The rise of Theodore Roosevelt - Edmund Morris [81]
In his search for truth, he does not hesitate to crush such sentimental legends as that of the Battle of Lake Erie. “The ‘glory’ acquired by it most certainly has been estimated at more than its own worth,” he declares, in the course of a long and brilliantly detailed analysis. “The simple truth is … the side which possessed the superiority in force, in the proportion of three to two, could not well help winning.” Dismissing “stereotyped” arguments that the United States fleet was underarmed and undermanned, he went on to prove, with incontestable figures, that its weight of ammunition—i.e., fighting effectiveness—was superior, “as the battle was fought under very short sail, and decided purely by gunnery.”91
Theodore’s very scrupulousness, however, led him to the conclusion that the Naval War of 1812 was a deserved victory for America. Having so decided, he felt no desire to gloat, for a far more important theme preoccupied him: that if the conflict were to be repeated in 1882 the result would undoubtedly be the reverse. The small, efficient, and technically advanced Navy of 1812 was now large, unwieldy, and obsolescent. Writing his preface to the first edition, the young author suddenly cast aside his cloak of academic impartiality and revealed that he was wearing military uniform underneath.
“It is folly,” thundered Theodore, “for the great English-speaking Republic to rely for defense upon a navy composed partly of antiquated hulks and partly of new vessels rather more worthless than the old.” He urged his compatriots “to study with some care that period of our history during which our navy stood at the highest pitch of its fame … to learn anything from the past it is necessary to know, as near as may be, the exact truth—if only from the narrowest motives.”92
Strategic experts pondered his message at least as far away as Washington, D.C. The Naval War of 1812 was to have a profound effect upon the attitude of the country to its Navy, not to mention Theodore’s future career.93
WITHIN THREE DAYS after delivering his manuscript to Putnam’s, Theodore was caught up in the whirl and glitter of the new social season. “The going out has fairly begun,” he noted on 6 December. “All are at it, from dinners to Balls.” He saw that Alice, who had no doubt felt rather neglected in recent months, had her fill of the festivities. She would be seeing even less of him in the New Year, when the legislative session began at Albany. Until his election, they had been thinking of moving into their own house sometime that winter; but now the prospect of leaving her alone for weeks at a time (although he would try to get married digs in Albany, so she could come north occasionally) convinced him they should stay on at 6 West Fifty-seventh Street. The session would be over in the spring, and they could look for a new home then.94 As to his future beyond that, Theodore professed to be as vague as ever. “Too true, too true; I have become a political ‘hack’,” he wrote to an ex-classmate. “But don’t think I am going into politics after this year, for I am not.”95
“I intended to be one of the governing class.”
Theodore Roosevelt at the time of his election to the New York State Assembly. (Illustration 5.1)
CHAPTER 6
The Cyclone Assemblyman
Through the streets of Drontheim
Strode he red and wrathful,
With his stately air.
ASSEMBLYMAN THEODORE ROOSEVELT arrived in Albany in 17-degree weather, late on the afternoon of Monday, 2 January 1882.1 Alice had gone to Montreal with a party of friends, and would not be joining him for another two weeks. They could look for lodgings then. In the meantime he checked into the Delavan House, a rambling old hotel with whistly radiators, immediately opposite the railroad station. Apart from the fact that it was conveniently located, and boasted one of the few good restaurants in town, the Delavan was honeycombed with seedy private rooms, of the kind that politicians