“June 30—At 3:30 o’clock ex-President Theodore Roosevelt, accompanied by Senator Lodge, called to pay his respects to the President. He was met at the entrance by Captain Butt, who announced his arrival. The President immediately came out and greeted his visitor most affectionately, addressing him as Theodore.
“Colonel Roosevelt took both hands of the President, and said,
“ ‘Mr. President, it is fine to see you looking so well.’
“ ‘But why “Mr. President”?’ laughed the President.
“ ‘Because,’ replied Colonel Roosevelt, ‘it used to be “Mr. President” and “Will,” now it must be “Mr. President” and “Theodore.” ’
“The President conducted his distinguished predecessor to the side porch where they started into a series of delightful reminiscences of the past Administration. … Colonel Roosevelt remained two hours, during which he gave the President an interesting account of his trip.”
I was present at this interview and remember it as being remarkably pleasant and entertaining. Everybody will recall that the question of Mr. Roosevelt’s attitude toward my husband was even then a debatable one, but Mr. Taft had resolutely refused to believe that it could ever be anything but friendly. I did not share his complete faith, but I was glad on this occasion to find the old spirit of sympathetic comradeship still paramount and myself evidently proved to be unwarrantably suspicious.
Mr. Roosevelt had just been in England where he acted as the representative of the President of the United States at the funeral of King Edward, and that solemnly magnificent event seemed to have overshadowed in his mind every other experience he had had during his long absence. He described the stately ceremonies and the medievally picturesque procession in vivid detail and did not fail to emphasise their grave and reverential aspects, but he dwelt particularly, and to our great amusement, upon the humorous side of the situation in which he had found himself.
It will be remembered that among Kings and Emperors and Czars, and even lesser potentates, the rank of Presidents was a difficult thing to determine. Should minor royalties take precedence over the representatives of the French Republic and the United States of America, to say nothing of Mexico, Brazil, Switzerland, and all the other great and small democracies?
Mr. Roosevelt had great difficulty in finding his place. Then, too, he was constantly running into kings and other royalties to whom he, naturally, owed ceremonious respect. They were so numerous in London at the time that familiarity with them bred carelessness in one whose tongue had not been trained to the honorifics of Court life, and he found himself making extremely funny blunders. He told us many stories of his adventures with the world’s elect and, with his keen appreciation of the ridiculous and his gift of description, gave us as merry an afternoon as we ever spent with him.
I dwell on the memory of this agreeable meeting with Mr. Roosevelt and the entertainment it afforded me, because by his manner he succeeded in convincing me that he still held my husband in the highest esteem and reposed in him the utmost confidence, and that the rumours of his antagonism were wholly unfounded. I was not destined to enjoy this faith and assurance for very long.
In mid-July of that year we started off for a short cruise on the Mayflower, the only one we ever made. It is not really possible for the President to have a vacation, but if he happens to be a good sailor I know of no better way for him to get short intervals of rest than by boarding the Presidential yacht and steaming away, out of the reach of crowds.
We had only a small party with us, my husband’s brother, Mr. Horace Taft, my sister, Mrs. Louis More, Miss Mabel Boardman and the Assistant Secretary of the Navy, Mr. Beekman Winthrop, and Mrs. Winthrop; and Captain Butt, of course, was with us always.
We headed north for the Maine coast with Eastport as our first stopping place. The mayor of that interesting city of fisheries came on board as soon as we dropped anchor, made a felicitous speech of welcome and proceeded to lay out a programme of sightseeing and festivities which would have kept us there for a considerable longer time than we could stay if it had all been carried out, and this experience was repeated everywhere we went. We had to decline everything except a motor ride about town for the purpose of getting a glimpse of the weir fisheries and the sardine canneries, but a President doesn’t visit Eastport very often, so the people thronging the streets made it seem quite like a holiday.
Then a committee from the Island of Campo Bello, which lies a short distance off the coast and which is a British possession, waited upon us with an invitation to come across and go for a buckboard ride around a part of the island. It sounded like such a homely and restful form of amusement that Mr. Taft was sorely tempted to break the unwritten law which decrees that a President may not set foot outside United States territory, but he concluded that he had better not. The rest of us, however, decided to go and we had a jolly, jolting ride which ended at the summer home of Mrs. Franklin Roosevelt.
Everywhere we went we were most delightfully entertained, finding beautiful homes and merry summer hosts at every port and town. At fashionable Bar Harbor we found a colony of friends whose winter homes are in Washington and Mr. Taft got some excellent golf. There were luncheons and dinners, of course, every day and everywhere, to say nothing of teas and large receptions, and Mr. Taft had to make speeches, too, and meet all the Maine politicians. But there were the long restful nights on the Mayflower, steaming along among the crags and rocks of the broken, picturesque coast, or lying at anchor in some quiet harbour with only the soft water sounds to break the stillness, and it would not have
