When the State convention met to nominate a State ticket, I was
selected to present the name of Colonel Roosevelt as a candidate
for governor. I have done that a great many times in conventions,
but have never had such a response. As I went on reciting the
achievements of Roosevelt, his career, his accomplishments, and
his great promise, the convention went wild with enthusiasm.
It was plain that no mistake had been made in selecting him as
the candidate.
During the campaign he made one of the most picturesque canvasses
the State has ever experienced. He was accompanied in his travels
by a large staff of orators, but easily dominated the situation
and carried the audience with him. He was greatly amused at a
meeting where one of his Rough Riders, who was in the company,
insisted upon making a speech. The Rough Rider said: "My friends
and fellow citizens, my colonel was a great soldier. He will make
a great governor. He always put us boys in battle where we would be
killed if there was a chance, and that is what he will do with you."
Roosevelt as governor was, as always, most original. New York
was an organization State, with Mr. Platt as leader, and with
county leaders of unusual ability and strength. Governors had
been accustomed to rely upon the organization both for advice
and support. Roosevelt could not bear any kind of control. He
sought advice in every direction and then made up his mind. This
brought him often in conflict with local leaders and sometimes
with the general organization.
On one occasion the State chairman, who was always accustomed
to be in Albany during the closing day of the legislature, to prevent
in the haste and confusion, characteristic of legislation at this
time, the passage of bad or unpopular measures, bade the governor
good-by at midnight, as the legislature was to adjourn the following
day with the understanding that lawmaking was practically over.
A large real-estate delegation arrived the next morning, with
the usual desire to relieve real-estate from taxation by putting
it somewhere else. They came with a proposition to place new
burdens upon public utilities. It was too late to formulate and
introduce a measure on a question so important, but there was
a bill which had been in the legislature most of the session and
never received serious consideration. The governor sent an
emergency message to the legislature, which had remaining only
one hour of life to pass that bill.
Next day the tremendous interest in public utilities was
panic-stricken because the bill was so crude that it amounted
to confiscation. The governor, when applied to, said: "Yes,
I know that the bill is very crude and unfit to become a law, but
legislation on this subject is absolutely necessary. I will do
this: I have thirty days before I must make up my mind to sign
the bill, or let it become a law without my signature. Within
that thirty days I will call the legislature together again. Then
you can prepare and submit to me a proper bill, and if we can
agree upon it, I will present it to the legislature. If the
legislature passes that measure I will sign it, but if it does
not, I will let the present measure, bad as it is, become a law."
The result of the threat was that a very good and timely act was
presented in regard to the taxation of public utilities, a measure
which largely increased municipal and State revenues. I know
of no governor in my time who would have had the originality and
the audacity to accomplish what he desired by such drastic operation.
Roosevelt's administration was high-minded and patriotic. But by
his exercise of independent judgment and frequently by doing
things without consulting the leaders, State or local, he became
exceedingly unpopular with the organization. It was evident that
it would be very difficult to renominate him. It was also evident
that on account of his popularity with the people, if he failed
in the renomination, the party would be beaten. So it was unanimously
decided to put him on the national ticket as vice-president.
The governor resisted this with all his passionate energy. He
liked the governorship. He thought there were many things which
he could do in another term, and he believed and so stated that
the vice-presidency was a tomb. He thought that nobody could be
resurrected when once buried in that sarcophagus.
The national Republican convention of 1900 was a ratification
meeting. President McKinley's administration had been exceedingly
popular. The convention met practically to indorse McKinley's
public acts and renominate him for another term. The only doubtful
question was the vice-presidency. There was a general accord
of sentiment in favor of Governor Roosevelt, which was only
blocked by his persistent refusal.
Roosevelt and I were both delegates at large, and that position
gave him greater opportunity to emphasize his disinclination.
A very intimate friend of his called upon me and begged that
I would use all my influence to prevent the colonel's nomination.
This friend said to me: "The governor's situation, officially and
personally, makes it impossible for him to go to Washington. On
the official side are his unfinished legislation and the new
legislation greatly needed by the State, which will add enormously
to his reputation and pave the way for his future. He has very
little means. As governor his salary is ample. The Executive Mansion
is free, with many contributory advantages, and the schools of
Albany admirable for the education of his six children. While in
Washington the salary of vice-president is wholly inadequate to
support the dignity of the position, and it is the end of a young
man of a most promising career."
I knew what the friend did not know, and it was that Mr. Roosevelt
could not be governor again. I was so warmly attached to him and
so anxious for his future that I felt it was my duty to force his
nomination if possible.
Governor Odell was chairman of the delegation for all convention
purposes, but in the distribution of honors I was made the presiding
officer at its meetings. The delegation met to consider the
vice-presidency. Several very eloquent speeches were made in
favor of Mr. Roosevelt, but in an emphatic address he declined
the nomination. He then received a unanimous vote, but again
declined. A delegate then arose and suggested that he reconsider
his determination, and several others joined most earnestly in
this request. Roosevelt was deeply affected, but, nevertheless,
firmly declined.
I knew there was a member of the delegation who had canvassed it
to secure the honor in case Roosevelt became impossible, and that
the next motion would be the nomination of this aspirant. So I
abruptly declared the meeting adjourned. I did this in the hope
that during the night, with the pressure brought to bear upon him,
the colonel would change his mind. In the morning Mr. Roosevelt
surrendered his convictions and agreed to accept the nomination.
In every convention there is a large number of men prominent in
their several delegations who wish to secure general attention
and publicity. As there were no disputes as to either candidate
or platform, these gentlemen all became anxious to make speeches
favoring the candidates, McKinley and Roosevelt. There were so
many of these speeches which, of course, were largely repetitions,
that the convention became wearied and impatient. The last few
were not heard at all on account of the confusion and impatience
of the delegates. While one orator was droning away, a delegation
from a Western State came over to me and said: "We in the extreme
West have never heard you speak, and won't you oblige us by
taking the platform?"
I answered: "The audience will not stand another address."
Roosevelt, who sat right in front of me, then remarked: "Yes, they
will from you. These speeches have pretty nearly killed the ticket,
and if it keeps up, the election is over, and McKinley and I are
dead." He then seized me and almost threw me on the platform.
The novelty of the situation, which was grasped by the delegates,
commanded attention. I recalled what Mr. Lincoln had once said
to me, defending his frequent use of anecdotes, and this is what
he said: "Plain people, take them as you find them, are more
easily influenced through the medium of a broad and humorous
illustration than in any other way."
I had heard a new story, a rare thing, and began with the narration
of it. Alongside the chairman sat Senator Thurston. He was
a fine speaker, very ornate and highly rhetorical. He never
indulged in humor or unbent his dignity and formality. I heard
him say in a sepulchral voice to the chairman: "Great God, sir,
the dignity and solemnity of this most important and historical
occasion is to be ruined by a story." Happily the story was a
success and gave the wearied audience two opportunities to hear
my speech. Their laughter was internal relief, and it was giving
the external relief of changing their positions for new and more
restful ones.
My friend, John M. Thurston, came to Philadelphia with a most
elaborate and excellent oration. Sitting in the audience on three
different occasions, I heard it with as much pleasure the last
time as I had the first.
When Mr. Roosevelt as vice-president came to preside over the
Senate, it was soon evident that he would not be a success. His
talents were executive and administrative. The position of the
presiding officer of the United States Senate is at once easy and
difficult. The Senate desires impartiality, equable temper, and
knowledge of parliamentary law from its presiding officer. But it
will not submit to any attempt on the part of the presiding officer
to direct or advise it, and will instantly resent any arbitrary
ruling. Of course, Mr. Roosevelt presided only at a few meetings
before the final adjournment. When Congress met again he was
President of the United States.
Senators and members soon found that there was a change at the
White House. No two men were ever so radically different in every
respect as McKinley and Roosevelt. Roosevelt loved to see the
people in a mass and rarely cared for private or confidential
interviews. He was most hospitable and constantly bringing visitors
to luncheon when the morning meetings in the executive offices had
closed, and he had not had a full opportunity to hear or see them.
Senator Hanna was accustomed to have a few of his colleagues of
the Senate dine with him frequently, in order to consult on more
effective action upon pending measures. President Roosevelt,
who knew everything that was going on, often burst into Hanna's
house after dinner and with the utmost frankness submitted the
problems which had arisen at the White House, and upon which he
wished advice or, if not advice, support--more frequently support.
Any one who attended the morning conferences, where he saw senators
and members of the House, and the public, was quite sure to be
entertained. I remember on one occasion I had been requested by
several friends of his, men of influence and prominence in New York,
to ask for the appointment of minister to a foreign government for
a journalist of some eminence. When I entered the Cabinet room
it was crowded, and the president knew that I was far from well,
so he at once called my name, asked how I was and what I wanted.
I told him that I had to leave Washington that day on the advice
of my doctor for a rest, and what I wanted was to present the name
of a gentleman for appointment as a minister, if I could see
him for five minutes.
The president exclaimed: "We have no secrets here. Tell it
right out." I then stated the case. He asked who was behind
the applicant. I told him. Then he said, "Yes, that's all right,"
to each one until I mentioned also the staff of the gentleman's
newspaper, which was one of the most prominent and powerful in
the country but a merciless critic of the president. He shouted
at once: "That settles it. Nothing which that paper wishes will
receive any consideration from me." Singularly enough, the paper
subsequently became one of his ardent advocates and supporters.
On another occasion I was entering his private office as another
senator was coming out of the Cabinet room, which was filled.
He called out: "Senator Depew, do you know that man going out?"
I answered: "Yes, he is a colleague of mine in the Senate."
"Well," he shouted, "he is a crook." His judgment subsequently
proved correct.
Mr. Roosevelt and his wife were all their lives in the social life
of the old families of New York who were admitted leaders. They
carried to the White House the culture and conventions of what
is called the best society of the great capitals of the world.
This experience and education came to a couple who were most
democratic in their views. They loved to see people and met and
entertained every one with delightful hospitality.
Roosevelt was a marvel of many-sidedness. Besides being an
executive as governor of a great State and administrator as
civil-service commissioner and police commissioner of New York,
he was an author of popular books and a field naturalist of rare
acquirements. He was also a wonderful athlete. I often had
occasion to see him upon urgent matters, and was summoned to his
gymnasium, where he was having a boxing match with a well-known
pugilist, and getting the better of his antagonist, or else
launching at his fencing master. The athletics would cease, to
be resumed as soon as he had in his quick and direct way disposed
of what I presented.
Horseback riding was a favorite exercise with him, and his experience
on his Western ranch and in the army had made him one of the best
riders in the world. The foreign diplomats in Washington, with
their education that their first duty was to be in close touch with
the chief magistrate, whether czar, queen, king, or president,
found their training unequal to keeping close to President Roosevelt,
except one, and he told me with great pleasure that though a poor
rider he joined the president in his horseback morning excursions.
Sometimes, he said, when they came to a very steep, high, and
rough hill the president would shout, "Let us climb to the top,"
and the diplomat would struggle over the stones, the underbrush
and gullies, and return to his horse with torn garments after
sliding down the hill. At another time, when on the banks of
the Potomac, where the waters were raging rapids the president
said, "We will go to that island in the middle of the river," and
immediately plunge in. The diplomat followed and reached the
island after wading and swimming, and with great difficulty returned
with sufficient strength to reach home. He had an attack of
pneumonia from this unusual exposure, but thereafter was the envy
and admiration of his colleagues and increased the confidence of
his own government by this intimacy with the president.
The president's dinners and luncheons were unique because of his
universal acquaintance with literary and scientific people. There
were generally some of them present. His infectious enthusiasm
and hearty cordiality drew out the best points of each guest.
I was present at a large dinner one evening when an instance
occurred which greatly amused him. There were some forty guests.
When they were seated, the president noticed four vacant chairs.
He sent one of his aides to ascertain the trouble. The aide
discovered an elderly senator standing with his wife, and another
senator and a lady looking very disconsolate. The aged senator
refused to take out a lady as his card directed or leave his wife
to a colleague. He said to the president's aide, who told him
that dinner was waiting and what he had to do: "When I eat I eat
with my wife, or I don't eat at all." The old gentleman had his way.
The president had one story which he told often and with much glee.
While he was on the ranch the neighbors had caught a horse thief
and hung him. They soon discovered that they had made a mistake
and hung the wrong man. The most diplomatic among the ranchers
was selected to take the body home and break the news gently to
his wife. The cowboy ambassador asked the wife: "Are you the
wife of ----?" She answered "Yes." "Well," said the ambassador,
"you are mistaken. You are his widow. I have his body in the
wagon. You need not feel bad about it, because we hung him
thinking he was the horse thief. We soon after found that he was
innocent. The joke is on us."
Mr. Roosevelt was intensely human and rarely tried to conceal
his feelings. He was to address the New York State Fair at
Syracuse. The management invited me as a United States Senator
from New York to be present. There were at least twenty thousand
on the fair ground, and Mr. Roosevelt read his speech, which he
had elaborately prepared, detailing his scheme for harmonizing
the relations between labor and capital. The speech was long and
very able and intended for publication all over the country. But
his audience, who were farmers, were not much interested in the
subject. Besides, they had been wearied wandering around the
grounds and doing the exhibits, waiting for the meeting to begin.
I know of nothing so wearisome to mind and body as to spend hours
going through the exhibits of a great fair. When the president
finished, the audience began calling for me. I was known practically
to every one of them from my long career on the platform.
Knowing Roosevelt as I did, I was determined not to speak, but
the fair management and the audience would not be denied. I paid
the proper compliments to the president, and then, knowing that
humor was the only possible thing with such a tired crowd, I had
a rollicking good time with them. They entered into the spirit of
the fun and responded in a most uproarious way. I heard Roosevelt
turn to the president of the fair and say very angrily: "You
promised me, sir, that there would be no other speaker."
When I met the president that evening at a large dinner given
by Senator Frank Hiscock, he greeted me with the utmost cordiality.
He was in fine form, and early in the dinner took entire charge
of the discussion. For three hours he talked most interestingly,
and no one else contributed a word. Nevertheless, we all enjoyed
the evening, and not the least the president himself.
I used to wonder how he found time, with his great activities and
engagements, to read so much. Publishers frequently send me
new books. If I thought they would interest him I mentioned
the work to him, but invariably he had already read it.
When my first term as senator expired and the question of my
re-election was before the legislature, President Roosevelt gave
me his most cordial and hearty support.
Events to his credit as president, which will be monuments in
history, are extraordinary in number and importance. To mention
only a few: He placed the Monroe Doctrine before European
governments upon an impregnable basis by his defiance to the
German Kaiser, when he refused to accept arbitration and was
determined to make war on Venezuela. The president cabled:
"Admiral Dewey with the Atlantic Fleet sails to-morrow." And
the Kaiser accepted arbitration. Raissuli, the Moroccan bandit,
who had seized and held for ransom an American citizen named
Perdicaris, gave up his captive on receipt of this cable:
"Perdicaris alive or Raissuli dead." He settled the war between
Russia and Japan and won the Nobel prize for peace.
Roosevelt built the Panama Canal when other efforts had failed
for five hundred years. As senator from his own State, I was in
constant consultation with him while he was urging legislation
necessary to secure the concession for the construction of the
canal. The difficulties to be overcome in both Houses seemed
insurmountable, and would have been so except for the marvellous
resourcefulness and power of the president.
When the Republican convention met in 1908, I was again delegate
at large. It was a Roosevelt convention and crazy to have him
renominated. It believed that he could overcome the popular
feeling against a third term. Roosevelt did not think so. He
believed that in order to make a third term palatable there must
be an interval of another and different administration. When
the convention found that his decision was unalterably not to
accept the nomination himself, it was prepared to accept any one
he might advise. He selected his secretary of war and most
intimate friend, William Howard Taft. Taft had a delightful
personality, and won distinction upon the bench, and had proved
an admirable administrator as governor of the Philippine Islands.
After Mr. Taft's election the president, in order that the new
president and his administration might not be embarrassed by his
presence and prestige, went on a two years' trip abroad.
During that trip he was more in the popular mind at home and
abroad than almost any one in the world. If he reviewed the German
army with the Kaiser, the press was full of the common characteristics
and differences between the two men and of the unprecedented
event of the guest giving advice to the Kaiser.
When he visited England he told in a public speech of his experience
in Egypt, and recommended to the English Government that, if they
expected to continue to govern Egypt, to begin to govern it.
All France was aghast and then hilarious when, in an address before
the faculties of Sorbonne, he struck at once at the weak point of
the future and power of France, and that was race suicide.