The Autobiography of Eleanor Roosevelt (31 page)

From Uruguay they went to Brazil, and Franklin again was much pleased by the enthusiasm that his visit called forth. It was there that he was given the gifts for me that later created so much comment in one of the newspaper columns and in radio broadcasts. For this reason I think it wise to tell the whole story here.

Undersecretary Welles was asked by President Vargas and his wife if they might send some gifts to me, for they knew the rule that no president of the United States or any government official could accept personal gifts from a foreign government while in office. Senhora Vargas sent me a beautiful hammered silver tea set and she and her husband together sent me, from their collection, a large aquamarine, one of the biggest and most perfect stones in the world. My husband presented me with these gifts on his return and I was deeply impressed by them, but realized that only in the White House or at some official gathering could such a large tea set be used. The stone was kept in my safe at the White House.

After Franklin’s death I gave the tea set to the airplane carrier, U.S.S.
Franklin D. Roosevelt
, and I hope that the Brazilians were pleased to see it on the ship when she made a good-will visit there shortly after being put into commission.

I gave the aquamarine to Bernard Baruch in order that he might make some inquiries about its value. I had tried to have it appraised, but no jeweler seemed able to tell me its exact value. At that time Drew Pearson, the columnist, announced that I was about to sell this stone, that it had been given to my husband and not to me, and that it was valued at $25,000. I was appalled at the thought that I might be accused of having kept out of my husband’s estate something that had actually belonged to him.

I had not wanted to give this stone to the Franklin D. Roosevelt Library because I felt it had little connection with any of my husband’s collections. I hoped to do something with it that would in some way benefit the Brazilian people. Fortunately, I discovered that Mr. Welles knew all about the presentation of this gift to my husband for me, and he told me that it would give great pleasure to the Brazilian people if the stone were placed with Franklin’s other collections in the Library at Hyde Park. It is there now.

While Franklin was in South America, Miss Thompson and I went on my first real lecture trip. In the spring I had undertaken four lectures in the Middle West and I had not felt happy about them; this was to be my first trip under the W. Colston Leigh Lecture Bureau.

These trips gave me a wonderful opportunity to visit all kinds of places and to see and get to know a good cross section of people. Always during my free time I visited as many government projects as possible, often managing to arrive without advance notice so that they could not be polished up for my inspection. I began to see for myself some of the results of my husband’s actions during the first hundred days of his administration, and in meeting and talking with people all over the country I got the full impact of what the new programs had meant to them. It was evident that the home and farm loans, for example, had saved many a family from outright disaster.

Of course, I always reported to Franklin upon my return, but aside from any value my reports may have been to him, I had another, more personal, reason for wanting to make these trips. All the years I lived in Washington I was preparing for the time when we should no longer be there. I did not want to give up my interests in New York City, because I always felt that someday I would go back. I never anticipated that so many years would pass before I left Washington. I kept expecting to leave at the end of every four years.

During those years in Washington we tried to maintain our home traditions as well as those that had been established in the White House, particularly in regard to the celebration of holidays. Christmas Eve in Washington was usually a busy day for me. I started by going to a party for underprivileged children, given by the welfare council at the National Theater. Then I joined my husband to wish all the people in the executive offices a merry Christmas.

Usually at lunchtime I had to be at the Salvation Army headquarters, where we had a service just before the food baskets were given out. I am afraid that during the depression years these services had an unchristian effect upon me, because invariably, before receiving their baskets, the poor wretches were told how grateful they should be. I knew if I were in their shoes I would be anything but grateful. From there I went to the Volunteers of America for the same sort of service and giving of food baskets, returning home in time for the afternoon party in the East Room.

After the party my husband and I and any of the family that were with us went to the lighting of the Community Christmas Tree, where my husband broadcast a Christmas message. Then he would return to the White House while I went on to a Christmas tree in one of the alleys (the slums of Washington), where again we sang carols. As I looked at the poor people about me I could not help wondering what Christmas could mean to those children.

Returning home I would find my husband reading Dickens’
The Christmas Carol
to any of the family that were gathered together. Having a great sense of the dramatic, he always put a good deal of drama into his reading of the parts about the ghosts. Whenever he read anything aloud like this, he acted it out straight through, which was why he held the attention of the little children so well, even before they could understand the meaning of the words. After the stockings had been filled, Miss Thompson and I nearly always went to midnight services at St. Thomas Church.

My husband liked to be in the White House on New Year’s Eve. We always gathered a few friends, and at midnight in the oval study the radio was turned on and we waited with the traditional eggnog in hand for midnight to be announced. Franklin always sat in his big chair and, as the President, would raise his glass and say: “To the United States of America.” All of us stood and repeated the toast after him. Somehow the words were especially meaningful and impressive in that house and gave a touch of solemnity to the personal greetings that followed.

Nineteen
    

Second Term: 1936-1937

FRANKLIN DID NOT
talk a great deal about the work he was doing, either at meals or in private family conversations. Most of us felt that when he was with his family he should have a respite from the concerns of his office.

When an administration bill was up before Congress, we often found that the number of Congressmen coming to his study in the evenings increased. I learned that I must make an evaluation of the bills on which he had to get support. He calculated votes closely on what was known as the administration policy, and considered “must” legislation.

Only bills that were “must” legislation got full administration support. In the first years these were largely economic measures; later on, they were measures for defense. While I often felt strongly on various subjects, Franklin frequently refrained from supporting causes in which he believed, because of political realities. There were times when this annoyed me very much. In the case of the Spanish Civil War, for instance, we had to remain neutral, though Franklin wanted the democratic government to be successful. But he also knew he could not get Congress to go along with him. To justify his action, or lack of action, he explained to me, when I complained, that the League of Nations had asked us to remain neutral. By trying to convince me that our course was correct he was simply trying to salve his own conscience, because he himself was uncertain. It was one of the many times when I felt akin to a hairshirt.

I also remember wanting to get all-out support for the anti-lynching bill and the removal of the poll tax, but though Franklin was in favor of both measures, they never became “must” legislation. When I would protest, he would simply say: “First things first. I can’t alienate certain votes I need for measures that are more important at the moment by pushing any measure that would entail a fight.” And as the situation in Europe grew worse, preparations for war had to take precedence over everything else. That was always “must” legislation, and Franklin knew it would not pass if there was a party split.

Often people came to me to enlist his support for an idea. Although I might present the situation to him, I never urged on him a specific course of action, no matter how strongly I felt, because I realized that he knew of factors in the picture as a whole of which I might be ignorant.

One of the ideas I agreed to present to Franklin was that of setting up a national youth administration. Harry Hopkins, then head of the WPA, and Aubrey Williams, his deputy administrator and later head of the National Youth Administration, knew how deeply troubled I had been from the beginning about the plight of the country’s young people. One day they said: “We have come to you about this because we do not feel we should talk to the President about it as yet. There may be many people against the establishment of such an agency in the government and there may be bad political repercussions. We do not know that the country will accept it. We do not even like to ask the President, because we do not think he should be put in a position where he has to say officially ‘yes’ or ‘no’ now.”

I agreed to try to find out what Franklin’s feelings were and to put before him their opinions and fears. I waited until my usual time for discussing questions with him and went into his room just before he went to sleep. I described the whole idea, which he already knew something of, and then told him of the fears that Harry Hopkins and Aubrey Williams had about such an agency. He looked at me and asked: “Do they think it is right to do this?” I said they thought it might be a great help to the young people, but they did not want him to forget that it might be unwise politically. They felt that a great many people who were worried by the fact that Germany had regimented its youth might feel we were trying to do the same thing in this country. Then Franklin said: “If it is the right thing to do for the young people, then it should be done. I guess we can stand the criticism, and I doubt if our youth can be regimented in this way or in any other way.”

I went back to Harry Hopkins and Aubrey Williams the next day with Franklin’s message. Shortly after, the NYA came into being and undoubtedly benefited many young people. It offered projects to help high school and college youngsters to finish school, and provided training in both resident and nonresident projects, supplementing the work of the Civilian Conservation Corps in such a way as to aid all youth.

It was one of the occasions on which I was proud that the right thing was done regardless of political considerations. As a matter of fact, however, it turned out to be politically popular and strengthened the administration greatly.

I am reminded here of a story Miss Thompson told about the time I visited one of the prisons in Baltimore with Mr. Maury Maverick, who was in charge of prison industries during the war and wanted me to see the salvage work being done there. In order to fit the trip into my schedule I had to leave the White House early without saying good morning to Franklin. On his way to the office, he called to Tommy and asked where I was. “She’s in prison, Mr. President,” Tommy said. “I’m not surprised,” said Franklin, “but what for?”

As time went by I found that people no longer considered me a mouthpiece for my husband but realized that I had a point of view of my own with which he might not at all agree. Then I felt freer to state my views. However, I always used some care, and sometimes I would send Franklin one of my columns about which I was doubtful. The only change he would ever suggest was occasionally in the use of a word, and that was simply a matter of style. Of course, this hands-off policy had its advantages for him, too; for it meant that my column could sometimes serve as a trial balloon. If some idea I expressed strongly—and with which he might agree—caused a violent reaction, he could honestly say that he had no responsibility in the matter and that the thoughts were my own.

Though Franklin himself never tried to discourage me and was undisturbed by anything I wanted to say or do, other people were frequently less happy about my actions. I knew, for instance, that many of my racial beliefs and activities in the field of social work caused Steve Early and Marvin McIntyre grave concern. They were afraid that I would hurt my husband politically and socially.

One afternoon I gave a garden party at the White House for the girls from the reform school in Washington, most of whom were colored. Steve thought that was unwise, politically, and I did get some bad publicity in the southern papers. Steve felt the same way about my work with the members of the American Youth Congress. Franklin, however, never said anything to me about it. I always felt that if Franklin’s re-election depended on such little things that I or any member of the family did, he could not be doing the job the people in the country wanted him to do.

I know Franklin felt the same way. Many of his political advisers, as well as some of the family, were deeply troubled over Elliott and Anna’s divorces, feeling that they would react unfavorably on my husband’s political career. In each case Franklin had done what he could to prevent the divorce, but when he was convinced that the children had made up their minds after careful reflection, it never occurred to him to suggest that they should subordinate their lives to his interests. He said that he thought a man in politics stood or fell by the results of his policies; that what the children did or did not do affected their lives, and that he did not consider that their lives should be tied to his political interests.

Sometimes Franklin carried his disregard of criticism too far. I was appalled when, in 1937, he asked James to come to Washington as one of his secretaries. James was delighted, for he had always been interested in politics and thought the opportunity to help his father a great chance to learn much and be really useful. I, however, could foresee the attacks that would be made on his father for appointing him, and on James himself, and I could imagine all kinds of ways in which, through his necessarily political activities, he might get himself and his father into trouble. I protested vehemently to Franklin and told him he was selfish to bring James down. I talked to James and tried to persuade him not to come, but he could see no objections. Finally I was silenced by my husband saying to me: “Why should I be deprived of my eldest son’s help and the pleasure of having him with me just because I am the President?” It did seem hard and what he said had a point. Nevertheless, I was unhappy, and I think my fears were justified by what actually happened.