THE COWBOY PRESIDENT

by Michael F. Blake

  At the same time, in a small town in Germany, Margarete Steiff made plush dolls, including a bear. In 1903, an American buyer saw Steiff ’s bears at the Leipzig Fair and placed an order for three hundred of them. (In 1903, Steiff ’s produced 12,000 stuffed bears. By 1907, they had sold 974,000.10) More than a hundred years after its inception, the teddy bear is still popular, and provides comfort and joy to young and old alike.

  Theodore’s contact with the bear wasn’t limited to editorial cartoons or stuffed dolls. The infant motion picture industry also found Theodore’s bear incident, and hunting in general, material for a good-natured spoof. Terrible Teddy, the Grizzly King was released in 1901, before he assumed the presidency. Produced by Edison Manufacturing Company under the direction of Edwin S. Porter,11 the film was based on a series of cartoon panels that appeared in the New York Journal and Advertiser on February 4, 1901. The Edison Company’s catalog described the one-minute-long film as a “burlesque” of Theodore hunting mountain lions in Colorado.

  The scene opens in a very picturesque wood. Teddy with his large teeth is seen running down the hill with his rifle in hand, followed by his photographer and press agent. He reconnoiters around a large tree and finally discovers the mountain lion. He kneels on one knee and makes a careful shot. Immediately upon discharge of his gun, a huge black cat—a domestic breed—falls from the tree, and Teddy whips out his bowie knife, leaps on the cat, and stabs it several times, then poses while his photographer makes a picture and the press agent writes up the thrilling adventure. A side-splitting burlesque.12

  The “Teddy” Bears (Edison, 1907), also directed by Porter, was advertised as “a laughable satire on the popular craze.” The fourteen-minute film begins as a variation of Goldilocks and the Three Bears. One would assume the film would be suitable for children; however, the movie abruptly shifts from the inside of the cabin to an exterior snow-covered landscape, with the three bears (adults in costume) chasing the young girl, with the intention of harming her. Suddenly, like the cavalry coming to the rescue, an actor resembling Theodore shows up with his rifle, kills the two adult bears, and captures the baby bear.

  The trade paper Variety commented that the film begins as an enjoyable piece, but noted that the ending, with Theodore’s character killing the bears, would cause children to “rebel against this position.” Stating there was “considerable comedy” in the chase through the snow, “the live bears seemed so domesticated that the deliberate murder . . . left a wrong taste of the picture as a whole,”13 Oddly, The “Teddy” Bears proved to be very popular with audiences, doing great business in the bigger cities.

  Despite his popularity with the public, Theodore had his doubts about winning a second term when he ran in 1904. His worries were for naught, as he received 56 percent of the popular vote, while his opponent, Alton Parker, managed a weak 38 percent. (Theodore won the Electoral College vote by 336 to 140.) His daughter, Alice, noted in her diary, “An unprecedented landslide. It is all colossal.”14 Addressing reporters late in the evening, Theodore announced he would not seek another term.

  It was a statement he would live to regret.

  One of many people who actively campaigned on his behalf was William Masterson, better known as “Bat” Masterson, an Old West icon. As a buffalo hunter he took part in the famous standoff with the Comanche at Adobe Walls in 1874, and later served as sheriff of Ford County, Kansas (which included Dodge City), for three years. He was friends with Wyatt Earp (a Dodge City deputy marshal at the time), Luke Short, Bill Tilghman, and other notable Western icons. By the mid-1880s, he was working as a gambler in Colorado, eventually running a saloon in Denver. An avid fan of boxing, he became involved with a boxing association in Colorado.

  Bat’s popularity as a true Westerner attracted Theodore like a moth to a flame. Newspapers were always quick to exploit Bat’s handiness with a gun, leaving a slew of bodies in his wake. Of course, it was all hyperbole, but the public ate it up, and it made Bat a celebrity. During Theodore’s time as police commissioner, Jay Gould, one of the original “robber barons,” had asked that his son, George, be given protection after receiving death threats. Theodore contacted Bat in Denver, asking if he’d like to serve as the young man’s bodyguard. Bat quickly jumped at the offer and headed east. While watching over Gould’s son, he also fraternized with the wealthy and engaged in high-stakes gambling. Once the man who had threatened George Gould was arrested, Bat returned to Denver, but soon saw his prestige as a gambler lose its luster due to reform-minded civic leaders. He moved to New York City in 1902, where he found employment as a sportswriter for the New York Morning Telegraph.

  In 1904, Bat was invited to the White House. Theodore asked him about his days in the West, and shared their mutual interest in boxing. “I guess the President was glad to see me,” Bat told reporters, “knowing that I had no politics to talk about and no favors to ask.”15 Theodore offered Bat the position of US marshal in the Indian Territory, but Masterson turned it down. Citing his personal history, Bat said that some kid wanting a reputation would “crawl around to a gun play and I’d have to send him over the jump.”16 Another reason, which he didn’t reveal to Theodore, was that Bat simply had no interest in leaving New York City.

  Bat’s close friend, Alfred Lewis, suggested to Theodore that he appoint Bat as a deputy US marshal in New York City. Theodore was receptive but cautious. His assigning Ben Daniels to a federal position had caused him some public embarrassment, and he wanted to be certain not to repeat that headache with Bat. He asked Lewis if Bat could read and write. Lewis quickly forwarded a letter that Bat had written, noting “that the education of our homicidal friend has not been neglected.”17

  After his 1904 election, Theodore asked his attorney general, William H. Moody, if he could find a deputy marshal’s position for Bat in New York City. William Henkel, the US marshal for the Southern District of New York, agreed, and requested permission for an additional office of deputy US marshal with a salary “not to exceed $2,000 per annum.” The new position, assigned to the US Attorney’s office, required the appointee to take charge of the grand jury room when it was in session. Henkel nominated W. B. Masterson for the position, noting he was “most highly endorsed and in every way worthy to fill this office in a most credible manner.”18

  On February 2, 1905, Theodore wrote to Bat with some fatherly advice relating to his new job:

  It was a pleasure to get you the appointment as Deputy Marshal. Now you have doubtless seen that there has been a good deal of hostile comment upon it in the press. I do not care a snap of my fingers for this; but I do care very much that you shall not by any act of yours seem to justify this criticism.

  I want you not only to be a vigilant, courteous and efficient officer, always on hand, always polite to everyone, always ready for any duty that comes up, but I also want you to carry yourself so that no one can find in any action of yours cause for a scandal or complaint.

  You must be careful not to gamble or do anything while you are a public officer which might afford opportunity to your enemies and my critics to say that your appointment was improper.19

  Bat’s appointment was announced in the New York Times on February 7, 1905, noting that Masterson “gave up killing for the sake of orderly government.” The article was quick to add that he had killed “a dozen or more lawless characters.” No doubt this kind of press made Bat groan with weariness. He was tired of being labeled a “man-killer” with a gun that had notches on the grip. He later told the New York Times, “I haven’t done anything like what’s been printed. I can’t say I like it much either; it seems a little like ridicule to me, and no man likes ridicule.”20

  As far as his duties as a deputy marshal, it seems all Bat did was show up to collect his paycheck and little else.

  Another Westerner Theodore held in high esteem was Ben Daniels. Born in Illinois and raised in Kansas, Daniels had headed to Texas as a teenager to work on cattle drives before taking up buffalo hunting on the S
outhern Plains. Drifting to Montana Territory in 1879, Daniels fell in with the notorious horse thief “Dutch Henry” Born, and was arrested for stealing US Army mules. Taken into custody by the military, he managed to escape, shooting two soldiers in the process. (One of them, a lieutenant, later died.) Daniels landed in Dodge City, Kansas, where an arrest warrant caught up with him, and Ford County sheriff Bat Masterson took him into custody in early September 1879. Sentenced to three and a half years in the Wyoming Territorial Prison, Daniels was released four months early because of his good behavior.21

  Between 1883 and 1898, Daniels served as a lawman in such Western towns as Dodge City, Lamar, and Cripple Creek, as well as working as a gambler. When the call went out for volunteers to fight in the Spanish-American War, Daniels, like other Westerners, quickly joined up. This is how Daniels and Theodore came to know each other. In The Rough Riders, Theodore described Daniels as “a very large, hawk-eyed man,” noting his lower right ear lobe was missing, which Daniels claimed was “bitten off ” in a fight. “Naturally, he viewed the dangers of battle with a philosophic calm,” Theodore wrote. “Such a man was, in reality, a veteran even in his first fight, and was a tower of strength to the recruits in his part of the line.”22 The two men remained friends through the years, and once Theodore took over the president’s office, Daniels approached him about the position of US marshal in Arizona Territory.

  A Secret Service memo indicated that Daniels may have had a questionable background relating to his gambling interests; however, Attorney General Philander Knox gave Theodore a positive recommendation. Stories quickly circulated, real and concocted, about Daniels’s background. His profession as a gambler and saloon owner was quickly condemned by religious leaders, as were the lurid tales (which were untrue) of his deeds as a deadly lawman in the old days of the West. After his Senate confirmation on January 21, 1902, Theodore reminded Daniels that his approval had come about because Theodore had given his personal word that Daniels was an honest and courageous man. As he had done with Bat Masterson, Theodore cautioned Daniels that he must “feel to the fullest extent the weight of your responsibility, not only to the Government and yourself, but to me. You are bound by honor to make my judgement good. You have been my comrade in days of risk and hardship and danger against a violent criminal, against an anarchist or mob leader; I know I can count on you always.”23

  Not every man can escape the shadows of his past.

  In early February 1903, newspapers began to detail Daniels’s criminal background. When it became obvious that some senators wanted to remove Daniels from his post, Theodore quietly asked him to resign. “You did wrong in not being frank with me,” Theodore wrote to Daniels. “You put me in the position of unwittingly deceiving my friends in the Senate . . . I am more sorry than I can say to write you this letter.”24 Despite the setback, Theodore remained loyal to his friend, getting him appointed warden at the Arizona Territorial Prison in Yuma. Daniels attended Theodore’s swearing-in ceremony for his second presidential term in March 1905, and during a private lunch, Theodore said that he intended to nominate Daniels again for US marshal of Arizona Territory. Armed with letters of support from many notable citizens, judges, and law officers, Daniels’s appointment was approved by the Senate on April 25, 1906, ten months after he had already pinned on the marshal’s badge.25

  Seth Bullock, the former lawman of Deadwood, was another Westerner who was very close to Theodore. The two men first met around 1892, when Theodore was a civil service commissioner. Crossing the Belle Fourche River, Theodore and his party were spotted by Bullock, who thought they might be gamblers. (Having visited Medora and his old ranch, Theodore was making his way through Deadwood to the Sioux reservations.) Exchanging greetings, Bullock learned of Theodore’s profession, and stated, “Well, anything civil goes with me.”26 It was the beginning of a lifelong friendship between the two men. During Theodore’s vice presidential campaign trip of 1900, Seth joined his express train in Yankton, South Dakota, and traveled with Theodore through South Dakota, North Dakota, and Montana. At a stop in Butte, Montana, Theodore spoke to a group of miners who were strong Democratic Party supporters. Bullock, expecting the audience to be hostile, sent advance word that if anyone in the audience was rude, he would kill them. Backing up his words, Bullock sat on the stage behind Theodore, his pistols very much in evidence. No one did a thing.27

  In 1897, President Grover Cleveland used the power of executive order to create the Black Hills Forest Reserve, which closed the area to loggers, cattlemen, and homesteaders. In 1901, the position of forest supervisor of the Black Hills Forest Reserve became vacant, and interested parties hoped a local man would be appointed to the position, thus easing the tight regulations. Bullock’s name was sent to McKinley, and with Theodore’s strong lobbying, the former lawman was given the position. Once in office, Bullock managed to persuade Washington to allow him to hire men from the West as rangers instead of a bunch of Eastern dudes. Although Bullock’s administration issued more grazing and timber permits than his predecessor’s, they were carefully monitored to keep things in balance.

  In 1902, before it was granted national park status, Theodore appointed Bullock as custodian of Wind Cave in South Dakota.28 Three years later, Bullock assembled a contingent of cowboys that he led during Theodore’s inaugural parade. One young cowboy was Tom Mix, who went on to become one of the biggest Western stars in motion pictures. (Both Geronimo and Quanah Parker also rode in the parade.) When the ceremonies were over, Theodore nominated Bullock for US marshal for the state of South Dakota, which the Senate quickly approved. Bullock held the position until he resigned in 1914 at the age of sixty-four.

  Bullock, more than any other Westerner, appealed to Theodore in many ways. He was a man of the West, had enforced the law, and was as practical, no-nonsense, and honest as the day is long. He was also a living link to the West Theodore had just missed. Friendships with men such as Bullock, Daniels, and Masterson allowed him to get as close to those days as possible.29 Theodore sent his son, Ted Jr., and his nephew, George, to Deadwood for a two-week stay with his old friend in 1903, where Bullock introduced the teenagers to the West, teaching them to ride, shoot, hunt for game, and fish. In a letter to Ted Jr., Theodore mentioned that Bullock had complimented the young man, stating he was “hard as nails,” and that there was “good leather in you, and that he believed you might make a good citizen in time if you were allowed to complete your education out west!”30 (Theodore also sent Kermit and Archie to visit Bullock in subsequent years.)

  Pat Garrett, the lawman who shot Billy the Kid in 1881, was one Westerner who ultimately proved to be a headache for Theodore. General Lew Wallace had introduced Garrett to Theodore and had “vouched for him most warmly.”31 Unlike Masterson, Daniels, and Bullock, Theodore did not have a personal relationship with Garrett, who relied on his influential friends to lobby on his behalf for a federal position. Garrett was appointed collector of customs in El Paso, Texas, in January 1902, which ignited a firestorm of protest from Texans who wanted one of their own appointed, not a nonresident. (Garrett was living in New Mexico at the time.) After assuming the job, Garrett racked up several complaints (mainly citing his poor attitude), and a street fight with a former employee in 1903 did little to help his reputation. However, Garrett’s fate was sealed by his actions when he attended the 1905 Rough Riders reunion in San Antonio, and brought along his friend Tom Powers, known as the owner of El Paso’s most notorious saloon. Introducing his friend to Theodore, Garrett stated Powers was a “cattleman.”32 A photo of Theodore, Garrett, and Powers sitting at a table with other guests appeared in numerous newspapers, and Garrett’s detractors quickly pointed out to Theodore the true profession of Tom Powers. It was an embarrassment Theodore did not forget.

  Learning he was likely not to be reappointed to his position, Garrett made a trip to the White House in December 1905, hoping to change Theodore’s mind. In a move that can only be described as imbecilic, Garrett brought
along Tom Powers! The two men received an icy greeting to rival a Dakota winter. Theodore made it perfectly clear to Garrett that Powers was not welcome at the White House, and his days as collector of customs were finished.

  Who would have expected that a woman’s wardrobe accessory would have created the first Federal Bird Reservation? At the turn of the century, the newest fashion for women’s hats was to adorn them with large plumes. The larger and more colorful the plume, the better. Women loved the fashion, and milliners loved the profits.

  No one bothered to ask the birds what they thought.

  By the end of the 1890s, upwards of five million birds from fifty species had been killed for the millinery trade.

  In March 1903, William Dutcher and Frank Bond of the American Ornithologists Union (AOU) secured a meeting with Theodore to inform him about the situation at Pelican Island in Florida. Hundreds of birds, especially egrets, were being slaughtered for their feathers, with the carcasses carelessly tossed aside. The AOU had tried to purchase the island from the federal government, with little success. Theodore, the self-taught ornithologist, was disgusted by the news. He asked those assembled if there was any law that would prevent him from claiming Pelican Island as a Federal Bird Reserve. Informed that there was no law that could stop him, he slapped the table with his hand. “I so declare it!” he announced.33

  In that moment, Theodore Roosevelt had taken a major step as president to protect the land and the animals for the people of the United States. If Congress would not support his ideas, he would find a way around them by an executive order. Too impatient to wait for Congress to make a decision, Theodore initiated action and let others debate his efforts afterwards.

  When he assumed the office of president, over half of the virgin forests were gone. Ten times more trees were being cut down than were planted for regrowth. Theodore put a stop to that and saved what he could. His future decrees would infuriate the pro-business side of the Republican Party and its financial contributors, but Theodore did not care. He carved out sections of the country that would forever be safe from the hands of developers, allowing generations of families to appreciate this country’s natural wonders. “There’s nothing lower than somebody that wants to develop this land for their own personal gain without concern about how the land will be for the next generation,” he once stated.34