by FDR
FDR turned his checkbook over to Howe and soon found himself overdrawn. Expenses were heavy, and Howe, evidently unfamiliar with check writing, always added the amount of the check to the balance rather than subtracting it.50 FDR met most of the expenses from his personal funds, including Howe’s salary of $50 a week. Overall the race cost about $3,000, roughly twice the salary of a state senator.51 A few friends loaned Franklin money for the campaign. “I pray your mother is as wealthy as reported so I can get some of the money back,” wrote FDR’s Hyde Park neighbor Jefferson Newbold.52
Howe scoured the district, promising in Franklin’s name whatever would win votes. “I’m having more fun than a goat,” he wrote FDR in early November.53 Everyone was pleased except Eleanor and Sara, who were put off by Howe’s habits, particularly his addiction to high-powered Sweet Caporals. “Remember, I was still a Puritan,” Eleanor said many years later.54 Howe ran the campaign so effectively that FDR’s absence was rarely noted and never commented upon by his opponents.* Voters for the most part remained unaware that Roosevelt was ill—a forerunner of the campaigns Howe would conduct when FDR ran for governor and president, in which many voters never realized the candidate could not walk.
In the final week of the campaign, Jacob Southard, Franklin’s Republican opponent, attacked FDR as anti-Catholic—an unfortunate legacy of the 1911 fight against Sheehan. Howe enlisted a number of Catholic friends to put out the fire. He told Franklin not to worry. “Everyone is happy and singing the doxology.”55 Howe was as good as his word. Without ever setting foot in his district, Franklin won by a larger margin than he had two years before.56
FDR’s victory was part of a Democratic sweep. Wilson defeated TR by 2 million votes and Taft by almost 3 million.* In the electoral college, Wilson carried forty of the forty-eight states with 435 votes, Roosevelt carried six states with 88 votes, while Taft carried only Utah and Vermont for a total of 8 votes. The Democrats added 61 seats in the House of Representatives, giving them a lopsided 291–127 majority, and regained control of the Senate for the first time since 1895.57 In New York, Tammany’s “Plain Bill” Sulzer easily won a three-cornered race for governor and the Democrats regained control of both houses of the legislature. FDR led the ticket in the Twenty-sixth Senatorial District, running 700 votes ahead of both Wilson and Sulzer. “Congratulations on your deserved and notable victory,” wrote FDR’s Dutchess County friend John Walker. “When a bull moose and an elephant are both outrun by a man sick-a-bed it would seem ‘Manifest Destiny.’ ”58
Franklin returned to Albany in January 1913, still so frail and pallid that Eleanor worried about his ability to carry on. “I’m very well and taking care of myself,” he wrote reassuringly. “Wearing rubbers, brushing my teeth, etc., etc.” As Howe had predicted, FDR became chairman of the Senate Agriculture Committee and the ranking member of Forest, Fish, and Game. “This isn’t bad,” he wrote Eleanor. “I am particularly glad that the other members of Agriculture gave me control of the committee as against our N.Y. City friends.”59
Roosevelt evidently assumed he would be joining the Wilson administration when it took office on March 4. Instead of the opulent houses they had rented in previous sessions, he and Eleanor took a two-room suite at the Ten Eyck Hotel. They commuted to Albany Tuesday through Thursday while the children remained at the town house on East Sixty-fifth Street.
The first hint that FDR might go to Washington came on January 13, 1913, when he received a telegram from Joseph Tumulty, Wilson’s private secretary, summoning him to Trenton for a conference with the president-elect.60 Patronage matters were discussed, and Tumulty pressed Roosevelt on his willingness to join the administration. Tangential evidence suggests that FDR expressed his preference for the number two post in the Navy Department.* No formal offer was extended, yet Eleanor recalled that in the weeks leading up to the inauguration Franklin was confident he would be going to Washington. Whether he would become the assistant secretary of the Navy was less clear.61
Wilson chose his cabinet primarily to reward the faithful, repay obligations, and punish his opponents. Little attention was paid to professional expertise or even a modest awareness of the subject matter of each portfolio. William Jennings Bryan had never been outside the United States when he became secretary of state. Lindley M. Garrison of New Jersey, the secretary of war, knew precious little about the military but had a distinguished record as a conservative jurist and was given as hostage to the strict-constructionist wing of the party.62 When Garrison departed the cabinet in 1916, he was succeeded by Newton D. Baker, the mayor of Cleveland. Baker too knew little about the Army but had played a key role in swinging Ohio behind Wilson at a crucial moment in Baltimore.63
As secretary of the Navy, Wilson chose North Carolina newspaper editor Josephus Daniels. Daniels, from landlocked Raleigh, knew even less about the Navy than Garrison did about the Army, but he had been a vital Wilson supporter in the South and was on friendly terms with the president-elect.† William Gibbs McAdoo of New York, whom Wilson tapped to be secretary of the Treasury, was a distinguished New York lawyer and railroad executive and would later become Wilson’s son-in-law. But he had no background in finance. He was selected primarily because he was a prominent anti-Tammany Democrat who had worked vigorously for Wilson’s election. His appointment sent an important message to the New York Democratic organization.
As attorney general, the logical choice was Louis Brandeis, widely regarded as the nation’s leading advocate of judicial reform. Instead, Wilson repaid his debt to Tennessee’s Cordell Hull and appointed James C. McReynolds from the Volunteer State. A decent lawyer who had served in TR’s Justice Department, the ultraconservative McReynolds was scarcely a crusader for reform and had little in the way of national reputation. He proved the least congenial of Wilson’s original appointees and was soon elevated to the Supreme Court, where he would later prove an implacable foe of Franklin Roosevelt and the New Deal.64
FDR made certain he was not overlooked. He and Eleanor took rooms at Washington’s Willard Hotel on March 1, three days before the inauguration. Located at Fourteenth Street and Pennsylvania Avenue—less than two short blocks from the White House—the Willard had been a favorite with visiting politicians for decades. Lincoln had stayed at the old Willard before his inaugural, Grant had stayed there when he went to Washington to assume command, and virtually every subsequent chief executive had stayed at the Willard at one time or another. In 1913, most members of the incoming administration were among its guests, and Wilson attended a gala banquet there on the eve of his inaugural.65
On his first day at the hotel, FDR met the incoming Treasury secretary William Gibbs McAdoo, with whom he had worked closely during the campaign. McAdoo was busy assembling his team at Treasury and asked Franklin if he would like to be either assistant secretary or collector of customs of the Port of New York. Both were prime appointments, particularly the collector’s post, which would have provided FDR with a vast patronage base were he interested in running for statewide office in New York. Roosevelt was appreciative but noncommittal. McAdoo’s offer was too good to turn down, but he still hoped for the post at Navy. Two days later, on the morning of the inauguration, Roosevelt ran into Josephus Daniels in the cavernous lobby of the Willard.
As Daniels recalled, FDR was bubbling with enthusiasm: “as keen as a boy to take in the inauguration ceremonies.” Franklin congratulated Daniels on his appointment. Daniels responded by offering Roosevelt the appointment he sought: “How would you like to come to Washington as assistant secretary of the Navy?” Franklin beamed. “It would please me better than anything in the world,” he told Daniels. “All my life I have loved ships and have been a student of the Navy, and the assistant secretaryship is the one place, above all others, that I would like to hold.” Roosevelt said McAdoo had asked him to join Treasury, “but nothing would please me so much as to be with you in the Navy.”66
The symbolism of the appointment was apparent. Daniels noted in his
diary that Franklin’s “distinguished cousin TR went from that place to the Presidency. May history repeat itself.”67 The Raleigh News & Observer, announcing FDR’s posting, proclaimed, “He’s Following in Teddy’s Footsteps.” Cousin Theodore, who at this point despised Wilson even more than Taft, penned a short note: “It is interesting that you are in another place which I myself once held. I am sure you will enjoy yourself to the full as Ass’t Secty of the Navy and that you will do capital work.”68
Before sending FDR’s nomination to the Senate, Daniels, as custom required, consulted New York’s Democratic senator, James Aloysius O’Gorman. O’Gorman owed his place in the Senate to FDR, and he assented readily. The Senate, he said, would confirm the appointment promptly.69 Out of courtesy Daniels also touched base with the Empire State’s distinguished senior senator, Republican Elihu Root. Root, who had served as secretary of war under McKinley and secretary of state under TR, had just been awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. As Daniels recalled, a queer look came over Root’s face when he mentioned FDR. “You know the Roosevelts, don’t you?” Root asked. “Whenever a Roosevelt rides, he wishes to ride in front.” Root told Daniels he knew Franklin slightly and the appointment would be fine, “though, of course, being a Republican, I have no right to make any suggestion.” Daniels replied that he wasn’t worried about FDR and that he wanted a strong man as assistant secretary. “A chief who fears that an assistant will outrank him is not fit to be chief.”70
After the inauguration FDR returned briefly to Albany to wind up his affairs. He paid a courtesy call on Senate leader Robert Wagner and asked whether he thought it was wise to go to Washington. “Go, Franklin, go,” Wagner said, delighted to have Roosevelt in the nation’s capital rather than Albany. “I’m sure you’ll be a big success down there.”71
* Sullivan ran the gambling and prostitution rings south of Fourteenth Street in Manhattan, and he thrived on the intensely personal side of politics. Every year on his mother’s birthday, he distributed tickets entitling each of the two thousand children in his Bowery constituency to a free pair of shoes, and he could always be counted upon in the legislature to support measures that would benefit the poor.
Sullivan served one term in Congress but left in disgust because it was too far removed from the voters and too anonymous. “There’s nothing in this Congress business,” he told a reporter. “They know ’em in Washington. The people down there use them as hitching posts. Every time they see a Congressman on the street they tie their horse to them.”
When Sullivan died in 1913, twenty-five thousand people, including three United States senators and twenty members of the House of Representatives, followed his casket to the grave. Charles F. Murphy and the mayor of New York headed the pallbearers. The high requiem mass was celebrated by Monsignor Kearney, rector of the old St. Patrick’s Cathedral. Sullivan’s estate, estimated at $2 million to $3 million dollars, was placed in trust for charitable purposes. M. R. Werner, Tammany Hall 508–510 (New York: Greenwood Press, 1968).
* Howe, who covered Albany for years for the New York Herald, knew his account could not be disproved because the Senate Journal recorded votes only and not speeches. But four New York City newspapers, three Albany papers, and one from Poughkeepsie covered the debate. Five mentioned the Sullivans being called back, but not one mentioned Roosevelt taking part. New York Herald, The New York Times, New York World, New York Tribune, Albany Knickerbocker Press, Albany Daily Argus, Albany Evening Journal, Poughkeepsie Daily Eagle, March 30, 1912.
* Thomas Woodrow Wilson, Princeton class of 1879, received his Ph.D. from Johns Hopkins in 1885, was appointed to the Princeton faculty in 1890, and became president in 1902. His first few years as president were punctuated by a flurry of educational reforms, but by 1906 his welcome had worn thin. He alienated alumni by attempting to abolish the eating clubs on Prospect Avenue, and his academic certitude turned faculty against him. In 1909–10 he lost a showdown battle with Dean Andrew West ’74 over the location and role of the graduate school (Wilson wanted it in the midst of the campus; West preferred a bucolic location). Trustees, faculty, and important donors sided with West, and Wilson recognized that his authority as president was fatally compromised. New Jersey Democrats had been urging him to run for governor, and after West’s triumph Wilson had little choice. He accepted the party’s nomination in September 1910. Arthur S. Link, “Woodrow Wilson,” in A Princeton Companion 512–515, Alexander Leitch, ed. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1978).
* The remaining 59 votes were split among a variety of favorite-son candidates, including Governor Thomas R. Marshall of Indiana (31). William Jennings Bryan, who was not a candidate but who hovered over the convention like Banquo’s ghost, received one vote. Congressional Quarterly, Guide to U.S. Elections 148 (Washington, D.C.: Congressional Quarterly, 1975).
* Wilson attributed his nomination to divine intervention. “I am a Presbyterian and believe in predestination. It was Providence that did the work in Baltimore,” he told his campaign manager, William F. McCombs. McCombs, who had worked round the clock to secure Wilson’s victory, was understandably taken aback. “I must confess I felt a chill … because I thought that if he attempted to apply that Predestination doctrine to the extreme, the Democratic campaign might find itself very much in the ruck.” William F. McCombs, Making Woodrow Wilson President 180–181 (New York: Fairview Publishing Co., 1921).
* An unsigned Tammany memorandum from a member of the State Senate, perhaps Tim Sullivan, to Charles Murphy, makes the case for an alliance with FDR: “I would rather an organization man were elected, but we can’t win with an organization man.… My reasons for favoring Mr. Roosevelt are as follows: First—He is a young man, who would go up and down the state capturing a great army of young men.… Second—The name Roosevelt would mean at least 10,000 votes to the Democratic ticket. Third—He is worth several million dollars, and could finance his own campaign, if necessary. Fourth—He is independent and is known throughout the state as a man who will fight for what he believes to be right.” Manuscript, Senate files, FDRL.
* In what surely ranks as one of the greatest examples of chutzpah of modern politics, Howe, over FDR’s signature, wrote the voters of Columbia County on November 1 to attack Franklin’s Republican opponent for not having visited the county during the campaign. FDR, meanwhile, was still flat on his back on East Sixty-fifth Street. FDR to [Voter’s name], November 1, 1912, FDRL.
* The final returns showed Wilson with 6,293,152 to Theodore Roosevelt’s 4,119,207 and Taft’s 3,486,333. Eugene V. Debs, the Socialist candidate, received 900,369, mostly in the West, where agrarian unrest was rampant (he received 16.5 percent of the vote in Nevada and 16.4 percent in Oklahoma). Congressional Quarterly, Guide to U.S. Elections 284 (Washington, D.C.: Congressional Quarterly Inc., 1975).
* Michael Francis Doyle, a young Philadelphia lawyer active in both the Wilson and Bryan presidential campaigns, was informed by Bryan shortly after the election that Wilson planned to appoint him assistant secretary of the Navy. After FDR’s visit to Trenton, Bryan advised Doyle that Roosevelt had his eye on the position and urged Doyle to withdraw, which Doyle did. Frank Freidel, interview with Michael Francis Doyle, October 17, 1947, cited in Freidel, Franklin D. Roosevelt: The Apprenticeship 155 (Boston: Little, Brown, 1952).
† Daniels was initially concerned about his lack of nautical knowledge but rationalized his acceptance by recalling that he had been a successful newspaper editor without understanding linotype machines or rotary presses. Horatio Nelson, after all, had been a poor sailor, and, as Daniels would have it, Napoleon had had “no practical experience handling troops.”
Daniels remained at the Navy Department for the entire eight years of the Wilson administration. Afterward he relished retelling the query put by a newsman to longtime Republican congressman Martin B. Madden of Illinois: “Can a civilian direct the Navy if he had no experience in Naval affairs?” Madden answered, “Daniels did.” Josephus Daniels,
The Wilson Era: Years of Peace—1910–1917 122–123 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1944).
SIX
ANCHORS AWEIGH
As a member of the Wilson administration, Roosevelt noted Wilson’s personal difficulties with the politicians, his remoteness and isolation from them. Taking state committeemen to luncheons to listen to and mollify their grievances was one of the chores Franklin undertook. He unbent, laughed with them, swapped yarns. FDR was good at this. He learned to be a politician.
—FRANCES PERKINS
THE WILSON ADMINISTRATION commenced on a high plane of moral rectitude. Mrs. Wilson canceled the inaugural ball as too frivolous for so solemn an occasion; the president, an avid golfer, declined membership in the Chevy Chase Country Club because it was too exclusive; and incoming Secretary of State William Jennings Bryan initiated the era of grape juice diplomacy by refusing to serve alcohol at state functions.1 Wilson had campaigned under the banner of the New Freedom, which promised “the emancipation of the generous energies of the people,” primarily through states’ rights, free competition, and tariff reform.2 But for the Virginia-born Wilson, the New Freedom was for whites only. The first southerner elected president since Zachary Taylor, Wilson immediately segregated the government’s workforce. Black Republican appointees in the South were discharged and replaced by whites, and within six months government workers in Washington who had worked side by side for years found themselves separated by race.3 “Public segregation of civil servants, necessarily involving personal insult and humiliation, has for the first time in history been made the policy of the United States government,” lamented W. E. B. Du Bois, who, unlike most black leaders, had supported Wilson.4*