Edith Kermit Carow Roosevelt - First Lady

As I've said before, I get distracted easily and my study of women in history is no exception. Lately I've been reading about US First Ladies. They have varied greatly over the 200+ years of our history in many ways, from their level of education to their level of involvement in their husband's career. One who was known as an excellent First Lady was Edith Carow Roosevelt.

Every thing about Theodore Roosevelt was larger than life. He had an enormous amount of energy and approached everything with exuberance and enthusiasm, whether it was physical exercise, hunting, reading, charging up San Juan Hill, or continuing a speech while bleeding after an assassination attempt. He wasn’t particularly self-aware and often talked too much. In many ways he needed an anchor, someone who could bring him back to reality and be a grounding influence. Edith Carow was that person. They had an immensely satisfying marriage and she was the perfect counterpoint to Theodore’s outgoing, almost overwhelming personality. Edith also was a superb and well-liked First Lady of the United States.

Edith Kermit Carow was born in Norwich Connecticut on August 6, 1861 to Charles Carow and Gertrude Elizabeth Tyler Carow. Edith had impeccable social credentials; she could count an American Civil War general, two British Prime Ministers, and the famous preacher Jonathan Edwards as her ancestors. Her father worked in the family shipping company, but was not as successful as many of his colleagues; however, at the time Charles and Gertrude married, he was still relatively well off and they settled in Manhattan just a few blocks from his childhood friend Theodore Roosevelt, Sr.

Edith was born within a few weeks of Corinne Roosevelt, Theodore’s younger sister, and was friends with the children in the Roosevelt family almost from birth. She and Corinne considered themselves the best of friends as children, although the relationship became strained by the time Theodore became president. The Roosevelt children were taught at home by their Aunt Anna Bullard and Edith was included in the lessons. She was a quiet, serious, somewhat introverted child who loved to read. At 10, she attended Miss Comstock’s finishing school re-enforcing her strong moral sense and her love of literature. Although math and science were not part of her formal education, she loved nature and learned to identify many different varieties of flowers. Charles taught Edith and her sister Emily, her only sibling to survive infancy, sports and the local flora and fauna.

Edith (on the ground) with TR, Elliot, and Corrine

 Whether from inability or lack of inclination, Edith’s father couldn’t seem to overcome the bad times that inevitably occurred in the shipping industry in the 19th century. He also struggled more and more with alcoholism as he got into his 30s, around the time he married and his children were born. In spite of his problems, Edith was very close to him and they shared interests in learning, literature, and the theater. As their financial circumstances worsened, the family had to depend on relatives more and more for money and sometimes a place to live. When Charles died in 1883, he left the family in reduced circumstances that eventually required a move to Europe where they could live more cheaply.

Although Edith was friends with all of the Roosevelt children, by her early teens she had developed a special friendship with Theodore, Teedie to the family, and they were often together during family outings on Oyster Bay during the summer. Even though she was 3 years younger, when Theodore went to Harvard she appeared often in his diary and visited him at school. During the summer between his first two years, however, there was a disagreement between the two of them that neither explained with the exception of a reference that Theodore made to the fact that they both had tempers. Whatever happened, the end result was that Edith disappeared from Theodore’s diary and at sometime in his junior year, he met and instantly fell in love with Alice Hathaway Lee. He and Alice were married in 1880, a few months after his graduation from Harvard.

Alice Hathaway Lee around the time of her marriage to TR

 In spite of, or perhaps because of, Edith’s home life, she had developed into a determined and confident young woman, although somewhat reticent and hard to get to know. If anyone thought that she would avoid Theodore and his new bride, they were mistaken. She went to the wedding and encountered them in other social situations without hesitation. She even gave Theodore a party when he was elected to the State Assembly in 1882. The situation was different however, when Alice died, on Valentine’s Day 1884 only two days after giving birth to their daughter, also named Alice. Both Theodore and Edith took pains to avoid each other. He was heartbroken and took off to the Badlands.

Although Theodore had a strong aversion to second marriages and saw them as being disloyal to the first wife, a chance encounter brought him and Edith back together in the fall of 1885. Within a few months, they had rekindled their relationship and become secretly engaged. Edith’s family financial situation was such that they had decided to move to Europe and she felt that she had to get them settled prior to getting married, so after the move Theodore joined her in London and they were wed on December 2, 1886. The newlyweds took their honeymoon in France and then returned to the home which Theodore had built for his first wife at Oyster Bay, although he did change the name from Leeholm to Sagamore Hill.

Baby Alice was being raised by Theodore’s sister Anna, Bamie to the family, and they had become very attached. He really didn’t have much to do with the baby, and usually referred to her as Baby Lee rather than by the name Alice. Although Theodore had offered to leave the baby with Bamie, Edith wanted her to come live with them. Five more children were born within the next ten years, giving Edith a large brood of children to manage, plus Theodore. Edith seemed to take it all in stride.

Roosevelt Family in 1903 with Quentin on the left, TR, Ted, Jr., Archie, Alice, Kermit, Edith, and Ethel

Unlike some First Ladies, Edith wasn’t interested in politics, but she knew that it was the life that Theodore had chosen. At the Republican National Convention in 1900, she was hoping that someone else would be nominated for Vice President other than Theodore. She knew that he would be bored simply presiding over the Senate, but it was a good move for him. He had served as Civil Service Commissioner, Police Commissioner in New York City, Assistant Secretary of the Navy, the Rough Rider war hero “Colonel Roosevelt”, Governor of New York and Vice President was a logical next step. What neither of them could have known was that the job would be short-lived and he would find himself the President within a few months.

Edith was extremely organized in managing her household and handling the family finances. She carried these same skills into the White House and in many ways made it her own. She was the first First Lady to add a social secretary to the payroll; she oversaw the renovation of the White House, the building of the West Wing, and separating the private quarters from public offices. When the family moved into the White House in 1901 the children ranged in age from 4 to 17 and Edith wanted to make their lives as normal as possible. This included numerous pets from dogs and cats to Alice’s pet snake, horseback riding, lessons, debuts for Alice and Ethel, and Alice’s wedding in 1906. She handled all of it with a grace that impressed the staff and even the media. White House aide W. H. Crook said that she handled all of her duties “without losing health, strength, or the youthful, vivacious, charming presence that made her personality as remarkable as that of her husband.”

Even though Edith was known for her efficiency, she was a warm and caring person attuned to the feelings of others. During one social event at the White House, she noticed a young woman, whose family had met with financial problems requiring her to take a job as a sales clerk, being ignored. As the woman was about to leave, Edith caught her and led her to a sofa to engage her in conversation. But she was no doormat either. When writing to Ted, his oldest son, just before his marriage, Theodore said that “when necessary [Edith] pointed out where I was thoughtless and therefore inconsiderate and selfish, instead of submitting to it. Had she not done this it would in the end have made her life very much harder, and mine very much less happy.” Even Alice, who was not an easy child to raise, when writing about Edith in her autobiography Crowded Hours, wrote, “That I was the child of another marriage was a simple fact and made a situation that had to be coped with, and Mother coped with it with a fairness and charm and intelligence which she has to a greater degree than almost any one else I know.”

Edith lived a long life. After Theodore died in 1919, she traveled extensively and enjoyed her children and grandchildren. She never was completely free of politics. In 1936, she supported Alfred Landon against her husband’s “distant cousin” Franklin Delano Roosevelt, vehemently objecting when anyone tried to compare FDR to Theodore. Unfortunately, she also had to endure the sorrow of seeing three of her children die; one of whom suffered with alcoholism as her father had, ultimately committing suicide. When Edith died on September 30, 1948 at the age of 87, Life magazine called her “one of the strongest-minded and strongest-willed presidential wives who ever lived in the White House.”

Edith’s official White House portrait

Resources
The Roosevelt Women by Betty Boyd Caroli
Presidential Wives: An Anecdotal History by Paul F. Boller, Jr.
TR: The Last Romantic by H. W. Brands

Bess and Harry Truman - A Love Story

I like Harry Truman. I might not agree with all the decisions he made as President, but I like the person he was. One thing I like about Harry is that once he set his mind to something, he did it, if at all possible. He never let discouragement derail him. He failed frequently, but didn’t let that keep him from trying something different. One thing that seemed impossible from the beginning was winning the heart and hand of Bess Wallace.

Elizabeth Virginia Wallace (Bessie to the family) was born in Independence, Missouri on February 13, 1885. Her parents, David Willock Wallace and Margaret Elizabeth Gates Wallace (Madge), were both well liked in the community, but were certainly not equal in social standing. Bessie’s maternal grandfather, George Porterfield Gates, owned a milling company that distributed flour throughout the Midwest. Her paternal grandfather, Benjamin Wallace, had been a politician serving as mayor of Independence and in the Missouri state legislature. Benjamin Wallace died eight years before Bess was born, and although the Wallace’s were a part of her life, their influence would fade in comparison to that of the Gate’s clan. George Porterfield Gates was against Madge marrying David, but gave in when they threatened to elope. He was afraid that David Wallace wouldn’t be able to support his daughter in the manner to which she was accustomed. He was right.

When Bess was two years old, the family moved to a house on North Delaware St, a very fashionable address two blocks from the Gate’s family home. As the first grandchild, she was petted and spoiled by her Gates grandparents and aunts and uncles. Bess was easy to love and dote upon. She was a bright, pretty, and outgoing child with golden hair and blue eyes. Three brothers followed to compete for this attention: Frank Gates Wallace (1887), George Porterfield Wallace (1892), and David Frederick Wallace (1900).
Bess was a happy, active girl. She excelled in sports as the best tennis player in Independence, an ice skater, horsewoman, and the champion slugger on her brother’s baseball team. Madge Wallace tolerated her daughter’s athletic activities as long as Bess maintained the appropriate activities for a proper young lady, which she did. Bess attended dance classes and the entire round of social functions in Independence. She did well in school, but when it came time to go to college, as many of her friends made plans to go away, it became clear that Bess’ father couldn’t afford to send her.

Financial difficulties weren’t the only strains in the home. In the mid 1890s, another girl was born, but died within a few years. Madge had always been considered “delicate”, so by the time Bess was in high school, she was taking on more and more responsibility for her younger brothers. From the outside, things may have looked fine. David Wallace was outgoing and still involved in politics. He would play with the children and was always involved in celebrations, from setting up fireworks displays to riding at the head of parades on his black horse. Bess adored him, but his financial difficulties began to get the best of him and he started to drink. The final child, David Frederick born in 1900, only added to the strain.

David Wallace held on for another three years, but early on the morning of June 17, 1903, he got up, went into a bathroom at the back of the house and shot himself in the head. It’s hard to know exactly what went through his mind, but the years of struggling to keep up, of depending on his father-in-law to give him money, and of fulfilling Gates’ negative expectations, added to his increased drinking must have all contributed to his feelings that he couldn’t go on. The family was devastated. Mary Paxton, Bess’ best friend and next door neighbor, went over that morning to be with her. Together she walked with Bess in silence as she paced with clenched fists for several hours.

David Wallace’s death and subsequent funeral were agonizing for the family, especially for Madge. He had been the presiding officer of the Knight’s Templar, so his funeral was elaborate and well attended, but the local newspaper also wrote an article giving gruesome details of his death. Add to that the realization that he had left the family deep in debt, and Madge couldn’t handle it. She and the children moved in with her parents, but soon after the funeral left Independence to visit a relative and stayed away for over a year.

As you would expect, Bess’ father’s suicide changed her life in a number of ways. From a practical standpoint, she found herself, at age eighteen, the effective parent of her younger brothers. She also began to feel a sense of responsibility for her mother that would last for the rest of her life. On another level, although she never blamed her mother, she began to think about her parent’s relationship, what it lacked, and what she would want in a marriage, if she ever found anyone to marry.

After the family returned to Independence, although Madge remained basically a recluse, Bess began to become socially active again. She spent a year at the Barstow school, a finishing school for young women that prepared them for college, although many went there just to round out their high school education. Bess had suitors, but no one seemed to meet her requirements. Then in 1910, a young man knocked on the door to return a cake plate for his cousins, who were neighbors of the Wallace family. That young man was Harry S. Truman.

The way Harry told it, he had fallen in love with Bess when her first saw her in Sunday School, when she was five and he was six. Over the school years, he had never had the nerve to do more than carry her books home from school a few times, but there had never been another girl for him. In the intervening years, Harry had his own challenges and had changed quite a bit. In school he had never been athletic, probably in part to protect the eyeglasses he had to wear from the age of five; he played the piano; and he, according to his own account, “read every book in the Independence library.” His own ambitions to go to West Point were dashed partly because he would never have passed the eye exam, but also because his father lost all his money and Harry had to work to help support the family. After a time working in Kansas City, his father asked him to come home and help him run the farm that Harry’s mother had inherited with her brother. So the Harry that showed up at the Wallace home that night was suntanned and fit in a way that the younger Harry never was.

Their courtship began that night, but would last for quite a few years. After about a year, Harry proposed, in a letter. After 3 weeks of silence, Bess refused. Harry responded by thanking her for letting him down so easily, saying that he didn’t really think “that a girl like you could ever care for a fellow like me,” and continuing to write. Harry Truman didn’t discourage easily.

Bess had made it clear that she expected anyone she married to be able to support her, and Harry became focused on making money. He tried several schemes which didn’t pan out, and signed on as a partner to his father’s business, which eventually left him with more debt. In the meantime, Harry and Bess continued to write almost daily, and he had a standing invitation to her house on Sundays. In his characteristically honest way, he told her about life on the farm, but he also let her know that he was no country bumpkin, writing about operas, symphonies, and plays that he had seen when he lived in Kansas City. They discussed literature and exchanged book recommendations and criticisms.

Finally, in the fall of 1913, Bess told Harry that if she married any man it would be him. He was elated and determined that he would be able to establish a home for her that she could be proud to live in. But everything seemed to work against him. On the farm it was the weather, then his investment in a zinc mine didn’t pan out. Then in 1917, it looked like everything might come together for them. They both invested money in an oil company and things were going very well, until the US entered WWI. The stock in the oil company immediately dropped causing them to lose almost all the money they had invested, but worse than that for Bess was that Harry felt he had to do his duty. He had re-enlisted in the National Guard, and in August he was admitted into the US Army and was scheduled to go to Europe.

Although, several of her friends got married before sending their beaux off to war, when Bess mentioned it, Harry now refused. He did not want her to be stuck with a “potential cripple.” They did however, after all these years, in spite of Madge’s objections, announce their engagement. Bess had a special photograph taken to give to Harry when he went to war. He carried it with him for the rest of his life, first into battle in his shirt pocket, and later it always had a prominent place on his desk. (This is the photo at the top of the post.)

Harry returned safely, and on June 28, 1919, at the ages of 35 and 36, Bess and Harry were finally married. They were faithful to each other throughout all the difficulties in the coming years: a failed business, taking care of Madge, and Harry’s unexpected presidency. Bess had found in Harry a man who would be open with her about all those difficulties, as well as a man who wouldn’t give up in the face of obstacles.

One note of irony, however, after they were married they moved into Madge’s house “temporarily,” but lived there for the rest of their lives whenever they were in Independence.

Eleanor Roosevelt - A Late Bloomer

This is from my blog about famous women. 
How can you write a blog post about Eleanor Roosevelt? There are many biographies about her, multi-volume biographies, as well as biographies about her husband Franklin Delano Roosevelt which of necessity include her. I am certainly not an expert on her and there are people out there who are; people who have a better understanding of what motivated her to achieve the things she did. And she did achieve amazing things. But part of what I wanted to do when I started this blog was to write about women who inspire me. That doesn’t mean I always agree with them, but that I see something in their lives that I believe is of value and worth talking about. With Eleanor Roosevelt, I happen to agree with much of what she did and stood for.

Eleanor Roosevelt inspires me in many ways, and there are many lessons that we can learn from her life I’m sure, but one thing that I love about her is that she in some respects was a late bloomer, coming into her own power if you will after marriage and motherhood. She was a shy child born to parents who were a hit in society and the talk of the town. Her mother was a celebrated beauty and her father was the life of the party, but she wasn’t either of these things. Continue Reading.