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LIFE AND WORK OF THEODORE ROOSEVELT MEMORIAL

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

 THE YOUNG MAN'S HERO

Theodore Roosevelt the Idol of American Youth—His Strong, Lovable Character Appealed to Its Imagination—One Secret of His Power as a Citizen—A Perennial Boy—Mourned by the Boys of America—The Colonel Among Children—How He Raised His Sons.
No man ever lived who enjoyed in so remarkable a degree as Theodore Roosevelt the love and respect of Young America. No other citizen of the world was ever so deeply enshrined in the hearts of the boys and girls of his own country, or was so cheerfully accepted by them as their ideal and exemplar.

To the young men of the country he was indeed a hero. He appealed to their imagination, and filled it with a satisfaction that knew no flaw. The wonderful combination in his personality of a King Arthur, a Chevalier Bayard, and a Buffalo Bill, with the added qualities of great statesmanship and intense patriotism, made an appeal that was irresistible, so that for two generations the living "Teddy" was the idol of the young. And the dead Roosevelt will remain their ideal for generations to come.

The love and hero-worship of the young men of America was ever a source of tremendous strength to Roosevelt the statesman and Roosevelt the influential citizen. The public recognized it, the politicians felt its power, the parents knew its influence. There is an instinct or an intuition—call it what you please—in the personal judgments of the young that cannot be gainsaid. Good men, strong men, sincere men, lovable men, are intuitively recognized by the youthful mind, and are respected and trusted accordingly. They attract youth and gain its confidence, while men of a different character are repellent to it and arouse its suspicion. Theodore Roosevelt was always attractive to youth. He gained the affection of the young without effort, because of his abounding love for humanity, which found constant expression in his daily life. From his earliest days he was the teacher, guide, and counsellor of the young; and as his great career unfolded he gave to the boys and girls of America that service of usefulness which he lavished upon all his fellow-countrymen in such unstinted measure. In this he was but following in the footsteps of his father, the elder Theodore, whose work for the young of New York City was one of the greatest achievements of his useful life.

A Perennial Boy
Colonel Roosevelt was a perennial boy. In some respects he never "grew up." His abounding vitality, his love of constant action—"something doing all the time,"—his enthusiasm in every cause he espoused, his quick perceptions and rapid decisions, his fondness for sports, his love of a " scrap,'' his sense of fair play, his keen interest in football,—all these characteristics were those of a regular American boy, and the boys of America recognized in him a kindred spirit, one of themselves. He was never happier than when he was "playing the boy," and he could be a boy in the company of staid Senators, dignified Ambassadors, and prim politicians, as well as with boxers and football players and wrestlers and cowboys and children.
When he died a great New York newspaper recognized the truth of his hold upon the boys when it said, under the heading of "Teddy":

"Millions who have no spokesmen to make articulate their emotions, who lack words to express their grief, mourn Theodore Roosevelt surely quite as sincerely as those who fill papers with their tributes and draw up resolutions of regret.

"These mute mourners are the boys of America. In their Pantheon, Theodore Roosevelt, hero of San Juan, mighty hunter, slayer of lion, bear, wolf, and panther, explorer, occupied a throne more exalted even than Frank Merriwell's and Nick Carter's, far above the history-embedded heroes of G. A. Henty.

"He was the eternal boy. His were the boy's enthusiasms and unlimited capacity for swift movement of body and brain. And the boys shall mourn the passing of this full-colored, virile man long after grief has faded from older and colder hearts and minds, untouched by the eternal dawn."

Why Boys Loved "Teddy"
When Mr. Roosevelt was President, his great friend, Jacob A. Riis, who had accompanied him in earlier days on many a midnight expedition through the slums of New York City, seeking to do good, said of him:

"Boys admire President Roosevelt because he himself 'is a good deal of a boy.' Some men have claimed that Mr. Roosevelt never has matured; but this is saying no more than that he has not stopped growing, that he is not yet imprisoned in the crust of age. To him the world is still young and unfinished. He has a boy's fresh faith that the things that ought to be done can be done. His eyes are on the future rather than on the past.
"Young America never drew so near to any other public man as to Theodore  Roosevelt. All the boys in the land feel that there is a kindred spirit in the White House. Every one of them knows ' Teddy' and the ' Teddy bear' and the 'Teddy hat.' But it is doubtful if the President ever was called 'Teddy' when he was a boy. He used to be 'Teedy' in the family circle and at Harvard he was 'Ted,' while among the intimates of his manhood he is always called 'Theodore.' He is 'Teddy,' however, to millions of boys who delight in their comradeship with the President which this nickname implies. It does not mean that they are lacking in respect for him; it simply means that they are not afraid of him, and that they feel they know him and he knows them.''

The Colonel Among Children
The Colonel had a way with youngsters. All too little to know how to admire him loved him on sight. The older ones did both. The stories about him with children here and there are innumerable. His animosity toward race suicide was no cold, abstract, sociological tenet. There was the little invalid in Portland, Oregon, carried to the curb on a stretcher to see him go by, when he was passing through in 1903. He noticed her, stopped the carriage, jumped out and kissed her.

One day in February, 1911, when walking back to the office of The Outlook in New York after luncheon, the Colonel found a lost nine-year-old, newly arrived with his parents via Ellis Island, crying in the streets, and dried the child's eyes and took him to the East Twenty-third street police station, where he turned him over to the matron, and then swapped old memories with the bluecoats behind the desk, one or two of whom had been on the force when he was Commissioner.
There are countless stories of his own, the Roosevelt children, in and out of the White House and at Sagamore Hill, and latterly there were the photographs of him holding the grandbabies. Of these stories, a favorite in its day was about his little boating and sleeping-out-in-blankets expedition to a remote sand beach on the Sound, his companions being Kermit, Archie and their cousin Philip. The date was August 9, 1902.

The President and the three kids quietly stole off to the bay, eluding all eyes but Secretary Loeb's, and that was the evening when the Pacific cables rumpus broke like a bombshell, and telegrams and emissaries and magnates and reporters poured in vainly upon the Roosevelt home. Mr. Loeb could not say where the President was and seemed embarrassed by it. The four simple-lifers returned in the morning after a bully time, and the business of a President on vacation was resumed. Subsequently such sleeping-out excursions were a feature of every summer.

Then there was the autumn day in 1917 when the Colonel sat for two hours at the elbow of Justice Hoyt in Children's Court, New York, heard the cases, and acted as unofficial consulting Justice. Once, leaning over, he whispered to a youngster, "It's all right this time, sonny. You're all right. But remember, don't do it again, or he '11 send you away! He '11 send you away!'' And again, after hearing how some other juvenile malefactor of little wealth had made full restitution to the pushcart man or somebody, the Roosevelt fist thumped the arm of the chair, with "That's a fine boy! That land make first-rate citizens!''

Soon after the Roosevelts took up their residence at the White House a fawning society woman asked one of the younger boys if he did not dislike the "common boys" he met at the public schools. The boy looked at her in wonderment for a moment and then replied:

"My papa says there are only tall boys and short boys and good boys and bad boys, and that's all the kind of boys there are."

When the leader of the Rough Riders  returned from the Spanish-American war he found all his children congregated near a pole from which floated a large flag of their own manufacture, inscribed:

" To Colonel Roosevelt."

He said that the tribute touched him more deeply than any of the pretentious demonstrations accorded him.

Several years ago Judge Ben Lindsey of Denver asked Colonel Roosevelt to send his son Quentin out West. A few months before his death the Colonel was talking to the Judge, and tears came into his eyes as he said: "Judge, you remember what you said about that boy? Well, he went west, he went west" (in France). Then he added:

"It is pretty hard. His mother, of course, like all mothers, feels it, but by George—by George, it's all right; and I tell you, Judge, if this war lasts another year I won't have a son left. Not one! I tell you, they are bears; they are bears for a fight when there ought to be a fight. I am proud of them."

Roosevelt's Kind of Boy
Mr. Roosevelt was fond of telling the boys what their country expects of them. He was a great friend and supporter of the Boy Scouts of America, who wore official mourning crepe on their arms for him after his death, and mourned him most sincerely. Here is what he once said about the American boy—and every boy should paste it in his hat:
"What we have a right to expect of the American boy is that he shall turn out to be a good American man. Now the chances are that he won't be much of a man unless he is a good deal of a boy. He must not be a coward or a weakling, a bully, a shirk, or a prig. He must work hard and play hard. He must be clean-minded and clean-lived, and able to hold his own under all circumstances and against all comers. It is only on these conditions that he will grow into the kind of man of whom America can really be proud. In life, as in a football game, the principle to follow is to hit the line hard; don't foul and don't shirk, but hit the line hard.''
—theodobe Roosevelt.
There is a splendid platform of principles for a regular boy. And no one who was not "a good deal of a boy" himself would have put so much sound sense in so few words. They ring true—and millions of American boys are trying to live up to "Teddy's" standard. That was the kind of boy he was himself, and the kind of man he made himself.

His Own Children
Young America was also drawn to the former President through his delight in his own children. He was prouder to be the father of a family of six than to be the head of the nation. His sons and daughters were born as follows:

Alice Lee (named for her mother, the first Mrs. Roosevelt), born in New York City, February 12, 1884; married Nicholas Longworth of Cincinnati, at the White House, February 17, 1906.

Theodore, Jr. (named for his father), born at Oyster Bay, September 13, 1887.
Kermit (this is the middle name of his mother), born at Oyster Bay, October 10, 1889.

Ethel Carow (named for her mother's family), born at Oyster Bay, August 13, 1891.

Archibald Bulloch (named for a paternal ancestor, the first Governor of the State of Georgia), born in Washington, April 9, 1894.

Quentin (named for a maternal ancestor)', born in Washington, November 19, 1897; died in action in France, July, 1918.

"The chief ambition of Mr. and Mrs. Roosevelt," said one of their closest friends, "was not to rear a brilliant family, but to keep their children like other children, unspoiled by their father's distinction, and to bring them up simply and to fit them to be womanly women and manly men. They all had the same nurse, but their mother trusted no one to tuck them in at night, and she herself attended to this duty even when there was a great reception or state dinner to be given.

"The President wished his daughters as well as his sons to be brave and hardy. 'I must confess,' he said, ' that when girls are small I like them to be tomboys.' Of his eldest child he once remarked: 'Alice is a girl who does not stay in the house and sit in a rocking-chair. She can walk as far as I can. She can ride, drive, and shoot; although she doesn't care much for the shooting. I don't mind that; it is not necessary for health, but outdoor exercise is, and she has plenty of that.'

"Coming to womanhood while her father was President, Alice was obliged to pay the penalty of his fame. Her every step was published to the world and her name was made a favorite subject of gossip and rumor. It was a trying ordeal for a young woman, but it must be granted by all that she passed through this trial with a careless indifference, worthy of her father's spirit of courage and independence. The German Emperor selected her to christen his yacht, when it was launched in an American shipyard, and she complied with the imperial request simply and modestly. After the launching she sent this message by cable:
'His Majesty, the Emperor,
'Berlin, Germany:

'The Meteor has been successfully launched. I congratulate you, and I thank you for your courtesy to me, and I send my best wishes.
'alice lee roosevelt.'
'' Some guardians of royal etiquette in Europe seemed to be a little shocked by the lack of formality, by the directness of that greeting from an American girl to an august sovereign. Doubtless the Kaiser liked this girlish frankness. He knew we had no court manners over here. Miss Roosevelt again became involved in court etiquette when she planned to attend the coronation of King Edward in London. The American Ambassador had invited her to join him on that occasion and she was as ready as any other girl to see so grand a pageant. When, however, a debate arose as to whether the daughter of the President should be received as a Princess, she and her father lost their patience, and the journey was abandoned in disgust."

The Colonel and His Sons
In his relations with his four sons, Colonel Roosevelt was always more like a brother than a father. Once he made a little speech at a school near Washington, where his daughter, Ethel, was a pupil, and said:
"Life in the family circle is usually shaped predominantly for good or evil by the mother, even more than by the father."

So in his own family circle he "took his place in the ranks" as an equal comrade of his sons. They used to play, read, tramp, and ride together. We even heard of pillow-fights between the august President and his sons in the White House, as in any other happy American home. And it is said that the Roosevelt boys have seen a real live President of the United States down on his hands and knees, playing bear—"a real, live Teddy-bear, with a table or a bush for his den.'' Undignified, eh ? Maybe so, but that Teddy-bear was an ideal American father and raised the right kind of American boys.

The Colonel taught his sons to box and to shoot, to swim and row and sail and ride. He tried to teach them not to be afraid of anything. Their home at Sagamore Hill was a regular menagerie of strange pets. At various times the Roosevelt children had such playfellows as a lion, a hyena, a wild-cat, a coyote, two parrots, five bears, an eagle, a barn owl, several snakes and lizards, a zebra which the Emperor of Abyssinia sent them, kangaroo-rats and flying squirrels, rabbits, and guinea-pigs.

Many of these animals and reptiles were sent to the family as gifts, and after a time were added to the public zoological collection in New York. The kangaroo-rats and flying squirrels slept in the pockets and blouses of the children, whence they sometimes made unexpected appearances at the breakfast and dinner table or in school. Many an American family has had similar experiences, as its boys were growing up, but in few families is the study of natural history through live specimens so liberally encouraged by the parents as it was in the family at Sagamore Hill.
While a strict disciplinarian in his home, Mr. Roosevelt mingled comradeship with exercise of authority in a manner that made a successful father. It is said of him that while he might postpone important affairs of state to "play bear" with his children, he was also known to excuse himself to a company of friends who were spending the evening at his home while he went upstairs to spank one of the children who had disregarded repeated admonitions to make less noise. He was a chum of all the members of his household. He repeatedly expressed disapproval of the "goody-goody boy." He said on one occasion:

" I do not want any one to believe that my little ones are brought up to be cowards in this house. If they are struck they are not taught to turn the other cheek. I haven't any use for weaklings. I commend gentleness and manliness. I want my boys to be strong and gentle. For all my children I pray they may be healthy and natural."

A Faithful Old Nurse
In the home of Mrs. Mary Ledwith, 89 years old, of 336 East Thirty-first Street, for more than fifty years governess and nurse in the Roosevelt family, the portrait of Colonel Roosevelt was draped in black on the day of bis funeral. Mrs. Ledwith was employed by the family of Mrs. Roosevelt before she took up her employ in the family of the Colonel, where she remained until his second term in the White House.

Her room is filled with portraits of the members of the Roosevelt family, and Mrs. Ledwith proudly told of the frequent visits made by Colonel Roosevelt to her home. The last visit, Mrs. Ledwith said, was made by him in April, 1918, when he came bounding up the stairs to her apartment on the second floor, knocked on the door, and burst into the room with a hearty greeting.

"Well, I'll probably be arrested as a burglar," were his first words on that occasion to Mrs. Ledwith. '' I have entered three apartments already in search of you and the tenants seemed badly scared.''

Mrs. Ledwith said she was with Mrs. Roosevelt's family long before the Colonel's wife was born and put her first baby dress on her. When Theodore Roosevelt married Miss Carow, Mrs. Ledwith accompanied them to London. She entered the employ of the Carows during Buchanan's presidency when the Carow homestead was at Fourteenth Street and Broadway, which in those days was well out in the country.