the ushers, 
 members of Harvard's Porcellian Club like himself, into the state 
 
Home Life in the White House 239 
 
 lining-room to drink the health of the bride and groom, and re- 
 ;an various incidents of his and of their college days. 
 
 In March of that year I wrote him that my youngest boy 
 i?as to debate at St. Paul's School on the Santo Domingo ques- 
 tion, and he answered at once, with that marvellous punctual- 
 ;ty of his: "I wrote Stewart at once and sent him all the informa- 
 tion I could on the Santo Domingo business. I wish you were 
 iown here. In great haste. Ever yours, T. R." 
 
 In great haste, yes, but not too busy to write to a schoolboy- 
 lephew "at once," and give him the most accurate information 
 that could be given on the question upon which he was to take 
 part in school debate. 
 
 Again, when I suggested joining him in his car on his way 
 that fall to vote at Ojrster Bay, he writes: "Three cheers ! Now 
 j^ou can join me. We will have lunch immediately after leaving. 
 [ am so anxious to see you. I shall just love the Longfellow." 
 [Evidently some special edition that I am about to bring to 
 bim.] 
 
 On November 20, with his usual interest in my boys, he sends 
 me a delightful letter from his ex-cowboy superintendent. Will 
 Merrifidd, with whom they had been hunting in August and 
 September, 1906; and I am interested to see after reading his 
 apinion of my bo}^ how Mr. Merrifield, although many years 
 bad passed since the old days of the Elkhom Ranch, still turns 
 to him for advice, stUl, beyond all else, wishes to justify his vari- 
 ous ventures in the eyes of his old " boss." Merrifield writes : "I 
 bave sold my ranch, and will be able to make good all my finan- 
 cial obligations, which was my great ambition, besides having 
 something left, so that / wiU not take office for the purpose of mak- 
 ing money. [That was one of Theodore Roosevelt's perpetual 
 preachings, that no one should take office for the purpose of 
 making money.] I can be independent as far as money goes, 
 md above aU will be able to make good my word to you years 
 igo, as soon as my business is straightened out." He sends me 
 the letter not because of that sentence, but because, as he says, 
 
240 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 "This letter from Merrifield is so nice about Monroe and Stewart 
 that I thought I would send it to you. How well they did." 
 Always the same generous joy in the achievements of any of 
 the younger generation. 
 
 Again, on December 26, comes a long letter describing an- 
 other "White House Christmas." He deplores the fact that 
 the children are growing a little older, and that "Ted" says in 
 a melancholy way that he no longer feels the wild excitement 
 of former years and the utter inability to sleep soundly during 
 the night before Christmas. He adds, however: "Personally 
 I think that 'Ted' also was thoroughly in the spirit of the thing 
 when Christmas actually arrived, because by six o'clock every 
 child of every size was running violently to and fro along the 
 hall, in and out of all the other children's rooms, the theory being 
 that Edith and I were still steeped in dreamless and imdisturbed 
 slimiber!" 
 
 It is true that that winter was more difficult than the winter 
 before, but he met the imusual difficulties with unabated cour- 
 age, and writes in October, 1907, after giving me much family 
 news: "Indeed times have been bad in New York, and as is 
 always the case the atonement was largely vicarious, and inno- 
 cent people suffered. I hope it does not extend through the 
 rest of the coimtry. If we check it, I think it will mean ultimate 
 good, though it wiU also mean depression for a year at least." 
 
 In March, 1908, ra the midst of harassing controversies and 
 presidential difficulties of all kinds, he takes the time and in- 
 terest to write concerning a young friend of mine into whose 
 life had come an unfortunate trouble. The letter is so full of a 
 certain quality — ^what perhaps I might call a righteous ruth- 
 lessness specially characteristic of Theodore Roosevelt — ^that I 
 quote a few lines from it: 
 
 "I hate to think of her suffering; but the only thing for her 
 to do now is to treat the past as past, the event as finished and 
 out of her life; to dwell on it, and above aU to keep talking of 
 it with any one, would be both weak and morbid. She should 
 
Home Life in the White House 241 
 
 try not to think of it; this she cannot wholly avoid, but she can 
 avoid speaking of it. She should show a brave and cheerful 
 front to the world, whatever she feels; and henceforth she should 
 never speak one word of the matter to any one. In the long 
 future, when the memory is too dead to throb, she may, if she 
 wishes, speak of it once more, but if she is wise and brave, she 
 will not speak of it now." 
 
 This note referriug to a matter which did not come, except 
 through the interests of affection, close to his own life shows 
 with startling clearness the philosophy of his attitude toward 
 sorrows wherein an original mistake had perhaps been the cause 
 of sorrow. Of all the qualities in my brother, this one never 
 failed him. It was not harshness; it was, as I said, a righteous 
 ruthlessness. The thing that injured one's possibility for service 
 in any way must be cut out or burnt out. When that great sor- 
 row of his own life, the death of his splendid boy, came m July, 
 1918, although he never put aside the sympathy of others — 
 indeed, he gladly welcomed it, and gladly even would talk with 
 those in his innermost circle of the youngest he loved so well — 
 still, as a rule, his attitude was similar to that taken in the above 
 letter. Morbid craving could not bring ba£k his childf morbid 
 craviag could hurt his own potential power for good. The grief 
 must be met with high head and squared shoulders, and the 
 work still to do must be done. 
 
 All through the spring of 1908 the question as to his suc- 
 cessor iQ the White House was constantly in his mind. After 
 serious thought he had come to the conclusion that of the men 
 closest to him, William Howard Taft, who had done splendid 
 work as governor in the Philippines and had been an able lieu- 
 tenant in the work of the Roosevelt administration, would most 
 conscientiously carry out the policies he thought vital for the 
 country. This belief did not in any way mean that he wished 
 Mr. Taft to be an automaton or dummy, possible of manipula- 
 tion, but he felt that his then secretary of war was more thor- 
 oughly in sympathy with the policies which he believed to be 
 
242 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 the right policies for our country than any other man except 
 the secretary of state, Mr. Elihu Root, whose possible election 
 to the presidency he felt would be very doubtful. Many have 
 criticised in later years, especially after the trouble in 191 2, his 
 choice of Mr. Taft to succeed him. There came out at one time 
 an article in the periodical Life which, to my mind, explained 
 well the confidence which my brother placed in almost every 
 man who worked with him. The article said approximately: 
 "The reason that Theodore Roosevelt occasionally made mis- 
 takes in feeling that some of his associates m. the work of the 
 government would continue to be what he believed them to be, 
 is as follows: Whik any individual was working with Mr. Roose- 
 velt, in fact, under Mr. Roosevelt, the latter had the power of 
 inspiring the said individual with his own acuteness, his own 
 energy, his own ability. The person, therefore, frequently shone 
 with a reflex light, a light which seemed to Mr. Roosevelt to 
 originate in him, but in fact, came from his own unfailing 
 sources. The consequence is that when some official who had 
 seemed to Mr. Roosevelt to be almost a rara avis, was left to his 
 own devices, and without the magnetic personality of his chief to 
 inspire in him qualities not really indigenous in him, the change 
 in what that official could accomplish was very marked." Theo- 
 dore Roosevelt was convinced that Mr. Taft was entirely in 
 accord with the policies in which he so fully believed, and he 
 had absolute confidence that in leaving in his hands the work 
 which he had striven so hard to perfect, he was doing the best 
 thing possible for the United States. 
 
 At that time the people wanted to renominate my brother 
 as Preadent. He, however, was convinced that a renomination 
 would have defeated the spirit of the unwritten law that no man 
 should succeed himself a third time in succession. 
 
 I was present at the convention in Chicago in 1908, and have 
 fortunately retained a letter written to my children the very 
 morning of that convention, which runs as follows: 
 
 "Oh, how I wish you could have been here this mprning. 
 
Home Life in the White House 243 
 
 Such an ovation was never known as greeted Mr. Lodge's men- 
 tion of your Uncle Ted. Mr. Lodge's speech was most scholarly 
 and reserved, and in referring to the laws, he said, 'The Presi- 
 dent has invariably enforced the laws, and the President is the 
 most abused and the most popular man in the country.' Then 
 came a ripple and then a mighty shout of applause, growing 
 louder and louder, increasing and increasing more and more 
 every moment. They clapped, they shouted, they cheered. The 
 whole great Convention sang the Star Spangled Banner, and 
 then they clapped again, and carried 'Teddybears' around the 
 hall. They took off their coats ajid swung them aroimd their 
 heads. You have never even imagined anything like it. Sev- 
 eral times, Mr. Lodge raised his gavel, but with no result, and 
 finally he started his speech again, and persevered until the deaf- 
 ening noise began to subside fifty minutes after it began. It 
 really was a wonderful and thrilling scene. It was three o'clock 
 before we could keep our luncheon engagement at George Por- 
 ter's that first day." 
 
 The following day it required all Mr. Lodge's determination, 
 and a ringing message over the telephone from the White House 
 itself, to prevent the renomination of my brother. Not only 
 did the people want him, but, what has been so often not the 
 case, the delegates wanted him as well. It was one of those rare 
 moments at a great convention when the people and the dele- 
 gates were in accord, and yet, it was not to be. The will of Theo- 
 dore Roosevelt was carried out, and William Howard Taft was 
 chosen as the nominee of the Republican party for the next Presi- 
 dent of the United States. 
 
 On Jime 23, 1908, came a letter from the White House to 
 me: "Darling Corinne — ^It was very good of you and Douglas 
 to telegraph me. I am extremely pleased with the result of the 
 Convention. I think Cabot's handling of it was masterly." 
 And then, on Jime 26, an extremely interesting letter came, 
 one, I think, which, written as it was four years before the great 
 controversy of 1912, settles forever that question which was 
 
244 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 so much discussed as to what Theodore Roosevelt meant by 
 his statement that he would not run for the presidency again. 
 This letter, on White House paper, is dated Oyster Bay, June 
 26, 1908: 
 
 "Darling Coriime — ^My letter must have crossed yours. 
 It was just exactly as you and Alice said. Now there is nothing 
 to explain. I have been much amused at the fact that my Eng- 
 lish friends are wholly incapable of understanding my reasons 
 for the view I take, and think it due to weakness or some fantas- 
 tic scruple on my part. My theory has been that the presidency 
 should be a powerful office, and the President a powerful man, 
 who will take every advantage of it; but, as a corollary, a man 
 who can be held accoimtable to the people, after a term of four 
 years, and who wiQ not in any event occupy it for more than a 
 stretch of eight years. . . ." Nothing is more conclusive of my 
 brother's attitude than that sentence "who will not in any event 
 occupy it for more than a stretch of eight years." He did not 
 believe in a third term consecutively, but in no way did he pledge 
 himself at that time, or at any other time, not to consider again 
 the possible gift of the highest place in the nation, should an 
 interval come between his occupancy of the White House and 
 the renewed desire of the people that he should fill that place 
 in the nation once more. I have given some time to his atti- 
 tude on this question, as it has been much misunderstood. 
 
 In amusing contrast to the seriousness of his decision not to 
 accept a renomination comes a characteristic incident in the 
 President's career. The account of this I quote from a letter to 
 me of Mr. Gustavus Town Kirby, a participator himself in the 
 event. The letter runs as follows: 
 
 "In 1908 the Olympic Games had been held at London, 
 England, and when the athletes returned to this country, most 
 of them went, with some heads of the American Olympic Com- 
 mittee, including the late James E. Sullivan and myself, to visit 
 and receive the congratulations of the then President of the 
 United States at his summer home in Oyster Bay. [What com- 
 
Home Life in the White House 245 
 
 mittee, on no matter what important business, did not receive 
 the congratulations of that eclectic President at his summer 
 home at Oyster Bay!] I shall never forget the enthusiasm of 
 the gathering, nor how, no sooner had either Sullivan or I pre- 
 sented a member of the team to the President, than he would, 
 by use of his wonderful memory and in his most inspiring maimer, 
 tell the special athlete all about his own performance* — ^how far 
 he had put the shot to win his event, or how gamely he had run; 
 by how much he had beaten his competitor; his new world- 
 record time, and the like. At the time I marvelled, and I thought 
 even one as great as he must have 'brushed up' for the occasion, 
 but 'Billy' Loeb, his Secretary, told me afterwards that it was 
 not so, and that all during the Games he was kept constantly 
 informed of the result of the performances of our boys; and 
 while he actually knew none of these boys by sight, he not only 
 knew them by name, but their performances as well. Not only 
 to me, but to all gathered at this reception was this feat of mem- 
 ory most astoimding. Mr. Roosevelt's gracious cordiality, his 
 fine speech of congratulation, and his magnetic personality had 
 such an effect on all that it was with great difficulty that they 
 could be literally driven from the grounds and onto the Long 
 Island boat for their return to New York. 
 
 "Michael Murphy, the trainer, many years trainer at Yale, 
 and thereafter at 'Pennsylvania,' and also for the New York 
 Athletic Club, whose team in 1895 was triiunphant over the 
 great team of the London Athletic Club, was also a member of 
 the party. On the way back in the boat I happened to pass 
 through the cabin, which was entirely empty except for Michael 
 Miuphy, who, like the all but wizened-up old man he was, having 
 but about a quarter of a limg, and deaf except to those things 
 which he could not hear, sat huddled in a comer. I went up to 
 Mike and said, 'What are you doing?' He answered, 'I am 
 thinking!' I replied, 'Yes, that is evident; but what are you 
 thinking about?' He then said: 'Well, Mr. Kirby, I suppose 
 there is no doubt but that I am the greatest trainer of men in 
 
246 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 the world.' 'That certainly is true,' I said. He went on: 'Mr. 
 Kirby, you are aU wrong; until we went down to 03rster Ba;y 
 I thought I might be, but now I know I am not.' 'But,' I said, 
 'Mike, that is nonsense. What do you mean?' Then Mike an- 
 swered, ' Give me sixty men, every one of whom is a champion, 
 and let that man at Oyster Bay have sixty other men, every 
 one of whom is a dub, and his team would lick mine every time ! ' 
 I said, 'Mike, this is impossible; it could not be,' and then Mike 
 continued, — showing how that magnetic personality of Mr. 
 Roosevelt's had taken hold of him, and how truly he, Mike 
 Murphy, understood the psychology of inspiration, — 'Yes, Mr. 
 Kirby, you see it's this way; that man down there would tell 
 a miler that he could reel ofif a mile in four minutes, (as you 
 know, no one has run, or ever will run a mile in four minutes) 
 and not only would that man think he could run a mile in four 
 minutes, but, by Gad, he'd go out and do it.' " 
 
 Perhaps no one has ever more cleverly expressed the extraor- 
 dinary power of that personality than that wizened old trainer, 
 sunk into despondency because he realized that where men are 
 concerned skill and science are as nothing compared to the genius 
 of leadership. 
 
 That summer my brother showed to my husband and my- 
 self his never-failing love and consideration in a very special 
 manner. My husband's mother had died a couple of years be- 
 fore, and her son and daughter and myself had decided that the 
 most fitting memorial to one who was specially beloved and 
 missed in the immediate vicinity of her old home would be the 
 erection of a small free library to the memory of her and her 
 husband. The building was completed, and my husband wished 
 to have a dedication service, at which time he would hand over 
 the keys to the library trustees in our village of Jordanville. 
 My husband's old home, a grant in the time of Queen Aime to 
 his great-great-great-grandfather. Doctor James Henderson, of 
 Scotland, had always been a place for which my brother had a 
 deep affection. Situated as it was on the 14gh Mohawk hills 
 
Home Life in the White House 247 
 
 overlooking the great sweep of typical American farm-land, we 
 Kved a somewhat Scotch life in the old gray-stone mansion copied 
 from the manor-house of Mr. Robinson's Scotch ancestors. My 
 brother delighted in our relationship with the neighbors in our 
 environment, and accepted gladly my husband's earnest desire 
 that he should make the speech of dedication when the library 
 was given by us to the little village of Jordanville. 
 
 It was a great day for that tiny village when the President 
 of the United States, his secretary of state, Mr. Elihu Root, 
 and the Vice-President-elect, James S. Sherman, a native of 
 the next county, after being our guests at limcheon, proceeded 
 on my husband's four-in-hand brake to the steps of the little 
 colonial building three miles away, designed by our friend Mr, 
 S. Breck P. Trowbridge. 
 
 What a day it was and what fvm we had ! After the library 
 exercises we held a reception at our home, Henderson House, 
 and hundreds of every sort and kind of vehicle were left or teth- 
 ered along the high ridge near our house. My brother and I 
 stood at the end of the quaint old drawing-room, and an endless 
 file of country neighbors passed before him, and each and all 
 were greeted with his personal enthusiasm and the marvellous 
 knowledge of their interests with which the slightest word from 
 me seemed to make him cognizant. The sunset lights faded 
 over the Mohawk hills and lost their last gleam in the winding 
 river below before the last "dead-wood coach" or broken-down 
 buggy had disappeared from the grounds of Henderson House, 
 and then in the old hall my own family servants — many of them 
 had been twenty or thirty years upon the place — came in to greet 
 him after supper, and sang the hymn which they often sang 
 on Sunday evenings: "God be with you till we meet again." 
 The stories of that day will be told in time to come by the chil- 
 dren's children of my kind friends of Warren Township, Herkimer 
 County. Theodore himself writes of the experience as follows: 
 
 "Oyster Bay, August 27, 1908. Dearest Corinne and Doug- 
 las: There is not a thing I would have missed throughout the 
 
248 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 whole day. It was a very touching little ceremony, and most 
 of all it was delightful to see you two in your lovely home, liv- 
 ing just the kind of life that I feel is typical of what American 
 life should be at its best. I was so glad to see all your neighbors, 
 and to see the terms they were on with you. Moreover, the view, 
 the grounds, the house itself, and all there was therein, were 
 delightful beyond measure; and most delightful of all was it 
 to see the three generations ranging from you two to the babies 
 of dear Helen and Teddy. Ever yours, Theodore Roosevelt." 
 As usual, he never spared an effort to do the lovely thing, and 
 then say the satisfying thing to those for whom he had done 
 the service. 
 
 And now the time of Theodore Roosevelt's incumbency as 
 President was drawing to a close. There is always a glamour 
 as well as a shadow over "last times," and my last visit to the 
 White House, in February, 1909, stands out very clearly. My 
 brother, the year before, had sent the great American fleet around 
 the world, an expedition discoimtenanced by many, and yet 
 conceded later to have been one of his most brilliantly conceived 
 strategic inspirations. "In time of peace, prepare for war," 
 said Washington, and Theodore Roosevelt always followed that 
 maxim. That trip around the world of the American fleet was 
 more conducive to peace than any other action that could have 
 been taken. The purpose was "friendly," of course, but those 
 splendid battle-ships of ours, engineered by such able command- 
 ers, could not fail to be an object-lesson to any who felt that 
 the United States was too isolated to care for her own defense. 
 
 But even in such a demonstration as this, he managed to 
 include a touch of exquisite sentiment. When the great vessels 
 neared the Hawaiian Islands, he ordered them to deflect their 
 course to pass by and salute the tragic island of Molokai, home 
 of the afflicted lepers, so that they too should know of the pro- 
 tection which America affords to its most imfortunate children. 
 
 During those days in February, 1909, he seemed as gay as 
 a boy let out of school. He was making all the arrangements 
 
Home Life in the White House 249 
 
 for his great African adventure. In fact, with his usual "pre- 
 paredness," he had been preparing for that event for a whole 
 year. Everj^thiog was accurately arranged, and he and his son 
 Kermit were to start immediately after he was to leave the White 
 House in March. The lectures which he was to deliver a year 
 from the following spring were all written and corrected. One 
 afternoon in the "Blue Bedroom," which I generally occupied 
 on my visits, I heard a knock at my door, and he came in with 
 several rolls of paper under his arm. "It is raining," he said, 
 "and I think I won't take my ride. I want your opinion on the 
 lectures I am to deliver at Oxford, in Berlin, and at the Sor- 
 bonne. I should like to read them to you," and we settled down 
 for a long delightful, quiet time "k deux." As usual, he was 
 more than willing to listen to any remark or criticism, and once 
 or twice accepted my slight suggestions of what I thought could 
 improve his articles. 
 
 Some people felt that my brother was often egotistical, and 
 mistook his conviction that this or that thing was right for an 
 egotistical inability to look at it any other way. When he was 
 convinced that his own attitude was correct, and that for the 
 good of this or that scheme no other attitude should be taken, 
 then nothing could swerve him; but when, as was often the 
 ease, it was not a question of conviction, but of advisability, 
 he was the most open-minded of men, and gladly accepted and 
 pondered the point of view of any one in whom he had confi- 
 dence. I was always touched and gratified beyond measure at 
 the simple and sometimes almost humble way in which he would 
 listen to a difference of opioion upon my part. Occasionally, 
 ^ter thinking it seriously over, he would concede that my point 
 of view was right. In this particular case, however, they were 
 the slightest of slight suggestions which I made, for each of 
 tiiose articles seemed to me in its own way a masterpiece. 
 
 During that visit also occurred the last diplomatic dinner, 
 always followed when he was President by the delightful, in- 
 formal supper at tables set in the upper hall of the White House. 
 
250 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 That night he was particularly gay, and many witty repartees 
 passed between him and our beautiful and gifted friend, Mrs. 
 Cabot Lodge, the friend who had for us all, through her in- 
 finite charm and brilliant intellectuality, a fascination pos- 
 sessed by no other. She almost always sat at his table at the 
 informal suppers, and, needless to say, those two were the cen- 
 tre of attraction. The table at which I myself sat that night 
 had the distinguished presence of General Leonard Wood,. Gen- 
 eral Young, and the French ambassador. Monsieur Jusserand, 
 one of my brother's favorite companions on the famous White 
 House walks, hero of the true story of the time when on one 
 of those same famous walks they inadvertently came to the river, 
 into which my brother plunged, followed immediately by the 
 dauntless French ambassador, who refused to "take off his gloves 
 for fear of meeting the ladies" ! 
 
 I spent one whole morning in the office during that visit, 
 having asked my brother if I might sit qmetly in a comer and 
 listen to his interviews, to which request he gladly acceded. One 
 
 r after another, people filed in to see him. I made a few notes 
 of the conversations. One of his first answers to some impor- 
 
 I tunate person who wished him to take a stand on some special 
 subject (at that time he was anxious not to embarrass his suc- 
 cessor, Mr. Taft, by taking any special stands) was: "As Napo- 
 leon said to his marshals, 'I don't want to make pictures of my- 
 self.' " 
 
 In receiving Mr. Hall, the president of the Gridiron Club, 
 he remarked that he (Theodore Roosevelt) had been one of the 
 few people who used these dinners as "a field of missionary en- 
 deavor." Doctor Schick, of the Dutch Reformed Church, in 
 which he had been a regular attendant, came to arrange for a 
 good-by meetiag at the church. To a man who came in to see 
 him on the subject of industrial peace, he replied: "The President 
 believes in conciliation in industrial problems." Endless subjects 
 were brought up for his consideration, and many times I heard 
 him say: "Remember, a new man is in the saddle, and there 
 
Home Life in the White House 251 
 
 can't be two Presidents after March 4th." These notes were 
 taken at the time, February, 1909, and are not the result of 
 memory conveniently adjusted toward later happenings. 
 
 Every time I talked with my brother on, the subject of the 
 future, he repeated the fact that he was glad to plunge into the 
 wilderness, so that no one could possibly think that he wanted 
 a "finger in the pie" of the new administration. Over and over 
 again he would say: "If I am where they can't get at me, and 
 where I cannot hear what is going on, I cannot be supposed to 
 wish to interfere with the methods of my successor." 
 
 One quiet evening when we had had a specially lovely family 
 dinner, I turned to him and said: "Theodore, I want to give 
 you a real present before you go away. What do you think you 
 would like?" EHs eyes sparkled Uke a child who was about to 
 receive a specially nice toy, and he said: "Do you really want 
 to make me a real present, Fussie P I think I should like a pigskin 
 library." "A pigskin library," I said, in great astonishment. 
 " What is a pigskin library ? " He laughed, and said : " Of course, 
 I must take a good many books; I couldn't go anywhere, not 
 even into jungles in Africa without a good many books. But 
 also, of course, they are not very likely to last in ordinary bind- 
 ings, and so I want to have them all boimd in pigskin, and I 
 would rather have that present than any other." The next day 
 he dictated a Est of the books which he wished, and the following 
 evening added in his own handwriting a few more. The list is 
 as follows: 
 
 BOOKS IN THE PIGSKIN LIBRARY 
 Bible. 
 
 Apocrypha. 
 Borrow: Bible in Spain. 
 
 Zingali. 
 
 Lavengro. 
 
 Wfld Wales. 
 
 The Romany Rye. 
 Shakespeare. 
 Spenser: Faerie Queene. 
 
252 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 Marlowe. 
 
 Mahan: Sea Power. 
 Macaulay: History. 
 Essays. 
 Poems. 
 Homer: Diad. 
 
 Odyssey. 
 La Chanson de Roland. 
 Nibelungenlied. 
 Carlyle: Frederick the Great. 
 Shelley: Poems. 
 Bacon: Essays. 
 Lowell: Literary Essays. 
 
 Biglow Papers. 
 Emerson: Poems. 
 Longfellow. 
 Tennyson. 
 Poe: Tales. 
 Poems. 
 Keats. 
 
 Milton: Paradise Lost (Books I and H). 
 Dante: Inferno (Carlyle's translation). 
 Holmes: Autocrat. 
 
 Over the Teacups. 
 Bret Harte: Poems. 
 
 Tales of the Argonauts. 
 Luck of Roaring Camp. 
 Browning: Selections. 
 Crothers: Gentle Reader. 
 
 Pardoner's Wallet. 
 Mark Twain: Huckleberry Finn. 
 
 Tom Sawyer. 
 The Federalist. 
 Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. 
 Froissart. 
 
 Gregorovius: Rome. 
 Percy's Reliques. 
 
 Euripides (Murray's translation): 
 Bacchae. 
 Hippolytus. 
 Scott: Legend of Montrose. 
 Antiquary. 
 
Home Life in the White House 253 
 
 Guy Mannering. 
 Rob Roy. 
 Waverley. 
 Cooper: Two Admirals. 
 
 Pflot. 
 Dickens: Pickwick. 
 
 Mutual Friend. 
 Thackeray: Vanity Fair. 
 Pendennis. 
 
 The famous pigskin library, carried on the back of "burros," 
 followed him into the jungles of Africa, and was his constant 
 companion at the end of long days during which he had slain 
 the mighty beasts of the tangled forests. 
 
 Immediately after that happy week at the White House, I 
 was stricken by a great sorrow, the death of my youngest son 
 by an accident. My brother came to me at once, and sustained 
 me a? no one else could have done, and his one idea during those 
 next weeks was to make me realize his constant thought and 
 love, even in the midst of those thrilling last days at the White 
 House, when among other events he welcomed home the great 
 fleet which had completed its circle of the world. 
 
 A few days before the death of my boy, and immediately 
 after that enchanting last visit to the house we had learned to 
 regard as Theodore's natural home, he wrote me the last letter 
 I received from him dated from the White House. It was written 
 February 19, 1909: 
 
 "Darling Corinne: Just a line to tell you what I have already 
 told you, of how we shall always think of you and thank you 
 when we draw on the 'Pigskin Library' in Africa. It was too 
 dear of you to give it to me. That last night was the pleasantest 
 function we had ever held at the White House, and I am so glad 
 that you and Douglas were there. Tell Douglas he cannot imag- 
 ine how I have enjoyed the rides with him." The above was 
 typewritten, but inserted in his own handwriting at the end of 
 the note were the characteristic lines: "You blessM person. I 
 have revelled in having you down here. T. R." 
 
xni 
 
 WALL STREET HOPES EVERY LION WILL 
 DO ITS DUTY 
 
 THE LION THAT ROOSEVELT SHOT 
 
 Now in Elysian woods, at last foregathered, . 
 Comrades, we range together, sire and sire, 
 We who on earth were kings, and nobly fathered, 
 And, regally, wore each his earth attire. 
 How proudly at his heel in dawn or gloaming. 
 With him, tiie lion-hearted, I am roaming ! 
 
 — Isabel Fiske Conant. 
 
 A GREAT though quiet and personal demonstration came 
 to Theodore Roosevelt just before he sailed for Africa. 
 The heart of the people turned to him with overwhelm- 
 ing a£fection and he received, during the last week in his own 
 country, between fifteen and twenty thousand farewell letters. 
 Hundreds of mothers wrote him that they felt as if their own 
 son were leaving them, and that their prayers would follow him 
 in his wanderings; hundreds of others wrote that they would 
 not feel that the country would be safe until he should return — 
 but the "big business" men (not the "great" business men) 
 of Wall Street, according to the "bon mot" of some wag, "hoped 
 every lion would do its duty." 
 
 As my brother was leaving Oyster Bay to set sail on his great 
 adventure, he wrote me that he would spend one whole day with 
 me, except for necessary business engagements, to which engage- 
 ments I took him in my motor. And so my last memories of 
 the time before he sailed are, as usual, of his xmfailing devotion. 
 On March 26 he writes again from the steamer: "Your dear 
 little note was handed me as I sailed, and I loved it. It was so 
 
 2S4 
 
Wall Street Hopes 255 
 
 good to see you as I did the day before. Darling sister, I think 
 of you all the time. I suppose your children told you of the 
 wild whirl of confusion in which I said 'Goodbye.' I was very 
 much touched by the number of acquaintances who came down 
 to see me off. Indeed hundreds of them were not even acquaia- 
 tances. They came in the shape of clubs, societies, delegations, 
 and even more, by scores of what might be called real 
 friends." 
 
 All through his various sea trips — these sea trips rather bored 
 him — ^he writes as follows: "There are plenty of people with 
 whom it is really pleasant to talk in English or in those variants 
 of volapuk which with me pass for French and German." He 
 encloses me a photograph of Kermit and himself and Selous, 
 the naturalist, which shows a merry moment on one of those 
 same sea trips. In May of that year he writes from Juja Farm, 
 Nairobi: 
 
 "Really, I have been so busy that I have had no time to 
 myself, and even have not been regularly homesick; of course, 
 down at bottom I am homesick the whole time, but it isn't able 
 to come to the surface, so to speak, because when I am not ac- 
 tuaUy hunting, I am l3dng still because I am tired out. . . . 
 This house is as pretty and comfortable as possible, and my 
 host and hostess are the very kindest of the kind. I am sitting 
 on a cool verandah with vines growing over the trellises, having 
 just returned from a morning hunt in which I killed a python 
 and an impala antelope. Yesterday I killed two antelopes, and 
 the day before, a rhino and a hippo, and the day before that, 
 Kermit killed a leopard which charged him viciously after maul- 
 ing one of the beaters. I have also killed six lions, — four of them 
 big ones. I am sunburned and healthy, and look like a burly 
 and rather unkempt ruffian. 
 
 "Kermit has really done very well. He is very handy, both 
 cool and daring, in fact, rather too daring sometimes. 
 
 "Darling sister, I thmk of you continually, and would so 
 love to see you. ..." 
 
256 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 Later, on his return to the same farm after an extended hunt- 
 ing trip, he says: 
 
 "I have worked very hard writing the articles about this 
 trip, and have put my heart into them, for this trip has been to 
 me one of absorbing interest; but of course, I haven't any idea 
 whether I have written anything worth reading. 
 
 "I am happy to say that I know nothing whatever of politics 
 at home, and I hope to keep in the same blessed state of igno- 
 rance until I return next June. Then I shall take up political 
 work again, but probably not in any direct partisan sense, — 
 that is, I will go in with the Outlook people on such matters 
 as the conservation of natural resources, the control of big cor- 
 porations, and how to deal with socialism, and the like." 
 
 The above shows clearly how strong were his intentions not 
 to interfere in any way with the administration then in power. 
 
 On Jime 21, in a letter headed "On Safari," he writes: 
 
 "I am so busy writing my Scribner articles that I have but 
 little time to write family letters, except of course, the letters to 
 Edith. I have had plenty to write about for Scribner's, but it 
 is not alwa3rs easy to write in the field, and I do not reaUy know 
 how I have done it. Sometimes when I come in early from a 
 hunt, I just point blank refuse to write at all, and spend an hour 
 or two reading a book from the 'Pigskin Library,' which has 
 been the utmost possible comfort and pleasure. Fond though I 
 am of hunting and of wilderness life, I could not thoroughly 
 enjoy either if I were not able, from time to time, to turn to my 
 books. I am anxiously looking for news of your Helen and the 
 baby that is to be. 
 
 "Kermit is a great pleasure to me. My trouble with him is 
 that he is altogether too bold, — pushing, daring, almost to reck- 
 lessness." 
 
 Writing in October to my husband (there never was a more 
 devoted friendship than existed between him and my husband), 
 he says: 
 
 "You old trump, Douglas. I really do believe that you are 
 
Wall Street Hopes 257 
 
 ibout the best fellow and the staunchest friend alive. Your 
 letter was really delightful. I am so glad Bridges told you that 
 they liked the Scribner articles. I only hope they guess right 
 as far as the public is concerned. 
 
 " I hope the Robinson Minimus or Minima has arrived. [Re- 
 ferring to the expected baby in my eldest son's family.] Of course, 
 to go back to Henderson was terribly hard for you both at first, 
 but it wotild have been the worst possible mistake to have avoided 
 it or left it. The nettle had to be grasped." 
 
 What a characteristic sentence ! It had been very hard to 
 go back to our old home, but, as he said, "the nettle had to be 
 grasped." I don't think in his whole life he failed to grasp any 
 nettle that had to be grasped. In a letter of the same date to 
 me he says, referring again to our sorrow: "As our lives draw 
 toward the end, we are sure to meet bitter sorrow, and we must 
 meet it undauntedly. I have just been writing Cabot and 
 Nannie [they had lost their talented son, the young poet George 
 Cabot Lodge] and again, there was nothing for me to say. . . . 
 It has been a horrible wrench for me to leave Edith during this 
 trip, but I am sure I have done the wise thing from every stand- 
 point." 
 
 On January 21, 1910, as he is nearing civilization once more, 
 in a letter dated on the Upper Nile, he writes: "Certainly our 
 trip has been a complete success. If we did not shoot another 
 thing, it would stiU remain unique, for the great quantity of 
 skins and other scientific specimens collected for the museum; 
 and personally, I do not care if I do not fire off my rifle again. 
 I have enjoyed the trip to the full and feel that it was well 
 worth making. I am naturally overjoyed that I am to see Edith 
 m less than eight weeks, and I shall never go away from her 
 again if I can help it. The 'Pigskin Library' continues to be 
 a wellspring of comfort. Darling sister, I love you very much. 
 Your devoted brother." 
 
 On March 10, 1910, in another letter dated Upper White 
 Nile, he says: 
 
258 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 "Darling sister mine: At Gondokoro I found your welcome 
 letter; and on the steamer, descending the iioo miles to Khar- 
 toum, bumping into sand banks, and doing various odd things, 
 I send you this line of answer. 
 
 "Joe Alsop [my only daughter had just become engaged 
 to Joseph Wright Alsop, of Coimecticut] represents to me what 
 I like to think of as the ideal American citizen — pretty strong 
 praise, and I mean every word of it. I should be overjoyed if 
 Ethel married a man like him. He is the big, brave, strong, 
 good man of soimd common sense, who works hard in the coun- 
 try, who does his duty in politics, who would make a fine type 
 of soldier in civil war. I have always put him in the same class 
 with Bob Ferguson, and with Pinchot, Garfield, Cooley, and the 
 rest of the 'Tennis Cabinet.' " 
 
 His "Tennis Cabinet" shared the same warm comer of his 
 heart in which his "Rough Riders" were firmly ensconced! 
 
 His last letter from the White Nile, March 14, 1910, has m 
 it the foreboding of what was to come. "Ugh !" he writes, "tell 
 Douglas that I hate the prospect of being dragged into politics 
 at home. I don't like the political outlook." Even then, al- 
 though regretting the probability, he realized the imminence of 
 being "dragged into politics at home." 
 
 His wonderful reception in Egypt and the admiring recogni- 
 tion shown him by kings and potentates when he emerged from 
 his year of seclusion in the jungle are well known to the world. 
 Emperors and monarchs and presidents vied with each other 
 to do him honor, and never was there a more triumphant prog- 
 ress than that of Citizen Theodore Roosevelt through the great 
 countries that had known him as President of the United States. 
 His tales later of the various potentates were amusing to the 
 last degree; everything he recounted was told in the most good- 
 natured, although humorous, spirit, and in many cases he spoke 
 with warm regard and even affection for the rulers who welcomed 
 him so warmly to their homes and lives. He referred to the King 
 of Italy as "a very intelligent and really good man." He had 
 
Wall Street Hopes 259 
 
 lever felt that the Emperor of Germany was a great man, nor 
 lid he change his opinion, in spite of the many courtesies shown 
 lim by the Kaiser, although he enjoyed his experiences in Ger- 
 nany and was much interested when asked to review the great 
 German army by the Emperor. Of all the reigning monarchs, 
 le seemed to think with the most afifection of the King of Norway, 
 whom he paid the characteristic compliment of saying that 
 le "would enjoy having him settle down quietly near him at 
 )y5ter Bay," and he also spoke with regard of Alfonso of Spain, 
 le gave an especially interesting account of the funeral cere- 
 aonies of King Edward VII, to which ceremonies he was ap- 
 jointed special envoy; but most of all he wrote with keen de- 
 ight of his "bird walk" through the New Forest and over the 
 idjacent lowlands and uplands with that fellow bird-lover, the 
 ecretaiy for foreign affairs, then Sir Edward, now Earl, Grey. 
 'Nothing could have been more characteristic of Theodore Roose- 
 velt than the way in which that walk had been arranged. 
 
 Before he left America to plunge into the African jungle, 
 le wrote to Lord Bryce in England to the effect that on his re- 
 um, practically a year and a quarter from the date on which he 
 irrote, he would like some one versed in the bird-songs of England 
 walk with him for a day at least to acquaint him with the notes 
 i the British feathered singers. He knew, he said, the appear- 
 nce and habits of every English bird, but had never had the 
 hance to match the bird to the song, and he was very anxious 
 do so. Lord Bryce happened to meet Sir Edward Grey, the 
 ecretary for foreign affairs, and laughingly mentioned the de- 
 ire on the part of President Roosevelt to make this somewhat 
 remature engagement, and expressed uncertainty as to whom 
 e could choose for the President's companion. Sir Edward 
 nmediately offered himself, sa5Tng that the knowledge of bird 
 mg and lore happened to be one of his assets, but even Sir Ed- 
 ward felt that the experiences with the mighty creatures of the 
 Jngle, the excitement of the political furor aroused by a cer- 
 lin speech of Theodore Roosevelt's in Cairo, and the triumphal 
 
26o My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 procession through other parts of Europe might, perhaps, have 
 effaced from his memory his desire for a walk in English wood- 
 lands. But not at all. Sir Edward Grey himself told me, not 
 long ago, that on the ist of May, 1910, several weeks before he 
 was expected in England, there came a note reminding the British 
 secretary for foreign affairs that the ex-President of the United 
 States wished to be his companion for twenty-four hours at least 
 of remote enchantment "far from the madding crowd," and so 
 when the time came they started together and tramped through 
 the New Forest, and later over lush meadows inundated by 
 spring rains. Earl Grey told me that although he had often 
 taken this particular walk, he had never encountered the slight- 
 est dfflculty during the transit, but to be with Theodore Roose- 
 velt was synonymous with adventure of some kind. While 
 traversing a usually innocuous meadow, they suddenly came 
 upon a piece of flooded lowland, in this particular case so flooded 
 that unless they deflected or retraced their steps, it would mean 
 walking breast-high in water for some distance. The secretary 
 for foreign affairs referred the decision about the situation to the 
 ex-President of the United States, and, needless to say, the man 
 who was accustomed to swim the Potomac River in his stride, did 
 not deflect his course because of the flooded English meadow. 
 Later, as they stood imder a tree drying themselves in the after- 
 noon simshine, a very sweet, delicate song was heard. My 
 brother's keen ears caught the trickling notes, and turning with 
 vivid interest to his companion, he said: "Of all the songs we 
 have heard to-day, that is the only one which resembles in any de- 
 gree an American-bird song," and he listened eagerly as the oblig- 
 ing bird repeated its dainty music. "That," said Earl Grey, 
 "is the crested wren." "It is a wren also that sings like that 
 in America," said my brother. Earl Grey was very much in- 
 terested in this, and a few days afterward, meeting a great bird 
 expert in the British Museum, he repeated the remark of my 
 brother in connection with the fact that the crested wren's song 
 was the only one of any English bird resembling the song of an 
 
Wall Street Hopes 261 
 
 American bird, and the expert confirmed what my brother had 
 said. 
 
 Mr. John Burroughs used to say, although he had given his 
 whole life to ornithology, that Theodore Roosevelt, to whom 
 ia later years it became only a recreation, was almost as well 
 informed on the subject as he was. 
 
 In June, 1910, he returned from Europe, and never in the 
 annals of Americein history has such a reception been accorded 
 to a private citizen. Frankly, I do not think that Theodore 
 Roosevelt was ever regarded as a private citizen; he was always 
 a public possession ! What a day it was ! We went to meet 
 him in a special launch, and from the moment of his landing 
 until he finally reached his beloved home at Oyster Bay there 
 was nothing but one great call of delight from his fellow citizens 
 to the man who still stood to them for the whole of America. 
 His triumphs, the adulation which he had received from foreign 
 coimtries, epitomized to them the regard and respect poured 
 out to the United States by those other coimtries of the world. 
 The great crowds of his waving, cheering fellow citizens lined 
 the avenue of his triumphant progress, but when he finally joined 
 us at the house at which the family were assembled as a vantage- 
 point, he seraned just the same sweet, simple, joyous, and un- 
 ostentatious comrade as of yore. 
 
 That very first day he gave us the most amusing accounts of 
 some of his European experiences, humorously describing in- 
 fonnal lunches in Buckingham Palace, when the children of King 
 George and Queen Mary behaved very much as "young Amer- 
 ica" is accustomed to behave. He also gave us what our family 
 has always been pleased to term a "personal charade" of certain 
 events, especially one moment when the Kaiser behaved rather 
 like an arrogant schoolboy to one of the other royalties. He 
 laughingly referred to a message from the Kaiser during his 
 stay in London, when the above potentate sent him word that 
 he, William, would be glad to give him (ex-President Roose- 
 velt) three-quarters of an hour the next day of his precious time ! 
 
262 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 And ex-President RooseVelt in return sent him a rapid message 
 saying that he would be delighted to see William, but he regretted 
 that he coidd only give him twenty-five minutes ! He regaled 
 us for a long while with many such amusing stories, and then 
 went home to his beloved Sagamore Hill. 
 
 The following day an incident occurred which had a certain 
 prophetic quality about it. A great dinner was to be given to 
 him by Robert Collier, and as usual with his loving thought of 
 me (I had just returned from a trip aroimd the world and was 
 in very ill health) he wished to come to my house to spend the 
 night so as to see me. He arranged to be with me at five o'clock 
 in the afternoon, thus to have a long, quiet talk before the dinner. 
 I came in from the country and had afternoon tea waiting for 
 him in my library. A half-hour passed, and then another half- 
 hour, and I began to get distinctly nervous, because he was the 
 most prompt of individuals. At a little after ax he arrived look- 
 ing jaded and worried, and as he took his cup of tea, he turned to 
 me and said: "A very impleasant thing happened which made 
 me late. As you see, I am dressed perfectly inconspicuously, 
 and I slipped into Scribners [his publishers] a little before five 
 to say a word or two about my 'African Game Trails.' [Scrib- 
 ners at that time was situated at 2 2d Street and Fifth Avenue.] 
 When I went in there was no crowd at all, but somebody must 
 have seen me enter the bookstore, and when I came out a short 
 while afterward, a huge crowd had assembled, and literally would 
 not let me pass. They wanted to carry me on their shoulders; 
 they wanted to do utterly impossible and objectionable things; 
 and I realized at once that this was not the friendly reception 
 of yesterday, but that it represented a certain hysterical quality 
 which boded ill for my future. That type of crowd, feeling that 
 kind of way, means that within a very short time they will be 
 throwing rotten eggs at me. I may be on the crest of the wave 
 now, but mark my words, the attitude of that crowd means 
 that they will soon try to help me into the trough of the wave." 
 He was so impressed by this incident that that night at the Col- 
 
Wall Street Hopes 263 
 
 Her dinner he repeated and enlarged upon the theme of the 
 crest and the trough of the wave. 
 
 Yet, in looking back over my brother's life, I do not think 
 it can be said that in the true sense of the word he ever experi- 
 enced the trough of the wave. The great movement which re- 
 sulted in the Progressive party, instigated by internal dissensions 
 in the Republican party, brought Democratic rule into our coun- 
 try, but, although he was defeated for public office, it did not 
 throw liim into the trough of the wave, for in reality he emerged 
 from that great movement the leader of the majority of the Re- 
 publican party, as was shown on Election day in November, 
 191 2, when the vote for Theodore Roosevelt was infinitely larger 
 than that cast for the "regular" Republican candidate, WiUiam 
 Howard Taft. 
 
XIV 
 THE GREAT DENIAL 
 
 Who would not be 
 
 A baffled Moses with the eyes to see 
 
 The far fruition of the Promised Land ! 
 
 — C. R. R. 
 
 How can we manage with our Brother gone, 
 
 We smaller folk who looked to him to voice our voicelessness? 
 
 We do not call him to come back from that free plane where now he 
 
 moves untrammeled — 
 Un-beset by littleness, by envy of his power to read our hearts, 
 And blazon forth the message that he found there. 
 So that those in highest place among us needs must hear 
 And heed the will of us — ^the silent ones — 
 Who work, and think, and feel. 
 And are America. 
 
 — Gene Stanton Baker. 
 
 THEODORE ROOSEVELT had been at home but a few 
 short weeks when he realized fully that the policies so 
 dear to his heart, and which he had left in what he con- 
 sidered absolutely safe-keeping, had not been carried out. Al- 
 ready, in Congress, a large number of the younger Republicans 
 had combined together as what were then called "The Insur- 
 gents." In other words, the men who had fully believed in the 
 policies of Theodore Roosevelt, who felt that no proper progress 
 could be made toward better government of the United States xm- 
 less those policies were followed, had met on all sides with great 
 disappointment; and although the ex-President had hoped to 
 keep as absolutely " out of politics " as he had done in the African 
 jungle, these disheartened and disappointed men, representing 
 
 264 
 
The Great Denial 265 
 
 largely the younger and more ardent spirits of his country, turned 
 to him for leadership. These reminiscences of my brother are 
 not a biography, nor are they a political analysis of his public 
 life, and I must therefore pass over many occurrences, the most 
 important of which was his effort in the autumn of 1910 to defeat 
 the Barnes-Tammany combination in New York State by run- 
 ning Mr. Henry L. Stimson for governor, which finally resulted 
 in the position he took in January, 191 2. 
 
 During the eighteen months previous he had been contribut- 
 ing editor of The Outlook, and my letters from him in 191 1 were 
 few and far between, as we were frequently together. They 
 were, as usual, full of deep interest in and affection for me and 
 mine, and as at that time I began to publish verse, first anony- 
 mously and then under my own name, he gives me generous 
 praise in a note dated August 21, 1911: "I saw B. the other 
 day. He told me about the acceptance of your second poem, 
 and spoke most strongly about it, and he, just like everyone 
 else who has talked to me about the poem, dwelt upon its power 
 and purpose. [The poem in question was "The Call of Brother- 
 hood."] It. is not merely pretty, pleasant, trivial, the kind of 
 thing a boy or girl of twenty could have written; it is written 
 about and for those who have toiled and suffered and worked, 
 and who have known defeat and triumph; and it is written by 
 one of them." In his busy life, called upon endlessly in every 
 direction, he never failed to encourage any effort of mine worthy 
 of encouragement, nor indeed to discourage any effort of mine 
 of which he did not approve. "If convenient," he adds, "I will 
 come in about five next Friday for an hour's talk with you and 
 to see the other verses. I am sending you a zebra skin which I 
 hope you will like." 
 
 On October 5, 1911, he writes, referring to a political situa- 
 tion in Herkimer Coimty, where my son had run for state as- 
 semblyman, and where certain imsavory methods had been 
 used to defeat him (later, through legal procedure, he was given 
 his seat): "Teddy has been defrauded by as outrageous a piece 
 
266 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 of political scoundrelism as I have ever known. Of course, this 
 scoundrelism could succeed, only because last year, the big busi- 
 ness men, the great 'Conservatives,' and professional 'Intellec- 
 tuals' and the like, joined in securing the victory of Tammany 
 at the polls, and the consequent enthronement of the Barnes- 
 Sherman crowd in our party. If only we could have elected 
 Harry Stimson for governor, there would not have been an effort 
 made to handle Teddy as he has been handled." Already his 
 indignation was beginning to wax hot against certain methods 
 much in vogue in the Republican party at that time. 
 
 He had had no intention of ruiming for the presidential 
 nomination in 191 2, and, indeed, in the autumn of 191 1 told 
 many of his most faithfid supporters that he was very much 
 averse to doing so; but already a swelling tide of disapproval 
 of the Taft administration had increased in volume to such an 
 extent that it swept over a large part of the coimtry. The In- 
 surgents pleaded for a definite leadership, and to them, and to 
 many who did not call themselves by that name, there was but 
 one leader whom they were wflUng to follow, and that was Theo- 
 dore Roosevelt. 
 
 The force of this great wave culminated in the letter of the 
 seven governors in January, 1912, a letter in which those same 
 seven governors begged him to take, openly, the leadership of 
 Progressive Republicanism, and to allow his name to be used 
 as a presidential nominee in the June convention of 191 2. Just 
 before that letter was published, he writes in his usual sweet 
 way in connection with a visit which he and Mrs. Roosevelt 
 had intended to pay me in New York (they were at Sagamore 
 Hill). After speaking of an illness which prevented Mrs. Roose- 
 velt from coming to me, he said, knowing that I had made cer- 
 tain engagements for them: "Do you wish to have me come 
 alone ? Do exactly what you think best. I will be in for Tues- 
 day night in any case, and will be at your house as agreed. I 
 don't know when I have ever enjoyed an3rthing more than my 
 lunch at Fannie's [our dear friend Mrs. James Russell Parsons], 
 
The Great Denial 267 
 
 —it was a real feast of Lucullus, — only far better." This letter 
 is very bojash and content with friends and family, and most 
 unlike a man absorbed in schemes of sinister usurpation, schemes 
 of which he was so soon to be accused. 
 
 In the library at my own house in New York City, a fateful 
 meeting took place shortly after this last letter came. I confess 
 to having had serious doubts as to what his answer should be 
 to that request of the seven governors. Personally, I felt the 
 sacrifice asked of him was almost too great. I realized perfectly 
 the great struggle before him and all that it probably would 
 mean, and it seemed to me that he had already given all that was 
 required of just such service to his beloved country. But, just as 
 he felt in 1898 that, having preached war upon Spain, he must 
 take active part in that war, so in 191 2 he came to feel strongly 
 that, having inaugurated certain policies as President which 
 had not been carried out by his successor — Shaving preached 
 the necessity for industrial legislation which had not been 
 backed by those in public authority — ^it was his duty to bare his 
 breast to the "slings and arrows of outrageous fortune," and 
 accept the position of leader ofProgressive Republicanism in 
 order to try to translate into practical reality the ideals which 
 he had upheld before his countrymen. His answer to the seven 
 governors pledged himself to such leadership, and the great 
 upheaval of 191 2 took place. 
 
 Never before in his varied career had Theodore Roosevelt 
 felt such a sense of loneliness, for many of his nearest and dearest 
 friends were not in sympathy with some of his beliefs in 191 2. 
 I shall never forget the great meeting at Carnegie Hall, when 
 he proclaimed "the faith that was in him." He was like an in- 
 spired crusader that night when he cast away the notes from 
 which he had occasionally been reading and made the magnif- 
 icent peroration in which he proclaimed the fact that his doc- 
 trine was "Spend and Be Spent," and that no man worthy the 
 name of man would not be willing to be an instrument for the 
 success of his ideals — ^a broken instrument if need be. He re- 
 
268 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 turned after that thrilling speech to my house, and we sat a 
 long while talking over the serious step he had taken and the 
 possibilities the future held for him, and I felt that there was 
 a sense of dedication about him such as I believe the martyrs 
 of old must have felt. 
 
 In spite of the storm that broke around him after this 
 declaration, in spite of the manifold activities into which he im- 
 mediately cast himself, he takes the time to write to me, March 
 5, 1912, when my infant grandchild, born the month before, had 
 died of whooping-cough: "My darling Sister: You have in- 
 deed been through the waters of bitterness. The little baby! 
 I love little babies so, and I think of my own little grand- 
 daughter, and I mourn with you and Douglas. Now, I think 
 only with a pang of our lovely day last Sunday. [We had spent 
 that Sunday with him at Oyster Bay.] If I could have come up 
 to Albany I would have done so. Ever your devoted brother." 
 
 The great convention of 191 2 took place, and through the 
 ruling of the chairman certain delegates pledged to Theodore 
 Roosevelt were deprived of their seats, a ruling which meant 
 his defeat as Republican candidate. I was ill at the time and 
 could not be present on that epoch-making occasion. I only 
 know that its result after the above ruling was considered by 
 my brother absolutely inevitable, and that he never regarded 
 that result, as did so many people, as the most unfortimate cir- 
 cumstance of his life. Writing a year and a half later for the 
 Century Magazine, in October, 1913, he says: "Fundamentally 
 the reason for the existence of the Progressive Party was found 
 in two facts: first, the absence of real distinctions between the 
 old parties which correspond to those parties; and, second, the 
 determined refusal of the men in control of both parties to use 
 the party organizations and their control of the Government, 
 for the purpose of dealing with the problems really vital to our 
 people. ... A party which alternately nominated Mr. Bryan 
 and Mr. Parker for President, and a party wherein Messrs. Pen- 
 rose, LaFollette, and Smoot, stand as the three brothers of 
 
The Great Denial 269 
 
 leadership, can by no possibility supply the need of this country 
 for efficient and coherent governmental action as regards the 
 really vital questions of the day." In the same article he pro- 
 ceeds to analyze the reasons for the formation of the Progressive 
 Party, and continues: 
 
 "The problems connected with the trusts, the problems con- 
 nected with child labor, and all similar matters can be solved 
 only by affirmative national action. No party is progressive 
 which does not set the authority of the National Government 
 as supreme in these matters. No party is progressive which 
 does not give to the people the right to determine for them- 
 selves, after due opportunity for deliberation, but without end- 
 less difficulty and delay, what the standards of social and in- 
 dustrial justice shaU be; and, furthermore, the right to insist 
 upon the servants of the people, legislative and judicial alike, 
 paying heed to the wishes of the people as to what the law 
 of the land shall be. The Progressive party believes with 
 Thomas JefiFerson, with Andrew Jackson, with Abraham Lin- 
 coln, that this is a govermnent of the people, to be used for the 
 people, so as to better the condition of the average man and 
 average woman of the nation in the intimate and homely con- 
 cerns of their daily lives; and thus to use the government means 
 that it must be used after the manner of Hamilton and Lincoln 
 to serve the purposes of Jefferson and Lincoln. 
 
 "We are for the people's rights. Where these rights can 
 best be obtained by exercise of the powers of the State, there 
 we are for States' rights. Where they can best be obtained by 
 the exercise of the powers of the National Gk)vemment, there, 
 we are for National rights. We are not interested in this as an 
 abstract doctrine; we are interested in it concretely. . . . We 
 believe in the principle of a living wage. We hold that it is ruin- 
 ous for all our people, if some of our people are forced to subsist 
 on a wage such that body and soul alike are stimted." 
 
 Referring to the Industrial and Social Justice plank of the 
 platform of the Progressive party, he continues: 
 
270 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 "The propositions are definite and concrete. They repre- 
 sent for the first time in our political history the specific and 
 reasoned purpose of a great party to use the resources of the 
 government in sane fashion for industrial betterment, . . . 
 
 "To sum up, then, our position is, after all, simple. We 
 believe that the government should concern itself chiefly with 
 the matters that are of most importance to the average man 
 and average woman, and that it should be its special province 
 to aid in making the conditions of life easier for these ordinary 
 men and ordinary women, who compose the great bulk of our 
 people. To this end we believe that the people should have 
 direct control over their own governmental agencies, and that 
 when this control has been secured, it should be used with reso- 
 lution, but with sanity and self-restraint, in the effort to make 
 conditions fairer and better for the men and wonien of the 
 nation." 
 
 I have inserted this quotation from his own writings in 1913, 
 for it gives clearly the objects and aims of that party, bom at 
 Chicago amid scenes of almost religious enthusiasm in June, 
 191 2, nor did that enthusiasm wane for one single moment 
 during the following months; on the contrary, it rose to the 
 heighths of dedication. 
 
 There were some who lost their sense of proportion, but by, 
 far the greater number of those who followed Theodore Roose- 
 velt in that extraordinary campaign were imbued with a high 
 sense of a "Great Cause," a cause which had never before been 
 translated into the common sense of possible achievement. The 
 New York State Progressive Convention met at Syracuse, and 
 at that assemblage I was able to be present, and whatever doubts 
 might have been in my breast before were swept away by a 
 deep conviction of the fact that the Progressive Party was the 
 true interpretation of the highest ideal of democracy. 
 
 Just abbut the time of the Progressive Convention at Syra-, 
 cuse, an article appeared, written by a citizen of Unadilla, 
 N. Y., C. C. Penny by name, in which the above citizen gives 
 
The Great Denial 271 
 
 the reasons which induced him to vote for "Teddy," as he 
 affectionately calls the colonel. 
 
 "To the Editor of the Utica Daily Press:— 
 
 "Having had the question put up to me as to what Roose- 
 velt has ever done politically to better conditions, I would sub- 
 mit the following: First, — ^What did Mr. Roosevelt do as Presi- 
 dent that he should not have done in the public interest, or that 
 was dangerous or hurtful to business? Mr. Roosevelt's inter- 
 vention in the coal strike benefited all consumers; Mr. Roose- 
 velt is responsible for the Pure Food and Drugs Act; the open 
 door to American commerce with China; the settlement of the 
 Russo-Japan War; Panama Canal project; conservation of 
 natural resources; reduction of interest-bearing debt by more 
 than ninety million dollars; settlement of the Alaska boundary 
 dispute; an act calling for the extension of forest reserves; na- 
 tional irrigation act; employers' liability act; safety appliances 
 and regulation of railroad employees' hours of labor. — ^Was Mr. 
 Roosevelt's work in bringing about the settlement of the Russo- 
 Japan War dangerous and hurtful to business? Was Roose- 
 velt's Panama Canal project dangerous and hurtful to busi- 
 ness? Was his movement for the conservation of our natural 
 resources dangerous and hurtful to business? These are a few 
 of the things which he suggested and carried through with the 
 help of his followers. Besides, he recommended many other re- 
 forms such as Postal Savings Bank, Parcels Post, and Inheri- 
 tance Tax and Income Tax which he had not time to cany 
 through during his last term. 
 
 "All these, it seems to me, are reforms to better the con- 
 ditions of the great mass of people. The Progressive platform 
 has been growing for the last sixteen years all through the North- 
 west, and West and South, only waiting for a man to come out, 
 bold enough to take the lead. Mr. Roosevelt, it seems, has dared 
 to take this step, and whether we win or lose, it is a step forward 
 to the betterment of the conditions of all who toil and consume. 
 
272 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 I have always voted the Republican ticket, but I consider that 
 true Republican principles at this time rest with the Progressive 
 Party, and I shall vote for that party this Fall, and for Teddy, 
 win or lose." 
 
 In October that year my volume of poems called by the title 
 of its first poem, "The Call of Brotherhood," was published, 
 and my brother writes me at once, though in the midst of pressing 
 duties: "I love 'The Call of Brotherhood'; somehow it seems 
 to express just what we are now battling for in the political arena. 
 Well, the feeling, the longing, the desire, the determination you 
 have made throb in these poems, also make it impossible for us 
 to sit in fat content and not strive for better things in actual 
 life. When we felt rather inarticulately just what you have 
 written, we simply couldn't refrain from the effort [he refers 
 to the Progressive Party] as a practical means to realize high 
 ideals. That is what we must do with high ideals, — apply them 
 and try to live up to them, and to make them work. — ^Joe and 
 Teddy have done wonderful work; and so has Douglas. . . . 
 I seem to have cost my friends much in all kinds of ways in this 
 campaign; that was one of the reasons why I so hated to go 
 into it." Many people misjudged his motives and thought that 
 he went into it for selfish purposes; never was there a more mis- 
 taken conception of the actions of a patriot. 
 
 In a letter written September i, he says: "I am just leaving 
 for the West. It has been a very interesting fight, and never 
 was there a fight better worth making, but the exertion is tre- 
 mendous, and I look forward to Election Day as the end of a 
 battle." 
 
 During that Western trip, he had one of his greatest per- 
 sonal ovations. One of the Western newspapers says: 
 
 "In Portland, Oregon, the dty practically stopped business 
 and .turned out to receive its guest. In each dty, the personal 
 element of the greeting was remarkable. No one was thinking 
 of Colonel Roosevelt in connection with his past office as Presi- 
 
The Great Denial 273 
 
 ent. He was 'Roosevelt.' It was 'Hello Teddy' and 'Hurrah 
 )r Teddy' everywhere along the densely packed streets where 
 e appeared. His speeches to these multitudes were neither 
 riginal nor new, but the people understood them. The enthu- 
 iasm of these western cities for the ex-President seems ahnost 
 ibulous. At Portland, hundreds of school children escorted 
 he automobile. Women brought their children, cripples were 
 rheeled to horse blocks, men climbed on cornices and pediments, 
 lothers of twins pressed to the side of the car, people literally 
 lackened sidewalks, residence verandas, windows of houses, 
 ven the trees. At Tacoma a woman was heard to remark, 'If 
 his ex-President has lost his popularity, I would hate to be in 
 , crowd that had gathered to see an ex-President who had not 
 Dst his popularity,' — and everywhere he preached the common- 
 ense doctrine: — 
 
 "Now friends, what I have said to you is pretty elemen- 
 ary, — so elementary that it comes mighty near being common- 
 ilace, but I will teU you that the truths that really count are 
 he elementary truths. The individual whom we respect is not 
 aerely the brilliant individual. The man whom we wish our 
 ons to resemble is the man who has the ordinary virtues de- 
 veloped to more than the ordinary degree." 
 
 He himself believed that he was not a man of genius but 
 )nly a man with average talents, talents which by sheer deter- 
 nination and will-power he had developed to a more than ordi- 
 lary degree. 
 
 Shortly after the ovation ia Oregon, he writes on September 
 [5 from San Francisco: "Of course this trip is inconceivably 
 vearing, but what a fine fight it is, anyhow ! " To him it was a 
 ![reat crusade for the right, and his soul was at white heat in 
 he cause of righteousness. 
 
 Later came the dramatic moment in Milwaukee when he 
 tceived in his breast the bullet of a would-be assassin. He pro- 
 ;ected the man, believing him to be insane, from the angry crowd 
 ivho would have gladly torn him limb from limb; and then 
 
274 ^y Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 proceeded, though bleeding from an open wound, to make what 
 he fully believed would probably be the last speech that he would 
 ever make in this world. The doctors could not influence him 
 to give up the speech, for he said that should it prove to be his 
 last, it was all the more important that he should make it. But, 
 thank Heaven, it was not his last ! 
 
 During his convalescence in the hospital in Chicago, he sent 
 me one of his sympathetic letters about another recently pub- 
 lished poem, and also replied to a letter from Sir George 
 Trevelyan as follows: "I must say I have never imderstood 
 public men who got nervous about assassination. For the last 
 eleven years I have, of course, thoroughly understood that I 
 might at any time be shot, and probably would be shot some- 
 time. I think I have come off uncommonly well. What I can- 
 not understand is any serious-minded public man not being so 
 absorbed in the great, vital questions with which he has to deal, 
 as to exclude thoughts of assassination. I don't think this is 
 a matter of courage at all. I think it a question of the major 
 interest driving out the minor interest. Exactly as with the 
 army, — a private may have qualms, — ^not so a General. He is 
 responsible for more than his personal safety. It is not a ques- 
 tion of courage, it is a question of perspective, of proper propor- 
 tion." Nothing has ever been more in keeping with the actions 
 of Theodore Roosevelt than the above sentence: "it is a ques- 
 tion of the major interest driving out the minor interest." With 
 him, all through his life, the sense of proportion was a prominent 
 part of his make-up. The "major interest" always drove out 
 the "minor interest," and so strong was his sense of responsibil- 
 ity, so absorbed was he in the great affairs of his coxmtry, that 
 the thought of possible assassination never entered his valiant 
 breast. 
 
 The greatest moment of all that inspiring period of his life 
 came late in October, at the end of the campaign, when Theo- 
 dore Roosevelt, the bullet still in his breast, but miraculously 
 restored to health and strength, came to the city of his birth 
 
The Great Denial 275 
 
 to make the final speech of the Progressive campaign at Madi- 
 son Square Garden. Not only was the spirit of the Crusade 
 higher than ever, but the danger so lately experienced by their 
 leader had given to his followers an exaltation never surpassed 
 at any time in our political history. I have always been glad 
 that for some imexplained reason the pass which had been 
 given to me that night for my motor was not accepted by the 
 policeman in charge, and I, my husband, my son Monroe, and 
 our friend Mrs. Parsons were obliged to take our places in the 
 cheering, laughing, singing crowd which formed in line many 
 blocks below the Garden to walk up to the entrance-door. 
 How it swayed and swung ! how it throbbed with life and ela- 
 tion ! how imbued it was with an earnest party ambition, and 
 yet, with a deep and genuine religious fervor. Had I lived my 
 whole life only for those fifteen minutes during which I marched 
 toward the Garden already full to overflowing with my brother's 
 adoring followers, I should have been content to do so. We 
 could hardly get into the building, and indeed had to climb 
 up the fire-escape, which we were only allowed to do after 
 making it well known that I was the sister of the "Colonel." 
 (There never was but one "Colonel" in American history!) 
 The whole meeting was one of an ineffable and intense emo- 
 tional quality. We could hear the singing and the cheers of the 
 thousands outside on the street, as inside my brother came 
 forward to the platform, and the vast audience rose to its feet 
 to acclaim its hero. Such moments do not often occur in a life- 
 time, and when they do, they leave in their wake a wonderful 
 sense of what the highest type of religion should mean — a reli- 
 gion selfless as the Christlike faith upon which all true religion 
 is founded. 
 
 A few days later, Woodrow Wilson, the Democratic though 
 minority candidate, was elected President of the United States. 
 
XV 
 
 WHISPERINGS OF WAR 
 
 SAGAMORE HILL 
 
 He is a moose, 
 
 Scarred, battered from the hmiters, thickets, stones: 
 
 Some finest tips of antkrs broken off, 
 
 And eyes where images of ancient things 
 
 nit back and forth across them, keeping still 
 
 A certain slumberous indifference, 
 
 Or wisdom, it may be. 
 
 — ^Edgar Lee Masters. 
 
 Rightly to be great 
 
 Is not to stir, without great argument. 
 But greatly to find quarrel in a straw 
 When Honour's at the stake. 
 
 — Hamlet. 
 
 NO man in America ever received the backing of so large 
 a personal following as did Theodore Roosevelt in the 
 election of 191 2, but owing to the fact that opinion was 
 divided, the Democratic party, although a minority parly, was 
 put in power. It has been the habit of some to speak of 
 my brother as having split the Republican party. This has 
 always seemed to me an unfair criticism. It was proved by 
 the actual vote at the polls that the larger half of what up to 
 that time had been the Republican party was in favor of Theo- 
 dore Roosevelt for President. His majority over Mr. Taf t was 
 unquestioned. A minority, not a majority, disrupts a party. 
 Nothing is truer, however, than that a really great man cannot 
 be defeated. He can lose official position, he can see the office 
 which he craved because of its potential power for right doing 
 pass into the hands of another; but in the higher sense of the 
 
 276 
 
Whisperings of War 277 
 
 rord he cannot be defeated if his object has been righteousness, 
 f his inner vision has been the true betterment of his country. 
 
 And so during the years that followed 1912, Theodore Roose- 
 relt, although holding no official position, became more than 
 ;ver the leader of a great portion of the people of America. Loyal 
 is he was, he felt that having (as he phrased it) "led a vast 
 irmy into the wilderness," he must stand by them through 
 iick and thin. 
 
 In 1913, having been asked to make certain addresses in 
 South America, he decided to accept the invitation. But be- 
 ;ore sailing he went to Rochester, N. Y., to make a speech, and 
 uranged that my husband and I should meet him and have 
 m evening quietly with him. Immediately after that there 
 was a great farewell dinner to him in New York, at the Hotel 
 \stor. The crowd was suffocating. It seemed as if the enthu- 
 iiasm for him and for Progressive principles was even more 
 joignant than the year before — perhaps the realization that their 
 eader was to leave them, even for a comparatively short time, 
 ncreased the ardor of the convictions of his followers — and the 
 spirit of that evening was so vital, so dedicated in quality, that 
 t will never fade from my mind. The next day he and Mrs. 
 Roosevelt sailed for the Argentine Republic, £ind within a few 
 nonths she returned home, and he again lost himself in a new 
 idventure. The little boy of six in the nursery at 20th Street 
 lad read with fervent interest of the adventures of the great 
 explorer Livingston. He had achieved his ambition to follow 
 hose adventures as a mighty hunter in Africa; he had achieved 
 naay another ambition, but none was more intense with him 
 han the desire to put a so-called "River of Doubt" on the map 
 tf the world. 
 
 Again Kermit was his companion, and the latter has given, 
 IS no one else could give, the most vivid description of that trip 
 a his book called "The Happy Hunting Grounds." In that 
 look he describes his father's desperate illness, and his heroic 
 md unflinching courage when, with a temperature of one hun- 
 
278 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 dred and five, he struggled on throuigh the mazes of the jungle, 
 weak and weary, unselfishly begging his companions to leave 
 him to die, for he felt that his condition endangered the pos- 
 sibility of their escape alive from their difficulties. As in Africa, 
 so in South America his tireless energy, even when weakened by 
 illness, never failed to accomplish his purpose, and not only did 
 he put the "River of Doubt" on the map — a river which from 
 that time forth was called Rio Teodoro, after Theodore Roose- 
 velt, the explorer — ^but during those suffering, exhausting weeks 
 he never once failed to keep his promise to his publishers, and 
 to write, on the spot, the incidents of each day's adventures. 
 Robert Bridges, of Scribners, has shown me the water-soaied 
 manuscript, written in my brother's own handwriting, of that 
 extraordinary expedition. In several places on the blotched 
 sheets he makes a deprecatory note — " This is not written very 
 clearly; my temperature is 105." Such perseverance, such per- 
 sistence are really superhuman; but perhaps it is also true that 
 the human being must eventually pay the price of what the 
 superman achieves. 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt returned from that Brazilian trip a man 
 in whom a secret poison still lurked, and although his won- 
 derful vitality, his magnificent strength of character, mind, and 
 body, seemed at times to restore him to the perfect health of 
 former da)^, he was never wholly free from recurrent attacks 
 of the terrible jungle fever, which resulted in ill health of various 
 kinds, and finally in his death. 
 
 True to his loyal convictions, he was determined to give all 
 the aid possible to the candidates on the Progressive ticket for 
 the election of 1914. His wife writes, August, 1914: "Theodore 
 seems really better, although I scarcely think he will have voice 
 for the three speeches he has planned for the last of the month. 
 I asked him if I could say anything from him about the War, 
 and he simply threw up his hailds in despair." This letter was 
 written nine days after the cataclysm of the Great War had 
 broken upon the world. From the beginning he said to his family 
 
Whisperings of War 279 
 
 s?hat he did not feel he could state publicly, owing to the fact 
 that he did not wish to embarrass President Wilson. Having 
 been President himself, he knew it was possible for one in high 
 luthority to have information which he could not immediately 
 share with all the people, and he hoped this might be the reason 
 3f President Wilson's failure to make any protest when the 
 ;nemy troops invaded Belgium. 
 
 To his family, however, he spoke frankly and always with 
 deep regret that the President enjoined a neutral attitude in 
 the beginning. He felt, from the very first, that the Allies were 
 ighting our battles; that the British fleet was the protector 
 jf the United States as much as it was the protector of Great 
 Britain; that a protest should have immediately been made 
 by the United States when the Germans marched through Bel- 
 gium. All these views he stated to his family and to his friends, 
 but for the first few months after August i, 1914, he felt that, 
 as an influential citizen, he might hurt the fulfilment of what- 
 ever plan the Presidfent might have in view in connection with 
 the Allies were he openly to criticise the President's course of 
 lotion. Later in the war he told me how much he regretted 
 that, from a high sense of duty toward the Executive, he had 
 (»ntrolled himself during those first few months when we were 
 jsked by President Wilson to be neutral even in thought. 
 
 In my sister-in-law's letter, quoted above, she speaks of her 
 doubt as to whether my brother would be strong enough to make 
 the speeches which hehadagreedtomake. ThePhila.delpbia, North 
 American published, about that time, an editorial called "The 
 fVmazing Roosevelt," a few paragraphs of which run as follows: 
 
 "On April 30th, there came out of the seething jungles of 
 Brazil to a river port 1000 miles up the Amazon, a man who was 
 heralded by cable dispatches as broken in body and perma- 
 aently impaired in mind. ... On his arrival at home, there 
 were grave dicta from former -critics that never again would 
 this man be a force in public life. The solemnity of these pro- 
 nouncements scarcely concealed the gratification which they 
 
28o My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 gave to some who promulgated them. Unbiassed stories of the 
 hardships suffered in the tropical forests appeared to be cumula- 
 tive evidence to support the belief that Theodore Roosevelt 
 was 'done for' as a factor in public life. 
 
 "A sick man had virtually dragged himself through the most 
 obdurate jungle still unmapped. ... It had looked as if the 
 entire party might be sacrificed and he had begged his followers 
 to go on and leave him to take care of himself. On his return, 
 he was warned by an eminent specialist that he must eschew 
 speech-making if he hoped to avoid permanent injury to his 
 throat. Another specialist warned him that impaired vital 
 organs necessitated his withdrawing altogether from public 
 activities. This was the Roosevelt who went to Pittsburgh to 
 speak to the Progressives of Pennsylvania this week. What was 
 it the Progressives gathered there to hear? Was it a swan song, 
 — ^was it the plea of a broken man, — ^what was the character of 
 the gathering? Was it a congregation of saddened and disheart- 
 ened people, come to pay a kindly tribute to a passing leader? 
 It was none of these things. The demonstration for Roosevelt 
 and Progressive principles surpassed anything in the 1912 cam- 
 paign, and the Roosevelt who greeted this great demonstration 
 was the vigorous, fighting Roosevelt who so long had led the 
 people's battles. He was never received with more enthusiasm. 
 The New York Times, not a paper in favor of Colonel Roosevelt, 
 said: 'The Peimsylvania Progressives gave Colonel Roosevelt 
 a welcome tonight which must have reminded hiTn of 1912. The 
 demonstration was a remarkable one.' And The World said: 
 'The Colonel enjoyed every minute. Malaria was forgotten 
 and all physical weakness along with it as he stood at the vortex 
 of the night's enthusiasm.' 
 
 "No one can read the speech which Roosevelt made that 
 night without being convinced that the dismal forebodings that 
 came out of that Amazon port last April, have already been 
 discredited, and that the man who in 191 2 stood with an as- 
 sassin's bullet near his heart, and insisted upon delivering a 
 
Whisperings of War 281 
 
 message which might be his last, is not to be broken or even 
 impaired in 1914 by the hardships of a South American jimgle. 
 It is but another example of the amaziag Roosevelt." 
 
 That same autumn of 1914 he came to our old home in Her- 
 kinier County once more, but this time he was the guest of my 
 son Theodore Douglas Robinson, and stayed at his house, which 
 adjoins the old home. From there Mrs. Parsons and he and I 
 joined the candidate for governor on the Progressive ticket. 
 State Senator Frederick A. Davenport, and former State Sena- 
 tor Newcomb, for a short speaking tour to uphold the candidacy 
 of Senator Davenport. We knew there was very little hope of 
 success, but my brother had recuperated apparently from the 
 Brazilian trip, and we spent two merry days dashing through 
 Herkimer and Otsego counties. In spite of anxiety and a deep 
 sense of distress about Old World conditions, for a brief mo- 
 ment we threw off all care, and in the glorious autumn sunshiae, 
 followed by cheering crowds, we enjoyed one of the triumphal 
 processions which were almost always a sine qua turn wherever 
 he appeared. One specially merry afternoon and evening was 
 spent at the home of James Fenimore Cooper. My brother 
 was to speak at Cooperstown in the afternoon, and Mr. Cooper 
 invited us to diimer, but I told him that the party must reach 
 Oneonta for dinner, so that we could only take afternoon tea 
 at his house. I had not confided this refusal to Theodore, simply 
 taking it for granted that it would be impossible for us to accept 
 the Cooper invitation and reach Oneonta in time for his eve- 
 ning speech. The Cooper home, full of treasures that had de- 
 scended from Mr. Cooper's grandfather, the author of "The Last 
 of the Mohicans," etc., and equally full of charming people, gave 
 us so warm a welcome, and we had such an agreeable time there, 
 that my brother was very loath to leave, but at 6.30 I insisted 
 that we must start for Oneonta. We were aheady in the motors 
 when Mr. Cooper, leaning over to say good-by, assured Colonel 
 Roosevelt of his regret that he could not stay to dinner. "Din- 
 ner?" said my brother. "I didn't know I was asked to dinner." 
 
282 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 "Yes, you were, of course," said Mr. Cooper; "but your sister, 
 Mrs. Robinson, refused to let you stay for dinner, saying that 
 you would have to reach Oneonta at 8 o'clock," "May I ask," 
 said my brother in a high falsetto, "what business my sister, Mrs. 
 Robinson, had to refuse a dinner invitation for me ? " And, with a 
 boimd, he leaped from the automobile, shaking, laughingly, his 
 fist at me, and said, "Dioner with the Coopers ! Well, of course, 
 I am going to stay to diimer," and returned rapidly to the 
 house, followed meekly by his party. The hospitable and re- 
 sourceful Coopers, who naturally, after my refusal, had not ex- 
 pected seven extra people to dinner, turned in, assisted by Theo- 
 dore himself, and proceeded to scramble eggs and broil bacon, 
 much to the amusement and delight of the cook, who had never 
 had an ex-President in her kitchen before, and of all the merry 
 dinner-parties that I have ever attended, that one, forced upon 
 the delightful Fenimore Coopers, was about the merriest. 
 
 Senator Davenport had been in poor health at the time, 
 and my brother called him entirely "Little Eva," after the 
 angel child of Harriet Beechef Stowe's "Uncle Tom's Cabin," 
 both because of his rather transparent appearance and his 
 high-minded principles (upon which the Colonel dilated in his 
 speeches). He called himself "Uncle Tom," and Senator New- 
 comb "Simon Legree," and those cognomens and no others 
 were used throughout the entire trip, which proved a veritable 
 holiday. 
 
 But neither that trip nor any other trip could have changed 
 the fate of the Progressive candidates in 1914, and New York 
 State showed at election time, as did various other states in 
 the coxmtry, that America was not prepared for a third party, 
 even though that party stood, more than did any other party, 
 for the practical conmion sense and high idealism of Theodore 
 Roosevelt. 
 
 Just before Election day I accompanied him to Princeton, 
 where Doctor John Grier Hibben, president of the university, 
 received him with distinction, and asked him to speak to the 
 
Whisperings of- War 283 
 
 lody of students there not only on political faiths but on "Pre- 
 laredness." Unless I am very much mistaken, the first speech 
 m that subject in the United States during the Great War was 
 hat very address made in the auditorium of Princeton ia No- 
 rember, 1914, by my brother. His young and eager listeners 
 mong the student body applauded him to the echo. The 
 :ause of preparedness and true Americanism had no stancher 
 ipholder at that time, nor in the diflScult years to come, than 
 'resident Hibben of Princeton University. Theodore Roosevelt, 
 Henry Cabot Lodge, Leonard Wood, John Grier Hibben, Au- 
 ;ustus P. Gardner, and other far-seeing patriots, stood from the 
 )eginning for the Allies against the Huns, and for "Prepared- 
 less" of a thorough kind. Had their advice been followed, 
 jermany would very soon have sensed how formidable an in- 
 luence in the war America could be. I am convinced there 
 vould have been no sinking of the Lusitania, and hundreds of 
 iousands of gallant young men would not have lost their lives 
 )n Flanders Fields. 
 
 On November 12, 1914, after Election day, my brother writes 
 ne: "Darling Corinne: — ^That is a very dear letter of yours! 
 [ shall make no further statement. Did you see my quotation 
 from Timothy 11, Chapter 4, verses 3 and 4? It covers the 
 iirhole situation. Ever yours, Theodore Roosevelt." 
 
 The verses referred to are as follows: 
 
 (3) For the time will come when they will not endure sound 
 ioctrine; but after their own lusts shall they heap to themselves 
 teachers, having itching ears; 
 
 (4) And they shall turn away their ears from the truth, and 
 shall be turned unto fables. 
 
 He was very apt to siun up a situation in some pregnant 
 rerse from the Bible. 
 
 The winter of 1915 was trying to him in certain ways, espe- 
 :ially on accoimt of the Barnes libel suit. He had made the 
 statement that Mr. Barnes had, politically, a bipartisan atti- 
 tude, and indeed more than attitude, and Mr. Barnes decided 
 
284 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 to bring a suit for libel against him. In spite of this annoyance, 
 however, he writes me various letters, some merry, and all deal- 
 ing with subjects where he or I could be of help to others less 
 fortunate. In one case, in connection with a certain French 
 pastor, to whom I could not be of assistance in the wiay in 
 which he had hoped, he writes: "I xmderstand perfectly. I felt 
 like a swine when I wrote you, but the poor, dear pastor was 
 such a pathetic figure that from sheer mushy weakness I yielded, 
 and strove to do something for him." And later, in connection 
 with a penniless poet: "Can you give me any advice? I wish 
 I knew some wealthy creature who was interested in poor strug- 
 gling poets and could help them, and also help their poor wives 
 and children after their deaths. Lord ! how hard life is !" That 
 time I was able to help him, and raised quite a sum for 
 the struggling individual in question, whom I thought truly 
 deserved help. 
 
 Just then Mrs. William Astor Chanler arranged a charming 
 play for the benefit of a war charity, a play in which there were 
 scenes depicting Washington at Valley Forge. My little grand- 
 son took the part of his many times great-grandfather, Captain 
 Isaac Roosevelt, and my brother, with sympathetic pleasure, 
 came as an honored guest to the performance, and was later 
 photographed with the small actors. He writes from Syracuse, 
 where he had gone to take the defense for himself in the libel 
 suit: "Was little Captain Isaac Roosevelt one of the bewilder- 
 ing number of small Revolutionary leaders who had their photo- 
 graphs taken with me? I have felt a pang that I did not par- 
 ticularly seek him out, but the confusion was so great that I 
 could not identify any one of the constantly revolving small 
 boys and girls behind the scenes; and xmtil we were actually 
 in place I had supposed that they were aU to have their photo- 
 graphs taken with me." In this same letter he says, speaking of 
 the fact that his wife had been ill when he left New York: "I 
 have been so worried about Edith that this libel suit has both- 
 ered me very little. Of course I was rather tired by my nine 
 
Whisperings of War 285 
 
 days on the witness stand, but I felt I made my case pretty dear. 
 How the suit will go I have no idea, but in any event I do not 
 feel that my friends have any cause to be ashamed of me." On 
 May 24, at the end of the suit, in which he scored a great 
 triumph, he writes: "Dearest Corinne and Douglas: It was 
 fine to get your telegrams and letters. You two were among 
 those who I knew would stand by me absolutely, win or lose; 
 but I am awfully glad it is a case of winning and not losing. Just 
 as soon as you get back from Virginia I must see you both and 
 tell you everything." He did tell us everything, and many were 
 the things that he told! 
 
 Twice in his life Theodore Roosevelt took part in libel suits. 
 In the first case he brought the suit against a nevy^spaper which 
 had openly accused him of intoxication. In the second place 
 he was the defendant, as I have already mentioned. Nothing 
 was ever more unfoimded than the strange and persistent nunor 
 that Theodore Roosevelt indulged in intoxicating liquors. It 
 has been my great good fortune to have been associated with 
 men of great self-control as regards drink, but of all my intimate 
 contemporaries, no one ever drank as little as my brother. I do 
 not think he ever in his life tasted a cocktail, and he hated whis- 
 key, and it rarely could be found at Sagamore Hill. He occa- 
 sionally took a glass of sherry or port or champagne, but those, 
 even, only occasionally; and how the report started that he 
 overindulged in drink no one has ever been able to discover; 
 but like many another sinister thing it swelled with its own 
 volume, and after Serious thought he chose an occasion when 
 he could make a definite charge, and demanded a trial when 
 the newspaper in question printed the heretofore only whispered 
 untruth. I do not believe that so many distinguished men ever 
 before travelled to a remote Western town, as travelled to give 
 testimony about the sobriety of Theodore Roosevelt. Foreign 
 ambassadors, famous generals, scientists, literary men, artists, all 
 journeyed in an endless trail to give, with ardent loyalty, their 
 personal knowledge of the impeccable habits of my brother. 
 
286 My Brother i heodore Kooseveit 
 
 The result was an award of damages which my brother refused 
 to take and the most abject apologies on the part of the editor. 
 The other suit, the Barnes suit, was entirely dififerent, for in that 
 transaction he was the man to make the accusation, and his op- 
 ponent was a most brilliant and acute individual, and even 
 although my brother's followers were confident of the accuracy 
 of the statement he had made, for his statements were con- 
 sistently accurate, still we felt that some apparent lack of proof, 
 even though only apparent, might bring about an unfortunate 
 result. Mr. John Bowers, one of the most able of his profes- 
 sion, was my brother's lawyer, and he later gave me many an 
 amusing description of that extraordinary case. The counsel 
 for the plaintiff were always averse to allowing my brother to 
 testify, for the effect he produced upon the jury was immedi- 
 ate and startling. The opposing side would object to nearly 
 everything he said, simply because anything he said induced a 
 rapid and favorable response from the jury. In one part of 
 the testimony Mr. Bowers told me that my brother had re- 
 peated a conversation between Mr. Barnes and himself, and 
 had gone into accurate detail, which was listened to by the 
 jury with intense and sympathetic excitement, whereupon the 
 lawyer for the plaintiff objected to Mr. Roosevelt's statement 
 as an "irrelevant monologue." Quick as a flash my brother 
 turned upon the objector and said that "of course the gentle- 
 man in question might call it a monologue, but as Mr. Barnes 
 had had as much to do with the conversation as himself, he, 
 personally, would call it a dialogue." This retort brought down 
 not only the house but the jury, and the imfortunate oppos- 
 ing lawyer withdrew his objection. That story and many others 
 my brother recounted to us with himiorous and sarcastic de- 
 light, shortly after the end of the trial, around a family tea- 
 table one Sunday evening at Sagamore Hill. 
 
 In September of that year, 1915, we suffered the loss of our 
 beloved friend Mrs. Henry Cabot Lodge. Since the early days 
 of 1884, she had shared the joys and sorrows of our lives. Beau- 
 
Whisperings of War 287 
 
 tiful, brilliant, sjmipathetic, exquisite in her delicate individual- 
 ity, in her intellectual inspiration, in her fine hiunor and sense 
 of values — her beautiful head like a rare cameo, her wonderful 
 gray-blue eyes looking out imder dark, level brows, she remains 
 one of the pictures most treasured in the memories of the Roose- 
 velt family. My brother was always at his best with her, and 
 I have rarely heard him talk in a broader and more compre- 
 hensive way of politics and literature than in the homelike li- 
 brary at 1765 Massachusetts Avenue, the house where Senator 
 and Mrs. Lodge were always surrounded by an intimate circle 
 of friends. By her tea-table, in the rocking-chair bought espe- 
 cially for him, Theodore Roosevelt would sit and rock when he 
 snatched a happy half-hour after his ride with the senator in 
 those old days when he was the President of the United States. 
 Mrs. Lodge had the power of stimulating the conversation of 
 others, as well as the gift of leading in conversation herself, and 
 the best " talk " that I have ever heard was around her tea-table 
 in Washington. Her sudden death was a great blow to my 
 brother as it was to us all. 
 
 All through that year and through the year to come, although 
 severely censured for his criticisms of the President's policies, 
 my brother worked with arduous determination, shoulder to 
 shoulder with General Leonard Wood and Augustus P. Gardner, 
 to arouse the American people to the danger of non-prepared- 
 ness, and to the shame of allowing the exhausted Allies to bear 
 without America's help the brunt of the battle. Those men of 
 vision realized, fully, that in a world aflame, no nation could 
 posably escape the danger of conflagration. Not only from that 
 standpoint did the apostles of preparedness press forward, but 
 from the love of democracy also. These courageous patriots 
 wished to have their coxmtry share spontaneously from the be- 
 gimiing the effort for righteousness for which France, England, 
 and Italy were giving the lives of the flower of their youth. 
 
 By pen, and even more by word of mouth, always at the 
 expense of his energy, Theodore Roosevelt went up and down 
 
288 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 the country, preaching the doctrine of brotherhood and prepared- 
 ness for self-defense. As eaily as January, 1915, General Wood 
 had asked me to have a meeting to interest some of the men of 
 New York in his plans for the training-camps, which later 
 developed into the " Plattsburg idea." Many of the men who 
 in later days were patriotically ardent in their support of that. 
 Plattsburg idea spoke to me with amused indifference at the 
 end of that meeting in January, 1915, and asked me why I had 
 made such a point of their coming to it ! At the same time, Au- 
 gustus P. Gardner, in the House of Representatives, struggled 
 to arouse the coimtry from its lethargy. Gradually, however, 
 the force of the truth of the doctrine which was being preached 
 by the few percolated through the minds and hearts of many 
 of the American people, and at the beginning of the year 1916 
 one could feel a certain response to a higher ideal. In May, 
 1915, after the dastardly sinking of the Ludtania, the country 
 could have been easily led in the path of duty and high ideals. 
 The psychological moment was at hand when over a hundred 
 women and children, non-combatants, and over whom flew the 
 British flag, were hurled into the sea by the dastardly tactics 
 of Germany, — ^but this is a digression. In January, 1916, I 
 was chosen a delegate by the National Security League (an 
 organization started during the first year of the war to uphold 
 the policy of "Preparedness") to its first conference at Wash- 
 ington, and there I was asked to read a letter from my brother, 
 as he could not be present at the conference. He writes me 
 on January 22, 1916: "I was very much surprised and much 
 pleased when I saw in the papers that you had read my letter 
 to the Seciuity League." And again, two days later, came one 
 of his characteristic little notes (no one ever took such paias 
 to do and say loving and lovely things): "Darling Pussie," he 
 sa)^ this time: "Judge Nortoni and Bob Bacon have been out 
 here to Sagamore Hill separately, and both feel that your speech 
 was the feature of the Washington meeting. I wiU tell you all 
 that they say next Sunday when you come to us. I was really 
 
Whisperings of War 289 
 
 touched by their enthusiastic admiration of you and the speech. 
 My letter was apparently regarded only as the peg on which 
 the speech was hung. Ever yours, T. R." Needless to say, 
 my speech was only am insignificant addendum to his letter, but 
 he truly believed that his sister's speech was the more important 
 of the two things ! 
 
 In February he gladly lent me his name for the New York 
 advisory committee of "The Fatherless Children of France," 
 a society started by two magnificent Englishwomen, Miss Scho- 
 field and Miss Fell, for which I was privileged to form the New 
 York City committee. "Of course use my name," he says. I 
 do not remember ever asking him for it that he did not lend 
 it to me — that name which coimted more than almost any other 
 name of his time. 
 
 In March, 1916, he sailed with Mrs. Roosevelt for Trinidad, 
 and during his absence there began again the rumblings of de- 
 sire on the part of the people of the United States to have him 
 named as presidential candidate on the Republican ticket in 
 the forthcoming convention. A certain faction of the Progres- 
 sive party still clung to the hope that it could achieve its heart's 
 desire and name him on their ticket, but he had come more and 
 more to the conclusion that the Republican and the Progressive 
 parties must amalgamate in their choice of a nominee, for he 
 firmly believed that Mr. Wilson's policies had been of sinister 
 influence in the country, and he was convinced that nothing was 
 so important as to remove this, from his standpoint, imfortimate 
 influence. More and more he believed that our country should 
 bear a gallant part in the terrible adventure across the sea; more 
 and more he preached the doctrine that we should go to the 
 aid of the war-worn countries who sorely needed America's help. 
 
 I cannot refrain from inserting here a letter written by 
 Colonel Roosevelt to his dear friend and classmate Charles G. 
 Washburn, who had just published his able book called "Theo- 
 dore Roosevelt— The Logic of His Career." That book had 
 special interest because, although Mr. Washburn never wavered 
 
290 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 in his personal, loyal, and devoted attachment to Colonel Roose- 
 velt, his political convictions were such that he had not found 
 it possible to follow the Colonel into the Progressive parly. 
 The book in question, having been written during the period 
 between 1912 and 1916, the period when many people felt that 
 my brother was politically dead, was published, strange to say, 
 just as the pendulum swung back again, when the people real- 
 ized the need of strong leadership in the crisis of the Great War, 
 and Theodore Roosevelt seemed to many to be the man of the 
 hour. 
 
 "Dear Charlie:" writes Colonel Roosevelt, "We leave on 
 the loth of this month [for Trinidad]. I am much amused to 
 think that there is a momentary revival of my popularity or 
 notoriety or whatever you choose to call it, at the very time your 
 book is to appear, for when you started to write it, indeed, while 
 you were writing it, I was down at the very nadir; and only 
 a very devoted friendship — others would call it a very blind 
 friendship — ^would have made you write it. I, myself, thought 
 that it was not wise for you to publish it, that nobody would 
 take any interest in me, and that they would only laugh at you 
 for your loyalty and affection." 
 
 The following day he writes again: "Just after I had written 
 you, the book came. I am immensely pleased with it, and I am 
 very proud that my children and grandchildren are to have it. 
 ... Of course, old friend, you have said of me far more than 
 I deserve, but I am glad you said it." The book to which he 
 refers shows, perhaps, more than any other book written about 
 my brother, the accurate realization by the author that my 
 brother's attitude in January, 1912, when he took the step which 
 directly or indirectly brought about the formation of the Pro- 
 gressive party, was in no sense an erratic swerving from the 
 path upon which he had always walked, but, on the contrary, 
 a direct and logical justification of beliefs — and the actions with 
 which he always squared beliefs — held in his early manhood 
 and retained in his later years. 
 
Whisperings of War 291 
 
 On March 27, after his return from Trinidad, he writes: 
 
 "Well, here we are, back from our little trip along 'the path 
 to Nowhere.' [He refers here to some verses I had just pub- 
 lished under that title.] We did not get entirely out of the path 
 to Somewhere — thanks to the 'hurrying, struggling, and striv- 
 ing' of very kind people who insisted on entertaining us — ^but we 
 bad, at intervals, a number of hours on the path to Nowhere, 
 ilthough, in that latitude, there were no adders' tongues, and 
 the lilies were less in evidence than palms, bougainvillea,* scarlet 
 bibiscus and poinsettia in hedges, and rocks and flowering trees, 
 md little green cities of St. Mary's (I wish I had seen Mase- 
 ield) — and the trade wind tossing the fronds of the palms on 
 the white beaches. 
 
 "I loved your letter, and read and re-read every word of 
 it. I think as highly of 'Ordeal by Battle' as you do; did I show 
 y^ou the letter Oliver sent me with a copy of the first edition? 
 He has just sent me a copy of the second edition. I am very 
 »Iad you are taking a rest cure. You sorely needed it, but when 
 yaa leave Nonkanawha, can't you bring Cortissoz and the Cor- 
 bins out here for limch. I am very glad you like my book. My 
 ioul was in it. [He had just published "Fear God, and Take 
 STour Own Part."] . . . Well, I don't see much chance of our 
 icing what is right in politics. The trouble is that we have 
 :omplacently sagged back for fifty years while Germany has 
 surged forward and has forced her nearest competitors to some 
 dnd of forward movement in order to avoid death at her hands." 
 
 Shortly afterward, when in answer to his suggestion I wrote 
 lim that I would bring some of the friends he mentioned to 
 uncheon, he writes: "Three cheers — I shall expect you with the 
 IJortissoz, Corbins, and O'Hara." 
 
 That letter was written on April 2, 1916, and shortly after- 
 ward I motored those friends to Oyster Bay, and we had a pecu- 
 iafly delightful luncheon and afternoon, at which I was, as 
 isual, struck with the manner in which he adapted himself to the 
 nterest of the individual. Mr. John Myers O'Hara, an Amer- 
 
292 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 ican poet of classic and lyric quality, was shown a special poem 
 in which my brother felt that there was similarity between his 
 work and that of the author of the lines in question; Mr. Cor- 
 tissoz, whose delicious humor was a special delight to my brother, 
 found the Colonel not only sympathetic in those ways, but also 
 in the quality of his artistic thought; he adapted himself to each 
 in turn, and we aU motored away from that full and rich en- 
 vironment each more stimulated than before along the Une of 
 the special achievement to which he aspired. 
 
 On his return from Trinidad, he had been beset by questions 
 as to whether he woidd consent again to be the presidential 
 nominee. The Progressive party, after its severe defeat in vari- 
 ous States In 1914, still showed a grim desire to be at least a 
 strong factor in the nomination for a presidential candidate in 
 the coming election, and various combinations of individuals 
 were already in process of coalition in the happy thought that 
 Theodore Roosevelt nught be the combined nominee of both 
 Progressive and Republican forces. A certain number of such 
 citizens formed what they called The Roosevelt Non-partisan 
 League, and the secretary of that league, Guy Emerson by name, 
 wrote, in part, as follows to Colonel Roosevelt: 
 
 "Dear Colonel Roosevelt: — ^The Roosevelt Non-partisan 
 League is a movement inaugurated by citizens of all parties 
 who believe that Americanism is the great issue before the coun- 
 try today, and that you are the strongest available man as leader 
 imder that issue. You stated the platform in your Chicago 
 speech, which, in our opinion, is vital for the safety of the coun- 
 try during the four momentous years which lie ahead." 
 
 In answer to the above letter, my brother wrote: 
 
 "Because of your attitude, I earnestly approve your work. 
 The safety of this country depends upon our immediate, serious, 
 and vigorous efforts to square our words with our deeds, and 
 to secure our own national rehabilitation. The slumbering 
 patriotism of our people must be waked and translated into 
 concrete and efficient action. The awakening must be to a sense 
 
Whisperings of War 293 
 
 )f national and international duty and responsibility." After 
 »oing into greater length as to his personal principles and opin^ 
 ions, Mr. Roosevelt continues: "Our citizens must act as Amer- 
 icans, not as Americans with a prefix and qualifications. . . . 
 Cowardice in a race, as in an individual, is the impardonable 
 sin. The timid man who cannot fight, and the selfish, short- 
 sighted or foolish man who will not take the steps that will en- 
 able him to fight, stand on almost the same plane. Prepared- 
 Qcss deters the foe and maintains right by the show of ready 
 might without the use of violence. Peace, like Freedom, is not 
 a gift that tarries long in the hands of cowards, or of those too 
 feeble or too short-sighted to deserve it, and we ask to be given 
 the means to insure that honorable peace which alone is worth 
 having." 
 
 In answering from other sources the same suggestion — 
 namely, that he should take anew the leadership and be himself 
 the nominee against President Wilson — ^he boldly replied that 
 he doubted if it would be wise to name him, for if he should be 
 named, his followers would have to be in a "heroic mood." 
 
 On May 31 he announced: "I speak for universal service 
 based on universal training. Universal training and universal 
 service represent the only service and training a democracy 
 should accept. . . . Performance of international duty to 
 others means that in international affairs, in the commonwealth 
 of nations, we shall not only refrain from wronging the weak, 
 but, according to our capacity and as opportunity offers, we 
 should stand up for the weak when the weak are wronged by 
 the strong." 
 
 Every speech by Colonel Roosevelt had again become the 
 subject of national discussion, and as the Democratic policy 
 began to shape itself, each position taken by the Republican 
 party, as well as by the Progressive party, followed the lines laid 
 down in some speech made by Colonel Roosevelt. By this time 
 he had fuUy come to realize that, if it were possible to defeat 
 the policies which, from his standpoint, were lulling the coun- 
 
294 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 try into ignoble avoidance of its national and international duty, 
 such defeat could only be brought about by the amalgamation 
 of the Progressive and Republican parties, a result extremely 
 difficult to accomplish. 
 
 On April 14 he said: "The Tribune says of the approach- 
 ing convention, 'We are choosing which way the country shall 
 go iu the era that is now opening, just as our fathers chose the 
 nation's path in the days of i860.' This sentence should be in 
 the mind of every man who at Chicago next June takes part in 
 formulating the platform and naming the candidate. The men 
 at Chicago should act in the spirit of the men who stood behind 
 Abraham Lincoln- . . • There is one great issue on which the 
 fight is to be made if the highest service is to be rendered the 
 American people. That issue is that the American people must 
 find its own soul. National honor is a spiritual thing that can- 
 not be haggled over in terms of dollars. [He refers to the issue 
 of the tariff which had been prominently brought forward.] We 
 must stand not only for America First but for America first, 
 last, and all the time and without any second. . . . We can 
 be true to mankind at large only if we are true to ourselves. If 
 we are false to ourselves, we shall be fake to everything else. 
 We have a lofty ideal to serve and a great mission to accomplish 
 for the cause of Freedom and genuine democracy, and of justice 
 and fair dealing throughout the world. If we are weak and sloth- 
 ful and absorbed in mere money getting or vapid excitement, 
 we can neither serve these causes nor any others. We must 
 stand for national issues, for national discipline and for prepared- 
 ness — ^military, social and industrial — in order to keep the soul 
 of this nation. We stand for Peace, but only for the Peace that 
 comes as a right to the just man armed, and not for the Peace 
 which the coward purchases by abject submission to wrong. 
 The Peace of cowardice leads in the end to war after a record 
 of shame." 
 
 Even the Democratic newspaper, the New York Times, spoke 
 about that time of Colonel Roosevelt's capacity to rouse a true 
 
Whisperings of War 295 
 
 patriotism. It said: "The passion of his Americanism, his un- 
 srring instiQCt for the jugular vein, make him, in a good cause, an 
 unrivalled compeller of men. He has had his fill of glories, his 
 Qame is blown about the worid; — ^by preparing America against 
 wax, to unite America in patriotism, there are no nobler laurels." 
 And almost coincident with this unexpected appreciation of a 
 newspaper frequently the enemy of Colonel Roosevelt came 
 a letter from his former attorney-general, William H. Moody, 
 mitten to their mutual friend Mr. Washburn, the author of 
 the book which I have already mentioned. In the heat of the 
 controversy which was once more beginning to rage around the 
 figure of Theodore Roosevelt, it was interesting to read the cahn 
 and quiet words penned by the able man who had served as 
 attorney-general in my brother's cabinet, but, alas, laid low by 
 the painful illness which later proved the cause of his premature 
 death. "For five years," writes Mr. Moody, "I was in almost 
 daily association with him in the details of work for a common 
 purpose and in his relation to all sorts and conditions of men. 
 There are some parts of his work as President which I think no 
 one knew better than I did, and there are results of it which ought 
 to receive thorough study and be brought dearly to light. I 
 have here specially in mind, the effect of his acts and preach- 
 ments upon economic thought, and the development of the con- 
 stitutional theory of our government. If one contrasts the state 
 of opinion as to the proper relation between capital and labor, 
 and the proper attitude of government toward both as that 
 opinion ejdsted just before the war with Spain, and as it exists 
 today, one cannot fail to see that there has been an extraordinary 
 change. In this change, I believe he was the one great leader 
 in this country. . . . What was needed was a man with a great 
 genius for leadership, great courage, great intelligence, and the 
 highest purpose. That man came in Theodore Roosevelt. Per- 
 haps, many would scout the idea that he had been a guide in 
 constitutional interpretation. I remember the state of legal 
 thought and the attitude of the Supreme Court in the nineties 
 
296 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 toward what we called the new internationalism. I be- 
 lieve no one appreciates more clearly than I the great 
 change that has come to both since then. By the legislation 
 which he, Theodore Roosevelt, promoted against great odds, 
 there have been drawn from the Supreme Court decisions 
 which have declared that nationalism which is necessary to 
 our future national life." 
 
 This deliberate decision on the part of a man essentially 
 legal in mind throws interesting light upon my brother's actions 
 and attitudes, assailed as he was at the time for lack of the very 
 devotion to the Constitution for which Mr. Moody praises him. 
 About the same time, from Kansas City, on May 30, 1916, my 
 brother writes to me: "I hope you wiU like the speech I am about 
 to make here. I have scrupulously employed the 'we' in de- 
 scribing our governmental short-comings ! " 
 
 Unless I am mistaken, it was about that time that my brother 
 made a speech in Arkansas which — ^while the quotation which I 
 am about to give has little to do with the issue of the moment 
 — ^is so characteristic of his own fearlessness that I cannot pass 
 it over. 
 
 The strongest theory which I have evolved from the stydy 
 of the ups and downs of political life consists in the belief that 
 of all factors in permanent success (and permanent success 
 means a place in history), there is none so important as that 
 of moral as well as physical courage. More men have lost 
 their heart's desire because at the most crucial moment they 
 lacked the courage to barter that very desire for an honest 
 conviction than from any other cause. Theodore Roosevelt 
 believed that he could help not only his coimtry but the coun- 
 tries of the world were he nominated and elected in 1916, just 
 as he firmly believed that should Mr. Wilson be renominated 
 and re-elected to that position, America and the countries of 
 the world would be worse off rather than better off, and yet, 
 no matter before what audience he spoke, were it East, West, 
 North, or South, he spoke with the ardor of conviction, never 
 
Whisperings of War 297 
 
 for one moment withholding one belief, no matter how unpalat- 
 able it might be to the section of the country to which he was 
 gi^ong his message, did he feel that that belief should be clearly 
 demonstrated to that portion of the people. 
 
 At Little Rock, Ark., the Gtovemor of the State (I was told 
 of this incident by a Methodist minister who was present on the 
 occasion), during a speech in which he introduced Colonel Roose- 
 velt to his stupendous audience, said: "We have an unwritten 
 law in the Southland that when a vile black wretch commits 
 the immentionable crime, we hang him without judge or Jury." 
 As Theodore Roosevelt rose to make his address, he turned to 
 the governor and said: "Before I make my address to the people, 
 Governor, I want to say to you that when any man or set of 
 men take the law into their own hands, and inflict summary 
 punishment on the 'vile black wretch' of whom you speak they 
 place themselves upon the same base level as that same 'vile 
 black wretch.' " The stunned audience, silent for a moment, 
 burst into vociferous applause. But the governor made no 
 response to Colonel Roosevelt's interpellation. 
 
 It was about this same time that in response to a letter from 
 Mr. Guy Emerson, Mr. Thomas A. Edison wrote of Colonel 
 Roosevelt as follows: "My dear Sir. — ^Answering your question 
 as to my views of Colonel Roosevelt for our next President, I 
 would say that I believe he is absolutely the only man that 
 should be considered at this crucial period. He has more real 
 statesmanship, a better grasp of the most important needs of 
 this coimtry and greater executive ability to handle the big, 
 international problems that will arise at the close of the war 
 than all the other proposed candidates put together. His energy, 
 capacity, and vast experience in large affairs of state and nation 
 for many years, together with his great patriotism, and his in- 
 tense Americanism, and his great knowledge in all lines of human 
 oideavor, make him decidedly the most striking figure in Amer- 
 ican life." 
 
 Mr. Edison voiced the sentiment of hundreds of thousands 
 
2g8 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 of his fellow citizens, and as the time approached for the Re- 
 publican Convention of 1916, feeUngs of all kinds waxed al- 
 most as hot as in those thrilling days of 1912. In fact, in many 
 ways, there was even a greater excitement in the hearts of the 
 more valiant Americans, who believed that the time was already 
 ripe to make the world safe for democracy. These more valiant 
 Americans also believed that the man most fitted to aid in makt 
 ing the world thus safe was Theodore Roosevelt. On the other 
 hand, the stand-pat Republicans were still smarting from what 
 they considered, I think unjustly, his betrayal of them, and they 
 were not ready to enroll themselves imder his banner. The 
 Progressives, on the other hand, were equally opposed to any 
 compromise, and when the great convention met in Chicago, 
 peace between the contending factions seemed an illusive and 
 unattainable ideal, and so it proved. Those were days of tragic 
 excitement in the great auditorium, where sat, tied hand and 
 foot, what seemed to be a mercenary anny, so little did true pa- 
 triotism appear to actuate the delegates to that important congre- 
 gation of individuals. On the other hand, near by, in a smaller 
 hall, the almost fanatic enthusiasm for the much higher ideal 
 was also to make itself a party to the defeat of its own object, 
 although at that moment of honest ajad high-minded enthusiasm 
 it could hardly be blamed for any attitude bom of that enthu- 
 siasm. 
 
 Again the battle raged, and again the personality of Theo- 
 dore Roosevelt became the deciding factor. Conferees were 
 chosen by both the Republican Convention and the Progressive 
 Convention, but they could not find a common ground upon 
 which to agree, and that fateful week in early Jime ended 
 with the nomination of Charles E. Hughes by the Republican 
 Convention, and, against his wish, with the nomination of my 
 brother on the Progressive ticket. Perhaps there was never a 
 more dramatic moment, a moment of more heartfelt disappoint- 
 ment, than when the convention of the Progressive party re- 
 ceived the statement brought to it by John McGrath, secretary 
 
Whisperings of War 299 
 
 of Colonel Roosevelt, which ran as follows (I quote from a 
 contemporary newspaper in Chicago) : 
 
 "Announcement was made here this afternoon at 4:50 o'clock 
 that Roosevelt has refused to accept the Progressive nomination 
 for President. 
 
 "Colonel Roosevelt's statement was brought to the con- 
 vention by John McGrath, his secretary. It follows: 
 
 " 'To the Progressive Convention: I am very grateful for 
 the honor you confer upon me by nominating me as President. 
 I cannot accept it at this time. I do not know the attitude of 
 the candidate of the Republican party toward the vital ques- 
 tions of the day. Therefore, if you desire an immediate decision, 
 I must decline the nomination. But if you prefer it, I suggest 
 that my conditional refusal to run be placed in the hands of the 
 Progressive National Committee. 
 
 " 'If Mr. Hughes' statements, when he makes them, shall 
 satisfy the committee that it is for the interest of the country 
 that he be elected, they can act accordingly and treat my re- 
 fusal as definitely accepted. If they are not satisfied they can 
 so notify the Progressive party, and at the same time, they can 
 confer with me and then determine on whatever action we may 
 severally deem appropriate to meet the needs of the country,' 
 
 " 'I move,* said James R. Garfield, 'that the letter of Colo- 
 nel Roosevelt be received in the spirit in which it is meant, 
 and that it be referred to the National Committee, with power 
 to act thereon.' 
 
 "The motion was carried, and at 5 p. m. the Progressive 
 Convention, the liveliest in the history of politics, came to an 
 end with the pla)dng of the national air." 
 
 The closing scenes of the Republican Convention were as 
 cold and as unemotional as was the reverse in the body sitting 
 in the other hall, so close at hand. I, m3rself, went from one 
 spot to the other, torn with conflicting emotions. In the Re- 
 publican Convention there had been no enthusiasm whatsoever 
 for any candidate up to the moment when Senator Fall, of New 
 
300 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 Mexico, put the name of Theodore Roosevelt in nomination. 
 Then, and then only, did the thousands of people in that great 
 auditorium rise to their feet with one prolonged shout of ap- 
 proval. The delegates — and, alas ! it is the delegates to a conven- 
 tion, not the people, who apparently choose the men who are 
 to govern the people — ^were cold and unresponsive no matter 
 what name was put before them, and, were it possible, they were 
 even colder, even more imresponsive, when Theodore Roose- 
 velt's name was mentioned than they were at any other time; 
 but the masses — they were neither cold nor unresponsive ! How 
 they cheered as that beloved name was heard for the first time 
 in that Republican Convention! Over and over again the chair- 
 man tried to bring the convention to order. No blaring bands, 
 no stimulated marchings, were the cause of the great ovation. 
 It was actually and vividly the cry of those who wanted a leader 
 and wanted their leader that was heard in that great hall, but 
 there was no echo in the hearts of those who held the balance 
 of power in their hands. That evening there was printed in one 
 of the Chicago newspapers so exquisite a rhapsody, so loviag 
 a swan song, that I can but reproduce it. 
 
 AH! TEDDY DEAR 
 
 Ah, Teddy dear, and did ye hear the news that's goin' round? 
 
 They say you're gone from off the stage, that strange cold men, 
 whom we respect but love not, must be our meat for all the campaign 
 days to come. 
 
 Gray is the prospect; dull is the outlook. 
 
 We felt all the while that over in the Auditoriimi and the Coliseum 
 they were breaking to us the news of a death in the family. They 
 were merciful; they held it back; they did not let us have the shoci 
 of it all at once. They meant kindly. 
 
 But now that the news has come ihe kindness of friends can help 
 but little. Our hearts are broke! We need you and we want yoii 
 every minute. 
 
 Ah the fun of you and the glory of you ! 
 
 Where lies the American whose passion or whose imagination 
 you have not set a-tingling? Who else has meant the savor of life 
 
Whisperings of War 301 
 
 for us? Who but you has taken us and set our feet upon the high 
 places? 
 
 Before you came, all in pohtics was set and regular. Those who 
 were ordained to rule over us did so with that gravity with which 
 stupid grown-ups so oft repress the child. No one ever talked to us 
 as you did. They called us "voters" or "constituents" or such big 
 names as these. They never took us by the hand and laughed and 
 played with us as you did. 
 
 They never understood us. They could preach Sunday school 
 and arithmetic. But the good Lord never gave it to them to speak 
 to the heart. 
 
 And then you came ! 
 
 Dancing down the road you came with life and love and courage 
 and fun stickin' out all over you. How we loved you at the first sight ! 
 And how you loved us ! 
 
 Friends we were, tho' you were in the White House and we were 
 making mud pies. Friends we were together with nothing to come 
 between us. 
 
 Your love would let no harm come near us and we knew it. With 
 your courage you fought for us. With your life and your fun you 
 took us out of the drab grind. 
 
 You told us of the birds in the air and of the fishes in the sea. The 
 great tales of the old heroes, the sagas of the past, you spread before 
 our 'stonished eyes. You gave us new words— delightful words — 
 to play with; and jokes — delightful jokes — to make us laugh. 
 
 How we wanted you back when you went away ! But they stole 
 our right from us and they wouldn't let you come back. So we fol- 
 lowed you. Four miUion of us, in a fight the like of which we never 
 knew. Joy and reUgion were in it in equal measure. Hymns and 
 cleanness and color and battle all were jimibled in it. The good of 
 it is set forever into the life of the nation. 
 
 But the schoolmaster beat you, and the Great War came to crowd 
 you from our thoughts. We thought only of ourselves because you 
 were no longer there to make us think of our country. At last we 
 turned to you — ^when it was too late. 
 
 So now we are not to have you. We must go stumbUng on alone, 
 hoping that the man they've given us may show something of that 
 fire and strength upon which you taught us to rely. 
 
 It's our fault, not theirs. It's our fault, not yours. You warned 
 us that we must be ready to go thru to the end. We weren't. Fear 
 had come upon us, fear of ourselves. We were split up. We eyed 
 
302 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 each other with distrust. The spirit of your old sagas had gone from 
 us. 
 
 Now we must face it alone, unless you help us. Do not forsake 
 us to sulk in your tent. Make the sacrifice they demand, not for their 
 sake but for ours. Help them win with the cold, good man they've 
 chosen. Help that man to hold his courage and fight worthily for 
 the things which you have taught us — tho the real right to fight for 
 them was yours, not his. Don't let our councils be divided. Don't 
 let hotheaded friends force their personal claims upon you. 
 
 But whatever you do or whatever you don't do, be sure of one 
 thing — ^we shall never hold it against you. For all that is gone, you 
 can do no wrong in our sight. The memory of you shall never fade 
 from our hearts. 
 
 Ah, Teddy dear — we love you now and always.* 
 
 * From the Chicago Evening Post, June, 1916. The article was written by Julian 
 Mason, the gifted son of one who had been a hospitable host of Theodore Roose- 
 velt when, as a young man, he wrote "The Winning of the West." 
 
XVI 
 
 "DO rr NOW" 
 
 Sad America 
 
 Dreamed in the distance as a charmed thing 
 Till Roosevelt, like Roland, blew his horn, 
 v — ^John Jay Chapman. 
 
 One who rang true when traitor thoughts were rife. 
 One who led straight through all the years of strife. 
 
 — From Horace Mann School Record. 
 
 I WENT to Sagamore Hill the very moment that I returned 
 from Chicago after that exciting convention. In fact, I 
 took the first train possible to Oyster Bay. My heart was 
 aflame, for it seemed to me then, as it has seemed to me fre- 
 quently in such contests (nor does this refer solely to contests 
 in which my brother took part), that the will of the people had 
 been frustrated. 
 
 My brother was seated in the library when I arrived at Saga- 
 more Hill, and when I burst outj "Theodore — the people wanted 
 you. It seems terrible to me that they could not have you," 
 he answered, with a smile that had a subtle meaning in it: "Do 
 not say that; if they had wanted me hard enough, they could 
 have had me." By which he meant that after all, if enough 
 citizens in our great country would take seriously the duties 
 of citizenship, the delegates to our conventions would have to 
 do their will. From that moment, putting himself entirely aside, 
 his whole thought, his whole effort were given to the achieve- 
 ment of what he considered the vital need for his country; 
 namely, the election of the Republican candidate. Waiting 
 until Mr. Hughes had definitely stated his policy, Colonel Roose- 
 velt, upon that statement, immediately sent to the Progressive 
 
 303 
 
304 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 Convention, which met within a few weeks, a letter stating his 
 position as follows: 
 
 "Gentlemen: In accordance with the message I sent to the 
 National Progressive Convention as soon as I had received the 
 notification that it had nominated me for President, I now com- 
 mimicate to you my reasons for declining the honor which I so 
 deeply appreciate. . . . Before speaking of anything else, I 
 wish to express iny heartiest and most unstinted admiration 
 for the character and services of the men and women who made 
 up the National Progressive Convention in 1916. . . . They 
 represent the spirit which moved Abraham Lincoln and his polit- 
 ical associates during the decade preceding the close of the Civil 
 War. The platform put forth in 1912 was much the most im- 
 portant public document promulgated in this country since 
 the death of Abraham Lincoln. It represented the first effort, 
 on a large scale, to translate abstract formulas of economic aiid 
 social justice iato concrete American nationalism. , . . 
 
 "Events have shown us that the Progressive party in 1912 
 offered the only alternative to the triumph of the Democratic 
 party. , , . The results of the terrible world war of the past 
 two years have now made it evident to all who are willing to 
 see, that in this country there must be spiritual and industrial 
 preparedness, along the lines of efficient and loyal service to 
 the nation, and of practical application of the precept that 'each 
 man must be his brother's keeper.' Furthermore, it is no less 
 evident that this preparedness for the days of peace forms the 
 only sound basis for that iadispensable military preparedness 
 based on military universal training, and which finds expression 
 in universal obligatory service in time of war. Such universal 
 obligatory training and service are necessary complements of 
 imiversal suffrage and represent the realization of the true Amer- 
 ican, the democratic ideal in both peace and war. 
 
 "Sooner or later, the national principles championed by 
 the Progressives of 1912 must, in their general effect, be em- 
 bodied in the structure of our national existence. With all my 
 
"Do It Now" 305 
 
 heart, I shall continue to work for these great ideals, shoulder 
 to shoulder with the men and women, who, in 1912, championed 
 them. . . . The method however by which we are to show our 
 loyalty must be determined in each case by the actual event. 
 Our loyalty is to the fact, to the principle, to the ideal, and not 
 merely to the name, and least of aU, to the party name. The 
 Progressive movement has been given an incalculable impetus 
 by what the Progressive party has done. Our strongest party 
 organizations have accepted and enacted into law, or embodied 
 in their party platfonns many of our most important principles. 
 Yet it has become entirely evident that the people under exist- 
 ing conditions are not prepared to accept a new party. . . . 
 Under such circumstances, our duty is to do the best we can 
 and not to sulk because our leadership is rejected. — ^It is un- 
 patriotic to refuse to do the best possible, merely because the 
 people have not put us in a position to do what we regard as 
 tbe very best. ... In my judgment, the nomination of Mr. 
 Hughes meets the conditions set forth in the statement of the 
 Progressive National Committee, issued last January and in 
 my own statements. Under existing conditions, the nomina- 
 tion of a third ticket would, in my judgment, be merely a move 
 in the interest of the election of Mr. Wilson. I regard Mr. 
 Hughes as a man whose public record is a guarantee that he 
 will not merely stand for a program of clean-cut, straight prin- 
 ciples before election but will resolutely and in good faith put 
 them through if elected. It would be a grave detriment to the 
 country to re-elect Mr. Wilson. I shall, therefore, strongly sup- 
 port Mr. Hughes. Such being the case, it is vmnecessary to say 
 that I cannot accept the nomination on a third ticket. I do 
 not believe that there should be a third ticket. I believe that 
 when my feUow Progressives actually consider the question, 
 they will, for the most part, take this position. 
 
 " Jhey and I have but one purpose, — the purpose to serve 
 our common country. It is my deep conviction that at this 
 moment we can serve it only by supporting Mr. Hughes." 
 
3o6 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 From that moment, "squaring," as he always did, "convic- 
 tion with action," Theodore Roosevelt set his strong shoulder 
 to the political wheel which he hoped with all his heart would 
 put Charles E. Hughes into the White House. 
 
 In my brother's own "Autobiography" he says: "I have al- 
 ways had a horror of words that are not translated into deeds, 
 of speech that does not result in action; in other words, I believe 
 in realizable ideals and in realizing them; in preaching what 
 would be practicable and then practising it." 
 
 He put the same idea in somewhat different words in a speech 
 in that very campaign of 1916: "Of course, the vital thing 
 for the nation to remember is that while dreaming and talking 
 both have their uses, these uses must chiefly exist in seeing the 
 dream realized and the talking turned into action. . . . Ideals 
 that are so lofty as always to be unrealizable have a place, — 
 sometimes an exceedingly important place in the history of man- 
 kind — if the attempt, at least partially to realize them is made; 
 but, in the long run, what most helps forward the common run 
 of humanity in this work-a-day world, is the possession of realiz- 
 able ideals and the sincere attempt to realize them." 
 
 Never did my brother more earnestly fulfil the convictions 
 expressed in the above sentence than in his' campaign for the 
 election of Mr. Hughes. Never did he give himself more self- 
 lessly, and with more tireless zeal, than when he tried to put 
 one so lately a rival for the presidental nomination into the White 
 House, because of his strong belief that to do so would be for 
 the good of his beloved country. 
 
 On June 23, just before the meeting of the Progressive Con- 
 vention, he writes to me: "I should like to show you my letter 
 to the National Committee which will appear on Monday after- 
 noon. I will then, I trust, finish my active connections with 
 Politics." And again, in another letter on July 21, he says: 
 "For six years I have been, I believe, emphatically right, em- 
 phatically the servant of the best interests of the American 
 people; but just as emphatically ,^the American people have 
 
"Do It Now" 
 
 307 
 
 steadfly grown to think less and less of me, and more definitely 
 determined not to use me in any public position, and it is their 
 affair after all. Your Teddy [my son at the time was running 
 for the nomination for New York State Senator] may expe- 
 rience the same fate and may find that through no fault of his, — 
 in my case the fault may have been mine, — his talents may be 
 passed by." 
 
 It is interesting to note that although so frequently a justi- 
 fied prophet in national affairs, my brother's prophecies con- 
 cerning himself rarely came true. The above prophecy was 
 no etception to this rule, for during the years to come, the Re- 
 publican party was to turn once more to Theodore Roosevelt 
 as its greatest leader, and to pledge its support to him both in- 
 ferentially and actually in their great effort to make him. the 
 nominee for governor of New York State. In the campaign of 
 1918 the leaders of the Republican party turned to him as ahnost 
 one man, feeling as they did that his election again to that posi- 
 tion would positively secure him the election to the presidency 
 in 1920. 
 
 Perhaps the hardest thing for him to bear connected with 
 the political situation in 1916 was the keen disappointment of 
 those Progressives for whom he had such devoted affection 
 when he refused to run on the Progressive ticket as the candi- 
 date for President. He felt that in the hearts of many there 
 was, in spite of their personal devotion to him, a sense of dis- 
 illusion, and he tried with earnest effort to make them see the 
 point of, view which he was convinced was the right point of 
 view, which made him support the candidate of the Republican 
 party. 
 
 A Mrs. Nicholson, of Oregon, for whom he had a sincere re- 
 gard, having written to him on the subject, he answers on July 
 18, 1916: 
 
 "My dear Mrs. Nicholson: . . . You say you do not un- 
 derstand 'Why we men make such a fetich of parties.' I can- 
 not understand how you include me with the men who do so. 
 
3o8 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 Four years ago I declined to make a fetich of the Republican 
 party, when to do so meant dishonor to the nation, and this 
 year I declined to make a fetich of the Progressive party when 
 to do so meant dishonor to honor. I agree with you that issues 
 and men are the thingsthat count. A party is good only as 
 a means to an end. Nevertheless, we have to face the fact that 
 has been made strikingly evident during the past four years that 
 with ninety per cent of our country-men the party name of it- 
 self has a certain fetichistic power, and we would be very foolish 
 if we did not take this into account in endeavoring to work for 
 good results. Moreover, it is unfortxmately true that the dead 
 hand of a party sometimes paralyzes its living members. The 
 ancestral principles of the Democratic party are so bad it seems 
 to be entirely impossible for it to be useful to the country ex- 
 cept in spasms. 
 
 "I believe Mr. Hughes to be honest and to have the good 
 of his country at heart." 
 
 He was not able to visit us in our coxmtry home on the Mo- 
 hawk Hills, as we had hoped he might possibly do, during that 
 simimer, but on October 5 he writes to me: "I fear I shall be 
 West on the 25th, otherwise I should jump at the chance to lunch 
 with you and Fanny at the Colony Club. Can 1 accept for the 
 first subsequent day when I find that you and she are available? 
 I am now being worked to the limit by the Hughes people who 
 are the very people who four months ago were explaining that 
 I had *no strength.' ... I most earnestly desire to win; I, 
 above all things, do not wish to sulk, and therefore, from how 
 on my time is to be at the disposal of the National Committee. 
 Of course, Teddy's nomination meant far more to me personally 
 than anything else in this campaign. I look forward eagerly 
 to seeing you. Do look at my Metropolitan Magazine article 
 which is just out. I think you will like the literary style!" The 
 "literary style" was combined with a certain amount of plain 
 talk in this particular instance ! 
 
 On October 12 Colonel Roosevelt, taking the exploits of 
 
Do It Now" 
 
 309 
 
 the German submarine U-boat 53 off the shores of America 
 as a text, launched an urgent protest. Colonel Roosevelt de- 
 clared that the conduct of the war had led to a "complete break- 
 down of the code of international rights." The man who as 
 long ago as in his inauguration speech in March, 1905, inveighed 
 against the "peace of the coward," was stirred to red-blooded 
 indignation at the Democratic slogan of that campaign of 1916, 
 which laid all the stress on "He kept us out of war," a sentence 
 which Colonel Roosevelt described as "utterly misleading." 
 
 He said: 
 
 " Now that the war has been carried to our very shores, there 
 is not an American who does not realize the awful tragedy of 
 our indifference and our inaction. Nine-tenths of wisdom is 
 being wise in time. By taking the right step at the right time, 
 America's influence and leadership might have been made a 
 stabilizing force. 
 
 "In actual reality, war has been creeping nearer and nearer 
 until it stares at us from just beyond our three-mile limit, and 
 we face it without policy, plan, purpose, or preparation. No 
 sane man can to-day be so blind as to believe President Wilson's 
 original statement that the war was no concern of oiirs. Every 
 thinking man must realize the utter futility of a statesmanship 
 without plan or policy imtil such facts as these now stare us in 
 the face." 
 
 Such were the virile statements used many times during the 
 following campaign. One of the most interesting human docu- 
 ments connected with Theodore Roosevelt during this period was 
 written by a young reporter, Edwin N. Lewis, in private letters 
 to his own family, from the special train upon which Theodore 
 Roosevelt travelled for one of the most active ten days of his 
 active life, during which he urged the American people to ac- 
 cept the Republican candidate. With Mr. Lewis's permission, 
 I am quoting from these interesting letters, written by the kind 
 of young American for whom my brother had the warmest and 
 most friendly feeling, the kind of young American whose family 
 
3IO My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 life had been such that he wished to share with his family 
 whatever was of interest in his life. 
 
 The first letter, dated October 17, 1916, begins: 
 "Just getting into Rochester — 7 p. u. — ^Dear Ma:— The 
 big tour is on. I was presented to Colonel Roosevelt by his secre- 
 tary before the train pulled out. Since there are only three corre- 
 spondents in the party, he insists that we eat in his private car 
 with him. The trip is going to be a. little family party with the 
 Colonel a sort of jovial master of ceremonies. He permits me, 
 a stranger, to take part in the conversation with the group. In 
 fact, I feel, now, after my experiences at luncheon, that I have 
 known him a long while. He is just as remarkable, energetic, 
 mentally alert and forcible as his chroniclers picture him. I 
 could entertain you and pa for an evening with the stories he 
 told this noon, and dinner is coming in a half hour ! Wonderful 
 meals too, — ^with the New York Central chefs straining every 
 effort to give Theodore Roosevelt something fine to eat. Cronin 
 of The Sun and Yoder of the United Press are the only other 
 newspaper men along. . . . Tomorrow we face a busy day. 
 From Cincinnati, we turn down through a mountain section 
 of Kentucky which has never seen a President, an ex-President 
 or a Presidential candidate. Mountaineers will drive from miles 
 around to see the man they have worshipped for years. The 
 Colonel makes thirteen stops between Falmouth and Louis- 
 ville, I realize how you are thinking of me on this trip. It helps 
 me to make good." 
 
 Leaving Louisville, Ky., October 18, 11 p. M.: 
 "This has been a long day with hundreds of miles travelled 
 by our special train through the valleys of Kentucky in a steady 
 run. I wrote about 2000 words but do not imagine that all of 
 it will get in the first edition which you will see in New Eng- 
 land. Tonight, "T. R." pulled one of his familiar stunts with 
 his changing the whole introduction to his speech at one-half 
 hour's notice. He spoke for half an hour on the Adamson 
 law and what he would have done to prevent the threatened 
 
"Do It Now" 311 
 
 railroad strikes. I had to shoot in 500 words additional just 
 as we pulled out. It was written in long hand while the Colonel 
 delivered the tail end of his talk. Louisville went wild over him. 
 As we climbed down in the mud and rain, red fire burned, rockets 
 glared in the mist, and the factory whistles screeched their wel- 
 come. As the New York correspondents travelling with the 
 Colonel, we are members of his personal body-guard. You can 
 imagine how seriously we take the job, when you remember 
 that Mr. Roosevelt was shot and severely wounded when speak- 
 ing at Milwaukee a few years ago; a man of such intense affec- 
 tions and such stirring convictions always has venomous enemies. 
 For this reason, when we take the Colonel through a crowd as 
 we did tonight, we completely surround him and use our elbows 
 and fists if need be to protect him. If any harm should come 
 to him, we would all be crushed. Tonight, however, he was 
 only liable to be hurt by the overwhelming love of Louisville 
 citizens. . . . Our relations with him could not be more cordial 
 and democratic. This noon Colonel Roosevelt was terribly 
 excited because Cronin and I did not get luncheon with him 
 owing to the prevalence of Kentucky politicians who swarmed 
 on the train like rats caught in a flood. He swore that he would 
 eat nothing tonight until we had been fed. Tonight at 7 p. m. 
 the porter came into my compartment and announced that Mr. 
 Roosevelt was waiting diimer for Mr. Lewis and Mr. Cronin. 
 He still apologized although we protested that the chef had filled 
 our most prominent cavity successfully with sandwiches and 
 coffee at 3 p. M. This gives you just one little glimpse of this 
 remarkable man. I could write all night along this line. Mind 
 you, he is taking all these precautions not for old friends but 
 for two newspaper men whom he has never seen before and whose 
 articles he has never read. 
 
 "Tonight as he left the hall, I jumped around to his right 
 side, grabbed him by the arm and offered to act as a bumper 
 against his admirers who fought like bears to shake his hand. 
 He still remains the great idol of the American people. He 
 
312 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 smiled at me, drew his arm through mine and we swayed, pushed, 
 and shoved our way out. 
 
 "The Colonel is a little older than he used to be. I think 
 he will be fifty-eight the day we return to New York, At times, 
 in the thick of the excitement, an expression of fatigue flashes 
 across his features. There is a touch of sadness too, I believe, 
 in his face, as he looks out over these crowds of people who have 
 come for miles just to see him. He is not a candidate for Presi- 
 dent, thanks to the Chicago Convention, — but in spite of all 
 these things which would discourage an ordinary man, he is 
 travelliag four thousand miles to wia the election. ... If the 
 Colonel likes a person, he loves them with gigantic affection. 
 His favorite character in literature is Great Heart from 'Pil- 
 grim's Progress.' 
 
 "We fought our way into the hall tonight after passing 
 through miles of streets lined with black and white people, stand- 
 ing patiently ia the rain just to see the Colonel go by. We had 
 a difficult time getting him out by the rear entrance for the larger 
 crowd which could not get inside insisted on a brief speech from 
 a bandstand outside. Then, we hustled back through the rain 
 to the railroad station, climbed on the train and now we are 
 approaching the Indiana border en route to Arizona through 
 Missouri and Kansas. We are to take our meals with the Colonel 
 three times a day. He promises that this rule will be lived up 
 to. He relies on us to read the daily newspapers, giving him 
 material. He never reads the papers as near as I can make out. 
 We look forward to these next days with great pleasure. We 
 are to tour the plains and run almost to the rim of the Grand 
 Canyon. The Colonel expects to present us to some of the old 
 horse thieves and other respectable men with whom he asso- 
 ciated in his cow-punching days !" 
 
 October 21, 1916, near Phoenix: 
 
 "The trip has been a wonderful experience for me in every 
 way. Think of chatting with the Colonel three times a day at 
 meals, — ^Mr. Roosevelt personally explaining the significance 
 
"Do It Now" 313 
 
 of every adobe, cactus, pinyon tree, or prairie dog! When we 
 go by a piece of desert, scorching in the white heat of sun-baked 
 alcali, T. R. recalls an experience thirty years ago, when he lost 
 some cattle that had sunk in quicksand in a dry river channel. 
 He has taken us into his absolute confidence. He tells us stories 
 and gives us opinions which if put on the telegraph would con- 
 vulse the country. We are all convinced that not only is he the 
 greatest American citizen, but also the greatest American hu- 
 morist. His sense of humor is as marvelous as his physical and 
 mental energy. To show you how thoughtful the Colonel is, 
 . . . listen to this: — two of his friends climbed aboard at Pres- 
 cott early this morning when I was shaving. That made two 
 extra for breakfast, so Cronin and I insisted upon waiting for 
 a second table. As we munched our toast and looked out at 
 the giant cacti swiftly flowing by our window, who should come 
 back to the table but T. R. 'Are you boys getting enough to ' 
 eat?' he asked, sitting down. 'I am so sorry that this incon- 
 venience occurred. If my visitors had not been old friends who 
 had not breakfasted, I should never have permitted it.' How 
 can a fellow help admiring a fellow like that, especially when he 
 is aji ex-President and one of the most famous characters in the ' 
 world today?" 
 
 October 24, near Albuquerque: 
 
 ". . , It was nearly 100 sitting in the afternoon sun in front 
 of the speaking stand today. My cloth touring hat was too hot 
 for the occasion, but without it I imagine I would have keeled 
 over from prostration or gradually melted away under the press- 
 stand. When the Colonel got through, his face was dripping. 
 He delivered a corking talk. There was no heckling because 
 he had been tipped off to answer at the beginning, the question 
 as to what he would have done in Mexico had he been Presi- 
 dent. After he got into his proper speech, and he read every 
 word of it, there were no interruptions except cheers of approval. 
 My confidential opinion is, however, that he realizes that while 
 these western crowds are for him personally, and cheer when- 
 
314 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 ever he shows his familiar face, they do not understand,— they 
 are not in down-right serious accord with, the doctrine he 
 preaches. The Republicans are up against a hopeless situa- 
 tion. . . . The Roosevelt plan for compulsory military service, 
 and preparedness are not practical this year because they have 
 not wide-spread public support. The crowds come to hear 
 Roosevelt. . . . The crowds in this coimtry are too busy making 
 money and planning how to make that money make some more, 
 to realize the deep-rooted appeal of Theodore Roosevelt to their 
 Americanism. Perhaps, through this hasty review of my im- 
 pressions in Arizona, you dear folks at home can entet into this 
 opportunity with me. I will have an interesting yam to spin 
 when I return to vote." 
 
 October 25, leaving Denver for Chicago: 
 
 "We are swinging down from the lofty Denver plateau sur- 
 rounded with white-topped mountain peaks, through the sugar- 
 beet and cattle farms to Nebraska. We shall wake up in Chi- 
 cago tomorrow morning on the last leg of our tour. Colonel 
 Roosevelt makes two or three speeches in Chicago and then 
 pulls out for New York. Everything was rush — rush — rush in 
 Denver. . . . We came by Colorado Springs and Pike's Peak 
 at night but were all up, dressed and shaved when the enthu- 
 siastic Denverites descended on the Colonel with bands, bombs, 
 Ijandannas, and general noise. Here was an old-fashioned, wild 
 demonstration for the ex-President. He had not been in Denver 
 for nearly six years. At one big meeting of 8000 women 
 he showed them the fallacy of Mr. Wilson's argument, 'I have 
 kept you out of war.' He told them why he was for suffrage. 
 He had them with him from the start. All of this stuff was ex- 
 temporaneous and I had to write 1000 words on it. Tlie night 
 meeting was a near-riot. We had a stiff fight to get the Colonel 
 out of the auditorium which is one of the largest halls in the 
 country. They have an excellent arrangement for getting the 
 speakers in-^wide doors open like a circuS and the automobile 
 with the Colonel and ourselves was driven close to the speaker's 
 
"Do It Now" 315 
 
 platfonn. Such a bedlam of noise I never heard. On the plat- 
 form were the women speakers from the women's special train. 
 When they tried to speak, however, the crowd hooted them down 
 with cries of 'We want Teddy— Give us Teddy and Sit down,' 
 etc, Then as soon as he began to speak, the Wilson hecklers 
 started shouting, 'Hurrah for Wilson' — it was all very exciting. 
 . . . 'Let me shake hands with the greatest President since 
 Lincohi,' one old chap bawled, while I kept my fist under his 
 chin as we formed a ring around the Colonel, and half-shoved 
 and half-carried him to his automobile. The Colonel reached 
 his hand around back of his neck and grasped the old man's 
 finger-tips, whereupon he subsided and fell back to tell his chil- 
 dren that this had been the greatest moment in his life. 
 
 "There is no antagonism to the Colonel out here. Even 
 the Wilson supporters love Roosevelt. We have to protect him 
 against his friends, however. . . . There is a chap on the train 
 now, an old friend of the Colonel who has been collecting pic- 
 tures along the Mexican border. Some of the atrocities, partic- 
 ularly the burning of bodies and the execution of soldiers are 
 the most gruesome sights I have ever seen. The Colonel men- 
 tions them when he ridicules the cry that 'Wilson has kept peace 
 in Mexico.' He told me today that some day next week he will 
 entertain the four of us fellows at Oyster Bay at limcheon in 
 his home. He wants to show us the trophies room, filled with 
 relics from his African explorations and his early western life. 
 That will be a compliment to us as newspaper men on this trip." 
 
 Friday, October 27, Pullman private car leaving Buffalo. 
 
 "We have just turned our watches ahead an hour, making 
 it 10:15, and signif3Tng that we are back in the home zone of 
 eastern time. The trip is ahnost over. The rush and hustle 
 of the trip> and the speed with which we have had to write and 
 file our stories, make it seem a moving picture hodge-podge, 
 now that it is over. Take yesterday, for instance,— we pulled 
 into .Chicago at 2 p. m. and were greeted by one of the widest 
 street demonstrations I have ever seen. The Colonel never 
 
3i6 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 sat down in his seat from the time he left the station until we 
 arrived at the Congress Hotel. He was up waving his wide- 
 brimmed black hat and bowing to the cheering mob. Every 
 minute there was a flash, 'some miscreant photographer,' as 
 T. R. calls them, had taken a bang at the Colonel. We had 
 less than an hour to check our baggage in our rooms, wash up, 
 arrange with the Western Union for filing stories, and get ready 
 to accompany the Colonel to the Auditorium Theatre across 
 the street. 
 
 "Thanks to the excellent police arrangements, we were able 
 to walk uimiolested through a himian line of admirers who had 
 been pushed into place by the moimted police. At 8 p. m. we 
 called to interview the Colonel just before he left for the stock- 
 yards. After the Women's meeting Cronin and I had to run 
 for the Western Union to get a start on our story. We taxi- 
 cabbed back to the Congress Hotel, omitted dinner, and joined 
 the Roosevelt auto procession to the stock-yards pavilion which 
 is six miles out of Chicago. How those cars did shoot through 
 the wide Chicago streets, preceded by a motor squad police 
 patrol vsith the mufflers on the machines wide open. It seemed 
 more like going to a fire than riding to a political meeting. 
 
 "In the mtlie of getting the Colonel into the haU, I got sepa- 
 rated from the party and foimd myself confronted with six 
 wooden-headed Chicago cops who refused to recognize the of- 
 ficial ticket of admission, distributed to members of the Roose- 
 velt party. I got by one of them by telling him that I had been 
 all the way to Arizona with the Colonel. 'Well, I'll be damned' 
 he ejaculated. 'If you've been in Arizona, there is no reason in 
 h — why you can't get in here.' After I got inside, however, 
 there were more difficulties. The cops and ushers refused to 
 let me up on the platform with the Colonel and the other corre- 
 spondents. While I was fighting, pushing, and kicking around 
 in the crowd, I heard someone shout down from above, 'We 
 want Mr. Lewis up here right away. Make way for Mr. Lewis.' 
 I looked up and saw that James R. Garfield, son of President 
 
"Do It Now" 317 
 
 Sarfield, himself former Secretary of the Interior, had come to 
 ny rescue. Mr. Garfield had been travelling with us for two 
 lays, and with his assistance the rest was easy. I was almost 
 :arried reverently to the platform and placed on a perfectly 
 »ood chair where I could see everything. 
 
 "By the way, — Mr. Garfield, next to the Colonel, is the most 
 likeable, lovable man I met on this trip. He has a face that 
 you like to watch silently, and contemplate, because you know 
 bow fine and corking he must be. I never heard such a long 
 demonstration as the one which greeted the Colonel as he stepped 
 out before 18,000 men and women, each of whom seemed to 
 have a small flag. It began at three minutes before eight and 
 it stopped at thirty-two minutes past eight. In that long in- 
 terim you could hear nothing but one continuous roar of cheer- 
 mg shouts and stamping feet. There was nothing articulate, 
 no special cries distinguishable from others, just one blast as 
 though some Titan engineer had tied down the heavy chain 
 which released the whistle of ico,coo voice power. All efforts 
 to stop it were futile. There was nothing to do but to let it run 
 down. The band played 'Gary Owen' and the 'Star Spangled 
 Banner' and other selections, — ^T. R. beating time with a large 
 replica of a 'Big Stick' which had been handed to him. Mean- 
 while, in this bedlam, Cronin and I were writing new 'leads' to 
 our story on pads in our laps. A Western Union man was sneak- 
 ing iip to the platform every ten minutes to get copy which was 
 placed on wires on the pavilion. By writing this way, we got 
 the story into New York before eleven o'clock, that is, when 
 the meeting was over, by ten o'clock in Chicago; then there 
 was the rapid shooting ride back to the hotel, a little grub and 
 bath, and to bed. I was tired. 
 
 "We left Chicago at 6.25 a. m., the Colonel's car being 
 hitched behind a regular train on the New York Central. The 
 Colonel is fifty-eight years old today, as you will know, doubt- 
 less, before this letter reaches New Britain. I discovered the 
 fstct in reading his autobiography. He has been so fine to all 
 
31 8 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 of us; he has gone out of his way to make sure that we were 
 treated like members of his own family; he has entertained us, 
 as correspondents never were entertaioed; because what can 
 excel the most interesting American, if not the greatest, telling 
 anecdotes by the dozen of one of the most interesting, democratic; 
 dynamic, forcible careers in American History? A thought that 
 we ought to give him something to remember us by sprang 
 simultaneously into the minds of Yoder and myself. . . . Our 
 suggestions included a foimtain-pen, pocket knife, or silver pen- 
 cil — something that he could use. We elected Yoder to scout 
 through the Colonel's pocket. He went out on the observa- 
 tion platform and casually asked the Colonel if he could borrow 
 his knife. 'Yes — ^Yoder,' T. R. said, digging into his pocket, 'but 
 I am ashamed of it. The blades are rusty, the handle is cracked. 
 By George, I must get a new one.' We decided after hearing 
 Yoder's report, that a knife was the thing. A handsome, little, 
 flat, gold knife was picked out and the presentation came at 
 luncheon today. Odell, in his solemn way, said that I had found 
 out that he was born on October 27th. 'Now, Colonel, you have 
 been telling us of many desperate characters you met in the 
 Southwest. . . . We decided, therefore, that you should have 
 a weapon. We have taken counsel and have determined to give 
 you a little reminder of our pleasure on this trip. . . .' The 
 Colonel took the little box, pulled forth the knife, and smiling 
 a more than Roosevelt smile, 'By George, isn't that fine!' he 
 exclaimed. 'I have never had a good pocket knife in all my life, 
 and I was going to buy one tomorrow. I shall always cherish 
 this gift, — I shall always carry it with me,' whereupon he at- 
 tached it to the chain with his Phi Beta Kappa key and his little 
 pencil; — 'and I want to say that I have enjoyed immensely 
 having you with me, and the trip has been a pleasure to me 
 mainly because you young men have been such good company.' 
 I am too old at the political game to enjoy making speeches. 
 I do not like it, but we have had a btiUy good time on this tour, 
 and we have met a lot of my old friends, — and now, gentlemen. 
 
"Do It Now" 319 
 
 emember iJbis, if Mr. Hughes is elected on November 7 th, I 
 ihall never be seen in politics again. I am through.' I felt 
 ■ather sorry to hear the Colonel say this. He is so energetic and 
 ;ourageous, so full of the fighting spirit that we need to tone up 
 he national affairs, that it seems a pity to contemplate his retire- 
 nent before he attains 60. Of course, he will write his views for 
 the benefit of the reading public, but if he follows his inclination, 
 lie wiU become a quiet figure in the background, leaving 
 jrounger men to carry through the ideas he created. We do not 
 believe that the American people, however, will ever permit him 
 to retire. Just as sure as Wilson is re-elected, there will be a 
 demand for Theodore Roosevelt in 1920. He knows it and he 
 is trying to start the talk now through us to show that it is the 
 last thing on earth he cares to do. He would, I think, have liked 
 to run this year; he would have liked to grapple with the 
 problems which will arise after the war is over, but he took his 
 licking at the hands of the old-line Republicans, and he really 
 wants to see their candidate elected." 
 
 On my brother's return from this trip, so graphically deT 
 scribed by the young and able correspondent whose prophecy 
 that America would not let Theodore Roosevelt retire into ob- 
 scurity was so soon to come true, he continued, up to the eve- 
 ning of the election, to hammer bis opinions in strong, virile sen- 
 tences into the minds of the audiences before whom he spoke. 
 I was present in the Brookl}^! Theatre, where the crowd was so 
 great that one of the newspapers reported the next day: 
 
 "Say what you will, — ^there is no otier one man in this coun- 
 try that can draw as large a crowd as Theodore Roosevelt. He 
 is always an interesting talker as well as an interesting personal- 
 ity. He is not running for any office this Fall, though to hear 
 some of the other speakers and to read some of the other news- 
 papers, one might be pardoned for thinking that he was run- 
 ning for all of them," 
 
 It was at that great meeting in Brooklyn that he referred 
 to a speech made a few days before by President Wilson in Cin- 
 
320 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 dnnati. In the Cincmnati speech Mr. Wilson had made the 
 remark "that it would never be right for America to remain out 
 of another vrsLT." 
 
 Colonel Roosevelt, after ringing the changes on the fact that 
 what would be necessary in the future was in this case just as 
 necessary in the present, ended with a stirring exhortation and 
 the emphatic words: "Do it now, Mr. President." 
 
 In spite of Colonel Roosevelt's strong plea that we should 
 take our stand shoulder to shoulder on the side of the Allies in 
 the great cause for which they were fighting, it must not be 
 thought for one moment that Theodore Roosevelt put inter- 
 nationalism above nationalism. All through the exciting cam- 
 paign of 1916, he laid the greatest emphasis upon true Amer- 
 icanism. At Lewiston, Maine, in August, 1916, he said: "I 
 demand as a matter of right that every citizen voting this year 
 shall consider the question at issue, from the standpoint of Amer- 
 ica and not from the standpoint of any other nation. . . . The 
 policy of the United States must be shaped to a view of two 
 conditions only. First — with a view of the honor and interest 
 of the United States, and second — with a view to the interest 
 of the world as a whole. It is, therefore, our high and solemn 
 duty, both to prepare our own strength so as to guarantee our 
 own safety, and also to treat every foreign nation in every given 
 crisis as its conduct in that crisis demands. . . . Americanism 
 is a matter of the spirit, of the soul, of the mind; not of birth- 
 place or creed. We care nothing as to where any man was born 
 or as to the land from which his forefathers came, so long as 
 he is whole-heartedly and in good faith an American and nothing 
 else. . . . The policies of Americanism and preparedness taken 
 together mean applied patriotism. Our first duty as citizens 
 of the nation is owed to the United States, but if we are true 
 to our principles, we must also thmk of serving the interests of 
 mankind at large. In addition to serving our own coimtry, we 
 must ishape the policy of our country so as to secure the cause 
 of inLemational right, righteousness, fair play and hiunanity. 
 
"Do It Now" 321 
 
 Our first duty is to protect our own rights; our second, to stand 
 up for the rights of others." 
 
 The above quotation seems to me to answer indisputably 
 the mistaken aflinnation that "America First" could ever be 
 a sel&sh slogan. 
 
 On October 24, 1916, a letter had been sent, directed to "The 
 Honorable Theodore Roosevelt, en route, Denver, Colorado." 
 This missive was received on the special train from which young 
 Edwin Lewis had just written to his family the stirring letters 
 which I have quoted above. It is an interesting fact that the 
 letter which I am about to give was signed by men the ma- 
 jority of whom had not followed Theodore Roosevelt on his 
 great crusade for a more progressive spirit in American politics. 
 Some of them had agreed with him in 1912, but the majority 
 had felt it their duty to remain inside of the political party to 
 which they had given their earlier faith. Now, in the moment 
 of the great crisis of our nation, these very men turned for leader- 
 ship to the man whom they realized was in truth the "noblest 
 Roman of them all." The communication ran as follows: 
 
 "It is our conviction that no other Presidential campaign 
 in the history of the nation ever presented graver issues or more 
 far-reaching problems than does this. Not only is the domestic 
 welfare of the nation profoundly to be affected by the result, 
 but the honor and the very safety of the Republic are at stake. 
 ... In this momentous hour, the vital need is for such a pres- 
 entation of the issues as will arrest the widest attention and 
 carry the clearest message to the public mind, and this task we 
 commend to your hands. No living American has a greater 
 audience. You have done memorable service to your country 
 in awakening it to a sense of its perils and obligations and you 
 have revealed an unselfish patriotism that makes your voice 
 singularly potent in councils and inspiration. Will you not lend 
 it to the cause once more by addressing the people of the nation 
 from a vantage ground of a great mass meeting in the metrop- 
 olis? Under these drcimastances, a message from Theodore 
 
322 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 Roosevelt on America's crisis would ring from coast to coast. 
 . . . The undersigned suggest Cooper Union as the place. . . ." 
 
 The signatures included many of the most distinguished 
 citizens of the various States of America. My brother accepted 
 this call to duty, although he had hoped to speak, but little after 
 his exhausting campaign in the West. I regret to say that I 
 was not present at that meeting, at which, from what I have 
 heard, he spoke with a conviction and a spiritual intensity rare 
 even in him. The speech was called "The Soul of the Nation." 
 
 With burning words Theodore Roosevelt tried to arouse 
 the nation's soul; with phrases hot from a heart on fire he por- 
 trayed the place we should take by the side of the countries who 
 were fighting for the hope of the world, but the ears of the people 
 were closed to all but the words that we had been kept "out 
 of war." The day of the Lord was not yet at hand. 
 
XVII. 
 
 WAR 
 
 Thou gavest to party strife the epic notej 
 And to debate the thunder of the Lord; 
 To meanest issues fire of the Most High. 
 Hence eyes that ne'er beheld thee now are dim. 
 And alien men on alien shores lament. 
 
 — ^Stephen Phillips on Gladstone. 
 
 ELECTION DAY, 1916, dawned with the apparent success 
 of the Republican party at the polls, but it eventually 
 proved that the slogan, "He kept us out of war," had 
 had its way, and that the Democrats were returned to power. 
 
 Needless to say, the disappointment both to the followers 
 of Charles E. Hughes and of Theodore Roosevelt was keen be- 
 yond words. My brother, however, following his usual phi- 
 losophy, set himself to work harder than ever to arouse his coun- 
 trymen to the true appreciation of the fact that, with Europe 
 aflame, America could hardly long remain out of the conflagra- 
 tion. 
 
 During the following winter, however, in spite of the great 
 cloud that hung over the whole world, in spite of the intimate 
 knowledge that we all shared that neither would we nor could we 
 avoid the horror that was to come, occasionally there would be 
 brief moments of old-time gaiety in our family life, little intervals 
 of happy companionship, oases in the desert of an apprehension 
 that was in itself prophetic. I remember saying to my brother 
 one day: "Theodore, you know that I belong to the Poetry So- 
 ciety of America, and a great many of its members wish to meet 
 you. I have really been very considerate of you, and although 
 this wish has been frequently expressed for some years in the 
 
 323 
 
324 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 society, I have spared you heretofore, but the moment has 
 come !" "Must I meet the poets, Pussie?" he said laughingly 
 and rather deprecatingly. "Yes," I replied firmly. "The poets 
 have their rights quite as much as the politicians, and the time 
 for the poets is at hand." "All right — name your day," he an- 
 swered, and so a day was named, and I invited a number of my 
 friends amongst the poets to take tea with me on a certain after- 
 noon to meet Colonel Roosevelt. I remember I asked him to 
 try to come from his office early enough for me to jog his memory 
 about some of the work of my various poet friends, but a large 
 number of verse writers had already gathered in my sitting- 
 room before he arrived. I placed him by my side and asked a 
 friend to bring up my various guests so that I might introduce 
 them to him. I remember the care with which I tried to connect 
 the name of the person whom I introduced with some one of 
 his or her writings, and I also remember the surprise with which 
 I realized how unnecessary was all such effort on my part, for, as 
 I would say, "Theodore, this is Mr. So-and-So, who wrote such 
 and such," he would rapidly respond, "But you need not tell me 
 that. I remember that poem very well, indeed," and turning 
 with that delightful smile of his to the flattered author, he would 
 say, "I like the fifth line of the third verse of that poem of yours. 
 It goes this way," and with that, in a strong, ringing voice, he 
 would repeat the line referred to. As each person turned away 
 from the word or two with him, which evidently gave him almost 
 as much pleasure as it gave them, I could hear them say to each 
 other, "How did he know that poem of mine?" When I myself 
 questioned him about his knowledge of modem American 
 poetry, he answered quite simply: "But you know I like poetry 
 and I try to keep up on that line of literature too." He was 
 very fond of some of Arthur Guiterman's clever verse, and quoted 
 with special pleasure a sarcastic squib which the latter had just 
 published on the navy, apropos of Mr. Daniels's attitude: "We 
 are sitting with our knitting on the twelve-inch guns !" 
 
 Robert Frost, who was with us that afternoon, had shortly 
 
War 
 
 325 
 
 before published a remarkable poem called "Servant to Ser- 
 vaats," which had attracted my brother's attention, and of 
 which he spoke with keen interest to the author. Nothing dis- 
 tressed him more than the realization of the hard work performed 
 by the farmer's wife almost everywhere in our coimtry, and in 
 this poem of Mr. Frost's that situation was painted with his 
 forceful pen. 
 
 This remarkable memory of my brother's was shown not 
 only that afternoon amongst the poets, but shortly afterward 
 by an incident in connection with an afternoon at the Three 
 Arts Club, where he also generously consented to spend an hour 
 amongst the young girls who had come from various places in 
 our broad country to study one of the three arts — drama, music, 
 or painting — ^in our great metroplis. My friend Mrs. John 
 Henry Hammond, the able president of the Three Arts Club, 
 was anxious that he should meet her protegees and mine, for 
 I was a manager of the club. I remember we lined the girls 
 up in a row and had them pass in front of him in single file — • 
 several hundred young girls. Each was to have a shake of the 
 hand and a special word from the ex-President, but none was 
 supposed to pause more than a moment, as his time was limited. 
 About fifty or sixty girls had already passed in front of him and 
 received a cordial greeting, when a very pretty student, having 
 received her greeting, paused a little longer and, looking straight 
 at him, said: "Colonel Roosevelt, don't you remember me?" 
 This half-laughingly — evidently having been dared to ask the 
 question. Holding her hand and gazing earnestly at her, he 
 paused a moment or two and then, with a brilliant flashing smile, 
 said: "Of course I do. You were the little girl, seven years ago, 
 on a white bucking pony at El Paso, Texas, where I went down 
 to a reunion of my Rough Riders. I remember your little pony 
 ihnost fell backward into the carriage when it reared at the 
 aoise of the band." There never was a more surprised girl than 
 the one in question, for seven years had made a big difference 
 in the child of twelve, the rider of the bucking white pony, and 
 
326 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 it had really not occurred to her that he could possibly remember, 
 the incident, but remember it hie did, and one very happy heart 
 was carried away that day from the Three Arts Club. 
 
 As the winter of 1917 slipped by, there was evidence on all 
 sides that the slogan on which the Democratic party had based 
 its campaign efforts must soon be falsified; nothing could keep 
 the American people longer from their paramount duty, and 
 on April 2, 1917, President Wilson appeared before the united 
 bodies of the House and the Senate in Washington, and asked 
 that Congress should declare a state of war between Germany 
 and ourselves. Colonel Roosevelt, always anxious to back up 
 the President in any action in which he thought he was right, 
 went to Washington, or rather stopped in Washington, for he 
 was in the South at the time, to congratulate him on his decision 
 and to offer his services to assist the President in any way that 
 might be possible. 
 
 Within a few weeks of the actual declaration of war, Mr. 
 Roosevelt was already begging that he might be allowed to raise 
 a volunteer division, and urging that the administration Army 
 Bill should be supplemented with legislation authorizing the 
 raising of from one hundred to five himdred thousand volun- 
 teers to be sent to the firing-line in Europe at the earliest pos- 
 sible moment. In a letter to Senator George E. Chamberlain, 
 of Oregon, Colonel Roosevelt writes as follows: 
 
 "I most earnestly and heartily support the administration 
 bill for providing an army raised on the principle of universal 
 obligatory military training and service, but meanwhile, let us 
 use volunteer forces in coimection with a portion of the Regular 
 army, in order, at the earliest possible moment, — ^within a few 
 months, — to put our flag on the firing line. We owe this to hu- 
 manity; we owe it to the small nations who have suffered such 
 dreadful wrong from Germany. Most of all, we owe it to our- 
 selves; to our national honor and self-respect. For the sake 
 of our own souls, for the sake of the memories of the great Amer- 
 icans of the past, we must show that we do not intend to make 
 
. War 327 
 
 this merely a dollar war. Let us pay with our bodies for our 
 souls' desire. Let us, without one hour's unnecessary delay, 
 put the American flag at the battle-front in this great world 
 war for Democracy and civilization, and for the reign of Justice 
 and fair-dealing among the nations of mankind. 
 
 "My proposal is to use the volunteer system not in the 
 smallest degree as a substitute for, but as the, at present, neces- 
 sary supplement to the obligatory system. Certain of the volun- 
 teer organizations could be used very soon; they could be put 
 into the fighting in four months. ... I therefore propose that 
 there should be added to the proposed law, a section based on 
 Section 12 of the Army Act of March 2nd, 1899. . . ." 
 
 At the same time Representative Caldwell made an open 
 statement as follows: "The Army Bill suggested by Secretary 
 Baker will, in all probability, be introduced in the House on 
 Wednesday. There have been suggestions made that a clause 
 be placed in the proposed bill which would give Colonel Roose- 
 velt the power to take an army division to Europe. Colonel 
 Roosevelt outlined his plans to me. ... I am a Democrat 
 and intend to abide by the wishes of President Wilson and told 
 Colonel Roosevelt so. We agreed that there was no politics in 
 this matter, and from my talk with Mr. Roosevelt, I believe 
 him to be sincere in his purpose. He gave me the names of men 
 throughout the country who signified their intention of joining 
 his division. They include a number of men who served as of- 
 ficers with lii'm in the Spanish War, many college students, 
 former oflScers and members of the National Guard, all of whom 
 are in the best of physical condition and ready to go at a mo- 
 ment's notice. Colonel Roosevelt said that a large majority 
 of the men whom he hoped to take with him are from the south 
 and west." 
 
 Aheady, at the first intimation that Colonel Roosevelt might 
 lead a division into France, there had flocked to his standard 
 thousands of men, just as had been the case in the old days of 
 the Rough Riders. As immediate as was the rallyiag to his 
 
328 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 standard were also the attacks made upon him for having wished 
 to dedicate himself to this patriotic enterprise, and one of the 
 most acrimonious debates that ever occurred in the Senate of 
 the United States was on the subject of the amendment to that 
 Army Bill. The Democrats, led by Senator Stone, had much 
 to say about the unfitness of the Colonel. They did not seem 
 to realize how strong was the desire of France to have America's 
 best-known citizen go to her shores at the moment when her 
 morale was at the ebb; nor did they realize, apparently, the 
 promise for the future that there would be in the rapid arrival 
 of a large body of ardent American soldiers, well equipped to 
 tide over the period of waiting before a still larger force could 
 come to the assistance of the Allies. 
 
 Senator Hiram Johnson, orator and patriot, made a glowing 
 defense of Colonel Roosevelt in answering Senator Stone. It 
 is interesting to realize at this moment, when former Senator 
 Harding is the President of the United States, that it was he 
 who offered the amendment to the Army Bill, making it pos- 
 sible for Colonel Roosevelt to lead that division into France. 
 Senator Johnson said: 
 
 "... I listened with surprise — ^indeed, as a senator of 
 the United States, with hiuniliation — to the remarks of the 
 senior senator from Missouri as he excoriated Theodore 
 Roosevelt and as he held up to scorn and contumely what 
 he termed contemptuously 'The Roosevelt Division.' What 
 is it that is asked for The Roosevelt Division? It is asked 
 only by a man who is now really in the twilight of life that he 
 may finally lay down his life for the coimtry that is his. It is 
 only that he asks that he may serve that country, may go forth 
 to battle for his coimtry's rights, and may do all that may be 
 done by a human being on behalf of his nation. My God! When 
 was it that a nation denied to its sons the right to fight in its 
 behalf ? We have stood shoulder to shoulder both sides of this 
 Chamber in this war. To say that Roosevelt desires, for per- 
 sonal ambition and political favor hereafter, to go to war is to 
 
War 329 
 
 deny the entire life of this patriot. . . . Our distinguished sena- 
 tor has said that Roosevelt has toured the land in the endeavor 
 to do that which he desires. Aye, he has toured the land; he 
 toured the land for preparedness two and a half years ago, and 
 he was laughed at as hysterical. He toured the land two and a 
 half years ago and continuously since for undiluted Americamsm, 
 and you said he was filled with jingoism. To-day you have 
 adopted Ms preparedness plan; to-day his undiluted American- 
 ism that he preached to many, to which but few listened, has 
 become the slogan of the whole nation. He toured the land for 
 patriotism! . . . After all, my friends, Roosevelt fought in 
 the past and he fought for the United States of America; after 
 all, he asks only that he be permitted to fight to-day for the 
 United States of America. He is accused of a lack of experience. 
 . . . There is one thing this man has — one thing that he has 
 proven in the life he has lived in the open in this nation — he 
 has red blood in his veins and he has the ability to fight and he 
 has the tenacity to win when he fights, and that is the sort of 
 an American that is needed and required in this war. I say to 
 you, gentiemen of this particular assemblage, that if a man can 
 raise a division, if he wishes to fight, die, if need be, for his coun- 
 try, it is a sad and an awful thing that his motive shall be ques- 
 tioned and his opinions assailed in the very act that is indeed 
 the closing act of his career. 
 
 "Oh ! for more Roosevelts in this nation; oh ! for more men 
 who will stand upon the hustings and go about the country 
 preaching the undiluted Americamsm that all of us claim to 
 have ! Oh ! for more Roosevelts and more divisions of men who 
 will follow Roosevelt ! With more Roosevelts and more Roose- 
 velt divisions, the flag of the United States will go forth in this 
 great world conflict to the victory that every real American 
 should desire £tnd demand." 
 
 Part of the afternoon just before the final vote on the above 
 amendment to that Army Bill was spent by Theodore Roose- 
 velt in my library in New York. Those were the days when 
 
330 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 Mr. Balfour, M. Viviani, and General Joffre were receiving the 
 acclamation and the plaudits of the American people. At sev- 
 eral of the great ovations given to them, Theodore Roosevelt 
 was also on the platform, and it was frequently brought to my 
 notice by others that the tribute to him when he entered or left 
 the assemblage was equal in its enthusiasm to that for the dis- 
 tinguished guests. On the afternoon to which I have referred, 
 the French ambassador came for a quiet cup of tea with me and 
 my brother, and to his old friend and his sister the Colonel was 
 willing to unbosom his heart. He spoke poignantly of his desire 
 to lead his division into France. Over and over again he re- 
 peated: "The President need not fear me politically. No one 
 need fear me politically. If I am allowed to go, I could not last; 
 I am too old to last long under such drcmnstances. I should 
 crack [he repeated frequently: "I should crcu:k"] but [with a 
 vivid gleam of his white teeth] I could arouse the belief that 
 America was coming. I could show the Allies what was on the 
 way, and then if I did crack, the President could use me to come 
 back and arouse more enthusiasm here and take some more 
 men over. That is what I am good for now, and what differ- 
 ence would it make if I cracked or not!" 
 
 The amendment was passed that made it possible for volim- 
 teers to go to France, but the beloved wish of his heart was de- 
 nied by those in authority to that most eager of volunteers, 
 Colonel Theodore Roosevelt. 
 
 In July my brother wrote an open letter of farewell, dis- 
 banding the division for which there had been tentatively sb 
 many volunteers. After a correspondence with the secretary 
 of war, a correspondence which Theodore Roosevelt himself 
 has given to the world, the definite decision was made that he 
 would not be allowed to "give his body for his soul's desire," 
 and shortly after that decision I sent him the following poem, 
 which had been shown to me by one of his devoted admirers^ 
 the poet Marion Couthouy Smith. It ran as follows: 
 
War 
 
 FAREWELLS 
 
 331 
 
 "In old Fratinces Tavern, 
 
 Once I was told 
 Of Washington's farewell to his generals, 
 
 Generals crowned with victory. 
 And tears filled my eyes. — 
 
 "But when I read 
 
 Roosevelt's letter disbanding his volunteers, — 
 Volunteers despised and rejected, — 
 Tears filled my heart!" 
 
 In acknowledging the poem on July 3, 1917, from Sagamore 
 Hill, my brother writes: 
 
 "I loved your letter; and as for the little poem, I prize it 
 more than anything that has been written about me; I shall 
 keep it as the epitaph of the division and of me. We have just 
 heard that Ted and Archie have landed in France. Lord North- 
 cliffe wired me this morning that Lord Derby offered Kermit a 
 position on the staff of the British army in Mesopotamia. [After 
 hard fighting in Mesopotamia, Kermit was later transferred to 
 the American forces in France.] I do not know when he will 
 sail. Quentin has passed his examinations for the flying corps. 
 He hopes to sail this month. Dick [Richard Derby, his son- 
 in-law] is so anxious to go down to Camp Oglethorpe that Ethel 
 is almost as anxious to have him go. Eleanor [yoimg Theodore's 
 wife] sails for France on Saturday to do Y. M. C. A. work. / 
 remain, as a slacker 'malgr6 lui ! ' Give my love to Corinne and 
 Joe and Helen and Teddy. I am immensely pleased about Doro- 
 thy's baby. [Dorothy, my son Monroe's wife.] Edith asked 
 Fanny to come out on Friday with our delightful friend, Beebe 
 the naturalist. I thoroughly enjoyed it. Beebe is a great friend 
 (if mine." 
 
 The "slacker malgr6 lui" accepted the gravest disappoint- 
 ment of his life as he did any other disappointment — eyes for- 
 
332 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 ward, shoulders squared, and head thrown back. It was hard 
 for him, however, to busy himself, as he said, with what he con- 
 sidered "utterly pointless and fussy activities," when his whole 
 soul was in the great conflict on the far side of the water, from 
 which one of his boys was not to return, and where two of the 
 others were to be seriously wounded. 
 
 Writing on October 5, 1917, he says: "Of course I stood 
 by Mitchel." This refers to a hot campaign which was waging 
 around the figure of the young mayor of New Yort City, John 
 Purroy Mitchel, who had given New York City the best ad- 
 ministration for many a long year and was up for re-election 
 but, unfortimately, due to many surprising circumstances, was 
 later defeated. My brother had the greatest admiration for the 
 fearlessness and ability of the yoimg mayor, and later, when 
 that same gallant American entered the flying service and was 
 killed in a trial flight, no one mourned him more sincerely than 
 did the man who always recognized courage and determination 
 and patriotism in Democrat or Republican alike. 
 
 About the same time, in speaking of General Franklin Bell, 
 who was in charge of Camp Upton, he says : " The latter is keenly 
 eager to go abroad. He says that if he is not sent, he will retire 
 and go abroad as a volunteer." By a strange chance, a snap- 
 shot was taken of the first division of drafted men sent to Camp 
 Upton just as they were passing the reviewing-stand, on which 
 stood together Franklin BeU, John Purroy Mitchel, and Theo- 
 dore Roosevelt. The expression on my brother's face was one 
 so spiritual, so exalted in aspect, that I am reproducing the 
 picture. 
 
 All through that autumn he gave himself imstintedly to 
 war work of aU kinds, and amongst other things came, at my 
 request, to a "Fatherless Children of France" booth at the 
 great Allied Bazaar. The excitement in front of the booth as 
 he stood there was intense, and as usual the admirers who strug- 
 gled to shake his hand were of the most varied character. We 
 decided to charge fifty cents for a hand-shake, and we laughed 
 
■^& 
 
 
 S -S-s 
 
 
 §S 
 
 
 S u 
 
 14-1 -^ 
 
War 
 
 333 
 
 immoderately at the numbers of repeaters. One man, how- 
 sver, having apparently approached the booth from curiosity, 
 said "it wasn't worth it." The indignation of the crowd was 
 30 great that immediately there were volunteers to pay for three 
 and four extra hand-shakes to shame the deUnquent ! 
 
 Shortly before that, a friend of Colonel John W. Vrooman's 
 wrote to him about a certain meeting at the Union League Club 
 called to witness a send-oflf to some of the soldiers. The writer 
 says: 
 
 "The moment Colonel Roosevelt appeared on the review- 
 ing stand he was recognized and the vicinity of the Club was 
 in an uproar. Later on when visiting a party in the private 
 dining room, he had only been in the room about three minutes 
 when he was recognized by the girls and boys who were looking 
 it the review from a building on the opposite side of the street, 
 fust to show you how he reaches the heart of the people, they 
 dieered and waved at him until his attention was attracted and 
 ie had to go to the window and salute them. Although he was 
 m hour and a half in conversation in the club, he did not forget 
 ids little friends across the way but on leaving, went to the win- 
 low and waved goodbye to them. Every youngster present 
 isrill relate this incident, I am sure, for a long time to come. In 
 eaving the Club house, he was set upon, it seemed to me, by 
 he youngsters of the East Side so that he had to beg his way 
 hrough the crowd that had been waiting in the rain three hours 
 ust to see him, and in getting into the automobile, they ap- 
 )eared to an on-looker to be clambering all over him, and I would 
 tot be surprised if he carried a few of them away in his pockets 
 is he carried most of their little hearts with him." 
 
 Li the midst of all the excitement, we occasionally snatched 
 I momeat for a quiet limcheon. "Fine !" he writes me on No- 
 vember 5. "Yes, — Thursday, — the Langdon at 1:30. It will 
 le fine to see Patty Sehnes." How he did enjoy seeing our mu- 
 ual friend Patty Sehnes that day! As "Patty Flandrau" of 
 Kentucky she had married Tilden Sehnes just about the time 
 
334 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 that Theodore Roosevelt had taken up his residence in the Bad 
 Lands of Dakota, where the young married couple had also 
 migrated. Nothing was ever more entertaining than to start 
 the "don't you remember" conversations between my brother 
 and his old friend Mrs. Selmes. Each would cap some wild 
 Western story of the other with one equally wild and amusing, 
 and the tales of their adventures with the Marquis de Mords 
 would have shamed Dimias himself ! 
 
 Another little note came to me shortly after the above, sug- 
 gesting that he should spend the night and have one of the old- 
 time breakfasts that he loved. "Breakfast is really the meal 
 for long and intimate conversation." He writes the postscript 
 which he adds he knew would please my heart, for one of my 
 sons, owing to a slight defect in one eye, had had difficulty in 
 being accepted in the army, but through, strong determination 
 had finally achieved a captaincy in the ammunition train of the 
 77th Division. My brother says in the postscript: "I genu- 
 inely admire and respect Monroe." About New Year's eve a 
 letter came to my husband from him in answer to a congratula- 
 tory letter on the fine actions of my brother's boys. "Of course, 
 we are very proud of Archie, and General Duncan has just 
 written us about Ted in terms that make our hearts glow. 
 Well, there is no telling what the New Year has in store. The 
 hand of Fate may be heavy upon us, but we can all be sure that 
 it will not take away our pride in our boys. [My son Monroe 
 was expecting to be sent soon to France in the 77th Division, 
 and my eldest son, who had broken his leg, was hoping to get 
 into a camp when the leg had recovered its power.] I cannot 
 tell you, my dear Douglas, how much you and Corinne have 
 done for us and have meant to us during the last six months. 
 Ever yours, T. R." 
 
 In the "Life and Letters of George Eliot " she dwells upon 
 the fact that so many people lose the great opportunity of giving 
 to others the outward expression of their love and appreciation, 
 and as I re-read my brother's treasured letters, I realize fully 
 
War 
 
 335 
 
 what the authoress meant, and how much the giver of such 
 honest and loving expression wins in return from those to whom 
 the happiness of appreciation has been rendered. 
 
 The year 191 7 was over; the American people once more 
 could look with level eyes in the faces of their allies in the great 
 world effort for righteousness. In the midst of thoughts of war, 
 in the midst of clamor of all sorts, in the midst of grave anxiety 
 for the sons of his heart, wearing a service pin with five stars 
 upon it — for he regarded his gallant son-in-law Doctor Richard 
 Derby as one of his own flesh and blood — ^Theodore Roosevelt 
 still had time to speak and write on certain subjects close in 
 another way than war to the hearts and minds of the people. 
 Writing for the Ladies' Home Journal an article called "Shall 
 We Do Away with the Church? " he says certain things of per- 
 manent import to the narion. 
 
 "In the pioneer days of the West, we found it an unfailing 
 rule that after a community had existed for a certain length 
 of time, either a church was built or else the community began 
 to go downhill. In these old commimities of the -Eastern States 
 which have gone backward, it is noticeable that the retrogression 
 has been both marked and accentuated by a rapid decline in 
 church membership and work, the two facts being so inter- 
 related that each stands to the other partly as a cause and 
 partly as an effect." After reviewing the self-indulgent Sunday 
 in contradistinction to the church-going Sunday, he says: 
 
 "I doubt whether the -frank protest of nothing but amuse- 
 ment has really brought as much happiness as if it had been 
 alloyed with and supplemented by some minimum meeting of 
 obligation toward others. Therefore, on Sunday go to church. 
 Yes, — ^I know all the excuses; I know that one can worship the 
 Creator and dedicate oneself to good living in a grove of trees or 
 by a running brook or in one's own house just as well as in a 
 church, but I also know that as a matter of cold fact, the average 
 man does not thus worship or thus dedicate himself. If he stays 
 away from church he does not spend his time in good works or in 
 
336 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 lofty meditation. . . . He may not hear a good sermon at church 
 but unless he is very unfortunate he will hear a sermon by a 
 good man who, with his good wife, is engaged all the week long 
 in a series of wearing and hum-drum and important tasks for 
 making hard lives a httle easier; and both this man and this 
 wife are, in the vast majority of cases, showing much self-denial, 
 and doing much for hiunble folks of whom few others think, and 
 they are keeping up a brave show on narrow means. Surely, 
 the average man ought to sympathize with the work done by 
 such a couple and ought to help them, and he cannot help them 
 imless he is a reasonably regular church attendant. Besides, 
 even if he does not hear a good sermon, the probabilities are 
 that he will listen to and take part in reading some beautiful 
 passages from the Bible, and if he is not familiar with the Bible, 
 he has suffered a loss which he had better make all possible haste 
 to correct. He will meet and nod to or speak to good, quiet 
 neighbors. If he doesn't think about himself too much, he will 
 benefit himself very much^ especially as he begins to think chiefly 
 of others. . . . 
 
 "I advocate a man's joining in church work for the sake of 
 showing his faith by his works; I leave to professional theo- 
 logians the settlement of the question, whether he is to achieve 
 his salvation by his works or by faith which is only genuine if 
 it expresses itself in works. Micah's insistence upon love and 
 mercy, and doing justice and walking hiunbly with the Lord's 
 will, should suffice if lived up to. . . . Let the man not think 
 overmuch of saving his own soul. That will come of itself, if 
 he tries in good earnest to look after his neighbor both in soul 
 and in body — ^rememberiag always that he had better leave his 
 neighbor alone rather than show arrogance and lack of tactful- 
 ness in the effort to help him. The church on the other himd 
 must fit itself for the practical betterment of manHnd if it fe 
 to attract and retain the fealty of the men best worth, holding 
 and using." 
 
 Space forbids my quotiag further from this, to me, excep- 
 
War 337 
 
 tionally interesting article which closes with this sentence: "The 
 man who does not in some way, active or not, connect himself 
 with some active working church, misses many opportunities 
 for helping his neighbors and therefore, incidentally, for help- 
 ing himself." 
 
 And again, in an address at the old historic church of Johns- 
 town in Pennsylvania, he makes a great plea for the church of 
 the new democracy, and lays stress upon the fact that unless 
 individuals can honestly beUeve in their hearts that their coun- 
 try would be better off without any churches, these same in- 
 dividuals must acknowledge the fact that it is their duty to 
 uphold, by their presence in them, the churches which they know 
 to be indi^ensable to the vigor and stability of the nation. 
 
 In the first week of February, 1918, he had arranged to come 
 to me for a cup of tea to meet one or two literary friends, and 
 the message came that he was not well and was going to the 
 hospital instead. The malignant SraziUan fever^ always lurk- 
 ing, ready to spring at his vitality, had shown itself in a pecu- 
 liarly painful way, and an operation was considered necessary. 
 As his own sons were far away, my son Monroe, who was soon to 
 sail for France, was able to assist in taking him to Roosevelt 
 Hospital, and there the operation was successfully performed; 
 but within tweuty-four hours, an une^ected danger connected 
 with the ears had arisen, and for one terrible night the doctors 
 feared for his life, as the trouble threatened the base of the brain. 
 The rumor spread that he was dying, and on February 8th the 
 New York Tribune printed at the head of its editorial page this 
 short and touching sentence: "Theodore Roosevelt— listen I 
 You must be up and well again; we cannot have it otherwise; 
 we could not run this world without you." At the time these 
 TTOids .were printed, I was told by my sister-in-law and by the 
 doctor that he wanted to speak to me (I had been in the hos- 
 pitd waiting anxiously near his room) and that they felt that 
 it would trouble him if he did not have his wish; they cautioned 
 me to put my ear close down to his lips, for even a slight move- 
 
S3^ My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 ment of the head might bring about a fatal result. My readers 
 must remember what was happening on the other side of the 
 ocean as Theodore Roosevelt lay sick unto death in the city 
 of his birth. The most critical period of the Great War was 
 at hand. Very soon the terrible "March offensive" was to be- 
 gin. Very soon we were to hear that solemn caU from General 
 Haig that his "back was against the wall." We were all keyed 
 up to the highest extent; all of my brother's sons were at the 
 front, my own son was about to sail, and at this most critical 
 moment the man to whom the youth of America looked for lead- 
 ership was stricken and laid low. 
 
 As I entered the sick-room, all this was in my mind. Con^ 
 trolling myself to all outward appearance, I put my ear close to 
 his lips, and these were the words which Theodore Roosevelt 
 said to his sister, words which he fully believed would be the 
 last he could ever say to her. Thank God he did speak to 
 me many times again, and we had eleven months more of close 
 and intimate communion, but at that moment he was facing 
 the valley of the shadow. As I leaned over him, in a hoarse 
 whisper he said: "I am so glad that it is not one of my boys 
 who is dying here, for they can die for their country." 
 
 As he gradually convalesced from that serious illness, many 
 were our intimate hours of conversation. The hospital was 
 besieged by adoring multitudes of inquirers. I remember tak- 
 ing a taxicab myself one day to go there, and when I said to the 
 Italian driver, "Go to the Roosevelt Hospital," the quick re- 
 sponse came: "You go see Roosevelt — they all go see Roosevelt 
 — they all go ask how Roosevelt is — ^he my friend, too — ^you tell 
 him get well for me." Every sort of individual, as he grew 
 stronger, waited ia the corridor for a chance to consult him on 
 this or that subject. Of course few were allowed to do so, but it 
 was more than ever evident by the throng of men, distinguished 
 in the public affairs of the country, who begged admittance even 
 for a few moments that the "Colonel" was still the Mecca 
 toward which the trend of political hope was turning ! 
 
War 339 
 
 After a brief rest at Oyster Bay he insisted upon keeping 
 the appointments to speak in various states, appointments the 
 breaking of which his iUness had necessitated. His great ovation 
 in Maine showed beyond dispute how the heart of the Republican 
 party was turning to its old-time leader, and every war work, 
 needless to say, clamored for a speech from him. One of his 
 most characteristic notes was in connection with my plea that 
 he should speak at Carnegie Hall for the Red Cross on a certain 
 May afternoon. Josef Hofmann had promised to come all the 
 way from Aiken to play for the benefit if Theodore Roosevelt 
 were to be the speaker of the occasion, and in writing hirn on the 
 subject, I laid stress on the sacrifice of time and energy of the 
 great pianist, and in my zeal apparently gave the impression 
 that my brother was to do a great favor to Josef Hofmann rather 
 than the Red Cross, and he answers me humorously: "Darling 
 Coiinne: — ^All right! — ^A ten-minute speech for the pianist. 
 That goes !" He always considered it a great joke that it was 
 necessary for. Josef Hofmann to have him speak. 
 
 That same May one lovely afternoon stands out most clearly. 
 John Masefield, the great English poet, had been several times 
 in the coimtry. My brother knew his work well but had not 
 met him, and I had had that privilege. I wished to take him 
 to Oyster Bay, and the invitation was gladly forthcoming. It 
 proved fair and beautiful, and Mr. Masefield and I motored 
 out to luncheon. On the veranda at Sagamore Hill were my 
 brother and Mrs. Roosevelt, their daughter Mrs. Derby and 
 her lovely children, and later John Masefield took little Richard 
 on his lap and wove for Vn'm a tale to which we grown people 
 listened, my brother resting his eyes gladly on the little boy's 
 jiead as he leaned against the poet. After the story was told, 
 we wandered oflf to a distant summer-house overlooking both 
 sides of the bay, and there Theodore Roosevelt and John Mase- 
 field spoke intimately together of many things. It was a day 
 of sunlight in early spring, and the air was fuU "of a summer 
 to be," but under the outward cahn and beauty of the sun and 
 
340 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 sea lay a poignant sadness for our sons who were in a distant 
 land, for the moment had come when the American troops were 
 to show their valor in a great cause. 
 
 The day after the Carnegie Hall speech for the Red Cross, 
 one of his most flaming addresses, in which he pictured the young 
 men of America as Galahads of modern days, I wrote to him 
 of my gratitude and emotion, and he answers at once (how did 
 he ever find the time to answer so immediately so many letters 
 which came to him) : 
 
 "Darling Corinne: — ^That is a very dear letter of yours; your 
 sons and my sons were before my eyes as I spoke. I am leaving 
 tomorrow for the West until May 31st. I leave again on June 
 6th, returning on the 13th, and on Saturday, the 15th, must 
 go to a Trinity College function and stay with Bye. [Referring 
 to my sister, Mrs. Cowles.] WiU you take me out in your motor 
 to Oyster Bay for dinner when I return?" Already he had 
 plunged into what he considered his active duty and was over- 
 taxing his strength — that strength only so lately restored, and 
 not enfirely restored — in the service erf his country. 
 
 It was at Indiana University in June of that year that he 
 made one of his most significant pronouncements, a pronounce- 
 ment especially significant in the light of the so-called Sinn Fein 
 activities during the last two years in this country. He was 
 very fond of the Irish, and fond of many of the Irish-bom citizens 
 of America, and always loved to refer to his own Irish blood, 
 but he had no sympathy whatsoever with certain attitudes taken 
 by certain Irish-born or naturalized Americans under the name, 
 falsely used, of patriotism, and he speaks his mind courageously 
 and clea.rly at Indiana University. 
 
 "Friends, it is unpatriotic and un-American to damage 
 America because you love another country, but there is one 
 thing worse and that is to damage America because you hate 
 another coimtry. The Sinn Feiner who acts against America 
 because he hates England is a worse creature than the mem- 
 ber of the German-American Alliance who has acted against 
 
War 
 
 341 
 
 America because he loves Germany. I want to point out this 
 bit of etymological information: Sinn Fein means 'Us, Our- 
 selves.' It means that those who adopt that name are fighting 
 for themselves, for a certain division of people across the sea. 
 What right have they to come to America? Their very name 
 shows that they are not American; that they are for themselves 
 against America." 
 
 In July, when I had been threatened with rather serious 
 trouble in my eyes, he again writes with his usual unfailing sym- 
 pathy: "I think of you all the time. I so hate to have you threat- 
 ened by trouble with your eyes or any other trouble. Edgar 
 Lee Masters spent a couple of hours here yesterday. Ethel and 
 htr two blessed bunnies have gone. I miss Pitty Pat and Tippy 
 Toe frightfully." Little "Edie," his youngest granddaughter, 
 was a special pet, and rarely did one visit Sagamore at that time 
 without finding the lovely rosy baby in his arms. He could 
 hardly pass her baby-carriage when she slept vnthout stopping 
 to look at her, for which nefarious action he was sometunes 
 severely chastised by the stem young mother. But the burn- 
 ing heart of Theodore Roosevelt could hardly ever be assuaged 
 even by the sweet unconsciousness of the little children who 
 knew not of the dangers faced so gallantly by their father and 
 their mother's brothers. 
 
 America had been over fourteen months in the Great War 
 when an editorial appeared in one of the important newspapers 
 called "The Impatience of Theodore Roosevelt." It ran as 
 follows: 
 
 "There is a certain disposition to criticise Theodore Roose- 
 velt for what is termed his ultra views regarding the war. It 
 is not all captious criticism. Some people honestiy feel that 
 he has been impatient and fault-finding. Much of the picture 
 is true. He A05 been impatient; he fo^ taken what may be called 
 an ultra position; he has fotmd fault, but we should like to point 
 out one very distinct fact. Theodore Roosevelt from the first 
 day we entered the war has stood unswervingly and whole-heart- 
 
342 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 edly for throwing the complete strength of the nation into the 
 war. For that matter, he held this position, preached this doc-' 
 trine long before we entered the war. He preached the draft, 
 he preached preparation, he preached the sending of the largest 
 possible army to France,— /row the beginning. Now the fact 
 we wish to point out is that the country is not growing away 
 from Theodore Roosevelt's position, — ^it is growing toward it. 
 It has been actually moving toward it of late very rapidly. This 
 is true not merely of the great mass of people, but of their rep- 
 resentatives at Washington, . . . and perhaps even some mem- 
 bers of the Cabinet and the President himself. Practically 
 the whole nation now is unreservedly for throwing the whole 
 strength of the nation to the side of the allies. This was not 
 true a year ago today, although we had then been officaUy at 
 war with Germany for more than two months. Today the whole 
 nation stands where Theodore Roosevelt stood one year ago, 
 and two years ago, and three years ago. — ^In point of fact, ever 
 since the day when by the sinking of the Lusitania, Germany 
 declared itself an outlaw to the name of civilization. We do 
 not mean to say that Theodore Roosevelt was the nation's sole 
 leader, but we do wish to say that he was very distinctly a leader, 
 and later, in the highest and best sense, — & man who saw, far 
 ahead of many others, what ought to be and what must be, and 
 then threw his whole heart and soul into bringing the nation 
 and many reluctant minds to his porat of view. We write: He 
 may have been impatient; he may have found fault, but we 
 think that most Americans of whatever party color, if they 
 now have any regrets, have these regrets because we could not 
 earlier have come nearer to the ideal set up a year, or two years, 
 or three years ago by Theodore Roosevelt. If this is not One 
 of the highest standards of leadership, we do not imderstand 
 the meaning of the term." 
 
 Events were moving rapidly. Our American soldiers were 
 already playing a gallant part in the terrible drama enacted 
 on the fields and forests of France and in the fastnesses of the 
 
War 343 
 
 Italian hills. News had come of "Archie's" wounds and of 
 "Ted's" wounds, and Quentin had ab-eady made his trial 
 flights, while Kermit had been transferred from the British 
 army to his own flag. 
 
 Political events in America were also marching rapidly for- 
 ward. Already, wherever one lent a listening ear, the growing 
 murmur rose louder and louder that Theodore Roosevelt was 
 the only candidate to be nominated by the Republican party 
 in 1920. The men who had parted from him in 191 2, the men 
 who had not rallied around him in 1916, were all eagerly rang- 
 ing themselves on the side of this importunate rumor. A cul- 
 minating moment was approaching. It was the middle of July, 
 and the informal convention of the Republican party in New 
 York State was about to take place at Saratoga. My eldest son. 
 State Senator Theodore Douglas Robinson, led a number of men 
 in the opposition of the then incumbent of the gubernatorial 
 chair, Charles S. Whitman. The hearts of many were strong 
 with desire that my brother himself should be the Republican 
 nominee for the next governor of New York State. No one 
 knew his attitude on the subject, but he had promised to make 
 the address of the occasion, my son having been appointed to 
 make the request that he should do so. My husband and I had 
 ananged to meet him in Saratoga, my son having preceded us 
 to Albany to make all the formal arrangements. The day be- 
 fore the convention was to take place the terrible news came 
 that Quentin was killed. Of course there was a forlorn hope 
 that this information might not be true, that the gallant boy 
 might perhaps have reached the earth alive and might already 
 be a prisoner in a German camp, but there seemed but little 
 doubt of the truth of the terrible fact. My son telephoned me 
 the news from Albany before the morning paper could arrive 
 at my country home, and at the same time said to me that he 
 did not feel justified in asking his Uncle Theodore whether he 
 still would come to Saratoga, but that he wanted me to get this 
 information for him if possible. 
 
344 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 My country home in the Mohawk Hills of New York State is 
 many miles from Sagamore Hill on Long Island, and it was dif- 
 ficult to get telephdne connection. My heart was unspeakably 
 sore and heavy at the thought of the terrible sorrow that had 
 come to my sister-in-law and my brother, and I shrank from 
 asking any question <:onceming any matter except the sad news 
 of the death of Quentin, or imminent danger to him. My brother 
 himself came to the telephone; the sound of his voice was as 
 if steel had entered into the tone. As years before he had written 
 me from South Africa in my own great sorrow, he had "grasped 
 the nettle." I asked him whether he would like me to come 
 down at once to Oyster Bay, and his answer was almost harsh 
 in its rapidity: "Of course not — I will meet you in Saratoga 
 as arranged. It is more than ever my duty to be there. You 
 can come down to New York after the convention." The very 
 tone of his voice made me realize the agony ia his heart, but 
 duty was paramount. The affairs of his State, the affairs of 
 the nation, needed his counsel, needed his self-control. His 
 boy had paid the final price of duty; was he, the father who had 
 taught that boy the ideal of service and sacrifice, to shrink in 
 cowardly fashion at the crucial moment? 
 
 The next day I met him in Albany and motored him to Sara- 
 toga. His face was set and grave, but he welcomed my sym- 
 pathy generously. Meanwhile, the night before there had been 
 great excitement in Saratoga. A number of delegates were in 
 favor of renominating Governor Charles S. Whitman on the 
 Republican ticket, but a large and important group of men, 
 in fact, the largest and most important group in the Republican 
 party of New York State, were extremely anxious that Colonel 
 Roosevelt should allow his name to be brought forward as a 
 candidate for governor. Elihu Root, William Howard Taf t, and 
 many of the weighty "bosses" of the various counties lent all 
 their efforts toward this achievement. Colonel Roosevelt, on his 
 arrival in Saratoga, took a quiet luncheon with my family, Mrs. 
 Parsons, and myself, after which we adjourned to the large hall 
 
War 345 
 
 in wWch the convention was to.be held I remember before 
 we left him that Mrs. Parsons suggested the insertion of a sen- 
 tence in the speech which he was about to make, and his imme- 
 diate and grateful response to the suggestion. No one had a 
 more open mind to the helpful suggestion of others. 
 
 The great hall was already filled to overflowing when we ar- 
 rived, and it was diflScult for us to find our seats, even although 
 they had been carefully reserved for us. The atmosphere of 
 the crowd in the great building was different from that of any 
 concourse of people who had hitherto waited the coming of 
 Theodore Roosevelt. At other times, in other crowds, when 
 their favorite leader was expected, there had always been a qual- 
 ity of hilarity aad gay familiarity showing itsdf in songs and 
 demonstrations in which the oft-repeated "We want Teddy — 
 we want Teddy" almost always was heard, but in this great 
 assemblage there was a hushed silence and solicitude for their 
 beloved friend, a personal outflowing of silent sympathy for the 
 man whose yoimgest, whose "Benjamin," had so lately paid 
 the final price, and even a few minutes later, when to the strains 
 of the "Star-Spangled-Banner," Colonel Roosevelt was escorted 
 up the aisle by my son. Senator Robinson, and Congressman 
 Cox, from his own Nassau County, the many faces turned eagerly 
 to watch him showed in strained eyes and set though quivering 
 lips their efforts at self-control. As he began his speech, we real- 
 ized fully that he was holding himself fimdy together, but as he 
 poured out his message of Americanism, as he pleaded for the 
 finer and truer patriotism to be brought more closely and 
 definitely into political action, he lost the sense of the great be- 
 reavement that had come to him, in his dedication anew to the 
 effort to arouse in his countrymen the selfless desire for service, 
 with which he had always fronted the problems of his own 
 life. Toward the end of the speech, though he never referred 
 to his sorrow, the realization of it again gripped him with 
 its inevitable torture, and again the people who sat in breath- 
 less silence — listening to one to whom th^ had always listened 
 
346 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 — -followed in their hearts the hard path that he was bravely 
 treading. 
 
 The convention adjourned, and he asked the leaders to wait 
 until the following day, at least, for his answer to the Round- 
 Robin request which had been sent to him, but he did not give 
 much hope that he would look favorably upon their desire that 
 he should allow his name to be put in nomination as candidate 
 for governor. I motored him back to Albany and took the train 
 with him for New York. In recalling the hours of intercourse 
 that afternoon and early evening, the great impression made 
 upon my mind by his attitude was one of ineffable gentleness. 
 Never was he more loving in his interest about me and mine; 
 never was he less thoughtful of self. I realized that he needed 
 quiet, and when I foimd that my seat was in a different car from 
 his, although several people offered to change their seats with 
 me, I felt that after our drive together, it would do him more 
 good to be alone and read than to try to talk to me. I told him 
 I would order our dinner and would come back for hitn when 
 it was time for the meal, and I left him with his usual book in 
 his hand. When I came back, however, I stood behind him for 
 a moment or two before making myself known to him again, and 
 I could see that he was not reading, that his sombre eyes were 
 fixed on the swiftly passing woodlands and the river, and that 
 the book had not the power of distracting him from the all-em- 
 bracing grief which enveloped him. When I spoke, however, 
 he turned with a responsive smile, and during our whole meal 
 gave me, as ever, the benefit of his deli^tful knowledge of all 
 the affairs of the world. 
 
 Only once during oiu: talk did he speak of the Round 
 Robin, and especially of my son's desire that he should be the 
 nominee for governor. He used an expression in discussing the 
 matter which gave me at once a sense of almost physical ap- 
 prehension. Looking at me gravely, he said: "Corinne, I have 
 only one fight left in me, and I think I should reserve my strength 
 in case I am needed in 1920." The contraction of my heart was 
 
War 
 
 347 
 
 swift and painful, and I said: "Theodore, you don't feel really ill, 
 do you?" "No," he said; "but I am not what I was and there 
 is only one fight left in me." I suggested that that fight would 
 probably be made easier by this premonitory battle, but he shook 
 his head and I could see that there was but little chance of his 
 undertaking the factional warfare of a state campaign, nor did 
 he seem to feel, as did some others, that to win the election for 
 governor of New York State would be of distinct advantage 
 in connection with the great fight to come in 1920. The follow- 
 ing week Theodore Roosevelt definitely refused to let his name 
 be put before the people as a candidate for the governorship 
 of the Empire State. 
 
 That evening on arriving late in New York, he would not let 
 me go to the Langdon Hotel with him, but insisted on taking me 
 to my own house. The next morning I went early to the Lang- 
 don, hoping for better news, and saw my sister-in-law, whose won- 
 derful self-control was a lesson to all those who have had to meet 
 the ultimate pain of life. I could see that she had but little hope, 
 but for my brother's sake, until the actual confirmation of Quen- 
 tin's death, she bravely hoped for hope. Later, Colonel Roose- 
 velt made a statement from 0)^ter Bay in connection with the 
 many telegrams and cables of sympathy which they received. 
 He said: "These messages were not meant for publication but 
 to express sympathy with Quentin's father and mother, and 
 sorrow for a gallant boy who had been doing his duty like hun^ 
 dreds of thousands of young Americans. Many of them indeed, 
 I think, were really an expression of sympathy from the mothers 
 and fathers who have gladly and proudly, and yet with sorrow, 
 seen the sons they love go forth to battle for their country and 
 the right. These telegrams, cables, and letters show the spirit 
 of our whole people." 
 
 The noble attitude of my brother and sister-in-law roused 
 deep admiration, and I have always felt that their influence 
 was never more felt than when with aching hearts they con- 
 tinued quietly to go about their daily duties. 
 
348 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 On August 3d a letter came to me from Dark Harbor, Maine, 
 where Colonel and Mrs. Roosevelt had gone to visit their daugh- 
 ter Mrs. Derby. "Darling Corinne: — ^Indeed it would be the 
 greatest pleasure — I mean that exactly,— to have yoa bring little 
 Douglas to Sagamore in the holidays. [He refers to my grand- 
 son, the son of Theodore Douglas Robinson.] All the people 
 here are most considerate and the children a comfort. Little 
 Edie is as pretty as a picture and a little darling; she has been 
 very much of a chimney swallow this morning, clinging to who- 
 ever will take her up and cuddle her." In the latter part of the 
 letter he refers to my own great loss nine years before of my young- 
 est son in his twentieth year, and says: "Your burden was even 
 harder to bear than ours, for Stewart's life was even shorter 
 than Quentin's and he had less chance to give shape to what 
 there was in him, but, after all, whoi the young die at the crest 
 of their life, in their golden morning, the degrees of difference are 
 merely degrees in bitterness; and yet, tiiere is nothing more cow- 
 ardly than to be beaten down by sorrows which nothing we can 
 do will change. Love to Douglas, Helen and Teddy, and to 
 Fanny if she is with you." The sentence of this brave letter in 
 which my brother speaks of its being "cowardly to be beaten 
 down by sorrows which nothing we do can change" is typical of 
 the attitude which he had preserved through Ws whole life. 
 Theodore Roosevelt was a great sharer and a great lover, but 
 above all else he was essentially the courageous man who faced 
 squarely whatever came, and by so facing conquered. 
 
 A few days later, again a dear letter came from Dark Harbor, 
 and once more he dwells upon the baby girl who comforted him 
 with her sweet, imconsdous merriment. He says: "She is such 
 a pretty little baby and with such cunning little ways. I fear 
 I am not an unprejudiced witness. The little, curly-headed 
 rascal is at this moment, crawling actively aroimd my feet in 
 her usual, absurd garb of blue overalls, drawn over her dainty 
 dresses, because otherwise, she would ruin every garment she 
 has on and skin her little bare knees. I heartily congratulate 
 
War 
 
 349 
 
 Teddy on going to camp. Give Corinne and Helen my dearest 
 love and to all the others too." The congratulations sent to 
 my eldest son were indeed deserved, for the serious break to his 
 leg having at last fully recovered, and a new camp near Louis- 
 ville, Ky., having been started for men above the draft age, 
 my son with real sacrifice resigned from his position in the 
 Senate (having just been nominated for a second term), and 
 started for Camp Taylor, where later he received his commis- 
 sion. My brother was very proud of the fact that, with hardly 
 an exception, each son, nephew, or cousin of the Roosevelt and 
 Robinson family was actively enrolled in the country's service. 
 
 On August i8, having returned to Sagamore HiU, a little 
 line onnes to me of appreciation of a poem that I had written 
 called "Italy." "I am particularly glad you wrote it," he says, 
 and referring to my son-in-law, he continues: "Joe and Corinne 
 lunched here yesterday; they were dear, — ^I admire them both 
 so much." He never failed, as I have said before, in giving me 
 the joy of knowing when he admired those most dear to me. 
 The following day, August 19, Mr. Colgate Hoyt, a generous 
 neighbor, wrote to Colonel Roosevelt making the suggestion 
 that a monument should be erected in honor of Quentin in some 
 permanent place in the village of Oyster Bay, as Mr. Hoyt 
 thought it would have an educational influence and value, as 
 Quentin was the first resident of Ojreter Bay (and the first ofi&cer) 
 to make the supreme sacrifice in giving his life for his country. 
 Mr. Hoyt wished to start this movement, but Colonel Roose- 
 velt sent the following reply, a copy of which Mr. Hoyt gave me: 
 
 "My dear Mr. Hoyt:— That is a very nice letter of yours, 
 but I do not think it would be advisable to try to put up a monu- 
 ment for Quentin. Of course, individually, our loss is irreparable 
 but to the country he is simply one among many gallant boys 
 who gave their lives for the great Cause. With very hearty 
 thanks. Faithfully yours." 
 
 The above letter and his statement that he and Quentin's 
 mother would prefer that their boy should lie where he fell were 
 
350 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 but what would have naturally been expected of Colonel and 
 Mrs. Roosevelt. 
 
 In September, 1918, Theodore Roosevelt made an address 
 on Lafayette Day, part of which ran as follows: 
 
 "Lafayette Day commmemorates the service rendered to 
 America in the Revolution by France. I wish to insist with all 
 possible emphasis that in the present war, France, England, 
 and Italy and the other Allies have rendered us similar services. 
 . . . They have been fighting for us when they were fighting 
 for themselves. [My brother was only repeating in 1918 what 
 he had stanchly declared from the autumn of 1914.] Our army 
 on the other side is now repaying in part our debt. It is now 
 time and it is long behind time for .America to bear her full share 
 of the common burden. ... It is sometimes announced that 
 part of the Peace Agreement must be a League of Nations which 
 will avert all war for the future and put a stop to the need of 
 this nation preparing its own strength for its own defense. In 
 deciding upon proposals of this nature, it behooves our people 
 to remember that competitive rhetoric is a poor substitute for 
 the habit of resolutely looking facts in the face. Patriotism 
 stands in national matters as love of family does in private life. 
 Nationalism corresponds to the love a man bears for his wife 
 and children. Internationalism corresponds to the feeling he 
 has for his neighbors generally. The sound nationalism is the 
 only type of really helpful internationalism, precisely as in 
 private relations, it is the man who is most devoted to his own 
 wife and children who is apt in the long run to be the most satis- 
 factory neighbor. The professional pacifist and the professional 
 internationalist are equally imdesirable citizens. The Amer- 
 ican pacifist has in the actual fact shown himself to be the ally 
 of the German militarist. We Americans should abhor all wrong- 
 doing to other nations. We ought always to act fairly and gen- 
 erously by other nations, but, we must remember that our first 
 duty is to be loyal and patriotic citizens of our own nation. Any 
 such League of Nations would have to depend for its success 
 
War 
 
 351 
 
 upion the adhesion of nine other nations which are actually or 
 potentially the most powerful military nations; and these nine 
 nations include Germany, Austria, Turkey, and Russia. The 
 first three have recently and repeatedly violated and are now 
 actively and continuousily violating not only every treaty but 
 every rule of civilized warfare and of international good faith. 
 During the last year, Russia under the dominance of the Bolshe- 
 vist has betrayed her Allies, has become the tool of the German 
 autocracy and has shown such utter disregard of her national 
 honor and plighted word and her international duties that she 
 is now in external affairs the passive tool and ally of her brutal 
 conqueror, (Jermany. 
 
 "What earthly use is it to pretend that the safety of the 
 world would be secured by a League in which these four nations 
 would be among the nine leading partners? Long years must 
 pass before we can again trust in promises these four nations 
 make. Therefore, unless our folly is such that it will not depart 
 from us until we are brayed in a mortar, let us remember that 
 any such treaty will be worthless unless our own prepared 
 strength renders it unsafe to break it. . . . Let us support any 
 reasonable plan whether in the form of a League of Nations or 
 in any other shape wMch bids fair to lessen the probable number 
 of future wars and to limit their scope, but let us laugh at all 
 or any assertions that any such plan will guaranty Peace and 
 Safety to the foolish, weak, or timid Characters who have not 
 the will and the power to prepare for their own defense. Sup- 
 port any such plan which is honest and reasonable, but support 
 it as a condition to and never as a substitute for the policy of 
 preparing our own strength for our own defense. 
 
 "1 believe that this preparation should be, by the introduc- 
 tion in this country of the principle of universal training and 
 universal servicie, as practised in Switzerland, and modified, 
 of course, along the lines enacted in Australia, and in accordance 
 with our needs. There will be no taint of Prussian militarism 
 in such a system. It will merely mean to fit ourselves for self- 
 
352 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 defense and a great tiemociacy io whidb order, law, and liberty 
 are to prevaiL" 
 
 I have quoted this speech because I am under the impres- 
 sion that it was his first actual declaration of any attitude to- 
 ward a proposed League of Nations. In the early autumn of 
 1914 Theodore Roosevelt himself had written an article for 
 the New York Times syndicate in which he si^gested the pos- 
 sibility of a League of Nations, and the fact that he did make 
 that suggestion was frequently used after his death — and, I 
 think, In an unjustifiable manner — ^by the adherents of the Wil- 
 sonian League of Natioi^, with the desire to make the American 
 public feel that my brother would have been in favor of Mr. 
 Wilson's league. In every pronouncement in connection with 
 a tentative or possible league, my brother invariably laid stress 
 upon an absolutely Americanized type of association. I asked 
 him once about his article written in 1914, and he told me that 
 while still hoping that some good might come from a league or 
 association of nations, his serious study of world situations 
 during the Great War had made him less optimistic as to the pos- 
 sibility of reaching effective results through sudi a possible league 
 or association. 
 
 In another speech at about the same dme, he said, in char- 
 acteristic fashion: "1 frequently meet one of those nice gentry 
 in whom softness of heart has spread to the head, who say: 
 'How can we guaranty that everybody will love one another at 
 the end of the war?' The first step in guarantying it is to knock 
 Germany out!" 
 
 On September 12 my husband, Douglas Hobinson, the un- 
 failing friend and devoted brother of Theodore Hoosevelt, died 
 very suddenly, and my brother and sister-in-law hurried to 
 the old home on the Mohawk Hills which my husband had 
 loved so well. Putting themselves and their own grief for 
 Mr. Robinson and their own late personal sorrow entirely aside, 
 they did all that could be done by those we love to help me in 
 every way. My brother had always cared for Henderson House, 
 
War 
 
 353 
 
 its traditions and its custom^, and even in the midst of the sorrow 
 which now hung over the old place, he constantly Spoke to me 
 of his appreciation of its atmosphere. At the time of my hus- 
 band's death my eldest son came quickly back for two days from 
 the camp where he was tr ainin g, to his own home adjoining 
 mine, and his children were with us constantly during those 
 days, as were the children of my nephew and niece, Hall and 
 Margaret Rooseyelt, who occupied a Jittle cottage on my place. 
 I remember with what tender thoughtfulness my brother with- 
 drew himself on the Sunday afternoon after the funeral and 
 wrote a long letter to my second son, Monroe, a captain in thp 
 77th Division, then in the Argonne Forest in France. Just as 
 he had found comfort in his own little grandchildren during those 
 hard days at Dark Harbor, Maine, so, while facing the great 
 loss of his lifelong and devoted friend and brother-in-law, he 
 turned to an affectionate intercourse with the little ones of 
 the yoimgest generation of tie family, and on September 19, 
 when he had left me and gone to Oyster Bay, he writes: "I 
 think of you with tenderest love and sympathy all the time. 
 I cannot get oyer my delight in Helen and Teddy's darling 
 children; and I loved Margaret's brace of little strappers also. 
 Archie and Gracie have hired a little apartment in town." 
 His son Captain Archibald Roosevelt had returned from France 
 sorely wounded in both arm and leg, woimds and disabilities 
 which he bore with undaunted patience and courage. 
 
 On October 13, in response to a letter of mine in which I 
 told him that a Monsieur Goblet had wished the honor of dedi- 
 cating to him a poem, and at the same time had also asked the 
 privilege of translating my verses "To France" into the French 
 language, he writes to me: 
 
 "I have written to M. Goblet as you suggested; I feel that 
 you have every right to be reaUy pleased with what he says 
 about your poem — a noble little poem. 
 
 "How admirably Monroe has done. It is astonishing how 
 many men I meet who speak of Douglas [my husband] not only 
 
354 ^y Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 with deep affectionate regard but with a keen sense of the loss 
 of an exceptionally vigorous and powerful personality. Tell 
 Helen that I am really counting on that visit from her delight- 
 ful children. Their attitude touched me very much. I am much 
 concerned at what you tell me about gallant Bye's health. Give 
 her my dearest love." 
 
 My sister, Mrs. Cowles, was even more delicate than usual 
 that autimm, and I was with her at the time he wrote me the 
 above letter. His admiration for our older sister was unbounded, 
 and her splendid daimtless attitude toward the physical pain 
 she suffered, and her unbroken patience through suffering, never 
 failed to awake in him a responsive appreciation. 
 
 About that time President Wilson entered into a correspon- 
 dence with Germany of which my brother disapproved.- On 
 October 13 he dictated the following statement at his home on 
 Sagamore Hill: 
 
 "I regret greatly that President Wilson has entered into 
 these negotiations, and I trust they will be stopped. We have 
 announced that we will not submit to a negotiated Peace, and 
 under such conditions, to begin negotiations is bad faith with 
 ourselves and our Allies." 
 
 Again on October 25, in an open letter to his intimate friend 
 Senator Henry Cabot Lodge, "Let us," he says, "amongst other 
 things, dictate Peace by the hammering of guns, and not talk 
 about Peace to the accompaniment of the clicking of type- 
 writers." 
 
 Although the extracts which follow were written and pub- 
 lished several weeks later than the above quotations, I prefer 
 to give them in this connection, for Colonel Roosevelt's atti- 
 tude toward "Peace without victory" and a probable League of 
 Nations has been so often misrepresented. The Kansas City 
 Star, the newspaper with which Colonel Roosevelt had actual 
 connection during the last year of his life, published an editorial 
 after his death in answer to a remark made by Senator Hitch- 
 cock, chairman of the Foreign Relations Committee, in which 
 
War 355 
 
 he expressed the opinion that if Colonel Roosevelt were aUve, 
 "he would be found supporting the League of Nations as ar- 
 dently as President Wilson." 
 
 The Star denied this assertion, and said: 
 
 "From the beginning of the discussion of the proposed 
 League, The Star has been anxious to find practical features 
 which it could support as a real defense toward lasting peace. 
 In the last weeks of 1918, the matter was taken up with Colonel 
 Roosevelt who proved to be of the same mind. He recognized 
 the war weariness of the world, — a weariness in which he shared 
 to the full — ^and was anxious to further any practical step in 
 international organization. The difficulty was to find the prac- 
 tical basis. After his first editorial approving certain principles 
 of a League, a member of The Star staff discussed the matter 
 with him late in December at the Roosevelt Hospital. The 
 suggestion was made that in a contribution he might point out 
 certain things which a loosely organized League might accom- 
 plish. He replied that he could see so little that it might ac- 
 complish, in comparison with the rosy pictures that had been 
 painted of its possibilities, that he hesitated to write on that 
 line. 
 
 "Li the course of correspondence, he wrote under date of De- 
 cember 28th, 1918: 'In substance, or as our friends the dip- 
 lomats say, in number, I am in hearty accord with you. . . . 
 But remember that you are freer to write imsigned editorials 
 than I am when I use my signature. If you propose a little 
 more than can be carried out, no harm comes, but if I do so, it 
 may hamper me for years. However, I will do my best to write 
 you such an article as you suggest and then, probably, one on 
 what I regard as infinitely more important, viz., our business to 
 prepare for our own self-defense.' A few days later, ahnost on the 
 eve of his death, he wrote the following article printed in The 
 Star on January 13th. It was dictated at his home in Oyster 
 Bay on January 3rd, the Friday before his death, and his sec- 
 retary expected to take the typed copy to him for correction the 
 
356 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 following Monday, the very Monday of his death. The following 
 then, his final article, represents his matured judgment based 
 on protracted discussion and correspondence. It is of peculiar 
 importance as the last message of a man who, above every other 
 American of his generation, combined high patriotism, practical 
 sense and a positive genius for international relations." 
 
 By Theodore Rooseveix 
 
 " It is, of course, a serious misfortune that our people are not 
 getting a clear idea of what is happening on the other side. For 
 the moment, the point as to which we are foggy is the League 
 of Nations. We all of us earnestly desire such a league, only 
 we wish to be sure that it will help and not hinder the cause of 
 world peace and justice. There is not a young man in this coun- 
 try who has fought, or an old man who has seen those dear to 
 him fight, who does not wish to minimize the chance of future 
 war. But there is not a man of sense who does not know that 
 in any such movement if too much is attempted the result is 
 either failure or worse than failure. 
 
 " Would it not be well to begin with the league which we ac- 
 tually have in existence, the league of the Allies who have fought 
 through this great war ? Let us at the peace table see that real 
 justice is done as among these Allies, and that while the sternest 
 reparation is demanded from our foes for such horrors as those 
 committed in Belgium, northern France, Armenia, and the sink- 
 ing of the Lusitania, nothing should be done ia the spirit of mere 
 vengeance. Then let us agree to extend the privileges of the 
 league as rapidly as their conduct warrants it to other nations, 
 doubtless discriminating between those who would have a guid- 
 ing part in the league and the weak nations who would be en- 
 titled to the privileges of membership, but who would not be 
 entitled to a guiding voice in the coimdls. Let each nation re- 
 serve to itself and for its own decision, and let it clearly set forth 
 
War 
 
 357 
 
 questions which are non-justiciable. Let nothing be done that 
 will interfere with our preparing for our own defense by in- 
 troducing a system of universal obligatory military training 
 modelled on the Swiss plan. 
 
 "Finally make it perfectly clear that we do not intend to take 
 a position of an international Meddlesome Matty. The Amer- 
 ican people do not wish to go into an overseas war unless for a 
 very great cause and where the issue is absolutely plain. There- 
 fore, we do not wish to undertake the responsibihty of sending 
 our gallaiit young men to die in obscure fights in the Balkans 
 or in Central Europe, or in a war we do not approve of. More- 
 over, the American people do not intend to give up the Monroe 
 Doctrine. Let civilized Europe and Asia enforce some kind of 
 police sjrstem in the weak and disorderly countries at their 
 thresholds. But let the United States treat Mexico as our Bal- 
 kan peninsida and refuse to allow European or Asiatic powers 
 to interfere on this continent in any way that implies permanent 
 or semi-permanent possession. Every one of our Allies will with 
 delight grant this request if President Wilson chooses to make 
 it, and it will be a great misfortune if it is not made. 
 
 "I believe that such an effort made moderately and sanely 
 but sincerely and with utter scorn for words that are not made 
 good by deeds, will be productive of real and lasting interna- 
 tional good." 
 
 No one has the right to declare what Theodore Roosevelt 
 would or would not have done or said in connection with inter- 
 national problems as they arose, after his death, but every one 
 has the right to quote his own words, written under his own sig- 
 nature, and no words could be stronger than ihose in which he 
 made his plea for America First and for sound nationalism. But 
 I have voluntarily gone far afield from my actual narrative. 
 
 Events continued to move with astounding rapidity in that 
 autumn of 1918. My heart, like the heart of many another 
 mother, was wnmg by the news of the terrible fighting in the 
 Argonne Forest, and again wrung by alternate hopes and fears 
 
358 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 as the October days drew to a close. On the 27th day of Octo- 
 ber my brother celebrated his sixtieth birthday under the quiet 
 portal of his beloved home. As usual, I had sent to him my 
 yearly message, in which I always told him what that day meant 
 to me — the day when into this world, this confused, strange 
 world that we human beings find so difficult to understand, 
 there came his clarifying spirit, his magnetic personality, his 
 great heart, ready always to help the weak and lift the imfortu- 
 nate who were trying to lift themselves. I used to tell him that 
 as long as he lived, no matter what my own personal sorrows 
 were, Ufe would retain not only happiness but also glamour for 
 me. 
 
 In answer to my birthday letter, an answer written on his 
 very birthday in his own handwriting, he sends me the follow- 
 ing message. Intimate as it is, I give it in full, for in these 
 few short lines there seems to breathe the whole spirit of my 
 brother — the unswerving affection, the inimediate response to 
 my affection, and the wish to encourage me to face sorrows 
 that were hard to bear by reminding me of the rare joys which 
 I had also tasted. The maimer in which he joined his own 
 sorrows and joys to mine, the sweet compliment of the words 
 which infer that for him I still had youthfulness, and at the end 
 the type of humor which brought always a savor into his own 
 life and into the lives of those whom he closely touched, all were 
 part of that spirit. 
 
 Darung Pussie:— Sagamore Hill, October 27, 191S. 
 
 It was dear of you to remember my birthday. Darling, after 
 all, you and I have known long years of happiness, and you are 
 as young as I am old. 
 
 Ever yours, 
 
 Methxtsaleh's Understudy. 
 
XVIII 
 
 "THE QUIET QUITTING"* 
 
 For those who must journey 
 Henceforward alone, 
 Have need of stout convoy 
 Now Great-Heart is gone. 
 
 — Rudyard Kipling. 
 
 ON November ii, 1918, the armistice with Germany was 
 signed by General Foch. The war was over ! So many 
 years had passed since that fateful August i, 1914, that 
 at first the mind of the world was not attuned to peace. It 
 now seemed as incomprehensible that we should be at peace as 
 it had seemed impossible that we should be at war. Just before 
 the armistice was signed the United States had proved by the 
 ballots cast on Election day that the request of President Wil- 
 son that a Democratic Congress should be returned was not 
 in accord with the wishes of the American people. 
 
 Theodore Roosevelt, in a vivid speech at Carnegie Hall 
 just before Election day, had defined the issues of the future 
 in sharp, terse sentences, and had pleaded for preparedness for 
 peace (for the signs of those days showed that peace was not 
 far off), as he had pleaded so long ago for preparedness for war. 
 He was far from well on the night when he made that speech, 
 which was to prove the last that he would ever make in the hall 
 in which he had so often aroused his fellow citizens to a sense of 
 their civic and national duty. I was ill and could not be pres- 
 ent, but Mrs. Roosevelt told me afterward that she had been 
 much concerned for him, for a trouble which he thought was 
 sciatica in his leg was giving him intense pain. No one would 
 have suspected that fact, however, and many in the audience 
 
 *Title of a poem written on the death of Theodore Roosevelt by J. Fries, an 
 old veteran of the Civil War. 
 
 359 
 
360 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 told me afterward that that speech in Carnegie HaU was one 
 of the most convincing and thrilling appeals to patriotism ever 
 made by Theodore Roosevelt. 
 
 A few days later, always true to his interest in the colored 
 people, he made an address under the auspices of the Negro 
 Circle, and again I was to have been present and was prevented 
 by my condition of health. The following week when I was 
 better I telegraphed to Oyster Bay to ask him, if possible, to 
 lunch with me in New York, and to my distress received an 
 answer that he was not well enough to come to New York, but 
 would I come out and spend the night at Oyster Bay instead? 
 When I arrived at Sagamore Hill, I could not but feel worried 
 to find him in bed, and in much pain, which, however, he entirely 
 disregarded, and we had one of the most delightful evenings 
 that I ever remember spending with him. I had brought, think- 
 ing that it might interest him. Professor William Lyon Phelps's 
 book on "Modern Poetry," and during the time that I left his 
 room to take dinner with my sister-in-law, he had read so much , 
 and with such avidity that I felt on my return to his bedside 
 that he had assimilated the whole volume. In spite of pain and 
 politics, he threw himself into a discussion of modem American 
 poetry, taking up author after author and giving me rapid criti- 
 cisms or appreciations. He took much interest in both Edgar 
 Lee Masters and Vachel Lindsay, struck with the masterful 
 story-telling quality of the one and the curious rhythmic metre 
 of the other, and the strong Americanism of both. 
 
 From poetry we wandered across political fields together, 
 and he discussed the armistice which had just been signed, and 
 which he said he could not but regret from the standpoint of 
 the future. He felt that for all the days to come it would have 
 been better had Germany's army had to return to the Father- 
 land an insignificant and defeated fraction of its original strength, 
 and had the Allies entered Berlin as victors. This opinion, 
 although very strong, was not in any way advanced as a criti- 
 cism of the signing of the armistice, which he appeared to feel 
 had been inevitable. We talked until twelve o'clock that night 
 
"The Quiet Quitting" 361 
 
 and I have always felt grateful to my sister-in-law for having 
 arranged for me to have that delightful communion with my 
 brother. 
 
 There was no serious apprehension about his health when I 
 left the next morning, and the news that he had been taken to 
 the hospital the following week came as a shock and surprise 
 to me. All through those late November and December days, 
 when my brother was an invalid in Roosevelt Hospital (except 
 for a brief thirty-six hours when he was threatened with pneu- 
 monia, which trouble he threw off with his usual wonderful 
 vitality), we were not seriously apprehensive of any fatal out- 
 come to his iU health, and, indeed, at times during that deten- 
 tion in the hospital, he gave one the impression of a man fully 
 able to recuperate as he had always done before. Many were 
 the happy hours of quiet interchange of thought and affection 
 passed by me with my brother in the hospital. My sister-in- 
 law had given the order to the nurses that I should always be 
 admitted, and I came and went in the sick-room daily. Some- 
 times he was well enough to see visitors, and lines of people of 
 the most varied kinds were always waiting in the corridors in 
 the hope of a few words with him. I remember a long talk on 
 Aiderican literature to which I listened between Hamlin Gar- 
 land and himself, and in the middle of December he asked me to 
 telegraph our dear friend Senator Lodge to ask him to come on 
 and discuss certain political matters with him. The senator 
 spent two da3rs with me, and of those two days two whole mom- 
 mgs in the Colonel's room in the hospital. I was with them 
 during the first morning when they discussed the tentative 
 League of Nations, parts of which in problematical form were 
 already known to the public. The different reservations, in- 
 sisted upon later by Senator Lodge, when the League in its 
 eventual form was presented to the Senate of the United States, 
 were tentatively formulated at the bedside of the Colonel. I 
 do not mean that definite clauses in the League were definitely 
 discussed, but many contingencies of the document, contingen- 
 cies which later took the form of definite clauses, were discussed, 
 
362 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 and the future attitude toward such contingencies more or less 
 mapped out. He took great pleasure in these talks with 
 Senator Lodge, for, although not alwajrs in accord in some of 
 their political views, I know no one in whose stimulating 
 mentality my brother took keener pleasure; and on the fun- 
 damental issues of "America First," and of deep-rooted 
 patriotism and practical service to their country, they stood 
 invariably as one man. 
 
 One day — ^in fact, it was the last day that I sat with him in 
 the hospital — ^he seemed particularly bright and on the near 
 road to recovery. His left arm was stiU in bandages, but with 
 his strong right hand he gesticulated as of old, and sitting in 
 his armchair, his eyes clear and shining, his face ruddy and ani- 
 mated, he seemed to me to have lost nothing of the vigorous 
 and inspiring personality of earlier days. As usual, he shared 
 my every interest, reiterated his desire to have my little grand- 
 son, Douglas, and his sisters pay a visit in the holidays to Saga- 
 more Hill, told me delightedly how he would show Douglas 
 every trophy in the large north room where his trophies were 
 kept, and said that he wanted to know all the children intimately. 
 From family affairs we branched off to public affairs, and speak- 
 ing of the possibilities of the future, he said he knew much de- 
 pended upon his health, but that he recognized that even amongst 
 those who had been opposed to him in the past, there was now 
 a strong desire for him to be the Republican candidate for Presi- 
 dent in 1920. Alluding to his birthday so lately passed, he said: 
 "Well, anyway, no matter what comes, I have kept the prom- 
 ise that I made to myself when I was twenty-one." "What 
 promise, Theodore?" I asked him. "You made many promises 
 to yourself, and I am sure have kept them all." "I promised 
 myself," he said, bringing his right fist down with emphasis 
 on the arm of the chair, "that I would work up to the hilt until 
 I was sixty, and I have done it. I have kept my promise, 
 and now, even if I should be an invalid — I should not like to be 
 an invalid — ^but even if I should be an invalid, or if I should 
 die [this with a snap of his finger and thumb], what difference 
 
"The Quiet Quitting" 363 
 
 wQuld it make?" "Theodore," I said, "do you remember 
 what you said to me nearly a year ago when you thought you 
 were dying in this same hospital? You said that you were 
 glad it was not one of your boys that was dying at that time in 
 this place, for they could die for their country. Do you feel the 
 same way now?" "Yes," he said, "just the same way. I 
 wish that I might, like Quentin, have died for my country." 
 "I know you wish it," I answered, "but I want to tell you some- 
 thing. Every one of us — even those not as courageous, not 
 as patriotic, as you are — ^would, I feel sure, if our country were 
 in peril, be willing to bare our breasts to any bullet, could we, 
 by so doing, protect and save our country; but the trouble 
 is that the very people who, in peril, will give themselves, with 
 absolute disregard of the consequences, to their country's service, 
 fail, utterly, in times of peace, to sacrifice anything whatsoever 
 for their country's good. The difference, Theodore, between 
 you and the majority of us is that you not only are willing 
 and amdous to die for your country, but that you live for your 
 country every day of your life." 
 
 Within a few 6&y&, in fact on Christmas day, he was moved 
 to Oyster Bay, and at first seemed benefited by the change. On 
 Friday, January 3, I had arranged to go out and spend the day 
 with him, but a message came that he was not quite as comforta- 
 ble and would I wait until Monday, when he hoped to feel much 
 better and enjoy my visit. 
 
 On the Sunday he seemed better again, my sister-in-law 
 told me later, and enjoyed the whole day. He loved, passion- 
 ately, his home at Sagamore HUl, and the view from it over the 
 Sound on which he had rowed so often from boyhood up. He 
 loved the beauty of the shrubs and trees and imdulating wooded 
 hills, and he loved best of all the sense of home there, and the 
 happy family life which, even with a vacant chair, he knew would 
 continue. He expressed his content that evening to Mrs. 
 Roosevelt, in whose companionship he took the same delight 
 as when in their youth he had brought her to be the adored mis- 
 tress of that home. 
 
364 My Brother Theodore Roosevelt 
 
 Later in the evening he did not seem quite so well and she 
 sent for the doctor, who, after testing him in various ways, pro- 
 nounced his condition as very satisfactory. Relieved in mind, 
 Mrs. Roosevelt left him in charge of his faithful attendant, James 
 Amos, and shortly after she went out he turned to James and 
 said, "Put out the light." Once again his devoted wife came 
 to his bedside, thinking she heard him stir, but found him sleep- 
 ing peacefully. At four o'clock James detected a change in the 
 breathing, and realizing that aU was not well, called the trained 
 nurse. In a few moments, as Senator Lodge said later in his 
 great oration on his friend before the joint houses of Congress 
 in Washington, "Valiant-for-Truth passed over, and all the 
 trumpets sounded for him on the other side. " 
 
 That Sunday evening, just before Theodore Roosevelt told 
 his faithful servant to "Put out the light," there was a meeting 
 held in New York under the auspices of the American Defense 
 Society, at which he had hoped to be present. Not able to be 
 there in person, he sent them a letter, and at the moment that 
 he, at his beloved home on the hill, closed his eyes for the last 
 time, his faithful followers listened to his ringing exhortation 
 that there should be "no sagging back in Americanism." 
 The youth, twenty-three years of age, as an assemblyman at 
 Albany had come to his native city to make his maiden ad- 
 dress on that theme so near his heart, and the man, whose 
 life-work, replete with patriotism, was drawing to a close, sent 
 the same fervent message in his last hours to his fellow country- 
 men. All his life long he had been for those fellow countrymen 
 "the patriotic sentinel; pacing the parapet of the Republic, 
 alert to danger and every menace; in love with duty and ser- 
 vice, and always unafraid." — From Senator Warren G. Hard- 
 ing's address on " Theodore Roosevelt " before the Senate and 
 House of Ohio, late in January, 1919. 
 
 At six o'clock on that very Monday morning when I was 
 hoping to go to him and enjoy his dear companionship, the 
 
"The Quiet Quitting" 365 
 
 telephone-bell in my room rang and my sister-in-law's voice, 
 gentle and self-controlled, though vibrant with grief, told me 
 that he was gone, and that she wanted me to come at once to 
 Sagamore. It was not long before my eldest son and I were 
 climbing the familiar hill. As we neared the house, I could 
 not bring myself to believe that the great personality who had 
 always welcomed me there had passed away. 
 
 That afternoon Mrs. Roosevelt and I walked far and fast 
 along the shore and through the woodlands he had loved, and 
 on our return in the waning winter twilight we suddenly be- 
 came conscious that airplanes were flying low around the house. 
 In a tone of deep emotion Mrs. Roosevelt said: "They must be 
 planes from the camp where Quentin trained. They have been 
 sent as a guard of honor for his father." 
 
 That night as I stood alone in the room where my brother 
 lay, these b'nes came to me — I called them "Sagamore," that 
 old Indian word for which my brother cared so much. It 
 means chief or chieftain, and Sagamore Hill, the chieftain's 
 hill. 
 
 SAGAMORE 
 
 At Sagamore the Chief lies low — 
 
 Above the hill in circled row 
 The whirring airplanes dip and fly, 
 
 A guard of honor from the sky; — 
 Eagles to guard the Eagle. — ^Woe 
 
 Is on the world. The people go 
 With listless footstep, blind and slow;— 
 
 For one is dead — who shaU not die — 
 At Sagamore. 
 
 Oh ! Land he loved, at last you know 
 The son who served you weU below, 
 
 The prophet voice, the visioned eye. 
 Hold him in ardent memory. 
 
 For one is gone — ^who shall not go — 
 From Sagamore !