vw'/ V^^\-'' v"^.^^^>'' ^'^^7^'\/ "-^^^•'%o'^ V^^\/ % *'- ■ ' iy O * • , 1 • «0 ''Co. *• « n ' AV" * "^^ ^°^^. THEODORE ROOSEVELT tudios, New York Theodore Roosevelt 1903 making men of all sections feel that he was peculiarly an expression of their own dreams and aspirations. He was, in fact, at home in every part of the land, and through his Northern birth, his Southern ancestry, his residence in the West and his deep understanding of the Western point of view, was peculiarly a son of the whole country. His conduct of domestic as well as foreign affairs was fearless and vigorous. He saw clearly that the question of most vital importance before the country was the control and strict regulation of the great corporations. In the famous North- ern Securities' merger he presented a test case to the Supreme Court which ultimately opened the way for the prosecution of the other great corporations which had violated the Sherman Anti-trust Law. His fight against the conserva- tive forces of both parties on this question, and kindred matters of railroad regulation, was in- tensely bitter and extended throughout his period in ofiice. His dealings with labor were equally far- sighted and firm. He favored combinations of labor as he favored combinations of capital, but stood as firmly against lawlessness on the part of laboring men as he stood against it on the part of capitalists. "At last," said one of the "labor men" at lunch- eon one day, "there is a hearing for us fellows." [31} "Yes," cried the President emphatically. "The White House door, while I am here, shall swing open as easily for the labor man as for the capi- talist, and no easier T He was able to settle the anthracite coal strike in October, 1902, because he understood the points of view of both sides and was known by both as a just rnan of solid convictions whom threats could not swerve from his determined course. His attitude in foreign affairs, as in domestic, was frank, clear-cut and firm, being based on the same principles which governed his personal relations with his fellowmen. He treated nations when they were bullies in the same direct man- ner he had used with certain "bad men" in Dakota. His vigorous handling of Germany, late in 1902, met a covert challenge of the Monroe Doctrine in a manner that left nothing to the Kaiser's imagination. His hint to England on the Alaska boundary question — "Arbitrate if you want to, but there is the map" — was equally unambiguous and fruitful of international good- will. He settled the century-old Panama ques- tion by swift and decisive action on the instant when such action was needed, and was digging the Canal before his opponents in Congress had recovered from their horror at his temerity. His reputation for integrity and candor, combined with an instant readiness to act, solved more than one knotty international problem before it reached a crisis, and gave him power, when the governments of Europe found themselves impo- tent and afraid to intervene in the Russo-Japa- nese conflict, to thrust his vigorous personality between the contestants and by a liberal "knock- ing of heads right and left," literally to force peace. He found the government of the United States, when he took up the reins, in the position among world powers, of a new boy in school; he left it firmly established in the first rank, admired and feared, its favor eagerly sought after, its citizen- ship respected in the remotest corners of the globe. In domestic affairs his impress was no less remarkable. At a critical moment in the con- flict between capital and labor he was able to exercise the mediating influence which averted the deep bitterness which that conflict had en- gendered in other nations, and to guide both par- ties away from the extremes whose final meeting place is revolution. He fought the battle of de- mocracy against impending plutocracy; he in- sisted that the rights of the public to the natural resources of the country outweighed private rights, and fought men of all parties until his word prevailed and found expression in the con- servation movement; above all, he kindled men and women, and especially young men, to an ardor for public service such as men had not 133} known before in times of peace. He trumpeted the call of national and civic duty, and the con- science of the country awoke and responded. [34] T V THEODORE ROOSEVELT left the Presi- dency in March, 1909, and a month later sailed for East Africa. There for a year he hunted big game — lion and elephant, rhinoceros, giraffe, ostrich and hippopotamus, meeting strange peoples and perilous adventures. He emerged from the jungle at Khartoum in April, 19 10, to be greeted by a cheer of welcome that echoed around the world. His journey down the Nile and through Europe was a triumphal progress extraordinary in its evidence of admiration anci wonder. He made formal addresses before half a dozen learned bodies, stirring up a hornet's nest in Cairo by his denunciation of a recent political assassination, another in Rome by re- fusing to allow his freedom of action to be cir- cumscribed by the papal authorities, a third in London by criticizing England's government of Egypt. x'\t Christiania he received the Nobel Prize, awarded to him the year previous for his efforts in bringing about the Peace of Ports- mouth; in Berlin he reviewed, at the Kaiser's side, the crack troops of the Empire. Altogether, it was a memorable journey. He returned to the United States to find the Party, which he had left united and vigorous after its recent victory, disrupted by bitter fac- tional strife, and slipping rapidly toward disas- ter. In the struggle between the progressive and the reactionary elements he could not stand to one side in dignified neutrality. He espoused the progressive cause and in the campaign of 1910 fought with all the energy that was in him for the overthrow of boss-rule in New York State. He was decisively beaten after a contest that was bitter in the extreme. His enemies shouted that he was politically dead. He withdrew to Sagamore Hill and his editorial work on the staff of the Outlook^ and, for the moment, let his foes rejoice. But the struggle into which he had thrown, with such seeming recklessness, the stake of his great reputation, had been scarcely checked by the mid-term defeat. He was urged to be a can- didate for President on the Republican ticket against President Taft, who was backed by the party machine and the so-called "stand-patters." He did not want to make the race, and it was against his own best judgment that he was per- suaded at last to enter the contest. Once in, however, he fought with his whole being. One state after another, in the primary campaign, pledged its delegates to him. But the party machine was in the hands of his enemies, and in the convention held in Chicago in June they [36] used it relentlessly and without scruple to effect his defeat. The progressives, refusing to vote, marched out of the convention hall, leaving a disgruntled majority to carry through its pro- gram of disaster. A new Progressive Party sprang into being overnight and in x'\ugust, amid scenes of the wildest enthusiasm, mingled with a devo- tion to a high cause absent hitherto from politi- cal conventions, nominated Theodore Roosevelt for President. The ensuing campaign was fierce and rancor- ous. At the height of it Roosevelt was shot by a fanatic in Milwaukee as he was entering an auto- mobile on his way to a mass-meeting he was about to address. He insisted on making his speech, went to the hospital, and after two weeks was again on his feet, campaigning. In the three- cornered election in November he polled over four million votes, but was defeated by Wood- row Wilson, the Democratic candidate. Once more his enemies rejoiced and said that he was "done for." He took his defeat with the same good grace and humor with which he had taken victory in the past, returned to his editorial work, wrote his Autobiography, and accepted the popular verdict that he was out of politics. In the autumn of 19 13 he went to South America to address numerous learned bodies there and to make an exploring expedition into the jungles of Brazil, to which he had long [37] looked forward. His journey from capital to capital in South America was a repetition of his triumphal progress through Europe. His plunge into the Brazilian wilderness, on the other hand, was infinitely more hazardous than the African trip. For months he and his expedition were completely out of touch with the outside world. He discovered a hitherto unknown river, vaguely indicated on existing maps as the River of Doubt, and at imminent risk of disaster explored the nine hundred miles of its course. The trip was indescribably arduous and full of peril; his life was constantly in danger in the treacherous rapids and along the fever-infested banks; sav- age Indians shot their poisonous arrows unseen out of the dark tangle. One after another, his canoes were crushed in the rapids; one after another his men sickened. Finally he himself was laid low with fever, and for forty-eight hours was deadly ill. He pleaded with his son Kermit, who was with him, and with the Brazilian of- ficers who had been assigned to his expedition by the government, to leave him behind and push on, in order that the whole expedition might not suffer the catastrophe which was always imminent, of death by starvation. His companions refused to leave him. By a great effort of will he raised himself from his sick-bed and plunged on with them from rapicis to rapids, until at last, when disaster seemed inevitable, a [39} post on the river bank with the carved initials of some rubber trader, indicated that they were on the outskirts of civiUzation once more. For weeks thereafter Roosevelt lay tossing with fever on the bottom of the canoe as they drifted down the placid reaches of the river. The Brazilian government, in honor of his exploit, christened the river he had found the Rio Teodoro. [4°} VI HE returned to his own country in May, 1 914. Three months later the World War broke out. Roosevelt saw at once that America could not remain untouched by it. He pleaded for preparedness; he pleaded for an international tribunal backed by force to execute its decrees. His pleas were met with a tumult of abuse. He did not let it swerve him from his course. When the Lusitania was sunk, he pleaded for instant action— not a declaration of war, but a trade embargo against Germany and open ports for the ships of the Allies. At the outbreak of the brief and inglorious war with Mexico he offered to raise a division of troops. His offer was re- fused. Meanwhile his demand for national pre- paredness began to stir the country to a sense of the gravity of its position. Domestic issues faded into the background; the questions which had split the Republican party in 19 12 were superseded by other questions, at the moment more vital, which served to re-unite the oppos- ing groups. In the national convention of the Progressive party he was nominated for Presi- dent; in the Republican party the feeling was widespread that he should be the Republican [41} candidate also. The bitterness engendered by the schism of 191 2, however, prevented his nomi- nation. Justice Hughes was named. Roosevelt forthwith refused the Progressive nomination and gave his support to the Republican candi- date. In the campaign that followed he pleaded that the slogans of the Democratic party, ''He kept us out of war' and ''Safety First!" be met by the Republican party with the rallying cry of "Duty First!" But the counsels of timidity pre- vailed, and the Republican party, rejecting the opportunity to win or lose gloriously, went down to a defeat which had no solace in it. War with Germany came as he had prophesied it must inevitably come if the United States were to keep a shred of self-respect. He offered again to raise a division of troops. Men from all over the country volunteered their services, until 250,- 000 men had recorded their desire to go under his leadership to France. Congress passed a bill authorizing the creation of two divisions ot vol- unteers. The President refused his consent. Roosevelt, forbidden to fight in the held, grimly and in bitter disappointment, accepted the de- cision and flung himself whole-heartedly into the work that lay at hand. During the months that followed no good cause called to him in vain. Here and there over the country he spoke for the Liberty Loan Campaigns, for the Red Cross and other rehef agencies; and in the pages [42] of the Kansas City Star and the Metropolitan Magazine fought week after week for speed in mihtary preparation, for an honest facing of facts, for whole-hearted and unreserved partici- pation in the war by the side of the AlHes. He met complacency on the part of the Administra- tion with words of thunder drawn from Scrip- ture; he met what seemed to him the collusion of high officials with the sinister forces of the yellow press with sentences that stung and burned. His own personal life and public career had always equally been determined from day to day by certain clear and unalterable princi- ■ pies, acting on the clearly discerned and unal- terable facts of experience. Rightly or wrongly he was convinced that the course of the x'\dmin- istration was determined by theories yielding not to facts at all but only to political conve- nience. To him, therefore, the battle admitted of no compromise. The issue was not political, but moral. It was a fight to the death; and to the death he fought it. The fever he had contracted in Brazil returned now and again. For weeks he travelled and made public addresses in spite of it. In February, 191 8, however, he became dangerously ill; was oper- ated upon; recovered; returned to his full ac- tivity, and was again laid low. His illness scarcely abated his ceaseless activity, and in nowise weakened the terrifying force of his fighting [43] 0^ spirit. In the autumn he was again forced to take to the hospital. He returned to Sagamore Hill in time to spend Christmas with his family. The inflammatory rheumatism which had caused him much pain began to give way. He seemed on the road to recovery. He made plans for a hunt after devil-fish in the spring. From his sick-bed he fought his battle for realism and candor, and directed the policy of the Republican Party, of which he was once :^^ore the recognized and undisputed leader. At midnight on January 5th, he wrote a memo- randum for the Chairman of the Republican National Committee. Four hours later, quietly in his sleep, with no other word, the man of many battles and much tumult slipped out of the company of living men. He was buried on a hillside in Oyster Bay; but with new potency his spirit cried to the hearts of his countrymen. [44] WITH THE TIDE Somewhere I read, in an old book whose name Is gone from me, I read that when the days Of a man are counted, and his business done. There comes up the shore at evening, with the tide. To the place where he sits, a boat — And in the boat, from the place where he sits, he sees. Dim in the dusk, dim and yet so familiar, The faces of his friends long dead; and knows. They come for him, brought in upon the tide, To take him where men go at set of day. Then rising, with his hands in theirs, he goes Between them his last steps, that are the first Of the new life^and with the ebb they pass. Their shaken sail grown small upon the moon. Often I thought of this, and pictured me How many a man who lives with throngs about him. Yet straining through the twilight for that boat Shall scarce make out one figure in the stern. And that so faint its features shall perplex him With doubtful memories — and his heart hang back. But others, rising as they see the sail Increase upon the sunset, hasten down. Hands out and eyes elated; for they see Head over head, crowding from bow to stern, Repeopling their long loneliness with smiles, The faces of their friends; and such go forth Content upon the ebb tide, with safe hearts. But never To worker summoned when his day was done Did mounting tide bring in such freight of friends As stole to you up the white wintry shingle That night while they that watched you thought you slept. Softly they came, and beached the boat, and gathered In the still cove under the icy stars. Your last-born, and the dear loves of your heart, And all men that have loved right more than ease. And honor above honors; all who gave Free-handed of their best tor other men, And thought their giving taking: they who knew Man's natural state is effort, up and up — All these were there, so great a company Perchance you marveled, wondering what great ship Had brought that throng unnumbered to the cove Where the boys used to beach their light canoe After old happy picnics — But these, your friends and children, to whose hands Committed, in the silent night you rose And took your last taint steps — These led you down, O great American, Down to the Winter night and the white beach. And there you saw that the huge hull that waited Was not as are the boats ot other dead, Frail craft for a brief passage; no, for this Was first of a long line of towering transports. Storm-worn and ocean-weary every one. The ships you launched, the ships you manned, the ships That now, returning from their sacred quest With the thrice-sacred burden of their dead. Lay waiting there to take you forth with them, Out with the ebb tide, on some farther quest. Edith Wharton Hyeres, January 7, 1919. REPRINTED FROM THE SATURDAY EVENING POST BY PERMISSION OF THE CURTIS PUBLISHING COMPANY W60 jp-*^