The rise of Theodore Roosevelt - Edmund Morris [212]
ROOSEVELT HAD NO SOONER blotted the last line of this letter, in his Washington office on 10 October, than a telegram from Oyster Bay announced the premature birth of his second son, Kermit.86 He left at once for Sagamore Hill, chartering a special train in order to be at Edith’s bedside that night. For the next two weeks he stayed home while she “convalesced,” reading to her and trying to conceal his renewed worries about money.87 The time for their general move to Washington was approaching; how he would finance it he simply did not know.
What was worse, for the first time he felt really insecure in his job. A “scream for his removal”88 was gathering in the capital. Inevitably, word had gotten out that he had found a favored place for Hamilton Shidy, the Milwaukee informer. Frank Hatton of the Post was going to demand a House investigation; the majority of spoilsmen would undoubtedly agree; it was not farfetched to imagine himself being humiliated in a Congressional witness-box just when his wife arrived in town and began to receive Washington society.
Roosevelt put all his faith in the Annual Report of the Civil Service Commission, which would soon become due. It must be so incisive, so powerfully worded, that President Harrison dare not find fault with it; it must serve notice on Congress that Theodore Roosevelt was no mere publicist, but a solid, authoritative Commissioner.
He spent the last days of his thirtieth year working on the report at Sagamore Hill. There was no attempt to consult his colleagues on the Civil Service Commission: he “hardly dare trust” nice, dim Hugh Thompson with such work, and “as for Lyman, he is utterly useless … I wish to Heaven he were off.”89 One can almost hear Henry Cabot Lodge sigh as he read those words. After only five months on the Civil Service Commission, Theodore’s hunger for absolute power was already asserting itself.
At the end of October, Roosevelt returned to Washington and rented the nearest thing to a decent house he could afford. It was about one-tenth the size of Sagamore Hill, but that could not be helped. At least the location was good—at 1820 Jefferson Place, off Connecticut Avenue. The Lodges, who were at last back in town, lived only a stone’s throw away. Until Edith joined him at the end of the year, they would see that he did not starve.
He sent his report to the White House on 14 November,90 and plunged into the final rounds of a political battle which had involved him, on and off, since early summer. Two formidable rivals—Thomas B. Reed of Maine and William McKinley of Ohio—were fighting for the Speakership of the House. Roosevelt campaigned for the former, having assured the latter he would one day vote for him as President of the United States.91 McKinley “was as pleasant as possible—probably because he considered my support worthless.”92 When Congress convened on 2 December, Roosevelt had the satisfaction of seeing Reed elected. In the event of a House investigation, he could now count on the support of the most powerful man on Capitol Hill. A few days later, President Harrison added to his sense of security by approving his report and recommending that the Civil Service Commission’s budget be increased.93
Christmas found Roosevelt at Sagamore Hill with “Edie and the blessed Bunnies,” wondering, as he unwrapped his presents, if Bamie was going to give him Motley’s Letters or Laing’s Heimskringla.94 After the holiday he brought his excited family to Washington, installed them at Jefferson Place, and on 30 December read a paper on “Certain