“No, no.” he murmurs weakly then closes his eyes; his voice is barely more than a whimper. “Dear God don’t let me die, I have so much to do…” The doctor is about to turn away when Long grabs at his arm and pulls himself upright in the bed. His grip has surprising strength and his eyes are suddenly ablaze, he is talking wildly, as though he sees something beyond the hospital walls. Instinctively the doctor tries to pull himself away as a nurse rushes over to ease Long back to a prone position, but the words seem to tumble from his mouth in a torrent as if he has no control over them and could not stop them if he tried.
“I can see the people out there doc, America’s poor, I can see their faces looking to me, they need me doc, they need me, they want to give me the power, they want to give me the power so I can help them...”
Long’s voice trails off, he is gasping for breath, Vidrine is shocked at this outburst, “Senator, you’ve got to try and relax...”
But the desperately sick man is merely gathering strength for a new verbal onslaught “...the sharecroppers in the cotton fields of the South, the debt–ridden farmers of the Great Plains, the unemployed factory workers tramping the streets of the North East, small businessmen all over the country pushed to the wall, pathetic elderly couples in countless towns and villages whose lifesavings disappeared when the banks collapsed, the fresh-faced young, eager to get an education, they look to me, they trust me, it’s them, them – they are the ones who will give me the power…”
Abruptly he lets go and falls back onto the pillow as if spent. Vidrine eases the Senator’s hand from his arm and quickly begins to prepare. He tells the nurse to call an anaesthetist, a pathologist and to begin taking blood tests of the various people in the room for a transfusion should one become necessary.
To his dismay, he finds that the operating theatre is filled with people. Associates, supporters and employees of the Senator throng the walls and the crowd stretches out into the hall. Vidrine wants to shoo them away and remarks to one of the nurses; “Here’s a man maybe dying and the room is full of politicians.” But in the end he decides the commotion that will accompany the act of making them leave will delay the operation still further and he lets them stay. He has to ask several of them to put out cigarettes.
As he begins, he glances at the clock on the wall. The cigarette smoke hangs around its face. The time is 11:20. The room is absolutely still as the mob of Huey Long’s cronies falls silent, craning their necks to see. There are two wounds, one beneath the ribs on the right side, the second in the lower back near the spine. Working swiftly, Vidrine opens the abdomen looking for damage to the internal organs, to his relief there seems to be little. The liver, gall bladder, and stomach are unharmed but there are two perforations in the colon, the bullet has gone through one fold and then another. To his surprise there seems to be only a small amount of blood in the abdominal cavity and a blood clot in the small intestine. He sutures the wounds in the colon then hesitates.
Something is wrong. The operation has lasted about forty minutes: he has found the wound, repaired the damage and he should be closing the abdomen but his hands remain still. There is too little evidence of bleeding to explain the symptoms. What has he missed?
Seeing him pause the anaesthetist looks up.
“Dr. Vidrine?” He shakes his head helplessly, he just cannot think. A nurse stands at his elbow, there is urgency in her stance.
“Yes, what is it?”
“Dr. Maes has arrived and has asked if he may assist you.” Vidrine is uncertain for a moment and then says; “Yes, yes of course. Ask him to come in.”
Dr. Urban Maes walks quickly to the operating table adjusting his surgical gloves while a nurse running behind him ties the cords of his gown. His eyes above the mask are intent; he barely glances at Huey’s cronies. In a low voice he questions Vidrine and looks up sharply when he learns that Vidrine has not catheterized the bladder. Quickly he inserts a catheter to find the bladder filled with blood: a renal duct to the kidney has been hit by the bullet. Maes works quickly and precisely to repair the duct. Vidrine can only look on, his gloved, bloodied hands held upwards before him, a gesture of helplessness.
He stands by as Maes closes the abdomen. The two physicians wash their hands side by side in the preparatory room. Maes glances towards the younger man, whose professional pride is hurt. He can see in the darkness of his frown and the obsessive way he runs the soap through his fingers again and again that he is angry with himself for missing so important a detail.
As Maes dries his hands he says; “You did good work here today, Doctor. If you hadn’t begun the procedure when you did, Senator Long might have been too far gone to save.”
Vidrine shakes his head, his voice is flat, an exhausted monotone. “I missed it. It was staring me in the face and I missed it. If you hadn’t arrived when you did and checked his bladder…” His words tail off as he finishes drying his hands.
Maes’ voice is conciliatory, forgiving. “You’ve had a difficult day Doctor. They tell me you witnessed the assassination attempt?”
“I don’t know as you can say I witnessed it. I was there alright, but when the shooting started I just hit the floor…” again his voice trails off, again Maes is kind,
“But you administered first aid, did you not? Come now Arthur, don’t be so hard on yourself. The Senator has a good chance of recovery and much of the credit for that must rest with you. Well done Doctor.” Maes reaches out a hand. Vidrine hesitates a moment then takes it. The men’s eyes meet for a second as Maes turns to leave. “Doctor Maes.”
He turns back. “Yes Doctor?”
“Thank you.” Maes smiles and walks away. [49]
CHAPTER 9: THE 1940 AMERICAN PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION
“I was born into politics a wedded man, with a storm for my bride.” Huey Long
From ‘The Roosevelt Era’ by Francis Greyson, Stevens and Samuel, 1973
Senator Huey Long’s recovery from the wounds he sustained on September 8th 1935 in a failed assassination attempt was a slow one. His injuries were severe and the time spent in recovery mellowed the man to the extent that he was forced to limit his forays into national politics and concentrate on his power base in his home state. The Kingfish (as Long was nicknamed) retained his seat in the Senate and while his brush with death did nothing to diminish his popularity, it almost certainly turned him into a more dangerous and more ambitious political opponent than he had previously been. There was a change in his style of rhetoric; famous for being abrasive, his tantrums during speeches became rarer and less extreme, though he still at times indulged in berating political opponents in the foulest language. To the surprise of all who knew him, he began to mention God more often in both his speeches and in his personal life, and it seems that his recovery helped to convince him that he was a man of destiny whom God had chosen to rescue America from all that ailed it.
By the autumn of 1936 Long was once more campaigning in the senate, but his radical rhetoric and antagonistic style meant that few of his proposed bills, resolutions or motions were passed. During one debate, a Republican senator told Long that “I do not believe you could get the Lord’s Prayer endorsed in this body.” Despite this he was undismayed, convinced that he was building a reputation among America’s poorer voters as a forceful standard bearer of their cause. He skilfully manipulated his many defeats and setbacks in the senate to assume the image of the trodden down crusader who alone could relate to and speak for America’s poor.
Long began to lay out the groundwork for his presidential campaign in the autumn of 1938. The kind of campaign that Huey wanted would be expensive, but he believed that he would have ample funding, for in addition to his revenues from Louisiana he had been promised help from an unforeseen quarter. Representatives of some of the largest banks and corporations in the country came to him in secret and promised substantial contributions. These ranged up to two million dollars if he would o
ust Roosevelt from the White House. Huey was amazed at the depth of their antipathy for the President and reminded them that he was more radical than Roosevelt. But, as he remarked to an associate, “They’re not for me either, but I don’t care about that so long as they give me the money. Why these conservatives ain’t no smarter than the ones in Louisiana.”
By early 1939 he was well enough and confident enough to once more intensify his war on the Roosevelt administration. The President’s policy makers were becoming alarmed at reports of the Kingfish’s growing strength. A poll conducted in secret by the Democratic National Committee indicated that Long, as a third-party “Share Our Wealth” presidential candidate, might draw off enough votes from FDR to throw the race to the Republicans. Reports that the GOP was offering illicit financial backing to Long’s campaign did nothing to assuage their fears. Long was heard to boast: “I can take him. He’s a phony. I can take this Roosevelt. He’s scared of me. I can out-promise him, and he knows it.” [50] It therefore did not come as a complete surprise when Long offered himself as a candidate at the 1940 Democratic convention. Long knew that the party was unlikely to turn its back on Franklin Roosevelt but he hoped to sway a substantial number of delegates from the South, and perhaps from some of the Plains States as well.
The convention itself was tumultuous, with rancour aplenty and massive press and radio coverage of Long and his ‘Share Our Wealth’ plan. But after Roosevelt’s inevitable nomination for a third term, Long announced the formation of a new party, The American National Party, that he described as free of Wall Street’s influence and dedicated to ending what he termed “Roosevelt’s Depression,” by redistributing the wealth of America. [51]
Long began making personal appearances in various American cities where he nearly always he spoke to large and enthusiastic crowds. His plan to form a new party dated back to before the assassination attempt; in fact, to before the previous presidential election. In 1935, the Kingfish had been uncertain about who would become the third party’s candidate. Then he had doubted that a Share Our Wealth ticket had a realistic chance of taking the White House. But though he still had occasional doubts, Huey had begun to trust in the idea of his God given destiny and firmly believed that at the age of forty-six, he would win the Presidency and save America.
Leaders of the Democratic Party grew increasingly apprehensive that Huey’s strategy might allow the Republicans to win. Another secret public-opinion poll authorised by the Democratic National Committee in the Spring, conducted for the purpose of determining how much of a threat Huey Long posed, found that approximately 11% of American voters preferred the Kingfish over Roosevelt or a Republican candidate. DNC chairman Farley believed that Long might garner as many as six million votes and thereby “…have the balance of power in the 1940 election”). “This country was never under a greater menace,” exclaimed New Dealer Hugh Johnson in a radio address on March 4, 1939, referring to the political alliance of Long and Father Charles Coughlin, a broadcaster who had given Long his support. [52] Roosevelt himself, having unleashed Internal Revenue investigators on Long, even considered placing Louisiana under federal military occupation. He shelved the idea because such action would probably have revived bitter memories of Reconstruction across the South. Nevertheless Roosevelt again had Long’s finances investigated by the Internal Revenue Service, again they failed to link Long to any misconduct and again a few of Long’s cronies were charged with income tax evasion.
In terms of foreign policy, Long was a convinced isolationist and even argued that The United States’ involvement in both the Spanish-American War and the First World War had been errors committed on behalf of American bankers. The GOP’s leaders almost certainly wanted an isolationist candidate in the 1940 election because Long seemed to have struck a chord with many voters on the issue of involvement in the war in Europe.
However, Wendell Willkie became the Republican candidate beating such isolationists as Robert Taft and Thomas Dewey. In his final appearance before the convention, he said in a speech that England now was “…standing in imminent fear of being crushed…” and called for Americans to rally to its defence with all aid short of war. “America, instead of being afraid,” he declared, “Should grow stronger and measure up to its true destiny.” [53]
But most Republicans held the opposite view. New York Congressman Hamilton Fish, grandson and namesake of Ulysses S Grant’s Secretary of State, invited fifty of his isolationist colleagues to Philadelphia and paid their expenses so they could testify before the platform committee. On Tuesday, June 25th, Fish signed full-page advertisements in a half-dozen leading newspapers, including the New York Times, urging Republican delegates to “Stop the March to War! Stop the Interventionists and Warmongers!”
Alf Landon, chairman of the platform committee’s foreign affairs subcommittee, worked to achieve a pro-Allies plank. He found it extremely difficult to overcome the committee’s hard-line isolationists, headed by Senator Henry Cabot Lodge Jr. of Massachusetts and Illinois and Senate nominee C. Wayland Brooks. In the end, the committee declared: “The Republican Party is firmly opposed to involving this Nation in foreign war. The Republican Party stands for Americanism, preparedness and peace. We accordingly fasten upon the New Deal full responsibility for our unpreparedness and for the consequent danger of involvement in war.” Landon was unable to insert an amendment that read: “We favour the extension to all peoples fighting for liberty, or whose liberty is threatened, of such aid as shall not be in violation of international law or inconsistent with the requirements of our own national defence.” [54] Britain could derive little encouragement from the GOP’s foreign policy plank.
Despite this, Willkie’s popularity with the party rank and file surged. Gallup described Willkie’s rise as the most astonishing phenomenon in the brief history of polling. One of the reasons for the Willkie boom was the European war and the fact that he, alone among the Republican contenders, was an advocate of aid to Britain. In late September, a Gallup poll apparently indicated that the majority of Americans favoured assisting England at the risk of war.
Willkie’s campaign however became notorious for its ineptitude. Republican leaders, already cool to his candidacy, complained about unanswered phone calls, letters, and telegrams. He nearly lost his position on the Wyoming ballot by failing to respond to GOP counsel Henry Fletcher’s letter with the official registration form. Furthermore, his staff seemed permanently on the verge of mutiny. Experienced political observers began to question Willkie’s competence. Raymond Clapper wrote in his column on September 20th that; “The Willkie campaign falls so short that grave doubts are raised about the kind of job he would do as President. Seldom has there been more chaos in a presidential campaign.”
At the beginning of September, Willkie was in a virtual dead heat with Roosevelt in the Gallup poll and actually led in projected electoral votes. But on the same day that Clapper’s column appeared, the Gallup poll reported that FDR had moved in front by ten points. In an off-the-record conversation with reporters, Willkie conceded that he would probably lose the election if the war in Europe continued. Another public opinion survey showed Willkie winning the election by 5.5% if the war ended, but losing by 18 percentage points if there was a possibility the United States might enter it and the majority of the Willkie press corps thought his chances were fading fast. Significantly, these polls ignored Huey Long.
Willkie seemed unable to find a central theme for his campaign. Republican leaders urged an all-out offensive on FDR and the New Deal, but Willkie dismissed this as being too negative. At a chance meeting in the barber shop of the Waldorf-Astoria in New York, James A. Farley pressed him to emphasize the third term as his major issue. Beyond quoting the founding fathers a few times, Willkie chose not to argue the question of a third term. [55]
Walter Lippmann (the Herald Tribune Columnist) advised that Foreign policy was the fundamental issue. “Your opportunity arises out of the fac
t that people feel insecure and want the assurance of a strong, competent man,” he wrote Willkie. “Roosevelt is not a strong, competent man and that is where you can beat him if you take the hard line and summon the people rather than vaguely trying to please them all.” At the start of the campaign, Willkie followed this advice and attacked FDR as too soft, an appeaser.
Willkie’s main differences with FDR were in domestic affairs. He believed that government should not be in competition with private enterprise, that federal regulations should be rolled back to provide incentives for industry, help create more jobs and stimulate the economy. He believed that private capitalism would be sufficient to revive the economy where supporters of the New Deal believed that private capitalism alone was inadequate to the task and must be accompanied by public spending.
In later years, Willkie would be praised as a man who would rather be right than President of the United States, but when confronted with a test of principle in the fall of 1940, he bowed to expediency. From the GOP convention on, Republican leaders were urging him to condemn Roosevelt as a warmonger, but he continued to refrain from withholding bipartisan support. However, as his popularity began to slip he became less inflexible in his principles and more amenable to compromise. Abruptly he reversed his position and began echoing the isolationist line.
At Shibe Park, in Philadelphia, Willkie accused Roosevelt of causing “…a drift toward war.” He then went on to say; “We must stop that drift toward war. We must stop that incompetence. Fellow Americans, I want to lead the fight for peace.” In a nationally broadcast speech, he alleged that Roosevelt had made covert pacts which would commit the nation to war. “We are being edged toward war by an administration that is careless in speech and action,” he said. “We can have peace but we must know how to preserve it. To begin with, we shall not undertake to fight anybody else’s war. Our boys shall stay out of Europe.”
The Peace of Amiens Page 9
